Chapter 21: Elyse

My vignette: OSL: Elyse is a prerequisite for this chapter. If you have not read OSL: Elyse, stop reading now and go back to read that vignette. Otherwise this chapter won't make much sense.

ELYSE

-- JULY 2003 --

It wasn't raining. Aren't funerals supposed to be held under gray clouds and damp air? Every time I thought about a funeral, I imagined people huddled under black umbrellas wearing black clothing while forlornly watching the casket being lowered into the ground. And always it was raining.

Not today. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the sun beat down upon us. It was over a hundred degrees, and instead of looking forlorn, the attending guests merely looked uncomfortable in their suits and long dresses. I was sure they didn't really want to be here. Why would they? It wasn't like they were close friends. Most were work colleagues who didn't want to be the only one from the office who didn't show up. A couple were neighbors, which was weird because we'd never been close to our neighbors.

As the minister droned on, I caught several people glancing around as if wondering how long they'd have to politely stand there and listen before they could escape to their cars and their air conditioning. Guess that's what they get for living in Orange County.

Who the hell picked this guy anyway? He was boring and stuffy and didn't know jack shit about Daddy. I hadn't made the funeral arrangements, Randi did. Fucking ironic, huh? Two-bit gold-digging whore traps Daddy into marrying her by holding his incestuous relationship with me over his head, and SHE wants to make God a part of this ceremony? Fuck, none of us were religious, and all this bullshit about being in the hands of God only made me mad. If there was a God, he certainly wouldn't be smiling over my father. Not that daughter-fucking bastard who popped all my cherries and got me hooked on crystal meth so he could keep fucking me.

But that was over now. Daddy would never fuck me again. At least the last time we were together ended pretty well. Sure, Daddy probably got more out of it than I did; he always concentrated on his own pleasure more than mine. But it had been pretty enjoyable for me too as Daddy-fucks go, and he'd promised me a new Mercedes G500 just like the one Brad Pitt drives. Only he hadn't lived long enough to actually buy it for me, and now I'd never get it.

That was the other bullshit part of this agreement. Don't ask me how she did it, but my greedy bitch of a stepmother conned Daddy into rewriting his Will. Doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that he left everything to HER.

Not me. Not his flesh and blood daughter. Not the little girl he'd deflowered in every way and warped with his twisted predations until I was a fucked-up excuse for a human being.

Her. The gold-digging whore. She got everything.

Well, there were some mutual funds, a 401K, and a life insurance policy already in my name that wouldn't be taken away. And Daddy had left me a pittance of a trust fund that would only pay for my college education and nothing beyond that. Really, Randi got control of everything else. Bank accounts? Hers. Stocks and mutual funds? Hers. The house? Hers. And she'd already told me she was kicking me out the minute the funeral was over. That evil, manipulative whore of a stepmother had never liked me, and had only used me as leverage to get Daddy to buy HER whatever SHE wanted. The day I'd left for college, she'd talked Daddy into remodeling my bedroom into HER office, and I'd been stuck living out of the guest room every time I visited. Bitch made ME a stranger in my own house. And now she'd taken my inheritance.

But at least I'd now be free of her. Yeah, she had taken EVERYTHING away from me, but good fucking riddance.

And now I was alone.

Don't get me wrong, there was a lot about my relationship with Daddy that wasn't all roses and happiness. Other than sex, we were never close, and he hadn't been a significant part of my daily life since I was a tween. I'd grown up fast, learning how to make all my own decisions and get through life without his guidance or advice. The only time we ever spent together anymore was time for him to fuck me, and while some part of me would miss that little bit of contact, a girl that looked like me could get laid anytime she wanted.

But now I was alone.

The trust fund would pay for school, room, and board for the next two years. I wouldn't be financially well-off the way I'd been for most of my life, but I'd get by until I could get a job and move forward. At least in the future I wouldn't have to share anything with my evil stepmother (now EX-stepmother). Daddy's lack of parental influence meant that I wouldn't miss anything emotionally going forward. I'd go back to college and simply move on. Really, I'd been alone for a long time already.

But now I was REALLY alone.

No Daddy. No stepmother. Not even distant relatives.

No inheritance. No financial support. Not even the house that I grew up in.

Now I was alone.

It really didn't take that long for the guests to leave. Only half of them had come back to the house after the funeral, and like I said, none of them really wanted to be there, not even Randi. The sun hadn't even set before she came by, told me that I'd better be gone in the morning, and left with some other guy's arm around her waist and his hand on her ass.

Good luck with THAT, bub. Hope you don't end up like my dad.

Good fucking riddance.

Now that everyone was gone, I went straight to my room (the guest room) and stripped out of the somber black dress. It went straight into the trash; no fucking way I'd ever wear THAT again. Feeling morose, I slipped into some baggy sweatpants and an old T-shirt before returning downstairs and opening up Daddy's liquor cabinet. It felt like a good time for Scotch, and I picked out a bottle of 18-year-old Glenmorangie. Most of my belongings were already packed and ready to move into storage. I hadn't taken the liquor, not while Randi had still been in the house. But you can bet I'd box it up and bring it with me come tomorrow morning.

I lost track of how many times I re-filled my tumbler, or how many minutes ticked by on the grandfather clock in the living room, but the sun had set and I was feeling no pain when the doorbell rang. Not feeling like having visitors at a time like this, I ignored it the first time. But whoever was at the door wouldn't go away because the doorbell rang again along with a firm knock and a call of "Elyse? You okay in there?"

The voice was masculine and familiar, but I didn't place it immediately. Still, whoever he was, he obviously cared enough to check in on me. And in my current state of melancholy and solitude, to know that somebody still cared about me was a relief. So I got up and went to the door, peered through the peephole, and jerked back in surprise to see a blast from my past on the front porch.

Opening the door, I asked in pleasant surprise, "Joey? Joey Sumarkis?"

Blushing bashfully, the handsome young man shrugged and smiled back at me. "I just go by 'Joe' now, actually."

"Aww, you'll always be my Joey..." I drawled, belated realizing just how drunk I really was at this point. His eyes briefly flashed down to my chest, and I remembered that I had neglected to wear a bra underneath this T-shirt. I glanced down as well and noticed that my nipples had hardened for some reason, so I blushed and turned into the room, walking somewhat unsteadily as I looked around for a robe or something else to cover myself with.

He followed me inside and closed the door behind him, beginning, "I heard about your dad. I'm sorry. I would've come by earlier, but I wasn't invited to the funeral and didn't want to intrude."

Wordlessly I waved him off, my head twisting left and right still looking around for a robe. But I must have turned a little too fast because the room started spinning, and suddenly I saw the floor rushing up to meet my face. But before it hit me, strong arms caught me around my waist and hauled me back upright.

"Whoa! You okay there?" Joey asked with obvious concern on his face.

I giggled drunkenly and burped in his face before gesturing at the bottle of Glenmorangie and the glass tumbler beside it on the coffee table. "I think I had one too many..."

"I'll say," he said while helping me stagger over to the couch and sit down beside him.

The instant my butt hit the cushion, I felt my equilibrium return and everything snapped back into focus. I was still buzzing off the alcohol and the adrenaline rush of falling and being caught by my high school boyfriend. I had a lot of fond memories of the time we'd shared, and a lot of gratitude in this very moment both for catching me and for simply being here at a time like this. So without a moment's hesitation, I lifted my legs across his lap while wrapping my arms behind his neck. And pulling his face toward mine, I parted my lips and sealed them over his mouth.

Joey kissed me back for a half-second before pulling away and holding a hand up between us. "Elyse, Elyse! You're drunk."

"Yesh I am," I slurred before batting my eyelashes and giving him a seductive smile. "But my dad just died and I'm feeling really lonely. I'm glad you came. I'm really glad you came, okay? Please?"

He grimaced. "I don't want to take advantage of you."

Relaxing my arms, I moved my hands to grip his head behind both of his ears. And staring straight into his face, I calmly ordered, "Joey ... shut up."

And I kissed him again.

I woke up feeling cotton-mouthed the next morning, face down and naked on the guest room bed. The blankets covered me up to my lower back, and when the room swam into focus, I realized that there was a tray on the nightstand with a Starbucks cup and a take-out bag from Mimi's Café. Joey was nowhere to be seen, but he obviously hadn't left me to completely fend for myself. I wondered if he was still in the house or if he'd gone and perhaps left a parting note with breakfast. No matter: I'd managed on my own just fine for years already.

Sitting up in bed, I took the coffee and found it still quite warm. After taking several sips, I sighed and let my head sag back against the headboard, impacting the hardwood with a muffled thump.

Moments later, Joey appeared in the doorway. I was still naked and his eyes went wide as they dropped to my exposed tits, lingering there for an extra half-beat before he managed to bring his gaze back up to my face.

I smirked and shook my head. "Don't be so bashful. Nothing you haven't seen before, especially last night."

He grinned and went back to ogling me. "You're gorgeous, Elyse. Always were, always will be."

"You're such a charmer." I took another sip of my coffee and gestured to the bag. "Thanks for breakfast."

"Least I could do." He came in and sat on the edge of the mattress beside me, reaching over and stroking my leg. "How are you feeling?"

"Hung-over, but not bad. I'm used to it."

"Used to feeling hung-over?"

"It's been a rough couple of years."

"I'm sorry." He looked like he truly was. "Want to talk about it?"

"Gawd no," I scoffed and drank more of my coffee. "What I want is to get baked and make this headache go away."

"Get baked?" he asked in surprise.

Setting the coffee down, I opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out a plastic baggie filled with something Joey would be quite familiar with. Smirking, I arched an eyebrow and said, "C'mon. My dad just died, it's summer vacation, and I'm really not in the mood for a lecture."

His hands went up defensively right away. "No lecture. Not here to moralize over you. I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I'll be more okay once I get a good buzz going, but it's more fun to smoke a fatty with company. Join me? Please?"

Joey took a deep breath, shrugged, and replied, "Sure, I guess."

"Thanks, Joey. For being here at a time like this."

He smiled warmly. "For you, Elyse, always."

-- AUGUST 2003 --

"Mmm..." I moaned, pressing Joey's face deeper against my crotch. His thick tongue slithered deeper inside my canal, filling me with wet warmth that quickly retracted before wrapping around my sensitive clit. "You're so good at that. Why the hell did we ever break up?"

Joey's mumbled response was lost between my thighs, but it was a rhetorical question anyway. He may have tried to pick his head up to say something, but the moment I felt his pressure slackening, I put my hand on the back of his head and shoved him back down. He took the hint and furiously ate me to a climax. And when I came down from that little high, I grabbed his shoulders and urgently yanked on them until he crawled up my body and slid his throbbing hard cock into my cunt.

"Fuck yeah..." I groaned, feeling my insides stretch to accommodate him. I let my head loll to the side while flopping my arms back behind me. And I crooned as he began to thrust, sending sparkles of pleasure sensations along my limbs and spine.

With my eyes closed as I savored the feeling, I clenched my pussy muscles to give him extra sensation as he pistoned in and out of me since I wasn't actively meeting his thrusts with my hips. It was nice, but I felt like taking another hit. So rather lazily, I let my left hand drift over to the nightstand where my still-smoking joint sat in an ashtray.

Unfortunately, we'd rotated around a bit in our fucking, and I was currently positioned so that the joint was just out of reach. I stretched and rolled a bit, unable to quite get to it. And after a moment, I put a hand to Joey's chest to stop his thrusts while I sat up and twisted around to grab the joint, all with his cock still in me.

"Jeez, seriously?" Joey sighed. "Can we just get through one fuck without you having to stop and get another hit?"

I shot him an evil glare, and Joey immediately looked apologetic. My eyebrows furrowed and my eyes hard, I quite deliberately took a long drag on the joint and exhaled the smoke right into Joey's face. He coughed and turned his face. "You want to get off in me? Or get off me?"

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, his eyes still averted. For emphasis, he pushed forward with his hips, keeping his dick firmly imbedded inside me.

But my mood was broken, and I roughly shoved at his chest with one hand while twisting my hips away. He sighed as he backed up, his still-erect dick popping free of my vagina. I turned and swung my legs off the bed in the other direction, taking another drag and feeling the weed fill my lungs.

"I'm sorry, Elyse," he said again, sliding across the bed and rubbing my spine. "You know I understand what you're going through and how hard this has all been. I'm here for you. I was just mid-thrust and getting close to cumming when you stopped me. It was the orgasm talking, alright? I didn't mean anything by it."

"You weren't near orgasm yesterday when you suggested that I should cut back a bit."

"It was just a suggestion. It's not my place to judge you and I'm not saying you're an addict or anything. But it's been weeks since your dad died and you go back to school in two days. Seems like you've been smoking non-stop this entire time, and I just want to make sure you'll be alright once you go back to Berkeley and I can't keep an eye on you."

"Who says I need anybody to keep an eye on me? I've been doing just fine on my own for a lot longer than a few weeks."

"I know, I know." His eyes briefly darted around his bedroom.

I frowned. "I didn't HAVE to move in with you. I could've just gone back to my apartment in Berkeley!"

"I didn't say anything!"

"I can manage just FINE on my OWN!"

"Elyse, calm down. Seriously." His erection had finally flagged and he was rubbing my arm. "I'm not a narc trying to bust you and I'm no drug-purist claiming I'm holier than thou. I just care about you, alright? Always have."

I looked away. It was no secret that Joey Sumarkis was in love with me. Hell, he'd probably been in love with me since high school. But still, he had this annoying habit of saying the WRONG thing at the WRONG time. Why couldn't he just have been happy to go back to thrusting once I got my hit? Then HE would have been happy and -I- would have been happy and everybody would have been happy! FUCK!

"Look, I'm sorry I got caught up in my ejaculation. You mean so much more to me than just sex, and I'm really not trying to piss you off."

"Forget it."

"I'm sorry."

"I said forget it." I slipped off the bed and started hunting around for my panties.

"C'mon. Let me make you dinner, huh? Or we can go out. Find a nice restaurant, get a couple of glasses of wine, or maybe head out to the beach and watch the waves crashing. You always liked that."

I shook my head. "Not the restaurant. Can't toke up there. The beach maybe."

Joey grimaced at the mention of toking up again.

I saw it and immediately snarled, "Hey fuck you."

"I didn't say anything!" His hands went up defensively.

"But you were thinking it, weren't you?" I shook my head and hopped into my panties. "I should go."

"Elyse, no. Don't do this."

"Maybe it's for the best if I just leave for good now," I sighed, shaking my head as I tugged my jeans on as well. "I'm going to have to leave you sooner or later. School starts in a few days anyway. Really, I might as well drive up to Berkeley right now."

His face fell. "Elyse ... no..."

"What? You thought I was going to give up my next two years of college to stay here with you? You'd comfort me while I mourned the loss of my father and that I'd fall in love with you and get married?" I fastened my bra and started pulling on my shirt. "Get real, Joey. You've been a soft landing and a willing schmuck to take care of me, but that's it. It's been nice catching up with you. You were always a great fuck, but that's it. My family's gone, and there's nothing holding me to my hometown anymore. I'd have been gone in two days anyway, and I was never coming back. Really ... I might as well leave now."

"But Elyse ... please..."

I shook my head while finishing with my sweater, and finally I stood up and grabbed my purse. "Goodbye, Joey."

-- SEPTEMBER 2003 --

"C'mon, Elyse. You gotta get out of the apartment SOME time."

I sighed and looked over at Celeste, my roommate. Her hand was still on the doorknob and she was leaning into my room while keeping her feet behind the doorway. The position made her halter top sag downward and gave me an unobstructed view of her cleavage.

Celeste grinned impishly once she realized where I was looking and said, "You aren't going to stick your face into these again until AFTER you've come out with me. Seriously. It's a Friday night! Come OUT with me, flirt with some guys, get them to buy us drinks, and have some FUN! I get that your dad died, but that was months ago and the only way you're going to move on with your life is by walking out the front door and moving ON with your life."

I sighed and reclined back against my desk chair. "I just don't know if I'm ready yet."

"Ready for what? To have a drink?" Celeste stood up straight and mimed holding a glass in her hand before tipping it back and sipping ... and then chugging. "Piece of cake. It's not like you haven't been drinking yourself into a stupor every other day right here. All you have to do is move your butt and have your drink in a bar. Where it's FREE. Come ON. You've been cooped up in this apartment ever since you got back and I want the old Elyse back. Quit being such a downer!"

Part of me wished Celeste would be a little more considerate about my mourning period. Sure, Daddy hadn't had much impact on my life these last couple of years since I came to Berkeley, but he was still my father. He'd been my first lover, my first everything, and now he was just ... gone. Maybe I'd been in shock when it had happened, but two days after the funeral I figured I'd move on just fine. And yet I'd been stuck in this limbo for the last two months. He'd meant more to me than I'd realized, and it's going to sound cliché as hell, but his passing made me realize just how precious life really is. I'd been coasting for the last couple of years, young and gorgeous, and I'd enjoyed the perks available to those who are young and gorgeous.

So had Celeste. She was blonde, busty, and beautiful, and she was used to really enjoying her life. It was why we'd gotten along so well when we met two years ago, and it was why she was my roommate now. I suppose I couldn't blame her for not being very considerate. After all, Celeste was just being ... Celeste.

"Seriously, E." My roommate now stomped into my room, went over to my closet, and started rifling through my clothes. She finally settled on a dark violet number with a scandalously short hemline and tossed it at me, hanger and all. "Put on the dress, I'll touch up your makeup myself, and we'll park you at the end of the bar. If all you want to do is sit there and drink and watch us pick up guys, you're welcome to do so. But MAYBE you'll feel like joining in, and then MAYBE we can start to get old Elyse back, hmm?"

Clutching the dress to my chest, I took a deep breath and sighed. I did like this particular dress, and Celeste damn well knew it. But then again, I'd already worn it like four times. "Okay fine, I'll put the dress on and go out with you and the girls. But tomorrow, you and I are going to go shopping for some new outfits."

Celeste clapped her hands and jumped gleefully. "That's my girl!"

"I gotta get some air," I yelled as loud as I could with Celeste's ear only inches away. As deafening as the music was, I think she heard me because she nodded. And then I turned and wormed my way through the crowd for the exit.

When Celeste had invited me out, I figured we would use our fake I.D.'s to get into a bar and chill out for a while, letting businessmen pick up on us and buy us drinks for a couple of hours. It promised to be low-key and relaxing, but instead, Mandi took us to this nightclub downtown and the girls had collectively convinced me to dance with them while we got picked off one-by-one by horny, aggressive young studs.

I'd gotten hit on more times than I really wanted, and nightclub guys were so much more high pressure than bar patrons. But it was harder to be down and morose amidst the energy of a club playing trance and hip-hop than in a low-key bar, and I had to admit that I'd started to have a good time.

But it was getting stuffy and I did want some air. Of course, there was no such thing as "fresh" air on a nightclub patio, as it was the only place people could go to smoke. Still, I could handle the cigarette smoke in exchange for a little cold air to clear my head, and within a minute I was starting to feel fresher.

And then I caught the scent. Somebody out here wasn't smoking a cigarette, and like a moth to a flame I felt myself drawn in a single direction. It didn't take very long to find the source of that scent, and I quickly spotted two guys sharing a joint in the far corner.

"Hey, can I get a hit?" I asked without preamble, my eyes zeroed in on the joint.

The guy holding it, a tall, dark, handsome type with a scruffy six-o'clock shadow, eyed me up and down in the dark violet dress. He smiled at my obvious cleavage and long legs, and immediately held out what was left of his roach.

I seized it and puffed, savoring the flavor. I didn't recognize the strain right away but it was familiar nonetheless, probably AK-47. I felt a mellow lightness fill me, and as I passed the bud back I smiled gratefully. "Thanks, man..." I drawled.

"What's your name?" Tall, dark, and scruffy (henceforth known as TDS) asked as he accepted it.

I smiled and casually replied with my usual club name, "Karen."

TDS grinned. "What's your real name?"

I smirked and replied, "Let me have some more and you just might find out."

My eyeballs felt like they were spinning in opposite directions as I stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling. I floated on a cloud of silk sheets, dreamily enveloped in a haze of bliss. My right hand held a fresh stick to my lips, I breathed in pure "chill" ... and then I inhaled sharply while feeling the void between my legs slowly fill with thick meat.

"Fuck yeah..." TDS groaned as he hit bottom, his short and curlies pressed up against my shaved snatch. "So fucking gooood, Ashley."

"Glad you like it," I murmured while exhaling my latest drag as I soaked up the pleasure of cock. There's really nothing better than getting laid while getting high, and it was an unfortunate reality that I couldn't fuck myself. Every now and again I thought about getting myself a boyfriend – as gorgeous as I was it would be quite easy to do – but I knew boyfriends and even fuck-buddies could be a real hassle with their clinginess and neediness and sense of entitled ownership. No mere man was gonna tell me I had to be faithful, for one thing, and I happened to like sampling different cocks.

Some might label me a slut for my behavior, but if I'd been a man nobody would question my desire for variety. Manipulating some handsome new stranger always gave me a thrill, as long as I remained in charge. Every fuck was on MY terms, and hell, TDS actually believed my real name was "Ashley".

A second cock pushed against my lips, but I batted it aside and shot an angry look at TDS's buddy. "I don't do blowjobs," I growled haughtily. "Go back to sucking on my tits or wait in line."

The buddy looked at TDS, who shot him a look to not piss me off. The buddy got down and started nursing at my tits again, although his shoulder moved in such a way that made it clear that he was jerking off next to the bed as well.

"Just don't waste your wad," I warned him. "You blow it early and I'll be very disappointed."

Like I said, I happened to like sampling different cocks. And there's really nothing better than getting laid while getting high.

-- OCTOBER 2003 --

It was after 2am when I slipped my key into the lock and went inside the apartment. To my surprise, the table lamp was on in the living room and the TV was showing re-runs of some cable reality show trash. I hadn't been trying to be quiet, so when the door shut, Celeste jerked awake on the couch.

Rubbing her eyes, she glanced at the clock on the cable box before shooting me a look. "Jeez, E. Where have you been all night?"

"Out," I replied with a shrug, heading for my room while reaching back for the zipper on my dress.

"Out where?" Celeste asked angrily. "You've GOT to stop disappearing on us. It worries the shit out of me!"

"I was fine. I can take care of myself."

"I know, I know, but still. This is what, the fifth time? Can't you at least text me your address or something so I know where to start looking for the body if you don't show up in the morning? I had to give up this totally hot lawyer who really seemed to know what he was doing when I realized you weren't around. C'mon ... You're supposed to be my wingman!"

"I'm fine," I reiterated, now in my bedroom as I stripped my clothes off. Celeste had followed me and she leaned against the doorjamb with her arms folded over her chest. I had pulled my panties down just to mid-thigh. There was still cum in my pussy, and I grabbed a tissue off the nightstand to blot it up before fully removing my panties.

"Who was he this time?" she asked.

"Does it matter?"

"Did he get you high?"

I leveled her with a look.

"Just please tell me he didn't give you anything stronger than that."

"What?"

"You KNOW what I'm talking about. You swore to me up and down you'd stay away from Meth. Just please tell me he only gave you weed."

"Weed, just weed, alright? I told you: I can handle it."

Celeste shook her head, watching me wince as I sat down. She recognized the look immediately and sighed. "He fucked your ass tonight?"

I grunted and unbuckled my shoe straps before kicking off my heels. I shrugged noncommittally. "It was nice. He managed to stay hard enough to go three rounds."

"You could have shared," she shot back. "Instead, I had to come home by myself all worried about you."

I sighed and looked over at my roommate. She really did deserve better than worrying about me. Clad now in only my bra, I got back up and walked over to her. Sliding my hands up and down her arms, I leaned in and gently pecked her lips. "I'm sorry, alright? He had a great-smelling blunt and I just lost my head. I should have come and grabbed you or something, alright?"