Chapter 2: Blue Pills and Desperate Needs

Pete grabbed his mirror, bong, and the rest of his gear and made the short trip down the hallway past his sister’s room, the house’s single bathroom, and his dad’s room all the way to his own room. The old man wouldn’t be home until tomorrow, leaving him a lot of time to have a lot of fun with his sister’s friend. He may have been twenty-one, but Pete knew the last thing his dad wanted to hear was his son fucking a girl, and he knew for certain his dad didn’t want his little princess hearing her older fucking a girl, let alone one of her friends, either. And she never would ... whenever their father was home.

Pete set his gear down on his gaming desk, which was also his PC desk and personal drug desk, a slender thing of black glass and stainless steel. He hopped over to his dresser, pulled out a pair of boxer briefs, then darted out of his room, crossed the hall, and entered the bathroom. He needed a shower. Even though he showered last night, there was no reason not to go the extra mile for the girl he planned on charming out of her panties.

He stripped down and gave his body a quick look. He was tall, athletic, and he had a head of full, light brown hair with a little wave to it. That was his father’s hair. His sister inherited their mother’s bright blonde, silky tresses. He had groomed his pubes the night before, and even though he had smoked, there were no red lines crossing the whites around his blue eyes. They were darker than his sister’s, but they still stood out enough that the girls in his life enjoyed looking into them. He showered, soaped up, dried himself off, put on his black boxer briefs, and headed back into his room. He still needed to prepare.

Back in his room, Pete looked at his personal supply of happy stuff. He had his weed stored in mason jars with spring and snap lock lids. He had his coke, stored in a miniature mason jar with a screw on lid, and several unlabeled prescription bottles, one half full of 1 mg pills of Xanax and a little plastic bag with half a dozen Xanny bars and the other bottle was half full of that magic blue pill, which he didn’t need, but it was the only drug his father ever asked him about. The man was in his fifties; he had had his children later in life, and sometimes he needed a little help. Pete asked no questions, made no jokes, and gave the pills to his father free of charge whenever he needed them. He also had some acid, some ecstasy, some Vicodin, and various opioids in his closet safe, but he rarely took those out. Pete put his coke and Xanax away, but he took out one blue pill because they were fun.

... and he planned on doing more coke.

His sister knocked on his door at the same moment she shouted, “Hey, you in there?”

“Where else would I be?”

Hailey pushed his door open, her eyes landing on his nearly naked body. “You’re in luck,” she said. “Taylor said she’d come over and.” His sister smiled widely, sweetly, her eyes sparkling, “I mentioned you wanted to party and you wanted me to invite a friend. She then asked if I cared if she came over to watch Netflix and chill with you.”

Pete laughed.

“In your room, with your party favors, but without me in the room with you two.”

“I figured,” Pete said. “Which one is Taylor? Ooh, is she as hot as Livvy Dunne?”

“Shut up,” Haily laughed, “you perv.”

“Just kidding.”

Hailey stuck out her right hand. “Money, please.”

Pete laughed.

He had money in his safe, lots of money, but Pete went to his nightstand and pulled open the top drawer. A roll of hundreds sat next to his Glock 17, and Pete pulled money out of the drawer and undid the rubber band holding it together. He peeled off five bills and handed them to his sister.

“You owe me six,” Hailey said. “Five for phoning a friend and one for flashing you, perv.”

Pete smiled and looked to the side, his expression sarcastic as if he were looking into a camera, breaking the fourth wall. He peeled off another bill and put it in his sister’s hand, this time grabbing onto her hand and pulling her to him in a dancer’s spin.

“That’s what I love about you,” Pete said, hugging her, then pushing her away. “You don’t take life too seriously.”

“You’re a perv, not a creep,” Hailey said, laughing as she headed for the door.

“Hey, Hailey,” Pete said, waiting for her to turn around. “When you call me a perv, you do it with affection, you know that?”

“Told ya,” Hailey said. “Coke makes you flirty.”

Pete turned around, laughing, and went to his desk as his sister closed his door. He grabbed the pill, then walked to the right side of his bed, facing the headboard, and opened the minifridge. Inside sat several strong craft beers, a pint of vodka in a glass bottle, and several water bottles. He grabbed an unsealed bottle of water, popped the pill in his mouth, and washed it down. Then he went to do a bit more coke.

Pete had changed into a pair of dark blue basketball shorts, white ankle socks, and a fitted, black workout shirt. He walked into the living room, his nostrils alive with powder, feeling fresh as his heartbeat sprinted beneath his chest. He took a deep breath, filling his chest as his eyes widened, then his eyes found his sister where she sat on the couch, leaning against the right side armrest, watching TV.

“What,” Pete asked, “you don’t like watching volleyball?”

“Volleyball, is that what they’re calling it?” Hailey laughed. “Should be called ‘The Pussy and Ass Show’ or something.”

“Whoa, the mouth on you.”

“Think my GenFans subscribers will like my mouth?”

As Pete walked around the couch, he reached out with his left hand and brushed his forefinger against his sister’s right cheek, slipping down to the corner of her mouth. “I think any man would love this mouth of yours.”

“Hey,” his sister said, cheeks turning a bit pink. “There you go again, perv, getting flirty with me.”

“Harmless fun,” Pete said, dropping down on the other side of the couch. “Do you think I can get Taylor to call me ‘perv’ while I’m banging her?”

“Gross!” Hailey said, laughing. “You’re worse than the creepiest gooner sometimes. Stick to being pervy, it’s cute; don’t be creepy. Besides, ‘perv’ is my nickname for you.”

“Maybe my nickname for you should be ‘Pimp.’”

“For five hundred bucks a friend, I’ll be the best damn pimp in the world for you.”

“Today’s a special case, little sister,” Pete said. “I’m not paying five hundred bucks for the chance to bang one of your friends again.”

“Why not?” Hailey asked, laughing. “Why’s today a special case?”

“I’m horny.”

“Shut up,” Hailey said, laughing. “I thought you banged your customers.”

“I used to,” Pete said, smiling. “I’ll tell you, I got a kick out of trading sex for drugs, but it was more like collateral. They still had to pay me, but when they didn’t have the cash, they’d give up the ass until they could pay later.”

“Sounds like fun,” his sister said, tilting her head, sounding sarcastic. “Well, go trade some drugs for sex.”

“I don’t do that anymore.” Pete took several deep breaths. “I use on Sundays, but these girls use whenever they can, and they’re wealthy wives and daughters and would-be models. I can’t be involved in that, even if my clients are high-class, and Uncle Bill gave me some advice recently: ‘Don’t fuck your customers.’” As he spoke his last sentence, Pete lifted his hands into the air, thumb tips touching, fingers spread, and then he spread his hands wide. “He meant that literally and figuratively. I haven’t had sex in a month.”

“You got into trouble for fucking your customers, didn’t you?”

Pete laughed, saying, “Yeah.” He laughed harder. “And it’s an easy way to get caught if you piss off the wrong girl.”

Hailey laughed for a little bit, then she quieted down and asked softly, “Doesn’t getting caught scare you?”

“Nah,” Pete said, waving a hand. “Uncle Bill has a good lawyer, and I can fight, so I’m not worried about being arrested.”

“Ooh, Mr. Tough Guy, so sexy,” Hailey said. “Don’t the girls love that?”

“They sure do, Pimp.”

Hailey’s phone rang. She looked down at her phone, where it lay on the armrest, and said, “It’s Taylor.”

“Tell Taylor to get her ass down here, swiftly,” Pete said, smiling at his own joke and enjoying how the coke in his veins seemed to make everything brighter.

“Funny,” Hailey said, answering by sliding her forefinger across the screen before holding it near the right side of her face. “What’s up?”

Pete closed his eyes and leaned back, enjoying the energy pulsing through his veins and the semi-hardness in his shorts. He half listened to half a conversation, but the words “Oh, you can’t,” made him open his eyes.

“I understand,” Hailey said. “It’s okay, there’s always next weekend. Go, take care of your grandpa. Call me and let me know how everything goes.”

“She’s not coming?” Pete asked after his sister set her phone down and looked at him.

“No,” Hailey said, sighing. “Family emergency. Sorry.”

“Hailey.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re a terrible pimp.”

Pete leaned back against the armrest. He sighed, then said, “Well, you’re going to have to give me back my five hundred.”

“What, noooo,” Hailey said.

“I’m not giving you money for nothing. You can’t call anyone else?”

“No, she was my Obi-Wan.”

“And you were mine,” Pete whispered, opening his eyes and looking down his body, where his semihard cock curved against his sack. Oh no.

“She said she’d come over next weekend,” Hailey said. “I’ll keep the money as an advanced payment.”

“Next weekend doesn’t help me.” Pete sat up. “Hailey, look, I took,”—he grunt-growled—”a Viagra.”

Hailey faced him on the couch, one foot on the ground, the other tucked under her thigh. She leaned forward, her blue eyes staring into his. “You took a Viagra?”

“Yeah.”

Loud, cheerful laughter burst from her lips.

“It’s not funny! I’m going to have a four-hour hard-on.”

His little sister fell backwards, hands going to her mouth, covering her mouth, her laughter spilling through her fingers as her legs came up.

Pete stared at her, her raised legs hiding her face from his angle. She dropped her legs, and the loose leg holes of her boy shorts fluttered open. Pete caught sight of white skin tanned golden by the sun. The shorts’ crotch was narrow, and tilting his head to his left, his eyes caught sight of her soft outer labia and what looked like a very small, possibly a G-string, pair of black panties with a sharp and narrow front. They looked like tight nylon or spandex or something that hugged his little sister’s cunny firmly.

Fuck, he thought, pulling his eyes up her body. Lucky for him, his sister’s legs may have come down and spread open, but her eyes faced upward with her hands still covering her mouth.

“Give me back my money.”

“Oh, c’mon, you’re going to give it to me anyway.”

“We’ll talk about it a week from now.”

“But I want to get started now!” Hailey sat up, her laughter fading but her smile remaining. “Give me the money today and I’ll be your slave.”

“What are we, kids?” Pete asked, shaking his head.

“I could show you my tits again,” Hailey said, laughing. “Five times?”

“I’m not paying another hundred to see your tits again.” Pete looked down. “That’s mostly for jokes anyway. Besides, I can go to a topless bar and see tits for a ten-dollar cover charge and two drink minimum.”

“What do you mean by ‘mostly for jokes,’ you perv?” Hailey asked, a playful accusation in her voice.

“Fuck you,” Pete said, sighing. “I need pussy, little sister.”

“And I need money.”

“Good luck on that.” Pete groaned. “I need some pay-for-play action, here.”

“Do you do that a lot, ‘pay-for-play?’”

Pete shrugged.

“Fuck Pete, it’s too bad we’re related. That would solve both of our problems.”

Pete looked at his sister, saying nothing.

“I’m joking, god,” Hailey said. “Don’t be so serious. Calm down, take one of your mellow pills, and we’ll talk about this later.”

“Sure, we will.”

“We will, ‘cause I know you’re going to give me the money and I’m going to pay you back and that’s that. I’m going to get something to drink.”

His sister stood and walked past him. He turned to follow her, his eyes lingering on her narrow hips, the low-rise shorts, the way the thin cotton clung to the muscular curve of her butt cheeks, falling into her crack.

It is too bad we’re related. He looked to his left, into the dining room, but couldn’t see into the kitchen. He could hear his sister in there. Ten bucks a minute to stare at your tits and jerk off. Would she take it? What am I thinking? I need to go to my room and goon for the rest of the day.

But what if they weren’t related?

Beneath his shorts, his cock swelled, growing thicker, harder, warmer. Sweat pushed its way through his pores, beading his forehead and the back of his neck. His heart beat faster, and Pete didn’t think it was because of the cocaine in his system. Thoughts exploded in his head, then his mind narrowed as he pushed those thoughts away until his mind was empty, but even empty ideas came to him. Ideas without sound, only understanding.

What would his sister do for money if they weren’t related to each other? If they were? If it wasn’t pervy when he was high, then it wasn’t incest either, was it?

“It would be for the money,” he said, “not a need for some sick, twisted, immoral pleasure.”

God, his dick was hard.

Pete stood and went to his room. He couldn’t go into the kitchen with his pants tented like an engorged divining rod pointing right at his sweet little sister, could he? No, that would be too pervy.

In his room, he pulled his cock out of his pants, pulled it upward beneath his tight shirt, then adjusted his waistband around his shaft and tied the strings of his basketball shorts together, but not too tight, just enough to keep his dick from flopping back down. Then, as he was turning to leave, he turned back into his room, went to his bedside drawer, and grabbed the roll of money he kept there.

“More convincing than words,” he said, giving it a light toss before putting it in his pocket.

As he attempted to leave his room again, he turned around, walked to his desk, and pulled off two small bumps of coke that he snorted with his metallic straw. His eyes widened as a burst of energy ran through his face, chest, and shoulders, and that numbing sensation swept through his nose, lips, and gums, though not as strongly as it had during his first two lines of the day.