Jenni left just after dinner wearing an old pair of cut-offs that left little to the imagination, some beat up baby blue Capri canvas loafers, and the same dingy t-shirt she’d worn since early Monday morning. Grabbing the keys to her mom’s silver Oldsmobile, she headed out. Needing to kill some time before their date, Jenni headed for the one place she could find a free drink and welcoming company, her cousin’s restaurant.
Friday night and the parking lot was full. Pulling in beside the dumpster, Jenni parked as far out of the way she could find, so no one would recognize her mom’s car. Peter had the only diner and bar in the surrounding parishes worth stepping foot in. The fare was decent and reasonably priced, and the liquor was cheap and flowed freely.
Jenni pulled aside the grease-stained rear screen door, dodging trash cans while weaving her way around stainless steel tables and cooks whistling cat-calls as she saddled up close between them.
“Hey Jenni, lookin good,” one said.
“Lookin for a date?” Asked the other.
“What you got in mind?” Jenni asked, her hand brushing against his sweaty chest.
“Jenni girl, get on out of here,” Ester ordered. She ran the kitchen and for sure didn’t want no white girl comin up in here, messin with these boys minds.
“Just passin through,” Jenni hollered.
“Well, pass on out of here and leave them boys, alone.”
“Sorry boys gotta go, Ester’s orders,” she whispered blowing them both a kiss.
“Maybe some other time.”
She pushed aside the door of the service bathroom and ducked in. It was time for her to freshen up a bit. Tempting fate and wanting to push a boundary she made sure she left the door unlatched. Peeling off her shirt, shorts, and shoes, she stood leering at herself in the mirror. Her sensuality began to consume her thoughts. She wanted to walk out the door in her cotton panties but knew she couldn’t. She leaned forward into the mirror, pursing her lips, and painting them deep red. Cupping one, then the other she stood admiring her plump breasts. Finally, using fingers for a comb, she pushed up and out, teasing her long blond hair. It was time to take fate one step further. Her heart raced contemplating the move. Her hand moved to the string dangling from the exposed bulb. Glaring at her reflection on last time, she gave it a jerk. The mop closet went black. Her heart pumping, her head pounding, she stood silent, listening for the noise of the kitchen on the side of the door. Through the darkness her hand found the handle, pulling it slightly ajar. The closet exploded with the noise and the heat of the kitchen. She instinctively backed away, standing, hoping, the door would swing wide and she’d get caught. She stood for what seemed an eternity before she heard Cheryl jabbering. Cheryl pushed it open, just as Jenni slammed it shut.
“Sorry, didn’t know someone was in there,” Cheryl said.
Jenni quickly threw on her clothes, apologizing as she darted out, head down, eyes diverted, passing from the kitchen to a hall, to a large darkened dining room.
Jenni stood, head burning, heart racing, cursing. How dumb she was. She knew Cheryl would talk. The rumors would fly. She needed a cigarette. A drink. She needed to calm down. She slouched over to one of the many leather-topped stools loosely aligned down the backside of the restaurant’s large bar. Pulling a pack of Marlboro Lights from her back pocket, she pushed one between her lips. The nicotine caused her tension to subside. Passing round the end, Jenni flipped on a light. Grabbing a short tumbler and the bottle of Jack, filled it to the top, slammed it back, and poured another setting the bottle down across from where she was to sit. This one she carried, grabbing a round black plastic ashtray on the way out. She plopped down.
Phil, who she’d known forever, was working the bar. She could hear him chatting up the regulars. He noticed the light go on, and the clanking of glass on glass. She could always rely on him every time she came in. Vodka and Coke in a tall glass, to make it look legal. Phil came round the end of the bar, stood watching her for a moment before coming to light her cigarette. They began their normal chit-chat. Had anyone she knew come around lately. He’d always let her know who, and when. He’d ask about her parents. She’d roll her eyes up. It was a subject she didn’t care to discuss. By then the conversation would turn to lighter things or would die off into a painful silence.
The bar was one big oval with the back half hidden by a collapsible wall. Jenni never cared to have others in her business, so she always migrated to the backside. Phil turned on a few lights, so she wasn’t sitting in the dark, started to make a new drink when she interrupted him.
“Bourbon Phil,” Jenni said. “Short. Just bourbon.”
She sat there alone smoking and drinking, every couple of minutes Phil would come back around to check on her and top her off. She asked if anyone she knew had come in.
“Gino and Tim,” Phil said. “Do you want me to send them around?”
“Of course,” Jenni replied.
The three of them together once again, sitting side by side, drinking and getting high. Jenni and Gino knew each since she was in diapers. His family sold mobile homes to half the state, and her dad was the family attorney. Jenni and Gino were out partying one night about two years before and he missed a curve and wound up in a ditch. Jenni was tossed through the front windshield winding up a twisted ragdoll in the grass. She came away with a gash on her top left shoulder and back problems. Gino slammed chest first against the steering column and was messed up for the rest of his life. He spent over a year in traction and never walked without help again. Tim, hired as his live-in nurse, became his confidant and driver. The only thing good to come of it all was the constant supply of pain pills and pharmaceutical cocaine Gino got for his pain. He handed the pills out like they were candy and kept the cocaine flowing. Gino kept them in two large brown pharmacy vials, one full of pain pills and the other full of coke. He used a cut-off short fat straw he got from a Seven Eleven to snort the coke with. He’d pack the straw, slam it up one nostril, pack it again, and slam it up the other.
Gino offered the vial to Phil as a courtesy. He declined as he always did, referring it to Jenni instead. She was quick to fill both sides of her face and was high in seconds. Her face numb, she needed something to soothe it. Phil poured shots, they all slammed them back. Her teeth gritted, her face numb, she spoke in monosyllables about nothing. She was high and ready for more. Their conversation migrated through a litany of inconsequential subjects all influenced by bourbon and highlighted by intermittent blasts of cocaine. Just past nine she was primed and ready to do anything. Her thoughts escaped her to the first of many obscure fantasies.
—-Jenni pushed open the door and stepped back in the kitchen. The night was pretty much over, Ester had gone home for the night leaving only the boys to finish clean up before heading out. They looked up as she stumbled in. She was high and ready to play. She stopped, glaring at them for a moment before turning to push aside the bathroom closet door. Jenni banked in, stepping sideways in the dark, knocking over a mop, before coming to rest atop the toilet bowl.
“Shit,” she said.
The boys came running over.
“You okay Miss Jenni.”
“Damn shit,” Jenni belched, “I gotta pee.”
They stared wide-eyed as she undid her shorts, pushing them and her cotton panties over her knees to her ankles. Jenni looked up at the silhouette of their faces, as she emptied her bladder.
“Ain’t you boys never seen a girl pee?” Jenni asked.
They chuckled, backing out, leaving her to finish cleaning.
“Where you goin?”
They stopped, turning back to her. She peeled off a piece of toilet paper, wiped between her legs, and grabbed the handle. Whoosh. Jenni stood, her pants still around her ankles. Trying to walk, she stumbled forward, grabbing hold of the sink. They both reached out, their hands grasping forearms, but instead landed round her waist. Jenni turned, looking up to them, then, slowly bending at the waist, reaching down to grab her clothes, stopping, thinking for a minute, before bending back up.
She giggled, stepped sideways, leaving her clothes in a ball, laying on the floor. Jenni pushed her body in between them, reaching out to close the door, then pulling their hands to her.
The kitchen door opened and closed. The two boys froze. Dishes clanked. The door once again swished open and close. The boys hustled out. Jenni grabbed her shorts off the floor, turned and walked out—
“Earth to Jenni! You still with us?” Gino asked.
“Sorry guys. On that note, it seems like a good time for me to exit. What time is it anyway?”
“Just after nine,” Phil said.
“You have someplace you have to go?” Gino asked.
“Home,” she said. “Parents.”
“Not before one last shot,” Phil ordered.
“And a snort,” suggested Gino holding up the pill container.
“I’ll never get to sleep if I do any more of that stuff,” Jenni moaned.
“Yes you will,” Gino said, shaking the vial of pills.
“What you got there?” Jenni asked.
“Percodan,” Gino replied smiling. “How many you want?”
“I’ll take four.”
“Take as many as you care to.”
“In that case,” Jenni said, pouring a small pile in her hand, placing two on the bar, and slipping the rest in her right front pocket.
“First,” Gino said handing her the cocaine. “Save those for after.”
Minutes later she was bouncing through the kitchen, a cold Heineken and two Percodans in one hand, and a joint in the other. She stumbled out the screen door and into another hot sultry southern night.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/70ei3a/the_story_of_j_chapter_3