Chapter 9: Pot Party

It was unavoidable.

Sooner or later my buds -- stoners, slackers, dweebs, misfits -- would be showing up at my back door, wondering why the neighborhood dope den has suspended operations.

The first of them to drop in was Joey (Dude) Durham, the night of our big extended family feast. "Dude" was a self-appointed nickname, since he'd attempted to see The Big Lebowski at least 30 times -- "attempted" because he kept falling asleep. I'm all but convinced he's never made it all way through.

"PackRat," known to his parents as Ranji Patel, was my closest bud buddy and arrived soon after. Having told him I had to give up my primo stash (not why), he did what a true friend does: he stole someone else's stash to give to me.

Thanks to cellular technology, word quickly spread that I had let Dude and PackRat into the den. Showing up, like always, to get a hit or two and go on their merry way, were "Skeeter," "Ace" (because of his lone tattoo), "Freeloader" and "M.J." Of this group, M.J. was the most welcome, as she once upon a time was a reasonably good-looking girl who I had a crush on in elementary school. But she discovered dope and sex at the same time (well before I did either). She had been such an easy lay, it was rumored, that it wasn't even funny. What was true was that she'd had two abortions by her 16th birthday. But her family was a) loaded and b) in denial, so abortions took place routinely and parties at her house were legendary.

Of course, her name was neither Mary nor Jane -- she was Lucille Vandiver, a senior classmate (but no friend) of Mickey who could thank her parents' donations to the school for her pending graduation.

I contemplated making her my final inclusion, but I was convinced she was happy as is. The last vial was well-hidden as I held court. As word spread about my new girl friend, I was THE MAN with these guys.

"How, Wright? She a secret druggie?" PackRat asked. I shook my head.

"She get knocked up? You pay to abort?" asked Dude. Nope.

"You're blackmailing her!" M.J. squealed. Shook my head.

As the pot cloud thickened (I'd learned to cover my vents), speculation ran dry. Almost.

"I know. You've got one of those Master PC computer programs I read about on the Internet," Skeeter exclaimed.

"Man, that shit's not real," said PackRat, who was a true computer geek.

I was loving this.

"Why don't I let her tell you herself?" I said finally. I stumbled over to the door. "Candice! In here, woman!"

Everyone shut up. Sure enough, in walked my golden girl, wearing a skimpy tank top and little white shorts. She kissed me, took my hand and followed me, stepping over the prone stoners to my cushion, where she curled up with me like a kitten.

No one said anything.

Finally, I cleared my throat. I offered my joint to Candice who declined.

"Everyone was asking questions a minute ago," I said. "So ask."

"Candice," M.J. finally said, leaning close. "What's the deal?"

"Lucille," she said, smiling sweetly. "I just like the taste of his dick."

With that, Candice brought said dick out of my jeans and proceeded to show the gathered stoners that she meant it. I sat back and puffed a small cloud, arms behind my head, and let her bring me off slowly but surely with her perfect mouth.

At one point, she took the roach out of my mouth, took a major puff on it, returned it to my mouth and proceeded to deep throat me for nearly 30 seconds. Only then did she come up for air and exhale an impressive cloud of smoke.

Two people actually went, "du-u-u-u-de." I grinned and pushed her flawless face back down on my crotch. After cumming, loudly, I let her lick me clean and, only then, did she finish off my (other) joint. She resumed her curled up position and took a puff worthy of a veteran.

"Damn," PackRat said with a whistle.

About that time came a tap at the door.

"Michael?" came my mom's voice.

"Yeah, Mom?" I managed.

"You have another friend who'd like to come in," she called through the door.

"Who is it?" I asked, wondering if one of my buds was brain dead enough to show up at the front door.