Salvation of the Third Kind Ch. 2 & Ch. 3byWhiff666©
He felt better after the good club sandwich, and full glass of milk. Susan had gulped down the chocolate eclairs, but hadn't touched the sandwich or the milk or the bread. She hadn't said a word for the last hour, just stared at him. She had started rubbing her thighs, nervously, and had been pacing for the last ten minutes. There was a new, edgy look in her eyes.
Suddenly, she hurried over to the little bar, and pulled at the door. When it didn't open, she stared at it, then looked at him. "Danny, open it, will you. I need a drink." He told her to eat something. She answered "Fuck that, little brother. I need a drink." She shivered again, and her eyes softened. She stood, and cupped her braless breasts through the tank. "You like 'em, huh Danny. You always have, honey. C'mon, get me a drink, baby, and let's get it on. We always wanted to, didn't we? I remember your little cock getting so hard when we'd cuddle. It isn't so little anymore, Danny." She giggled, a strained, choked sort of sound. "Maybe I oughta call you big brother, from now on. C'mon, baby. It'll be great. Remember how you used to peek at me when I showered? You thought I didn't know. Fucking Bradley. I used to watch you beat off too, honey. I remember trying to get Ma to send you to the local school, so you could get laid. You never thought girls liked you. Fucking Bradley. Fucking private school."
His anger fired again. He could feel himself charging up, wanting to strike out. He closed his eyes. "Susan, sit down. Sit down."
She waited for a moment, then pleaded "C'mon, Danny, open it, please? I really need something, I mean, just a taste, that's all honey." He pushed the chair back, and as he rose, caught the edge of his knee on something under the table. He felt a surge of anger, and reached her with two long steps, grabbing her wrist, and throwing her to the bed. He stood over her, breathing hard, and her eyes were wide as she stared back at him. "Go ahead, Danny. Beat on me, then fuck me, baby. I like it rough, honey." His stomach did something strange, and he exhaled noisily, the anger leaving him as quickly as it had come.
Through his confusion, he heard a soft knock on the door. He had to change gears. Oh. The Doctor. His mind whirling, he pushed the table with the silver and food into a corner, and hurried to open the door. The lightskinned, heavy set black man standing there with a satchel in his hands stared at him. "Mr. Harcourt?"
He just nodded.
"Josh Newcome, Mr. Harcourt. Can I come in?"
He realized he must look strange, standing there, breathing hard, and mumbled "Dan Harcourt, Dr. Newcome. Forgive me for being rude. Please do come in."
The man took three long, ponderous steps, then stared at Susan, spread eagled on the bed, rubbing her thighs again, at the table littered with food in the corner, and the clothes strewn around. His gaze returned to Susan. He seemed lost in thought for a moment. Then he said "Mr. Harcourt, she probably ought to go to a hospital. She has to detox. Get the various poisons, god knows what they might be, out of her system, then some behavioral stuff. About all I can do is give her a sedative to keep her calm. She's starting to come down, now. It's always hard to tell what they'll do when this happens, but it's almost always awful."
He took a deep breath. Calm, calm. "Dr. Newcome, I want to be completely candid with you. We have a complex family situation, which unfortunately spills over to our monetary situation. Neither Susan nor I could pay for the first hour of a hospital. But your fee here will go on a credit card that has a nice high limit. She has gotten to this point quickly, she was reasonably normal a year and a half ago, and this is the first hint of problems we've had. Without imposing on your medical judgement, I would beg you to help me try to do this myself, without involving anyone else. I have good reasons for wanting to do it that way."
At that moment, Susan groaned. "Danny, Danny, I need some help, honey. Just a little help. Can this man do it, honey? Come on, honey. Be nice to Susan, okay?"
Newcome looked at him, then sighed, sat down beside the blonde, who wiggled a little, and held her arm out to him. He began examining her, seeming to pay particular attention to those red marks, and pushed up the pants to look behind her knees. It took about ten minutes, then he sat straight, and looked at Dan. Again, he seemed to be thinking. Appearing to come to a decision, he rose, picked up his bag, put it on the table beside Susan, and opened it. As he puttered around, he said "The tracks are new, relatively recent. I can't see any other signs of her using. When you found her, was she high, excited, or comatose, dreamy? Right, well, that does sound like heroin. You may be very lucky, Dan. Can I call you Dan? Here's what we can do. I'll take some blood, and get the tests run. May I assume I should take some vaginal samples too? Right, thought so. Not as rare as you might think, Dan. I'll give her a sedative, it'll last about ten hours. Help me get her undressed, Dan. You're in for a rather exciting twenty four hours."
An hour later, he was sitting in the chair, watching Susan sleep, sipping a beer. He had thought about calling Mother, but decided she probably didn't want to hear anything, assuming, as she always did, that no news was good news. His mind, now under control, reviewed the last hours. He didn't feel any shame about jacking off on her. He had been so tense, with her closeness, so overwhelmed, so excited. He remembered her revealing her own feelings as she pleaded for a drink. Wonder how true that was, he thought.
The Doctor's words, "I'll call you at seven, Dan. By then, I'll be able to confirm that it's heroin, let you know if there's any venereal disease, though you understand the Aids problem, don't you? Right. Tomorrow around noon, I'll let you know if there appears to be anything like meningitis, that sort of thing. At that point, I can give you some more pills. All they are is a barbiturate that will let her deal with the withdrawal more easily. She can have a drink tomorrow, and smoke tobacco if she wants. Theoretically, if everything is as it appears, she should be pretty well detoxed by then. Let me put some antiseptic on that hand of yours."
He thought about the lecture he was missing today. "Business Policy in a World Market." Who the fuck cared. It was downhill from here, he wasn't going to be a Baker Scholar, somehow he hadn't cared enough to make the effort the second year, though he had been good enough coming out of first year. All he had been able to think about was getting a good job, breaking free of the monetary yoke of his parents, buying that Jag in the little show room over on the South Side. He already had three fabulous offers. A flashback hit him, Susan, eighteen years old, going away to College, kissing him on the mouth in front of Bradley and Mother. Whispering "Fuck 'em, Danny, just remember me, okay." Then french kissing him wantonly.
He felt himself choking, wanting to cry. He looked again at her relaxed face, just as a frown took away the soft peacefulness. Then her whole body twitched. But she settled back down, and he gave a sigh of relief. Christ. She was gonna wake up in the middle of the night.
He took the elevator down, then walked in the sultry, late afternoon chill to the drugstore around the corner. He picked up a razor, he needed a new one anyway, and Advil. It was better than asiprin. Muscle aches, fever, nausea, you couldn't beat Advil. He grabbed a paperback, a pack of cigarettes, and at the last minute, a pack of condoms. He flushed at the idea, but kept them as he paid, with Doke's money. It hadn't been Doke who got her like this, he thought. Somebody else. Maybe one of those fags she had been with last time he saw her. He made a note to himself, in his mind, to try to worm it out of her. As he walked back, he stared down a black guy who eyed him from a corner. Until the guy sauntered away, he hadn't realized he'd stopped, wishing the guy would make a move. Wanting to hit someone.
A noise woke him, and as he jolted out of a dream of making love to a faceless woman, he heard rattling around in the bathroom. He bolted, half asleep, in after her, and found her with her head under the spigot, gasping, then drinking, then gasping again. He pulled her roughly away. She turned and aimed a slap at him, water spitting out of her mouth. He caught the wrist, and held it, waiting for some semblance of awareness to return to them both.
Her eyes were wide, fear, or terror, or hate, he couldn't tell. Then "Danny? Where am I, Danny? What happened? Where's Doke? Danny, can you help me, Danny? I need a little help, honey. Did he leave something for me, darling? Come on, honey, I'll make you feel good, baby." He sighed as he dragged her back into the room, toward the bed, struggling with each other, her tits bouncing, trying not to notice. His cock was hard, and he had to pee. Jesus.
He slapped her hard across the jaw, wanting to somehow jolt her, make her see herself, become the Susan he knew. She collapsed, glancing off the side of the bed, then falling in a heap to the floor. He remembered Doke. But she started to bawl, in long moans, gasping after each, as he stood over her with his cock tenting his boxers. He reached down and pulled her up, feeling that goddamn hair under her arms. He pushed her back on the bed, where she fell, curled up, still sobbing. He hurried into the bathroom. It took a few moments for his penis to let the piss out. As he finished, he grabbed a glass, and filled it from the tap.
Where were the pills? Bedside table. He found them on the floor, must have been knocked off. It was one of those bottles you had to press and turn. He knelt beside her, pulling her hands away from her face, wet from her tears. "Take these, Susan. Here." He pushed them into her mouth, then showed her the glass of water. She stared at him, then at the water. Sighing, she lurched to a sitting position, her knees spread on either side of him as he knelt there. His eyes fell to the crotch of her red panties. He saw a quick grin on her face, then a frown, and a shudder, and she grabbed the glass, gulping it down, swallowing, then coughing. She took a deep breath, then closed her eyes. Tears squeezed out onto her cheeks.
He started to rise, to get the Advil, but she stopped him. In a small voice, trembling "Danny, Danny, d...don't go, stay with me. Did you cold cock Doke? I think I remember that. You jizzed on me, too. I remember that. You...we were both naked. I wanted you to fuck me, Danny. The Doctor. Oh shit, Danny. I hurt honey. Look, where'd you bring me? If we're uptown, you can get right down on tenth street, honey. Ask for Louie. Underneath the "Sweet Spot". It's a bar. Tell 'em it's for Bliss, baby. He'll make it right." He saw her head nod. A shiver ran through her.
He got up, went in to the bathroom, and splashed water on his face. He ran his fingers through his hair, wet, so the wildness wasn't so bad. He went back, and found her on her back, staring at the ceiling. Her boobs stood full and firm, leaning to the side slightly. She was wiggling her toes, and looked over as he approached. "You've gotten big, Danny. Buffed, too. Can't remember the last time I saw you without clothes on. Why wouldn't you fuck me, Danny? That was a big load you dumped on me. I'd have liked that in my pussy, honey. My little brother, so strong, saving me, Danny, help me Danny, I need some thing, Dannnyyyyyyy."
He lay down and nuzzled to her, one arm under the pillow, the other around her waist, His cock was pulsing. She rolled to him, groaning. "You want me to turkey, don't you Danny? Oh darling, I'm just chippin' honey. I can get off it, really. But I need it now. It's been a stressful day, Danny. Jus' need somethin' to relax, that's all. I'll give you a nice blow job, little brother. Don't you beat off no more, now. I guess I might get pregnant, baby, but I'd love to eat your spunk, honey. I like the taste, I do. And I'm good at it, everybody says so."
There was a long silence, as she snuggled to him. His cock was starting to pulse, her naked boobs, pillowing as she writhed gently against his fevered skin, starting to excite him toward madness. He was having trouble breathing. He heard her start to whisper "You're not gonna do it, are you Danny? You think it's terrible, you think I'm terrible, an addict, a whore." She started to cry mournfully again. "Danny, I am, I am. Help me baby, help me." Another long silence, as she sniffled softly, wiggling closer to him.
"Danny, fuck me, Danny. Remember when we used to fight, you said I was a hippy whore? I remember, I wanted to jump you right there. You were so handsome, mad like that, so forceful. You still are baby. I fucking near creamed every time you slapped me. I remember that, too. I'll be good, darling. And it helps, y'know. Last time, when Eddie got me down, he had all these guys, and they fucked me one after the other. It helped take the edge off, Danny. It helps, Danny. So fuck me, baby. Shoot your cum up in there, we've wanted to all these years, come on, honey, come on."
Her hand had snuck down to the slit in his shorts, and she pulled out his cock, stroking it. She sniffled, and took a deep breath, then she started edging down his body, kissing his chest, then his navel. As her mouth engulfed his prick, sinking it slowly into her throat, feeling her muscles work around it, his hands gripped her head. He tried to pull her away, but she batted his arms away, and it got to be too good. He groaned, feeling sadness, passion, regret, and wonder at this whole tragic scene. She went on and on.
Suddenly, as she jerked up and smiled at him, he saw a little line of liquid connecting her lips with the head of his cock. "You're starting to leak, darling. Good sign, good sign. Eat me a little, okay? Just a a bit. I'm already hot, Danny." He saw a shadow cross her face, and a quick frown, and another shiver. Then she rocked back and skinned off her panties. Lying there with her legs pointing toward him, raised and spread, she pulled her cunt lips apart. "Right there, baby. Right there, see, the clitty. Go ahead, baby. Make me feel good. Get my mind off the shit." That was what did it, he always thought. The sense that fighting with his urges only deepened her pain.
Somehow, he expected her to taste nasty, raw, fishy. But she was sweet smelling, musky, a tart taste over a lightness, he thought. She was already wet, and his tongue lashed into her deep, helped by her yawning hole as she held it wide open. When his tongue flicked at the hard spot at the top of her ovaled inner lips, her hips jerked against his mouth, knocking his head back. "Ohh sorry, Danny. Feels so good, baby. Go ahead, go ahead."
He covered the whole top of her slit, sucking hard, his tongue touching more carefully on her clit. He tried to caress it, with the flat, rather than zing it. She was sighing, undulating nicely, not too much, but enough to help him, to urge him on. He kept at it, and felt her slowly increase the urgency of her movements. His wildly spinning mind thought maybe she'd be satisfied if he could get her off this way. He felt her hands over his ears, pulling, but grabbed her wrists, and kept up his sucking and tonguing. Dimly, around the roar in his ears, he heard her start to wail "Yes, yes darling, oh god yessssss."
His mouth suddenly filled with cream, as her hips went wild and he opened wider, trying to stay with her. The suction broke, his tongue flicked out, and she squeaked when he hit the hard little nub. He was having trouble breathing. She was gasping, muttering unintelligibly, occasionally arching upwards, as her cunt fluttered around his buried tongue. After a moment, he heard her groan breathily, "Stop, baby, stop. Fuck that was nice. You aren't a cherry anymore, huh Danny? You know what you're doing down there."
He raised to his knees, wrapping his hand around his cock. It wouldn't take much, and he figured she was finished, for a while. Susan saw him, and scrambled up to grab his hand. "No, honey, no. Want the main course now, baby. Come on Danny. Fuck your screwed up sister." He choked "Wait, wait Susan. Need a rubber." He scrambled to the bedside table where the package was, and shakily, extracted the little envelope. As he turned back to her, she slapped it out of his hand. "No, baby, no skin. Want it bareback from you, Danny. Those ass holes, always made them wear a skin, I think. Gimme a baby, little brother. Come on."
She sounded as though she was in agony. Her face was frowning in a sad, yet excited way. "Fill me baby. With that big cock, and your jiz. I always wanted you, Danny. Always. Used to get off with your jockeys in my hand. Fuck me, baby, fuck me. Here, let me put it in. Ahhhhhh, shit that feels good. Do it Danny. Oh god, finally." He was staring at her, wondering as he plunged into her oozing hole whether he was ruining himself, yet knowing he would never regret this moment. He felt his dong bump something at the bottom, then push through it, hadn't ever felt that before, but began to undulate in and out slowly, the thrills scarily wild, his heart so full he could hardly keep his head. The terrible crack house was gone, her sickening behavior, the stench forgotten, all there was the memory of her running through the woods, hair flying, skirt bobbing up and down, those long legs beating him every time, as his mind became thirteen, yearning for his sister all over again.
She began to groan in time with his thrusts. Her legs gradually worked up from his thighs to his back, as he ground harder and harder into her, soaring, the gentle friction on his cock seeming to radiate throughout his body. Their skin was slippery now, sweat lubricating the rub of her nipples on his stomach, her lips and mouth sucking and groaning in a rhythm that seemed to dominate his mind. He lost track of time, and no thought of control lingered. There was just the thrill, the rapture, as images flashed in his throbbing soul, until suddenly, she pulled away, arched, and began calling "Oh, oh, oh."
Then, as his hips began a crazy tattoo, she groaned, and held her pussy against his groin, eyes shut, lost in some other world. He felt the contractions, and began to shoot. The release flung him away somewhere, out there, soaring in ecstacy, a place he'd never been before. He couldn't think, couldn't stop his hips from humping, couldn't see. His mind suddenly filled with an old image of her body in profile, water running over it, hands washing her hair, causing little jiggles of her tits. He felt his cock spasming, time after time, each a thrill beyond dreams.
He collapsed onto his elbows, gasping, and gradually began to hear her crying, an honest, gentle, unforced release of her own. He kept kissing her, lightly, tasting the salty tears, wondering if she was sad, wondering if he'd made her happy, wondering if she was still feeling the pain of withdrawal. He finally raised up to look at her face, to find she was smiling.
Dr. Newcome smiled as he pulled the stethoscope away from her chest. "She's a lucky young lady, Dan. All the tests are clear, and I have to tell you there wasn't any sign of antibodies we often see in Aids patients. Even before the tests show it. Do you have any idea..."
Susan piped up "Doctor, I'm the fucking patient, am I not? You could address me. I mean, what am I? Chopped Liver? Okay, I know, but still. I'm better, really. It'd be nice, to get high, it feels good, y' know, but I can live without it. Thanks to you, and Danny. Still, I know it isn't over. The problem is, where do I go from here? Can you help, Doctor? I can't go to Betty Ford. If you need to know something, how 'bout asking me."