Chapter 2

If these people were alcoholics, they were hiding it pretty damned well; nobody else was having the whips and jangles like me, and I sat on my hands, feeling the sick sweet film on my face while I tried to listen to what the man at the speaker's stand was saying. It wasn't making much sense.

Janet squeezed my arm comfortingly and leaned to whisper in my ear. That's Dan talking. He runs Hope House, and I'll introduce you after the meeting."

Trying to pay attention, I focused on the gray man.

This Dan had time tracks across his face and a hard mouth that looked as if it had tasted many bitter things. Slim and erect, he wore his silver hair like an arrogant banner, but he didn't talk that way. He spoke softly, directly, and with an underlying sincerity you hear only in church-if you're lucky. Dan reminded me somehow of dad, and I looked away.

"Cunning," he said, "cunning and baffling and powerful. That's what alcohol is, to people like us. It sneaks up on us so gradually."

I closed my eyes, and remembered.. .

The increased drinking helped it along, I guess. It got so I went through each day in a haze of gin and vermouth, an empty glass in the living room, a half-empty one by the bed, a full one in the kitchen. I didn't stagger around, understand-I just kept a glow on.

I needed George's screwing more as the months passed, because my husband was already into a rut: sex on Tuesday and Saturday nights, never breathlessly in the bright afternoons, never thrilling and unexpected on the couch; only properly in bed.

Don was so damned straight that he never let himself go, and wouldn't allow me to experiment Sex had to be missionary style or not at all, and the one time I slid down to try and kiss the tip of his erect cock, he shoved my head away, telling me that only whores would do a thing like that The son of a bitch.

Two things happened that brought things to the proverbial head: I discovered I was pregnant and Solomon himself couldn't say who was the father, Don or George. Then I got caught screwing my lover.

Don literally stumbled across George and me, because we were spread on the floor, coiled around each other and naked as desire itself. When my husband swung open the door, he tripped over us.

It was my fault, of course. I'd teased George into ducking over from his yard while his wife was out shopping. I didn't think and I didn't much care about anything except the quivering in my thighs and the humid twitching of my pussy. I knew only that my erect nipples were hurting against my blouse, and that I needed that big, hard prick.

When George slipped in the kitchen door, I backed away into the living room, but I didn't reach the couch. Whipping off my blouse and pulling my shorts over my hips, I presented my bare body to him, rolling my belly and cupping my tits in both hands.

"Come on, George-I need you, baby, need you now!"

He was grinning as he climbed out of his pants and dragged the tee-shirt over his head. I hunched my lower body at him, making my dewy cunt pout up at him, and it was my turn to smile when I saw his huge prick rising, swelling, turning long and thick with its distended head enlarging, puffing in its primal hunger.

"You're realty some kind of cunt," he said, "a hot ass little bitch who cant do without a hard cock for very long. Well here it is for you, Patti What are you going to do with it?"

"Grind it off at the roots," I said, moving toward him and rocking my hips back and forth. "Fuck you until you can't even breathe, much less raise another hard-on."

"Show me," he said, and took me into his arms, his massive, iron-hard cock pressing deeply into my belly.

My tits digging their points into his hairy chest, I writhed against him, burning up inside my pussy, so hungry for him that I was damned near blind with passion. We sank together to the floor, and I got one leg thrown across his body. George cupped the cheeks of my ass and rolled my crotch into his, massaging his erect shaft across my pulsing mound, his heavy balls dragging softly across my upper thigh.

Reaching down, I took his rod in my hand, thrilling at the majestic fed of it all warm and throbbing, at the pure size and heft of the meaty pole that would very soon be buried to the hilt inside my avid pussy. It was still difficult for me to believe the bigness of it My husband's cock couldn't begin to match the glory of that prick.

Moaning a little as George kissed me, I gave him my tongue and ran my teeth across his, my body turning metronome against his muscular one, tick-toe king back and forth in mute appeal as sharp ripples of urgent need shook me. Hand shaking, I guided the expanded knob of his prick into the receptive hairs of my pussy, steered it into the already wet lips so eager to stretch around it and pull his meat into the waiting depths.

George gave a little hump, and the dp of it pushed into my labia. I squirmed to force it deeper and slid joyfully down upon the thick shaft as it penetrated, as it worked powerfully into the slippery grasp of my vagina. The walls of my pussy closed around his cock, and I felt the big bead reach far back to prod against the cup of my womb. It was in me, in me. I reveled at the sensation of his prick filling my cunt, packing me with that lusciously hard meat

Stroking him on, I wiggled and heaved, rocking my ass up and down as George held on to the cheeks. Our bellies came together and clung for a moment then pulled apart as we struggled to fuck harder and deeper and stronger. It was so damned good, so exciting, that I was blind to anything else, to everything else, not giving a damn if the house fell in and we screwed ourselves right on down through the wreckage of the floor.

"Oohh!" I gasped. "George, George, darling-feed that beautiful meat to met Ram it up my pussy, fill me up with it-oh baby, fuck me, fuck me!"

He responded in his usual savage way, pounding his prick fiercely into my flexing cunt, reaching the end of my vagina and pulling back for another series of mighty, grinding strokes. I dug my fingernails into his shoulders and fastened my mouth to his throat, then slid it down to suck upon a nipple, chewing lightly and licking in time with the sliding rhythm of my piston-ing cunt.

It was hot and slippery inside there, his cock bringing forth all my loving oils, drawing out the juices of my pussy as he screwed me. I gyrated hungrily upon that lovely shaft, making-it touch all the ultra-sensitive places of my vagina, making it rake over the vibrant nub of my clitoris.

The violence of our fucking made us roll across the floor in a tangle of arms and legs, our crotches slamming at each other, biting and hunching and pumping like mad.

I-I'm coming," I moaned through clenched teeth. "Oh, you beautiful bastard-I'm coming!"

"Me, too," he grunted, matching my thrusts, slapping that hard shaft in and out of the suctioning velvet of my pussy. "Here, Patti-here it comes, you hot little cunt!"

I shivered and gasped in the throes of a tremendous orgasm, my entire body going tense and my legs stretching themselves to their full length. I felt the discharge of his semen as his cock head loosed it in a hissing stream of thick, creamy juice. George's come boiled inside my welcoming pussy, "bubbling and foamy as he continued to stroke, as he kept right on working that adorable prick into me.

This is heaven, I had thought, this is nirvana, and there can be nothing more moving, no emotion better. Drifting in a warm and loved somewhere paradise, I wiggled slowly on his embedded cock, loving the juicy caress of it so deeply within my vagina, happy just then as I could never be happy at any other moment

That's when my husband opened the front door and practically fell across us when he stepped into the living room. George saw him first and stiffened out so for one time-stopped second, we all stared at each other, my husband,, my lover and me. Then George moved, jerking his stiff cock out of my pussy and leaving a trail of sticky liquid down the inside of my thigh. He rolled away and came to his feet, his big body braced for trouble.

But Don only stood there white-faced and staring, not able to believe his eyes, so George scooped up his clothing and backed into the kitchen to get dressed.

I sat up, my fingertips digging into my aching thighs, somehow angry and with a sense of being robbed, for George and I would have fucked some more if my husband hadn't come crashing in upon us. Knees spread and my pussy glistening with my lover's semen, I just sat there and looked up at Don, not even trying to cover up my naked body.

From the kitchen, George said, "Look, Don-"

And Don answered, "Just get out"

I heard the back door slam. I climbed slowly to my feet, my nipples still hard with passion, my recent climax still rocketing through my body. Defiantly, I stared at my husband. He slapped me hard.

"Cover yourself," he said.

I licked my lips. "What for? You've seen my pussy before."

For a moment I thought he was going to kick me across the room, and maybe it would have been better if he had, but that kind of violence wasn't in him. Don had already strained hell out of Ins code of ethics by slapping me.

He strode into the bedroom and I went to find the gin bottle. Nineteen years old, and I was already running away from myself, finding a welcome numbness and a ready answer in alcohol Only men I didn't realize what I was doing, and what did Shaw say about youth being wasted on the young?

Gulping gin until it threatened to bounce back up, I staggered into the bedroom, still naked and with the smell of my lover upon my bare body. Don was throwing things into a suitcase, the perfect picture of the wronged husband. I stood there and laughed at him.

He said something about seeing his attorney, as if he actually knew a lawyer, and I said, "The hell you will."

He frowned at me. "Patti I don't want to hear anything from you."

"You'll listen to this," I said, "because I'm pregnant and you'll never prove it's not yours."

Don collapsed on the bed and put his face into his hands.

For a split second, I was ashamed of myself, but that passed. Anger is a defense mechanism, the shrinks claim, and it was defending me then. So were about six shots of gin.

I gave him hell-blaming the poor bastard for everything-screaming that he wasn't man enough to keep a wife from screwing somebody else, that he wasn't worth a damn in bed, and the things that stroke at the depths of a man's being. And I made sure he didn't forget the baby.

Finally I ran down and started feeling shitty again. I put my hands on his head, but he wouldn't look up. I remember the gin boiling through my blood, remember seeing his light hair only inches away from my swollen tits. I pressed them against his head and shoved my body against his, standing between his spread knees.

When Don didn't resist, I leaned against him, forcing him back on the bed, and covered him with my naked body, my thighs straddling his as I fumbled for his zipper. I kept whispering to him, telling him that it was all right, that we could go right on fucking each other, that I was hot enough to handle both him and George.

I was turned on in a way that had never happened to me before, stirred by one man and suddenly wanting this other one. Don lay quietly beneath me, but his cock began to stiffen in my fingers as I played with it Before it was fully hard, I forced the head of it up into my dripping pussy.

There, I thought triumphantly, I had my husband's cock in me, right inside the same hungry pussy that was still greasy with another man's semen, and I was shaken by the fierceness of my emotions. Hunching down on his prick, I wiggled and ground, making it move within my vagina as Don simply lay there without moving, without even putting his arms around me.

That made it better. It was as if I was raping him, forcing him to fuck even when he didn't want to do it and a drunken sense of power swept through me. Stroking up and down on his stiff prick, I whispered down to him, telling him how it could be for both of us and George, too.

It'll be better for you," I murmured, "if I fuck George first, then get this sweet cock in me where it's all juicy. My pussy will be hotter for you, darling-it'll be all wet with George's come, and you'll like it more because I'll be hotter. And maybe we can get Us wife to fuck you, too. Won't that be-ahh-ooh-won't that be wonderful, Don?"

Thrusting on his prick, I felt him quiver, and hurried my stroke to make him come. He did, spurting and spitting his load of semen into my gulping pussy, only minutes after I had been fucked by somebody else.

He lay there without moving, his cock softening as I whipped up and down on it to reach my own orgasm. It was a wild one when it hit, making my pussy flex strongly around his buried shaft, and I clawed at his limp body as I came.

Whispering, I said, "And I'll show you something George taught me, darling. I'll go down on you and eat your prick, just the way he made me eat his."

Don moved then, jerking his weakening shaft out of my jealous pussy and rolling off the bed, all in one savage movement Glaring down at me, he hissed. "You no good bitch! What kind of damned animal are you? You-I-"

"You liked it" I said. "You lay there and let me fuck you."

He shuddered, zipping up his pants and biting his lips. Then he said coldly, "Never again, damn you. You'll never do that to me again."

Propped on one elbow, I watched him whip out of the room. He didn't take his suitcase. I lay back on the pillow and thought of the gin bottle, but the stuff was already heavy in my blood and I closed my eyes for a minute.

Someone was pulling at my arm. "Patti-are you all right? Do you want to go back upstairs?"

Janet's small face was intent, staring into mine, and I shook my head. "Just woozy; I'll be okay."

Somebody else was on the stand and I asked who it was. She said the guy's name was Mark, that he'd been the man who brought me to Hope House. I saw a guy in his mid-thirties, hair thinning a bit over a thin face with a crooked nose. He was tall and a little stooped, hands big and freckled as he gripped the stand

The crowd laughed at things he said, and he laughed with them. The sign had been there all the time, but I just noticed it: "Easy Does It."

Hell I thought, easy did it with Don, although he had to sell the house. The abortion was easy, too, just a quick knife, and Don could start the divorce proceedings. Everything was fixed, for good or bad. I can never have another child.

"Janet," I said, "let's get the hell out of here."

Stomach churning and my face hot, I fled down the aisle between rows of folding chairs with Janet's hand on my elbow. We stumbled upstairs together while every cell in my body screamed for a drink, just one drink to ease the cramps. At the bedroom door I hung onto the knob and retched, but nothing came up.

I made it to the bed aid sat down. "I need a drink."

She sat beside me and pulled my head to her shoulder, patting me on the back as if I was a child with a skinned knee. "Patti, I know how sick you are-"

"The hell you do."

"Sure I do. I've been just as sick."

"Then you understand that Fve got to have a drink!"

Her eyes were very soft "How about a cigarette?"

That stopped me. I didn't really mean to scream at her. "Okay."

She lighted it and passed it to me. "The doctor will look in on you again tonight. If you're really bad-tranquilizers and a Vitamin B shot But don't lean on the pills. That's just substituting for alcohol, and that kind of sobriety won't last long."

I thought that nothing lasted-not the muscled hardness of a man's shaft working into my pussy; not words of love and happiness, and how damned fleeting was an orgasm so greedily sought after and so soon gone? Maybe pain and sorrow passed, too.

Before the doctor came around, I managed a shower, but soap and water didn't reach inside me, only cooling my skin while my mouth remained dusty. He gave me pills and stack me with a needle and said to rest The pills took hold and as I drifted into an easy sleep, somebody laughed in the living room.