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*Author’s Note: Any and all persons engaging in sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
It was nearing ‘that time of the month; and Dee Jones was feeling the full effect of it. She poured herself another gin and seven-up and felt like screaming; the bottle of gin was nearly empty.
Nude, she padded into her living room and sat on the leather couch. She flipped through channel after channel; nothing on television grabbed her interest.
She did scream when she noticed that her drink was empty. Irritably, she yanked open the drawer of her end table, pulled out the ashtray and small bag of marijuana. She smiled tightly when she saw that she had anticipated this need and had already rolled a nice fat joint.
Fox Headline News blared about the latest casualties in Iraq as she smoked the acrid sweet joint. Still, it was not enough and she reached back into the drawer again.
Two lines of the meth and she finally felt the relief she was so desperately seeking. The only problem with meth, though, was it made her horny. Not as horny as cocaine, but the gang she bought her drugs from rarely had any good cocaine on hand. Meth, however, was plentiful and cheap.
“Fucking tired of Big Ben,” she complained bitterly as she padded to her bedroom.
The three boys had been denied access to Jumpers; even with their fake IDs. They loitered in the parking lot, listening to the loud music pumping from the small building. The two white and one black freshman students joked and jostled one another.
Pat straightened up; a hot looking brunette was languidly strolling toward the trio, making a beeline for them.
“Hey,” Dee said. “Couldn’t get in?”
Pat, Latavius, and Joel looked at the five foot four inch woman for a long moment, unable to speak. She wore a white tank top, her dark nipples clearly visible through the thin material. Her black miniskirt was short, revealing muscular, tanned legs. Her four inch heels made the legs look even longer.
“No, believe that shit?” Latavius finally found his voice. “I mean, we done showed them our IDs and they all like ‘aw no, them fake IDs,’ what’s up with that?”
“So how old are you?” Dee asked, amused.
“Twenty one,” Latavius declared, pulling out his ID card.
“No, I mean how old are you really?” Dee asked, light brown eyes glassy.
“Nineteen,” Joel admitted, earning himself a feather light touch on his bare arm from Dee.
“And you?” she asked Pat, who mumbled he too was nineteen.
Latavius admitted he too was only nineteen, slightly unnerved by Dee’s almost manic smile.
The three boys jumped out of the bed of the pickup truck when she parked in front of her apartment complex and trotted up the stairs behind her. Joel’s cock was throbbing unmercifully; he could see that she wore no panties and her labia glinted golden shimmers.
“Um, hey, we um,” Latavius stammered, trying his best to regain some control.
“Hey, I didn’t bring y’all here so we could play Scrabble,” Dee laughed harshly and dropped her skirt and tank top to the floor of her living room.
Joel groaned as he shot his load into his briefs. Dee giggled and rewarded him with another feather light touch to his bare arm.
He gawked at the gold hoops threaded through her large nipples and wanted to touch her large breasts, but was too shy to. He admired her flat, muscular belly and the gold hoop in her navel. Her bare pussy mound made him swallow nervously, as did the six small gold hoops piercing her labia.
“Go ahead,” she giggled to him. “You can touch.”
“Well, all right now, uh huh, so it’s laid out like that, huh?” Latavius asked, preening and flexing.
“Joel’s shaking hand hefted one of her breasts and he groaned again as his cock twitched in his briefs.
“Ever seen a brother’s snake before?” Latavius demanded, shoving his shorts and boxers down.
“Uh huh,” Dee smiled, showing all of her teeth.
“Can I, um can I eat your pussy?” Joel asked.
“Aw yeah,” Dee laughed and flopped down on the couch, legs spread wide for his inexperienced tongue.
Dee wondered how quick he would be to put his mouth there if he knew she was close to her period. Latavius knelt on the couch next to Dee and thrust his growing cock toward her head.
She took his manhood in her small hands, stroked it a few times then gave it a long, slow, deliberate lick. She laughed out loud as Latavius lost all bravado and control. She quickly put her mouth over the head of his cock and swallowed his spurting semen.
“Right there, baby boy,” she cooed as Joel finally located her clitoris. “See that ring? Pull it with your teeth, I like it like that.”
Pat was a little embarrassed about the size of his cock, but Dee hefted it and murmured words of encouragement.
“Oh yeah,” she groaned as Joel licked and tugged her clitoris to orgasm.
“Stick your cock in me?” she begged Joel and he quickly shoved his shorts and briefs down and slid into her pussy to the hilt.
“Oh, damn!” she grunted casino oyna in orgasm.
Pat lasted only a few moments when Dee began to suck on his cock. Joel felt mortified that he only lasted for three quick strokes before he unleashed a torrent of semen into Dee’s hot pussy.
“You’re so good,” Dee encouraged the two white males, and then got to unsteady feet.
“Come on, couch is a little small, huh?” she said and sauntered down the hall to her bedroom.
Again, Latavius tried to take charge, and again, Dee physically dominated him. She pushed him onto his back and straddled his erection.
“You,” she said over her shoulder to Joel. “I want you in my butt.”
“Really?” he squeaked out and she laughed out loud when his cock twitched and spewed a hot dribble onto her back.
Pat did not complain as Dee took him into her hot sucking mouth a second time. He jerked slightly when Dee grunted around the base of his cock; Joel had just clumsily tried to force his cock into her dry anus.
“Lube’s in the top drawer,” she groaned as he attempted it again.
“Oh, sorry!” he gasped.
“Aw yeah, bitch, like this shit huh?” Latavius chortled as he grabbed handful of Dee’s breasts.
If she had not been high on meth, and horny enough to screw a cactus, Dee would have beaten him violently for calling her a bitch and for his rough, slightly painful treatment of her breasts. She grunted in pleasure as Joel sunk his lubricated cock into her bowels.
“Go slow, baby,” she said.
“You too, don’t be choking me with this thing,” she said to Pat and sucked him into her mouth again.
Marvin was in a foul mood; some Latin guy had stepped on his Fila tennis shoes, scuffing the white toe of the shoe. He had shoved the guy but the grinning gang member had turned around and showed Marvin the butt of his nine millimeter pistol.
So, he grabbed Anita and jerked her out of Jumpers and dragged her home.
Anita didn’t mind; she had a horrible headache from the nonstop pounding of the music and all Marvin would buy was beer. Jumpers charged too much for mixed drinks, in his opinion.
Headache or not, Anita took the brunt of Marvin’s anger; he pounded her hairy pussy fast and furious, giving little thought to her comfort or pleasure.
“You a queen; you deserve to be treated like a queen,” Marvin had declared.
Anita Sanchez, suffering from low self-esteem for much of her pudgy life, could not believe the handsome African-American man was talking to her, and fell for his smooth talk and promises.
“Careful, Anita, he’s kind of controlling,” Dee had warned her.
Nadia Doyeski had warned her too, and steered well clear of Marvin Kingston.
“Y’all are just jealous, bunch of fucking dykes,” Anita had shrilled at her friends.
Now, a year later, she realized that Dee and Nadia had been right. The control was so subtle she didn’t even notice it until there was nothing left of her former self. She had no friends; they were all his friends. She didn’t have Dee’s phone number, or Nadia’s phone number; he bought her a new cell phone and promised to transfer all her old phone numbers to the new one, but never did. She didn’t even wear any of her old clothing; she wore only what he bought her. Of course, since she’d gained nearly eighty pounds, none of her old clothes fit any more. They ate what he liked and nothing he liked was low calorie or low carbohydrate.
She looked in the mirror after cleaning herself up; he couldn’t be bothered to wear a condom.
“Just don’t feel right, know what I’m saying?” he cackled.
She lived in constant dread of becoming pregnant but that was of little concern to him.
The mirror showed a fat blob, complete with three double chins of blubber.
“Damn it, I was so close, too,” she thought to herself.
She and Dee had set up a work out regiment and diet plan and both girls were following it together. According to the medical chart on the Internet, Anita’s ideal weight was between one hundred and fourteen pounds to one hundred and thirty eight pounds.
Sonja and Nadia had offered to do it too, but both Dee and Anita had laughed; the twins were slightly underweight as it was.
The last time she’d stepped on a scale, she was at one hundred and fifty one pounds. Success was just within reach.
Now, even though Marvin had a scale, she did not even venture to step on it, dreading what it would say.
“You ain’t fat, you just right, know what I’m saying?” Marvin had sneered and grabbed a handful of her buttock, gripping it as hard as he could in his beefy paw, hurting her.
“Believe that mother fucker, huh?” Marvin spat at her when she exited the bathroom. “All bad and shit, showing me his piece. Man! I had me a mother fucking nine Millie, I’d reduced him, know what I’m saying? Reduced him right there! Flashing his piece like he’s some bad ass mother fucker.”
He pulled her down on the couch, unmindful of the couch’ missing leg and eased the hem of her dress up. Again, she endured his thrusts and jabs into her pussy.
“Why canlı casino you never suck it no more?” he asked when he finished pumping his seed into her womb.
“Never give me a fucking chance,” she thought.
“You want me to suck it, all you got to do is ask,” she said flatly.
“Rather suck it than get knocked up with your fucking kid,” she thought as she dabbed her pussy free of his semen. “I bet I know what kind of dad you’d be.”
The meth had worn off long ago; thankfully Latavius and Pat were in no mood to stick around. Their combined semen dribbled freely from her pussy and stretched anus as the three boys dressed. She stood, nude and watched as they dressed in her living room.
Joel had made her smile, despite the growing cramps in her belly when he quietly asked her for her phone number.
“Must have been the drugs,” Dee told herself, again kicking herself for actually giving him her phone number.
Finally, at one o’clock in the morning, she passed out from a combination of vodka and marijuana and exhaustion.
Marvin was still sputtering obscenities at the unknown Latin male that had stood up to his bluster when Anita lay down on the small, hard bed and willed herself to go to sleep.
The bed was uncomfortable; Marvin did not see a need for a mattress pad and did not see a need to buy good sheets. Nor did he afford his ‘queen’ a pillow with any measurable support to it. Thankfully, he did not begrudge her the several blankets and quilts she liked to sleep under.
Dee groaned in absolute agony as her cell phone chirped and vibrated on her nightstand. She knocked it off of the table and onto the carpeted floor, stilling the rattling of the tiny box.
Then her land line began to ring. She screamed at it, but did not answer it, letting it go to the answering machine.
“Hi, this is Dee, sorry I’m not here right now, at the sound of the beep, leave me your name and phone number and if you don’t leave me your name and phone number I’m not calling you back,” her cheerful voice sang out.
“Dee?” Sonja’s frantic voice cut through her moans. “Dee, this is Sonja, Dee where are you? I tried your cell phone and there wasn’t any answer and now your regular phone and we’re in, where is this place?”
Dee heard Sonja yell at her twin sister, barely pulling her mouth away from the phone’s mouthpiece.
“No, no, you goober, I know this is an Exxon, I mean what’s the name of this town?” Sonja yelled at her sister.
“We’re in Little Hills; it’s this little town in Ari…” Sonja frantically said into the telephone.
Dee grabbed her candlestick telephone and spoke into the mouthpiece.
“Sonja, I’m here,” Dee groaned.
“Oh thank God,” Sonja said then burst into tears.
“Sonja, what’s wrong, what happened?” Dee said, head pounding unmercifully.
“We were driving and the car started shaking and then smoke started coming out and Dummy Nadia said ‘oh it just needs to warm up, ’cause it’s cold in the mountains’ and I’m telling her it’s already warmed up but Stupid here says…”
“Give me that!” Dee heard Nadia scream.
She yelled into the telephone’s mouthpiece that she didn’t have time for all this foolishness, and then finally hung up on the twins’ scuffling and arguing.
A few minutes later, her cell phone rang and she scooped it up off the floor. She blinked in surprise when she saw the time flashing on her cell phone; it was six fourteen.
“Dee, I’m sorry, I guess we accidentally…” Sonja started off.
“Sonja, do you have any fucking idea what time it is?” Dee barked into the telephone.
“It’s, um, let me see,” Sonja said.
“Never mind, Sonja,” Dee barked. “What? What? What do you want, Sonja?”
Again, Sonja burst into tears and Dee regretted her anger. The cramps had awoken when she had been woken up but Sonja’s tears pushed the pain to the back of her consciousness.
“The car’s broke and the guy that towed us says it needs…” Sonja sobbed into the phone.
“How much?” Dee shrilled when Sonja gave her to dollar amount the mechanic had quoted the twins.
“And if we don’t get it fixed we can’t get back to DeGarde in time and this is our last semester and that’s why we left four days early and the mechanic said the bus takes at least three days to get us there and…” Sonja begged.
“Sonja, that car’s not WORTH seven hundred dollars,” Dee interrupted.
“But how’re we going to get there?” Sonja shrilled.
“Dee, please?” Nadia’s voice replaced her sister’s. “We’ll pay you back, I swear.”
“How, Nadia?” Dee snapped. “You still haven’t paid me back for the clutch plate or the water pump or…”
“I know, but, Dee!” Nadia whined.
“Okay, where are y’all at again?” Dee asked and yanked open her nightstand drawer.
She found a pen and smiled sardonically when the only thing she found to write on was an opened box of condoms.
“Would have come in handy last night,” she thought.
“Okay, there a motel or something around?” Dee asked after writing down the address kaçak casino and phone number of the Exxon station in Little Hills, Arizona.
“Oh, the mechanic said we could stay at his place while we waited on the car,” Nadia giggled.
“Is. There. A. Motel. Or Hotel. Anywhere. Around There?” Dee spat out into the telephone.
“Yes ma’am, there’s a Holiday Inn right across the Interstate from here,” Nadia answered, bubbly giggle cut short.
“Okay, give me about an hour, then go and check in,” Dee said.
“What about the car?” Nadia asked. “The mechanic wants to know if he should order the parts or not.”
“Tell the mechanic to go fuck himself; he’s not getting a penny out of anyone for touching that car,” Dee said.
“But Dee, how are we…?” Nadia asked, the whine creeping back into her voice.
“I’m coming to get you,” Dee said.
She winced as Nadia excitedly squealed to her sister, “She’s coming to get us!”
“Dee, really?” Sonja’s happy voice bubbled through. “Really, you’re coming for us?”
“Yes,” Dee said, tiredly; the cramps were killing her. “Be there, shit, it’ll probably take me a whole day, but I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
She hung up on Sonja’s happy declarations of love.
She staggered into the second bedroom of her apartment and turned on the computer. Moments later, she’d reserved a room at the Holiday Inn for the twins, then went onto MapQuest and looked at how far away Little Hills, Arizona was from DeGarde, Louisiana.
“Twenty seven hours, nineteen minutes,” MapQuest told her.
She would be driving for twenty seven hours.
She fixed a pot of coffee, and then staggered into the bathroom.
A glance into the mirror caused her to gasp in shock. She looked down at her pubic mound and groaned.
A whore. She was a whore, just like her mother.
Maybe she wasn’t fucking for money, but that was a minor distinction.
Sobbing, she got into the shower and tried to wash away the shame and degradation.
And that boy, Joel; he had kissed her. Just after her mouth had been around his buddy’s cock, sucking it like a ten dollar Crack whore, he put his lips to hers and kissed her. After she’d let him fuck her up the ass, fucked his two buddies, let all of them come in her, he’d asked her for her phone number.
Clean on the outside, she finally got out of the shower and went into the bedroom. She shoved a couple of changes of clothes into the duffel bag, making sure to drop a handful of tampons and panty liners into the side pocket.
“Fucking hate my period!” she screamed, slipping on some clothes, loose shorts and oversized tee shirt. Unfortunately, her breasts were too large to forego wearing a bra; she could do it, but she’d attract a lot of unwanted attention if she did so she picked out her loosest bra.
The cramps were murder now and she thought very briefly about doing a couple of lines, smoking a joint or two, but thought better of it.
“Last fucking thing I need is to get busted in Texas,” she thought.
Thermos of coffee in hand, she locked up her apartment, stomped down the stairs, and got into her pickup truck.
At a gas station, she saw her mother. Precious Jones was just climbing down from a tractor-trailer rig and her eyes met her daughter’s eyes. Both women averted their eyes in shame.
“Yeah, you ain’t doing it for money, but you ain’t anything but a fucking whore,” Dee thought bitterly, finished filling her tank, and got into her truck.
Anita looked in the refrigerator and grimaced at the sparse contents.
“Uh huh, but you make good and sure you got lots of beer,” she muttered under her breath.
“What?” Marvin demanded loudly, startling her.
“I said, there ain’t anything to eat,” Anita whined.
“What you talking ’bout, Willis?” Marvin smirked, doing his Gary Coleman imitation.
That had amused her the first few times he’d done that; he pouted just like Gary Coleman’s character Arnold, from the television show ‘Different Strokes.’
It wasn’t cute any longer; it was irritating. Infuriating at times.
“Look, there’s nothing in here,” Anita said, pointing to the refrigerator.
“Hmm,” he said, looking at the nearly empty box. “Don’t know what to tell you.”
She rooted around in the pantry, found the corn meal, and made them corn meal pancakes.
“See?” Marvin said smugly. “There’s plenty.”
At that moment, she was glad that three of the four light bulbs in the light fixture were blown out; he couldn’t see the murderous look she gave him. If she’d had a sharp knife in her hand, she would have stabbed him, would have aimed for his heart.
“Yeah, well there ain’t nothing for lunch, nothing for dinner,” she reminded him after a long moment.
“Yeah, well, I get a couple of bucks, I get something from Piggly Wiggly,” Marvin said.
“No, let me go; you always forgetting stuff,” Anita said.
She knew he wouldn’t, though. At first, she had thought it was so sweet, a man offering to do the grocery shopping. Now, she saw it was just another way of him controlling her, controlling what she ate, what she cooked for him. The one time he’d relented and given her money to do the shopping, he’d complained about everything she’d bought.
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