Pay the Piper

My face burned and blood whooshed in my ears as I shuffled into the house. We’d all dressed in a hurry after Erin left us, but without a towel I still dripped water onto the floor.

What the hell would I say? What could I say? Yes, I dry humped your naked teenaged daughter in the pool, but it’s not what it looked like. It was totally innocent.

Yeah, I was fucked.

I found Erin seated on a leather sofa in the den, and she turned her head when I entered, her face stern. I smiled sheepishly, but she remained stone-faced.

“Close the door,” she said, her voice cool.

I did, noting she sat alone, and I wondered where Clay was.

“Come here,” she said, patting the cushion next to her. “Take a seat.”

“Look, Erin, I had a lot to drink tonight.”

She held up her hand, cutting me off, and pointed down at the cushion. “Sit down.”

A command, not a request.

I went to where she pointed and lowered myself onto the edge of the cushion. She stared at me, but not in the eyes. More at my neck or chest or something, in the disconcerting way a soldier might look at an enemy combatant. She remained silent for a long time, and I grew increasingly anxious.

“Erin, listen.”

She held up her hand again and then slowly brought her fingers and thumb together, so I shut the fuck up.

She breathed heavily through her nostrils, and I found myself watching her substantial chest slowly rise and fall. She wore a short satin robe with nothing on underneath, her large nipples tenting the thin, silky material. She must have finished up with Clay, heard the noise outside, and threw it on to investigate. I still couldn’t understand why he wasn’t there with her. Maybe too busy loading the shotgun.

“I really want to do some coke with you,” she said.

It was the last thing in the world I expected to hear.

“Sorry, what?”

“Coke. I want to do some lines with you.”

She gestured to the coffee table and, sure enough, there on a polished silver serving tray sat four lines of cocaine, a plastic straw, and a small baggie of what looked to contain several more grams of the white powder. Clay’s buddy had apparently come through after all.

“Erin, I think we should talk about--”

“I said,” she interrupted, raising her voice, “I want to do some fucking coke with you.” She lifted her lip. “Now get down there and snort it.”

I stared at her until I was certain she’d been serious. “Okay...”

I picked up the straw and leaned over to snort one of the lines. My nostril immediately numbed and felt stuffy, and I repeatedly sniffed to make sure I’d inhaled it all. A few seconds later, I tasted the astringency of the cocaine as it dripped down the back of my throat. Then my mind woke up. I wiped my nose and held out the straw to her.

Erin smirked and snatched it from my hand. She glanced at me briefly, this time in the eye, and leaned forward to quickly inhale a line. Then she downed a second. She came upright quickly, flinging her voluminous hair back, and sniffed and pinched her nose.

“Shit. God damned, that’s good.”

She flicked the straw down onto the tray, then crossed her thick legs and reclined into the couch. When she spread her arms out over the top of the seatback, the motion lifted the hem of her robe over the tops of her thighs and pulled it open in the front, exposing her deep cleavage all the way to her navel. She watched where my eyes went and smiled.

“You’ve been a busy boy tonight,” she said, reveling in my discomfort.

“Erin, I’m so, so sorry about what happened. I got drunk and things got out of hand, and I should never have let it happen.”

“Let what happen?”

Was she fucking with me? My mind itched from the coke, and I had trouble finding solid footing. And where the hell was Clay?

“You know. In the pool,” I said.

“Why don’t you tell me. What did you do?”

Was that it? Did she want me to confess? My eyes wandered around the dark, wood paneled room that seemed to close in on me. I felt hot, my throat numb and constricted from the cocaine, and I had difficulty swallowing. Why the fuck had I agreed to go skinny dipping with those girls?

“Come on, Erin. You were standing right there.”

She bounced her foot, and I became transfixed by it, following it as it slowly oscillated up and down. Despite my effort to control them, my eyes betrayed me, travelling up her legs to the dark shadow between her thick thighs, then to her protruding belly rolls and her large breasts barely covered by the lapels of her robe. She watched as I traversed up and down her body and seemed to take pleasure in my interest.

“Tell me what you did,” she coaxed.

I moved my eyes to hers. She wanted me to say it. Why? What was the point? She stopped bouncing her foot.

“Tell me,” she repeated.

“You know. Kissing Ashley.”

Erin inhaled deeply, as if to breathe in my confession.

“Oh, come on. It was a lot more than that, wasn’t it?”

What was her game? I shifted uncomfortably in my seat and nodded cautiously.

“What else were you doing with her?”

My heart hammered in my chest and my eyes burned. I opened and closed them a couple time and wiped my face. My hand came away wet.

“She was ... humping my leg,” I said.

“It wasn’t just her doing it, though. Was it?”

I swallowed hard, acid rising in my stomach. “No.”

“What were you doing?” she pressed. “Where were your hands?”

“They were ... on her butt,” I said quietly.

Erin uncrossed her legs and spread them. Not a lot, but just enough to show me her shaved pussy.

“Yes, they were, weren’t they? You know, when I came out and saw you in there with her, my first thought was to get Clay’s gun and shoot you in the dick.”

I tasted bile rise in my throat and my heart palpitated. Was I having a heart attack? Is this what it felt like? Despite the fact my chest tightened, and even though the veins in my neck pulsed and an acute shortness of breath threatened to suffocate me, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her pussy.

Erin rested her hands on top of her thighs and spread her legs a little wider.

“But I stopped myself and watched,” she said. “I saw the way you held her, and the way she responded to your touch. And I heard her moans and saw the looks on the faces of the other girls, and I have to admit it turned me on.”

My eyes snapped to hers, wide and feral, her pupils tiny drops of black ink. She slid her hands over the tops of her thighs, kneading the flesh, coaxing her legs further apart.

“It more than turned me on, if I’m being honest. It got me wet. In fact, it’s making me wet just sitting here thinking about it.”

Her dark labia appeared swollen and separated in the dim light. She reached down to drag her fingers over her open slit. When she pulled them back, they glistened with her secretions. She rubbed her fingertips together and smiled.

“See?”

I did see. What the fuck was happening? Her smile widened, as if sensing my disorientation.

“Hand me that bag of coke,” she said, wiping her fingers on her robe.

My mind spun, but not from the drugs. Why the hell wasn’t she tearing into me right now? A normal parent would be screaming at the person who’d just taken advantage of their teenaged daughter, not doing lines with them in the parlor and talking about how turned on they were. None of it made any sense.

Unless she was setting me up for something worse.

The thought caused my anxiety to pique far above the normal levels of coke-induced paranoia. I picked up the bag with trembling fingers and passed it to her. Erin opened it on her lap and used her fingernail to spoon out a small amount.

“You ever snort coke off a woman’s tits before?” she asked.

I blinked and sniffed, certain I’d misheard until she pulled her robe open, exposing her breasts. They were marvelous. Large, full, and pendulous, they hanged triumphantly from her chest. Her dark nipples, large and long, had been crafted by God himself for suckling. She lifted one of her breasts in her hand and deposited the coke directly onto her nipple, speaking while she worked.

“I love putting coke on my nipples. It’s like rubbing them with an ice cube. Makes then numb. They can handle a lot more pain when they’re numb. Come here,” she said.

She put her hand on the back of my neck and pulled my face toward her chest. I was too dumbstruck to resist. She guided my nostril to her nipple, and I snorted the coke off it, leaving behind a small amount of residue.

I lifted my eyes to hers.

“Clean it.”

I considered the tiny flecks of narcotic that dusted her light brown areola and couldn’t help myself. I snaked out my tongue and licked the powder from her nipple, its soft, rubbery texture pliant and warm against my tongue. She sucked in a quick breath and pushed my head down. I took her nipple into my mouth to suck on it, using my tongue to tease it.

“Bite it,” she said under her breath, a hint of urgency in her voice. I took the large, meaty protuberance between my teeth and gently bit down. She hissed.

“Harder. Pull it.”

I did as she asked, biting down until I felt I might break the skin. With her nipple firmly between my teeth, I tugged on it, using it to lift her heavy breast away from her chest. Erin arched her back and levitated out of the seat.