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Rated: XGC · User Poll · Erotica · #1583176
Hard boiled. CharmJunkie noir. Erotica
Poll Question:
7:15 PM, Saturday

From the parking lot of a pharmacy, I call her cell. Voice mail - she must be working. I wait fifteen minutes. I redial. She answers.

"Penny?"

"T.F., Is that you?"

"I love your voice, baby ... are you busy?"

"Never too busy, for you, sweetie."

"Corner of Lost and Vain, in 5 Minutes?"

"On my way."

"Nod. I'll pick you up ..."


Blue wig, Goth lipstick - smothering pouty lips - beneath a cupid's bow of porcelain skin; dark fishnet stockings, worn near through at the knees, pink, micro mini, revealing the curving, twin eclipse of her firm behind, over an ebony corset. Topped with a skull studded, black leather jacket, and accessorized by pink tote, matching F**k-Me Pumps and a silver cross around her neck. Early on, she discovered earrings to be a work hazard; tres euro-trash, that's my baby, Penny, copper for her thoughts, but green for her time.


Gliding onto the seat, with the grace of a swan on a quiet lake, she smiles hello, "Tricks or Treats, tonight?"

I can't resist her smile, "How much for simple peace of mind?"

"Sorry, fresh out. Straight up - ten for twenty-five, half and half, forty; but with your frequent flier miles, I can roll the cigar for just a Twenty."

"Will the shotgun shack be ok?"

"Whatever works for you, sweetie - I'm only in it for the love."

It's a quick drive, but her hand finds my thigh, "I keep forgetting you're a lefty", she giggles. By the time we arrive, I have to limp ahead to hold the door for her. Looking around, she half laughs, "I love what you've done with the place. Sears, Ashes to ashes collection?"

"Nod, but they threw in the Fire Sale signs for free."

She wanders through the charred remains, rubble - within four standing walls; if she'd not sensed the smoke last time, we never have gotten out in time; I was already on fire. Spreading my coat on the mattress, she sits, adjusts for comfort and slides down my jeans and briefs. "Someone's missed me."

Moaning my reply, "Tease ... shall we continue ... please?"

Applying the condom, with her mouth, she's no one trick Penny. "Mmmmm" ... she cradles me in one hand, holding me firm with the other, undulating slowly, this is heaven. She stops, to whisper, "Nice curve, cowboy.", then takes me whole.
Jonah, meets the whale, "Mmmmmm", I moan, thinking "better than dope."
Breathless, I ask "Can I run my fingers through your hair?"

"Mmmm Hmmmm ..."

My mind begins to unreel, spooling line to an invisible, fast approaching, horizon. Sensing the peak, her mouth tightens; I erupt, hands caressing the small of her neck ... "Yessssss, Baby, Yessssss!"

"I wish I could do to you, what you do for me", I sigh.

"If you could, I'd have to work overtime", I love her sense of humor.

Typically male, I pull up, tuck in, reach into the pocket of my jeans, peel two twenties from a roll and slip her both.

"Are you already primed for another??"

"No, sweetheart, I know you work for a habit ... the second bag is on me tonight."

"You know you're my favorite trick ... right, T.F.?"

"And you're my favorite, no strings, no baggage, treat too - baby."

Driving back, through the rain, she prattles on about kicking the habit, finding a real gig and returning to school. I turn down her favorite song, "Roxanne", to better hear.

"I was taking Pre-law in college and working at a strip club. One night I was busted for soliciting and found out I was allergic to LAW!"

"You were ALLERGIC to the LAW?", I question, puzzled.

"Oh Yes! One bust and I broke out in handcuffs ...", again, I love her sense of humor.

Back at the pharmacy lot, I slip her an extra twenty, "Your Jones is covered until tomorrow. This is to get something to eat, you look thin."

"Gawd, T.F., would you marry me if I gave up the trade?

"You leave me weak, but could you take me as I am - flawed?"

Opening her door - "Sure, sweetheart. I'll see you in a few days. Call if you need anything?"

"Thank YOU, T.F. - ever the gentleman, I see."

She turns and struts back into the night ... I watch her sashay, until she completely disappears.


Sunday, 9:00 AM

Cell Rings. Cell Rings. Cell Rings. Finally I answer, "Mr. F? Detective Nadir, Vice Squad, Do you have a moment?"

"For the local constabulary, always", I snort. "What have I done now, Officer? My parole was up in May."

"Nothing, but does the name Stephie Lane, ring any bells? We found your number in her cell."

"WHO?"

"Stephie - Penny - Lane. Did you know her intimately?"

"Perhaps", I cringe, "I saw her just last night. We were briefly engaged."

"You were going to marry a hooker, sir?"

"Inside Joke, Officer Nadir, inside joke; besides, it would have been cheaper."

"We found her in a parking lot, behind a dumpster; $20 in her purse, needle still in her arm. M.E. tested the syringe residue, 90 proof heroin - a very hot shot. Got any Clues?"

"We moved in similar circles, Officer, but I no longer use. I'll take care of the arrangements, this one's on me."

"Mr. F, I'd like to meet and verify your statements ..."

Click. F*CK! I should have waited for the score, sampled and held a bag in stash ... maybe TAKEN her to eat. We live with regrets, of even the rare good faith decisions, we make.


Sunday, 11:30 PM

Johnny and I went so far back; we couldn't remember when we'd met. So far back, we'd exchanged house keys years ago, I used mine quietly. We knew one another better than we did ourselves and I found him, much as I expected, nodded on the couch.

Insulin syringes, milk sugar and an ounce of pure Gumby-land on the coffee table. He never said a word, through the seventh shot.

"Seven always was your lucky number", I thought aloud, as I sat with my arm around him. "Johnny, Johnny; you KNEW she was kicking, but you boosted her dose to keep her paying. Bro - I'm sorry, but that what goes around comes back around again." I stayed just long enough to be sure he was not breathing.

Monday, 10:00 AM

Cell rings. I answer.

"Mr. F, Officer Nadir here; we were tracing numbers from Johnny C's phone and found yours. M.E. says he banged over a gram, virtually impossible in a single shot, with this grade. Seen him lately?"

"Find any prints?" I offer with no hint of visible remorse.

"Only his on the syringes, but yours popped on the back door."

"Look in his wallet, you'll find a key to my home. We'd been tight for years."

Click.

Street Smart 101:

Always pick up your brass.

Always wear good gloves.

Always wipe for prints - when necessary.

And always ... Always, leave as quietly as you came.

d~

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