Chapter 13: Too Much Junkie Business

Waking from a potentially wet dream, a recently familiar cause became apparent, except the woman blowing him had brunette hair. "Marianne!"

"Hi Joe," smiled Marianne fisting his erection. "Marta gave me permission. Do you mind?"

Joe laughed. "Only if you deny me tasting your sweet pussy."

She straddled him and resumed her felatio. He remembered it being less well done. He sucked hard on her clit when he came. Once the distraction ended, he worked her towards her climax while she gently and gradually more fervently restored his soldier's stature.

Crawling into position, she guided it inside her readied cunt and rode it to quiet ecstasy, eyes going wide staring relentlessly into her lover's eyes. He turned her over and resumed thrusting. They clutched together and kissed for the first time that night. Gently at first as he thrust gently, when his pace quickened, kisses became more intense. Eventually lips hovered near lips as breaths heaved and blew into the other's mouth. Joe pressed deep and closed his eyes and felt the load of cum break through. He felt the rippling interior of Marianne's pussy around his throbs as she joined him in perfect, ecstatic, breathtaking simultaneity.

"Fuck Joe, that was incredible," breathed Marianne.

Joe couldn't even reply. Suddenly he realized she'd ridden him bareback.

"Uhm Marianne, are you safe?"

"I insisted even Nate wear a condom."

"Are you on the pill?"

"Of course Joe," she lied.

After Marta joined him the evening before for a relentless battle of lust ending in multiple victories for both sides and Marianne's early morning visit, Joe realized he'd never cum so much nor enjoyed sex more in ten hours time in his life. He wondered if he could function. Sleep threatened and seemed necessary. However, he fought it and won.

"Thanks sweetness for waking me so beautifully."

"Sweetness hunh?"

"Your soul, your smile, your kiss, even your pussy," explained Joe kissing her forehead and rising reluctantly from bed.

"I like it."

"Would you like breakfast?"

"I'd rather sleep. It's been a very long day. You popped the last of my energy."

Awakened by her personal phone ringing, after little over four hours sleep Marianne felt surprisingly well rested. "Hi Mary," she said.

"Grab a couple sandwiches on the way to the hotel room. You up for more clients?"

Marianne closed her eyes and registered the pulses of inflammation at both lower orifices. "Maybe not."

"You'll get oral duty. You know mother's little helpers can help."

"Okay. I don't want to depend on them."

"Hurry over. I have a surprise."

Chewing Blimpies and sipping diet Coke's, the two escorts studied the ad combining them as a twofer only. "Brains and beauty, a unique GFE experience with two remarkable women bringing you relief, release and relaxation, an hour of incomparable bliss you'll remember for a lifetime. Let Angelique (36C-24-36 5'10" Raven Haired Vixen) and Donna (35B-27-35 5'7" Brunette Girl Next Door) make you gentlemen out there feel like Sultans." Four tasteful nude studies, two each, shared the ad with the copy. The phone rang soon after posting.

By the time they needed to head to work, despite the six hundred an hour price tag (because of it claimed Mary), they'd given four men all that was promised in the ad. One john proved aggressive, and he soon succumbed to Marianne's charm and only pounded hard doggy style into Mary's vagina at the end of the session.

That evening, after Joe finished work, Marta drove him to a fancy, romantic restaurant to celebrate a promise: "no more call-girl work." "Marianne replaced me, and improved on me according to Mary," explained Marta enthusiastically. Neither counted the coercion of the boss which hopefully if the plans worked would only happen once more. The romantic night continued in bed. The night before had been unrelenting fucking until both passed out from exhaustion. This night they made love until Marta left for work, continuing when she came home to wake up Joe. He'd learned to sleep early.

Roger spent the day, after getting shared massages with his friend/lover and only a blowjob, working on developing the warehouse space and formulating an ad for the opening of "Ravenous," the new rave club. Given carte blanche and union workers through Lefty's and therefore Georgy's connections, noting down those men and the stores providing equipment corruptly for possible use in a blanket RICO case against Georgy, Roger felt exhilarated, doing what he did best and loved to do, only bigger. Awareness of the danger only increased the excitement.

Two things bothered him. First, he wished the sting wouldn't happen and the club he built could thrive, and that made him feel guilty. Second he needed to confront his source for drugs accompanied by Lefty and push the pusher to divulge his source. To make it worthwhile, Lefty insisted on abundance. Unfortunately, Roger had been fronted his last batch of drugs and skipped.

Once best friends in high school, the duo represented an unlikely alliance between a skinny smart-ass and a jock. Roger helped Tad get chicks. Beefed up on steroids, Tad had been a defensive tackle until his knee went bum. He got fat and frustrated. His involvement in steroids continued as supplier to certain ex-teammates and the connection broadened to various other more illegal substances. Unlike the steroids which he stopped taking as well, Tad never indulged in his product. By college he had become a health nut, and except for the pussy Roger provided him from time to time, his uptight, mean disposition found no release. The guy sold drugs to kids, but felt self-righteous about his self-discipline and cynical about his customers. Ripping Tad off, after years of eroding friendship making every visit his least favorite moment, seemed like sweet revenge, a big fuck you to the asshole in Roger's view. Apparently revenge might end up bouncing back at Roger with a full force kick in the balls. He tried not dwelling on it until it happened. When he couldn't avoid thinking about it, he tied it in with his transgression with Carol's best friend and realized lately he agreed with his brother. Roger was a fuck up.

Friday morning after slaking their needs with an intense 69 and pounding doggy style fucking, Marta sighed. "I asked Mary to come over. She seemed numb. I thought we could wake her up. I'm worried."

"What about?" asked Joe, stroking Marta unkempt long blond hair as she lay beside him, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Her eyes. I've seen it before. I've seen it with Marianne, too. Junky eyes. I glanced at her arms for punctures. I know she used to mainline shit. They looked untouched by needles."

"That's good. Maybe they've just been working too hard. You said every afternoon they work."

"I hope so."

"But you don't think so."

"No."

"Talk to her. I'll talk to Roger."

"If she lets me."

"You miss her, don't you?"

"Not as much as I thought. We'd cuddle after a night of dancing, watch morning television and talk. It relaxed us. Being here with you ... Maybe she was right. Maybe I've abandoned her."

"You invited her over. Keep inviting her."

"Okay." She smiled up at him and kissed him and rubbed her juicy pussy along his hip. His hands slid over her smooth warm skin, finding new erogenous zones and eventually more familiar ones. Her rubbing intensified. Her fingers stroked his scrotum and moved up to the base of his penis thickening in her hand. Short kisses became longer. Tongues met and played.

Hardening enough, she straddled his thighs and held his penis, guiding it into her welcoming hole and sending it into its depths. Kisses only stopped when she climaxed.

He turned her over and thrust deep and hard and fast until his throbbing balls announced release. Clutching her to him, he felt her fingers' rapid rub of her clit bringing moments after his second cum her third release of the morning.

Mary crept into her room where Roger slept and carefully searched his duffel bag for pot. Extracting the large baggie and the one hitter, she brought them into Marta's old room where Marianne lay wide eyed from the physical and mental tension of a long day.

The smoke eased them both, combining with the last of the OxyContin they'd taken a couple hours earlier to bring on the nods. Marianne passed out first. Mary struggled to set the alarm for 11:00 am. She needed to visit Dr Don, the OxyContin man.

It had been over a year since she visited. She hadn't allowed the temptation of daily use of the opiate until Marta left her.

"Fucking cunt," she muttered.

Glancing at Marianne she sighed. She liked the girl. They chatted between dates. But the mornings ... The mornings had been their time, hers and Marta's. It had been their loving bond. Marianne ... wasn't Marta. Mary lay on her side looking at her partner. "I wish you were," she muttered and nodded into oblivion. Neither woman bothered to remove their shirts, bras and jeans.

The alarm woke them both. "Go back to sleep honey. I'll be back soon." Showering quickly, Mary confronted Roger as she stepped from the tub removing his clothes.

"I wanted to..." began Roger.

"I know you do," smiled Mary unconvincingly. "I don't. See you."

She called the clinic and made the nurse page Dr Don while she walked to the bus stop. "It's urgent," explained Mary as unemotional as possible. "He'll understand." The noxious easy listening of the on hold music nearly made her shout after two minutes. At last he answered. "It's Mary Constantine. I need a refill. I'm heading over. Take a lunch."

He told her to meet him a half hour later at a corner a couple blocks from the clinic. "I'll be driving a dark blue BMW," he said.

"Of course you will," said Mary to the silent phone.

At the hotel room, Mary visited the toilet freshening up while Dr Don removed his pants and underpants and sat on the bed awaiting her. She pressed play on the boom box and danced sensuously for him, letting him touch her body as she slowly exposed it. He lingered on her breasts, sucking them. Only a moment was spent kissing her pudendum. He couldn't reek of pussy juice.

She oiled his cock and masturbated him. In his fifties and flabby, the man had little appeal and even less erectile function. Her dance, her hands and finally her lips succeeded where few could to bring him to full stature. She sucked down his weak spurts while he groaned loudly. "Good boy," she said, patting his limp dick seconds after it released the pungent flow.