Chapter 3 #2
She slides out of the seat, coming to stand next to me, and holding out her hand. The black polish on her nails is chipped.
“What about your mom?” I ask as I take her hand and allow her to guide me from the seat. My thighs protest slightly in discomfort as I stand.
“She ain’t really around,” Trish scoffs, and she turns and heads around the back of the small home.
I follow.
“So it’s just you and your stepdad then?” I ask her as we round the home and climb a creaking back porch.
“Yup,” she replies, popping the ‘p’ at the end. She walks up to a glass sliding door and pulls it open, standing back and gesturing for me to enter.
The small home is cramped but nice enough. Stale cigarette smoke lingers in the warm air and there’s a pile of dishes in the sink of the small kitchen, but otherwise, it’s pretty barren, unlived in almost. I want to ask her more questions but I keep my mouth shut. I don’t want to be rude.
“My room’s back this way,” Trish says as she walks past me in a blur of black and blue.
She leads me down an ill-lit hallway. The yellowing floral wallpaper is peeling in corners, exposing the raw walls beneath.
We turn left into a small bedroom. The walls have been painted black but you can barely see them behind the posters and prints hung on almost every inch of wall.
There’s a twin bed on the far wall. Above it is a red pentagram.
Trish flips the switch on the wall and the pentagram glows red, bathing the room in an eerie light.
“Dope, right?” she asks, but it’s not really a question and I’m not really going to answer. Instead, I swallow down my unease and take a step further into her room.
She drops her bag on her bed, rummaging through the contents with her back to me. I glance at the walls, checking out the posters. They’re mostly band posters—Metallica, Iron Maiden, Black Sabbath. Death metal. Satan’s music.
“Here we go!” My eyes snap back to Trish as she shouts. She’s triumphantly looking at me and holding a bag of weed. “Ready to light up?”
I nod my head. Part of me feels like I should probably get the fuck out of here. But a louder part of me really wants to just get fucked up and forget.
“Good girl,” she praises before turning to her desk and preparing a joint. She grinds and rolls with expert precision, turning to me with a fat joint perched between her delicate fingers just a moment later. “Ladies first,” she coos as she holds out the stick.
I let her slide the paper between my lips.
I can taste her on my tongue as the joint sits in my mouth.
She brings a ZIppo up, flipping the switch, and letting the flickering flame touch the tip.
I pull in a long hit, the burning smoke coating my throat and lungs until I feel as if I’m suffocating.
I close my eyes and let the drugs hit me.
Slowly, I pull the joint away and blow out the smoke.
It takes a moment, but when the muscles in my arms get a little looser, I know the drug is hitting me.
“That’s good,” I tell Trish as I pass her the joint. She pinches it between her thumb and pointer and takes a long hit.
“Wait until the high truly hits, sweetheart.” She smirks, and I swear her canines seem to glint in the red light of the room.
“Give me another taste?” I ask her as my eyes fall to the low cut of her black tee. Her breasts are small but perky. I bite my lip as I stare at them.
She grabs me by the hip, pulling me against her roughly.
I let out a small, surprised gasp. Her dark skin is so smooth and silky.
I run my fingers along her arm and watch as the hairs stand on end.
Her fingers grip my chin, tilting my face to hers.
She pulls in a long drag from the joint before she leans over me, locking her lips against mine, and blowing the smoke into my slightly parted mouth.
I moan pleasurably in response as the burning herbs coat my tongue and her sugary sweetness lands on my lips.
“You taste good.” I giggle as I pull back.
“Oh yeah?” she asks as she cocks a pierced eyebrow. “And what if I want to taste you?”
She’s right—the high is fully hitting me now. I feel… light; like there’s nothing and no one who could harm me at this moment. I wonder to myself if it’s really and truly just weed in the joint but I’m too high to truly care. I hum a tune in my head and let the warmth spread through my body.
Oh shit, I’m laying on the bed. When did I get to the bed? How’d I get to the bed? A small giggle escapes my lips as I stare up at the ceiling.
Her drugs are deadly.
“Relax, sweetheart, let me make you feel good,” Trish purrs seductively, and I realize she’s on top of me, her body pressed to mine. How long has she been there?
I blink, and when I open my eyes, I’m naked.
Where’d my clothes go? The cool air pricks at my skin, making the hair stand on end.
I don’t remember taking off my pants… Am I blacking out?
I move to push a lock of red hair out of my face but it’s difficult to get my arm to cooperate fully.
I hit something hard with my hand. It’s a body.
Trish is straddling me, her mouth around one of my breasts.
Her pierced tongue flicks my aching nipple and I mewl loudly, my hips lifting off the bed.
“That’s it, stay with me, sweetheart. I want you with me when you come all over my tongue,” she states as she pops off my tit. I whine at the loss of her wicked tongue.
“More,” I whimper in a shallow voice that sounds far away, as if I’m outside my own body, floating far away.
“You want more? Want me to make you cum?” she taunts as she travels down my body.
Her teeth nip at my skin, the pain a stark contrast to the distorted emptiness brought on by the drugs.
I whine and lift my hips off the bed, a silent plea.
Darkness threatens to pull me under again but I fight to hold onto consciousness.
I blink. I blink again. The world seems to spin and the pentagram hanging above the bed swirls.
“Such a pretty thing,” she purrs as she shoves my legs wide. “So ripe and pink.”
Her knuckles graze my throbbing folds between my thighs. My head falls to the side as my body goes slack. Every nerve seems to be completely overloaded—firing in pleasure and frozen in place simultaneously.
“Eat me.” The growled demand that leaves my lips shocks me. It doesn’t even sound like myself. It’s as if I’ve become possessed.
Trish chuckles as her fingers grip my thighs. Her hold is bruising as she spreads me wide and lowers herself. Her tongue licks a long, slow path across my heated center. I gasp at the sudden sensation. It feels good—no, better than good.
“Fuck,” I groan. “Is it the drugs,” her pierced tongue finds my swiftly swelling clit and she rubs the cool metal against it in a way that has my muscles twitching with overbearing pleasure, “Or are you just really good at this?”
My hips begin to move against her face as she licks and sucks at my throbbing pussy. Before I know it, my pleasure begins to crest. She releases one of my thighs, her fingers finding my drenched entrance and sliding in swiftly. She curls her fingers, rubbing against my inner walls.
“Shit! Yes! Don’t stop,” I pant as my pleasure rises.
She moves her body up and on top of me, pinning me to the bed with her weight. Her fingers slide in and out of me at a punishing pace, fucking me fiercely.
“Let me watch you cum, sweetheart,” she pleads as she looms above me.
My eyes roll back in my head, the red light from above blinding me. She adds a third finger, curling it in just the same way and sending me over the edge. I twist my neck backwards, the awkward angle completely unnatural, as my entire body goes rigid with electric pleasure.
“Fuck!” I scream as my orgasm crashes through me.
“Shit, baby, you’re gonna break my fingers.” Trish laughs, but she doesn’t stop. She fucks me through my orgasm, pulling out wave after wave of ecstasy.
When I finally start to come down, Trish slides her fingers out of me slowly.
My pussy clenches at the loss, trying to hold onto the pleasure for as long as possible.
She rolls off of me, falling on the bed beside me and perching her head on her hand.
I turn my head to look at her, a smile plastered on my face.
My eyelids are so heavy. They drop slightly.
Don’t sleep. Not here. You don’t even know her.
“That was fun.” My words are slow and slurred as they leave my lips.
I watch as Trish brings the fingers that were just inside of me to her plump, dark lips. She slides them inside her mouth and sucks. Fuck me.
“You taste as delicious as I expected,” she coos after licking my release clean from her hand.
Sober me would blush. But fucked up me laughs. “Maybe I’ll just ditch the party this weekend and come here to party more with you.” My eyes slide close against my will, and I can’t seem to find the strength to open them. “You’re fun.”
“What party?” she asks as I feel her push a lock of hair off my face.
“Stacey and Sam are having a party. They invited me.” My voice sounds a million miles away as consciousness slips through my fingers like sand. “It’s at a lake house.”
“You can’t go,” I hear Trish say. She sounds upset, angry even. But I’m too far gone to care. Warm darkness wraps itself around me in a sweet embrace. “Stay away from them. Promise me, you’ll stay away, for your own good,” is the last thing I hear before the darkness pulls me under.