Melancholy Jeannie

Simone took it as a sign and lowered her mouth to Jeannie's clitoris. Simone latched onto Jeannie's clitoris like a remora fish. (Some indigenous people use remora fish to catch turtles. They attach a string to the tail of the fish. Once the fish latches onto the turtle, they pull the fish back into the boat.) Simone's tongue flicked against Jeannie's bean. And Simone would hold onto Jeannie's clitoris no matter how hard Jeannie ground her pelvis around. And Jeannie went wild. The two fingers were thrusting into her fast. The orgasm was driving her. Eyes wide open, full body twisting, she was ramming her groin into Simone's face hard. Simone knew she had to hold on. This was when it mattered.

"Oh, I'm so spent," mumbled Jeannie. Her body slackened back exhausted.

Simone tugged Jeannie back under the sheets. The panties were disappeared into a crevice of the couch or the general mess on the floor. Simone disappeared. Jeannie was knocked out cold. Her sleep was deep and black.

In her sleep, there was a dog licking her face. Only, the tongue felt rougher than a dog's tongue. It probably wasn't a tongue at all. It felt actually very real. It probably wasn't a dream. There it was again pecking against her cheek. From her closed eyes, she could tell that it was day light. She opened her eyes. A popcorn flew into her face.

"Ah, the mystery girl wakes," said a male sound with a playful British accent.

A skinny lad was squatting in front of her couch. He was wearing a green soccer jersey and track pants. It had the emblem of an English soccer club on it. He was holding a bowl with popcorn in his hand. From the pile of popcorn underneath her face, he had been tossing popcorn into her face for a while. The place was even more messy and overfilled with stuff.

"Who are you?" asked Jeannie. The bad smell on her breath made her shut her mouth instantly and cover it with her hands.

"Who might you be? After all, you are in my house," replied the soccer fiend.

"Denis invited me in. I didn't see you last night, when we had supper with Simone," said Jeannie speaking through her hands.

"Well, that's because I flew in from Rio this morning. Where do you think Denis gets his supply? He didn't tell me about a little birdie waiting for me," the soccer fiend cocked his head sideways to take a closer look at Jeannie.

"You can call him. It's really okay with him," insisted Jeannie.

"I can't bloody call him, because the feds are on the phone. How dumb do you think I am?" replied the soccer fiend angrily. "What's with your hands over your mouth anyway?"

"I have really bad breath," admitted Jeannie blushing from the cheeks to the forehead.

"Then, go brush your teeth. The bathroom is down that door," pointed the soccer fiend. When he pointed, the handle of a gun was revealed in the drawstrings of his green track pants.

"I can't. Simone took my panties last night and lost them," pleaded Jeannie.

"So, take one of hers. There are plenty around," the soccer fiend got up and took a couple small steps into different directions. Underneath the speakers of a stereo system that was somewhere else, he found a black sports pair. He pulled it up. He sniffed the crotch. "I can smell her. Though, most of the scent has gone. She must have worn it only once and let it air out for a couple weeks." He flung the sport panties into Jeannie's face.

With the soccer fiend having left to fetch a beer from the refrigerator, Jeannie's hands got busy under her sheets pulling Simone's panties up her legs. It fit snuggly. After all, she had Ray's semen dried on her pussy, Simone's spit as well, why not share used panties. She jumped on tippy toes over the mess on the floor. Her long, slender legs showed well. Her hair was a mess. She looked really intimate from having slept in her look. There were red marks on the side of her body from sleeping on her side.

The bathroom was surprisingly clean. It showed that a girl leaved here. Or perhaps, there was another girl. There were two circular plastic containers with pregnancy pills. There were five tooth brushes. Overall, there was a wild collection of jars and bottles. It was hard to tell how many people lived in this squatter house. There were so many shampoos and beauty items that she didn't even know about. She found a tooth brush, cleaned it up real nice. Tamarind flavored toothpaste? She sure didn't know what tamarind was. She was going to find out. Feeling the crispness of the toothpaste in her mouth and on her gums made her feel so much cleaner already.

The sound of the door opening made it into the bathroom. Footsteps followed. Simone's voice cut across everything. She was cheering "Ramon!" What followed must have been a full body hug. Jeannie hurt something breaking under Ramon's step. Something else got thrown over.

For some reason, she didn't know why, she felt caught like a little girl by her daddy doing something bad. Simone's panties and the toothbrush who belonged to who knows whom weren't helping. Frozen stiff, Jeannie stood there, the toothpaste foam, slowly oozing over her lips, down her chin and onto her bra between her breasts.

Simone threw the door open with exuberance. "Aw, you are up finally. And you have met Ramon. Isn't he the cutest, fuzziest man that walked the planet? That black looks good on you. You've got a real juicy little package." Simone slapped Jeannie on the butt with a sound that echoed back from the both sides of the bathroom at the same time. Simone was dressed in a skirt with a knitted top and a light-gray beanie that looked like a smurf's hat. The freshness of the outside air was still stuck on her clothes.

Simone reached for a raspberry-pink lip stick and freshened up her lips. She added a little plum-purple lipstick for contour. Jeannie continued brushing her teeth, recovering from her inner panic. Simone disappeared out of the bathroom as quickly as she had appeared.

With the implicit and tacit approval that was still burning on her butt, Jeannie continued freshening up using any bottle and jar how it made her curious. She stripped off the clothing. She took went into the shower. The water pressure had been the best of her life. The water brushed off any grime that she had felt on her body like a sand blaster.

Ramon walked into the bathroom and lifted up the toilet seat. Jeannie clutched the showerhead in both hands. The hot hiss of a loaded up male bladder sounded. "God dammit, I told you to sit down," hollered Simone. The water turned boiling hot, when he flushed. Jeannie kept mum and to herself behind the shower curtain and the sound of running water. Ramon walked out.

Jeannie put herself back into the black sport panties and her blue bra. She walked out half naked, her feet feeling the bare ground.

"Wow, she looks hotter by daylight," said Denis making a fake camera in front of his face with his fingers and snapped a shot. The kitchen counter had been cleared. White bricks were lying on the counter now. There was a pile of white in the middle. Everyone kept taking small crumbs away from the big pile. They used plastic cards to align the little bit of powder. There were stainless steel digital scales. There was a stack of little clear pouches.

"Rio's finest," said Ramon very proudly. His smile went so wide that it revealed one of his back teeth sparkling golden. "If you must sneeze, stay far, far away!" He laughed with excitement and joy.

"Good morning," said Jeannie unsure what to do next with her life.

Simone slipped of the bar stool and walked up to Jeannie. Simone came real close and gave her something into the hand and whispered into her ear: "Sex happens really fast and casually here. You have to always take your pill regularly. You probably didn't think to bring your pill. Here is one of mine." Jeannie slipped the pill into her mouth.

"How can I make myself useful," asked Jeannie.

Ramon tapped a bar stool for Jeannie to sit down. Then, he explained. "Take five gram of blow. Add five gram of flour. It's normal fucking flour. Then add five gram of caffeine powder. I like to sprinkle in a little of this artificial sweetener. It looks real fluffy. And it makes it taste better. Then shake the little packet real hard. And put some gloves on. That high grade stuff gets even through the skin in your hands. You'll get high quickly, simply holding it in your hand."

"Haha, I tell you a story. This one time, they caught me in the airport. I was sitting in one of those little interrogation rooms with the double sided mirror. I thought it was all over. And then I felt the blow coming on. One of the packets had ripped in my pocket. And I had blow on my hands. So, I asked the police officer for a glass of water. When he handed it to me, I made real sure to get my hands on his hands. Then, I wiped my hands clean on my pants, real clean. My high started to go away. Though, he didn't realize the blow on his hands. He got so high. By the time, his superior came into the room, he was high as a kite. I told his superior that he was trying to frame me to cover his drug habit. Haha, the guy was so high. The superior believed me and let me go! Venezuela was a beautiful country. I can never go back anymore."

They were all working diligently around the table. They were focused. The light in the room suggested late afternoon.

"So, is this devil's stuff for real? Sometimes, I think it could be real. And sometimes, I realize that it must be nonsense like the burning prayer hands at dinner," asked Jeannie

"There is nothing like experiencing it first hand," said Denis gravely. His eyes peered deeply into Jeannie's eyes to gather a reaction.

"Don't scare the girl like that," insisted Simone. "She barely escaped that hick town. It's enough for her to be middle in a drug lab on her first day."

"I can take it. I want to live," insisted Jeannie.

"We don't deal with the devil. We only summon lower level demons." Simone snapped off one blue Nitrile glove. She raised her skirt up. There was a black mark on her thigh. It looked like an Egyptian hieroglyph. There was a figure with a bird head. "This is the mark of Amon-Ra. It's a low level Egyptian demon. He bestows powers of pleasure. A few nights ago, I had a ceremony done to raise him. He is still in my body. Last night, I tuned into him. That's what gave you all that pleasure last night. I surrendered my body to be his servant. And he gave you beyond human pleasures. It lasts until the next full moon that I can turn myself over to him at will. Denis has been loving it, hasn't he?" Denis smiled smugly.

"Oh, it's the worst curse! It's hard to sleep around them at night. They are making so many noises. I prefer Greek demons. That's how I can sneak through the airport security." Ramon rolled up his sleeves to reveal a mathematic symbol on his shoulder.

"I want a demon that makes me fly," exclaimed Jeannie.

"First flying is way beyond lower level demons. You don't want to mess with the higher level demons. Second, on your first ceremony, you can't chose. The first ceremony is the initiation. At the initiation, you have to completely surrender to the cell and take what you are given. Once you are part of a cell, you can never go back. It's a decision that is not taken lightly, especially not an empty stomach," educated Denis.

A heavily bearded man walked in the door. He was short and chubby. He wore black pants and a black t-shirt. Without saying a word, he kicked of his shoes and stripped down his pants. He was in his shorts only. He fell back onto the couch. A minute later, his breath was roaring deeply asleep. Her hosts had only looked up for a second and went pack to packaging blow.

An hour later, a blond haired girl appeared in yoga pants with a Lululemon top. She went to the bathroom, clambered around there. She reappeared. She casually stripped of her clothing. Only in her underwear, colorful Calvin Klein stuff, she rolled herself into a blanket on a free couch.

"Are those part of the cell?" asked Jeannie quietly.

"No, they are part of the larger family. Some stay for a night. Some stay for a few weeks. Sometimes, they disappear from one day to the next," explained Simone. "Just like you disappeared today. Who knows if you don't get up and leave the next hour? All we can do is love and know that whatever people decide is the best for them."

They spent hours more packing blow. If anything, these people were dedicated and hard working. Occasionally, the mumbling in the sleep of one of the visitors pierced the silence. Occasionally, someone got up to go to the bathroom. Once in a while, they snacked on something far away from the blow to avoid accidentally ingesting it. When they were done, the cleaned the kitchen with industrial strength squeegees and a water hose. That's why the kitchen was so clean.

"I want to be part of the family. I don't want to be a drifter who only visits," stated Jeannie.

"Maybe, maybe, so," said Denis. "You are free to stay here for however long you want. That's all I invited you to. Being part of the cell is something entirely different. Simone stayed for months before we talked about it. There are obligations that come with it. Why don't you come on my trip tomorrow night and help me sell drugs. See if you like that."

"Thank you," said Jeannie modestly.

With that Denis, walked to the mattress in the corner. He stripped off his pants. He snuggled under the blanket in his underwear. Simone followed him. She carefully draped herself over his body. Ramon took of his track pants. He was wearing silk trunks underneath. Only dressed in silk trunks, he rolled into his sheet. Standing in the darkness, Jeannie called out, "Where am I to sleep? All the couches are taken. I don't want to sleep on the floor."

"Honey, our place is your place. You can sleep wherever you like. If you want a couch, nobody will mind sharing. You can also come to us on the mattress," Simone said in a warm and already sleepy voice.

Jeannie stripped off her mini jeans and t-shirt. She looked at the blond woman, whom she didn't even know the name, sleeping on the green couch. The long hair was splayed out wide. The body was on her side. Jeannie would be able to take the front half of the couch. That wasn't too bad.

She carefully sat down to avoid denting the upholstery too much and disturbing the sleeping host. She let her back carefully roll back. She flipped her feet on the couch. Then, she delicately tucked on the sheet to open up the folds and creases, so that she may stretch the fabric out and over her body. She could smell the woman's breathe. It smelled like salad and having already slept for a long time. The breathe smelled very intimate.

Jeannie touched the blonde's skin for a moment and froze. The blonde started moving. The blonde felt Jeannie's body. Instinctively, the blonde pulled Jeannie in. The blonde wrapped her arms around Jeannie. Then, she put her leg on to of Jeannie. The blonde drew Jeannie into a close full body hug, their skin and panties touching fully. The blonde nestled her face against Jeannie's cheeks. "I love you, whoever you are, stranger," whispered the blonde into Jeannie's ear.

Jeannie was stiff. This had never happened to her. The warmth of the other body was seeping into Jeannie. Jeannie could feel the breathing of the blonde. It felt so home, so cozy. Jeannie let her armor melt into the arms of the blond. She tweaked her body to comfortably cozy into the embrace and fell asleep.

The sleep had been deep and sound until someone tapped Jeannie on the arm. "Hey, Jeannie, it's time to get going. Do you still want to deal drugs with me?" asked Denis. Jeannie barely opened her eye to a blur of strangers eating dinner at the kitchen counter. "Yeah, I do. Let me get dressed," replied Jeannie sleepily. As she pulled gently out of the embrace of the blonde, the blonde hissed, "Dennis, go get your own mystery girl. She's mine." It was hard to pull the warm embrace off her. And the hands kept reaching after her. The hardest was feeling the warmth that had built between the bodies dissipate.

"Hi," said Jeannie to the strangers at the kitchen table in half her underwear and half in Simone's underwear, no longer ashamed. The diners waved back.

"I can't find my jeans," said Jeannie looking around, kicking a toy backhoe over and finding a post card underneath it.

"Pick something new! How about this black dress. We are going to a swanky place. It'll make you comfortable. Here, try these shoes," Denis was holding up a pair of high heels that had a clothing like fabric. The long tube of fabric extended half way up her thighs, when she put them on. With the black mini and the thigh high boot/heel combination, there was only a hand long spot of bare skin between the dress and her shoe. The dress was tight and showed her figure off.

"Where is Simone?" asked Jeannie.

"I don't know. She has her own life. Maybe, she is with one of her lovers," replied Denis. "We have to go."

"Who are the people at the counter?" Jeannie kept asking.

"You are already driving me mad with your questions. Some are part of the business. Some belong to the cell. Some are people we give shelter to for a while. It's an open house. We are late. We have to move product tonight to get cash for the down payment of the next shipment," insisted Jeannie.

With an eye, she saw her sea sack at the door. It was open and half empty. Some of the contents had been spilled out. There was a trail of her clothes leading toward the inside of the room. Apparently, the more interesting items had been held onto longer before they were tossed on the ground. "It's an open house," sounded in Jeannie's ears.

The black Ninja was still waiting in front of the house. Jeannie climbed behind Denis. The bike made her push out her butt again, high and bulbous. The black mini dress slipped up. She pulled it down. The moment, she sat down to straddle her thighs around the bike, it the mini lost its grip and slipped up again.

Not wanting to be a bother, she told Denis "go." He twisted the right hand. The Ninja whined like a punished child. Her butt flapped in the wind showing the black line of the sport panties in the middle of her pale flesh. There was no daddy to chastise her. With the group of people she had fallen into, she owned the night.

When they shot past the line of bars and clubs that were filling up this evening, the hollering of the boys went up, like a Harley driving past parked cars and rattling each car alarm to yell. She enjoyed the furor that followed them. "Only havoc was left in her path," she mumbled to herself. All the horny eyes were staring at her naked butt. And she was out of reach. They couldn't get her.

Denis rode out in the rural village. The fields and farm houses looked strangely familiar like a bad dream. The fresh air felt good after being inside a house for two nights. After two hours of night dreaming through the landscape, Denis pulled over at a lone road house. The bottom half of the wall was made from expensively looking river rocks. The upper half was made from highly finished wood. A man in a suit stood in front of the door. His stance was wide. He wore a kind of bell cap.

Denis turned off the engines. Jeannie used his shoulders to push herself off the bike. She stretched the mini skirt over her butt. She realized that she had no ID or money. She had a dress with no pockets on her body. She was at the complete mercy of Denis.

The door man opened the door gallantly at the sight of Denis. Denis handed a twenty dollar tips. "Is he still here?" asked Denis.

"He is still here. He is sitting at the booth in the far corner," answered the doorman.

Denis tapped the doorman on the shoulder gratefully. Jeannie followed him into the bar. The bar had booths that were dark for privacy. There was a stage up front with a small table, a rose, and two chairs. Disco lights were chasing across the room. The bar was half full. The people seemed to like it that way. The men were wearing suits. The women were in dresses or gowns. Some of the women had veils or masks.