College life can be as exciting as you make it. But, as we got off our bus, I honestly had no idea why my friend Rob thought that we needed the kind of excitement that one can find in the Numbers. It was the shady, seedy, outright dangerous even, part of Portland. And which so much life to enjoy everywhere else in town, we were just walking around it. “Chill man”, he reassured me, “I know where we’re going. I know people. They have a party tonight. It’s gonna be lit”.
“Dude”, I retorted, “they have parties everywhere”
“Yeah but this one is crazy shit man. All kinds of stuff floating”
“Stuff? What stu…” I started asking, before my own brain forgot its fear, worked for barely a moment, and connected the dots. Drugs. Rob was hoping to score drugs.
“That stuff is fucked up man” I told him. “Weed is fine, but if you’re talking real shit, that will fuck you up, you know?”
“Oh come on dude, just for tonight. Stick with me. It will be good, I promise”
Peer pressure, the ultimate all-powerful force. How could I say no to the kind of danger that can fuck you up for good, when my clueless friend had promised “it will be good”? And so, we made our way to the house, knocked at the door, and we were let in with no questions asked. For some reason I was expecting bouncers, armed security, and yet, none of that was around. Just a bunch of folks dancing around and making out. The air had a quite distinct smell to it. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it was clear that something had been going on there. I wanted to open the window, bring some fresh air in, but it wasn’t my house, and I had no idea how the crowd would feel about letting cold air inside to chill their vibe.
Rob left my side fairly quickly, probably bouncing from person to person hoping to get what he had come here for. I was just chilling, trying to blend in, pass as one of the crowd, hoping to leave with minimal incident. And that’s when I saw her.
She felt like the belonged. And yet she was out of place. She was not a college kid. Late 30s, if I had to guess. She was wearing a tight dress with black and white stripes, her stockings looked like spider webs, and her arm-length gloves added a touch of “you can’t have me” to her. Like she was too cool for your shit. Her wavy black hair danced at the rhythm of her moves, and her whole body screamed “I know you want this”. And “want this” I did. I wanted it so bad. It was like lightning had struck me. I had to meet this woman. I had to know her story. And I had to fuck her.
I forgot my fears, my inhibitions. And I walked up to her, started dancing next to her, and waved “hello, I’m Jack”.
“Hi Jack, I’m Erin”, she said, smiling.
Maybe she sensed my embarrassment, maybe it was her standard party line, but she added. “Don’t be shy man, I don’t bite. Unless you want me to”, and she laughed, contented at herself, enjoying the effect of her words on me.
“I’ll consider your offer”, I answered, trying to hide that every bone in my body was aching to scream “yes bite me hard”, or some such perverted thought.
We chatted for a bit, walked to grab beers from the cooler. She told me about her life story, I told her about mine. She was into heroin in her youth, had gotten herself clean, found a nice house in the ‘burbs, a good loving partner, and two adorable kittens to come home to. And yet, last spring, the addiction called back: it wanted its dues. She had relapsed. Tried to get clean. Failed. And now she had left her husband at home, “I’ll be at my mom’s house for the weekend”, and come over here to party and get high. She was intense. About everything. From the grass in her backyard, to the feeding habits of her kittens, to the magic properties of her intoxicant of choice. She had an opinion about it all, and knew just the perfect words to express it, to let you feel what she felt, taste what she tasted.
I was not nearly as interesting. I studied history in college, I’d graduate next year, and try to find my way into the world. I was into cars that I couldn’t afford. I had been broken up with last month, and my heart was still working its way out of the sadness. I was not intense. I didn’t have that quality of depth to me. I envied her for it. And the more we talked, the more I wanted her. I am sure she knew it too.
“What’s on your mind? Right now. No filters.”, she asked.
Of course, when asked such a thing, one has to be honest and abide by the rules. No filters. “I think you’re hot”, I said.
She laughed. “Oh am I now? Aren’t you a bit too young for those thoughts?”
“I guess so”, I answered, feeling myself get deflated, blushing.
She touched my shoulder. “Don’t take me too seriously. I am high. And my sense of humor is all kinds of fucked up. I think you’re cute too.”, she said, smiling softly.
I was usually not that forward, but the mix of beer, drug fumes, and the situation feeling so .. unreal, outside of the world, it made me bold. “Wanna find a room and make out?” I asked her. As direct as one can possibly be. There was no chance it would work. Not a chance.
“Yeah that’s a good idea. Follow me.” as she started walking up the stairs, and into one of the rooms.
“Well, what you waiting for?” she looked at me, as she laid on the bed. I pinched myself, this was a dream right? No, pinch didn’t wake me up. I jumped on the bed, laid next to her, and started kissing her. She tasted like the beers we’d been drinking. We kissed. I tugged her hair, and she moaned at it. I almost felt myself smile. It was the trick that never failed. I tugged again, and started kissing her neck. She arched it back, and let out a sigh. “Mmm ohh”. She took my shirt off, I helped her out of her dress. Her breasts were full, heavy. Her nipples hard, the perfect size for my teeth to sink into. “We can’t fuck” she said in the midst of her moans. “We can’t”.
“Why not?” I asked her.
“I have a husband. Don’t fuck me. He doesn’t want to.”
“Do you want to?”, I retorted
“Yes. I do. She said. But I want to say no. I want to torture you. Tease you. Deny you. And yet I want you to do it anyway. I want you to fuck me as I ask you not to. But my body, it will say the truth. It will say how bad I want you.”
That was new. It had never happened to me. I was to fuck her as she asked me not to. I was to ignore her words and listen to her body. It was new. Confusing. And yet it sounded so perfect in the moment. “Ok”, I told her.
I took her stockings off, her panties. She tried to push me away. She started crying. Asking me to stop. Telling me she had a boyfriend. Saying she’d finish me with her mouth if I stopped. I ignored her. I didn’t have a condom. I didn’t care. I thrust inside of her. She hadn’t lied. Her words were telling me to stop. But her pussy was so wet. And tight. It felt perfect around me. She let out a moan, and then another. And then it’s as if she snapped back in her role, for she started begging again. “No no fuck no”, as I thrust deep and hard inside of her. I pinned her to the bed. Bit her nipples. Sucked her tits. And pounded her. The bed creaking, squeaking, her moans mixed with threats and pleads.
A new force, a demon, it possessed me. “Cum bitch” I told her as I slapped her face. Once. Twice. And the same force, it possessed her too. She laughed at me. “You dumb idiot. I am fucked up on heroin. I can’t cum. That’s what you are. A dumb fuck fucking a drug addict who can’t even cum from it. Just get off of me.”
“Then I guess one of us will cum”, I answered. Her eyes went big. Huge. She stared at me. “Don’t do it. I am not safe. Get off me”.
It was my turn to laugh. “Too late”, I said. I pushed myself ever so close on top of her. Our bodies touching as if I was trying to mesh her into me, my mouth next to her ear. I blew some air softly, and whispered to her. “Too late. I will cum in you. Make you pregnant. Let’s do it. A baby.” I said. She caved. Maybe it was her fantasy as much as it was mine. Maybe we were just both crazy. Maybe it was the fumes in that house. Suffice it to say that she locked her legs around me, and her only words were “do it then”.
And do it, I did. In a few quick thrusts, I felt it happen. I felt the cream aching to get out, I felt it leave my balls, rush to escape, and then I felt the immense pleasure of orgasm inside of her. I had cum. Deep. Hard. I was spent.
“I hope you don’t get your wish. I hope I am not pregnant”, she said after a few minutes of silence
“And why is that?” I asked her, as the reality that she might well be sunk in
“Junkies will lie to you and play you for their own gain. They’ll make you buy dope for them. And they’ll get you addicted in the process. There’s no moral in this world, kid. And I am no better than the rest of them. I’ll take a Plan B in the morning. Now get out of here.” was her answer.
I was frozen. I had never known anyone as a drug addict. The school’s propaganda had basically washed away on me. I didn’t care, one way or the other. I didn’t pass moral judgment. And her words, like everything else about her, were intense, deep, profound. And they cut deep into me. “Go, get out” she screamed.
I gathered my clothes, and left the room. Not another word between us. I found Rob, I told him we were leaving. No, I didn’t care that he hadn’t scored anything yet. “Leaving. Now. Understand?”. He followed me, pissed and worried all at once. I never told him what happened that night. I just chalked it up to “uncomfortable”. I never heard from Erin again. I hoped she had found the peace she was looking for, whatever that may mean for her.
*This story is inspired by and dedicated to the beautiful u/extremelystupid77 who approved of it and gave her green light to sharing it and giving her credit*
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/axrmz3/mf_str8_drugs_cnc_mildly_preg_the_bad_part_of_town
Great story really very very well written !