Adventures with Leslie Ch. 20

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Leslie falls apart.
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Part 20 of the 25 part series

Updated 10/11/2022
Created 08/19/2007
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Chapter 20 – Relapse

The ringing telephone woke me the next morning. Being in a new setting and not being sure where the phone in my new room was, I didn't bother to move all that quickly. The ringing stopped rather quickly, forcing me to assume that Brooke had answered the phone.

I didn't get up; I just laid there on the couch in my new room. My eyes adjusted to the sunlight that filled the room. I was stretching my arms over my head when I heard footsteps on the stairs. The footsteps then proceeded down the short hall towards me. I heard a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," I said.

Brooke opened the door and stood before. She was so good-looking, wearing a tight grey t-shirt and very short green shorts. It was quite evident that she had no bra on. I loved looking at her.

"That was Leslie," she indicated, waving the cordless phone in her right hand. "She canceled our shopping trip today. She's a mess."

"Why do you say that," I inquired.

"Mindy left for school this morning," she reminded me. "I could hear that Leslie had been crying. She would never admit it. I was going to take her shopping to get her mind off of it, but she canceled. She said she had shit to do, but I think she was just hurting."

Thinking about what Brooke had just said was making we very nervous. Leslie was a wonderful woman but she was not the most emotionally stable person. She had reacted very well inside the confines of the game but after last night's deal with Mindy and today's departure, I agreed she might be suffering internally.

"You should go by and check on her later," I advised Brooke.

"I might," she responded. "What are you doing today?"

"I am headed back to the house to pack some more stuff," I declared. "It's not going to pack itself."

"I'm going for a run," she informed me.

She leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. She then headed down the stairs and I heard the front door open and close. I dragged my ass up off the couch to discover it was much later in the morning than I thought. It was already 11:30am and my day had not even begun. I quickly threw some water on my face and was out the door as well.

I reached the house by noon and started to examine what need to be packed. I pulled out a duffle bag and started to fill it with cloths and things I felt I would need in the immediate future at Brooke's. I was thinking about Leslie, feeling a sense of concern as well as empathy. I debated calling her but continued instead to pack shit up.

Finally, after 2 or 3 boxes were full I grabbed my cell and dialed eagerly.

"Hello," she answered somberly. Her voice was low and sounded somewhat horse.

"How are you," I asked.

"I doing fine," she answered very blandly with a big sigh, more flat than I had ever heard her.

"Brooke said you canceled shopping with her today," I admitted. "I was concerned you were down over Mindy leaving."

"I will be fine," she repeated lifelessly. "Enjoy your day."

She hung up on me, but it was a slow hang up, not the usual fast click of the line disconnecting. I was very concerned. I continued packing but could not get her off my mind. As I was filling another box I couldn't help but think about Leslie.

She sounded upset but it was more than that. It was lonely but not just lonely. I was deeply disturbed by her lack of energy. I hated to see her in any kind of pain, but I was not sure what I could or should do about it. I felt like I was in a tough spot. My thoughts and concerns were for her, but I also didn't want to overstep my boundaries. I knew this was different but I was still gun-shy after my idiotic attempt to take more control in this game. Upsetting her any further was the absolute last thing I wanted to do.

As I was midway through filling the next box with crap, the doorbell rang. I wondered who that could possibly be. I wasn't expecting anyone so I had no concrete idea who could be ringing my bell. I made my way through the ever growing maze of boxes and got to the door. Much to my surprise and delight, Vivian was standing at the door. I opened the door and she quickly stepped inside.

"What a pleasant surprise," I stated.

She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. She smelled fantastic, like wildflowers of some sort, and she looked even better. She was wearing a white tube top and very short denim shorts with a thin brown belt. Her hair was teased big and she had on white 4 inch pumps to complete the ensemble. She had on more make up than I remember her wearing in the past, including bright red lipstick. I was awestruck and my groin began to react.

"I was hoping to catch you here," she giggled. "Leslie said it was ok for me to come help you."

"That is very sweet of you," I admitted.

Her mention of Leslie made me think about calling her again. That thought subsided as we made our way to the living room full of boxes marked "His" or "Hers." Vivian grabbed one of the markers on the table and crossed out "Hers" on the box nearest to her. She then wrote "BITCH" on it instead.

"Doesn't that seem more like it," she asked, chuckling the entire time.

"You are being naughty," I chastised her playfully.

"Just you wait," she retorted.

"Well, since you came to help me pack, we should get to it," I urged.

"I said I came to help you, not help you pack," she said to me seductively. "I don't do moving, I do movers."

My cock sprang to life in my pants. I stared at her intently. She walked over to me among the boxes and kissed me passionately. I grabbed her tight ass in those short shorts and groped it feverishly. She released her lip lock on me and squatted right where she stood. She undid my belt and dropped my pants. My cock poked through my boxers until she lowered them and let it spring free.

I breathed deeply as she grabbed my rod with her right hand and began to stroke it. She extended her tongue and ran it up and down my shaft. She lubed my 6 inch tool with her saliva as she licked its length. I looked down at her blonde hair and pretty face, watching her made me harder as she lapped at my pecker. She blew lightly on the tip of my cock as she stroked it firmly. She licked the underside of my helmet and I groaned.

Vivian giggled before placed my shaft between her bright red lips and engulfed my length. She took my pole into her mouth quickly and repeatedly. I groaned as she worked my dick with her bright red lips. She licked the tip again and stroked the shaft. I loved how she did it and my head was in the clouds. She put my staff back into her mouth and swallowed it until she gagged slightly.

As she withdrew it and surrounded it again with her orifice I sighed. She increased her pace and bobbed on my rod with fury. She took it deep into her throat repeatedly as I groaned. My cock was covered in her saliva as she devoured me continually. She extracted my tool once again and began stroking it while she licked and sucked the base of it. She nibbled and sucked my scrotum while she pounded my penis with her hand.

I groaned loudly as once again she swallowed my member. She moved her mouth up and down my shaft swiftly. She took me deep into her oral cavity over and over until I felt my peak begin to arrive. I twitched as she consumed my cock and I reached my climax. I shot jet after jet after jet of hot, white liquid into her mouth. She ingested every drop of what felt like a gallon of goo I dumped into her mouth. I breathed out deeply and looked down at her.

She allowed my spent shaft to slide out of her mouth and I made my way to the couch. I sat for a moment and looked up at her longingly.

"What are the rules for today," I asked out of breath.

"I didn't get any," she disclosed. "Leslie just said to do whatever I wanted."

That struck me as extremely odd. Leslie always had rules and a method to her madness. This freelance attitude didn't sound right. Why would she send Vivian here with no rules?

"Viv, did you call her or did she call you," I inquired, seeking a direction to several theories running through my head currently.

"I called her," she confirmed. "She said that I could come here if I wanted to and do whatever I liked."

"Did she sound down or depressed," I pressed her.

"I'm not sure," she hedged. "Why?"

"I think I should go check on her," I stated. I pulled up my boxers and my pants, settling them back into place. "She seems not to be herself today at all."

"But I had plans for you," she whined.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I will make it up to you, but this could be really important."

I knew Vivian could not know what I knew about Leslie. I was terribly worried now. I looked around to gain my bearings and headed for the front door.

"Call Brooke and tell her to meet me as Leslie's," I yelled. "And lock the door when you leave."

"You're welcome," she yelled angrily after me but I was already out the door and could not answer.

I thought Vivian might be upset, but right now my focus was on Leslie. I sped to her house in record time, weaving around cars and running lights, praying the entire time that my gut feeling was not correct. I called Leslie's house but there was no answer. I desperately wanted to be over thinking this one. I called her cell phone but it went straight to voicemail. I feared more and more with each passing minute that I was correct in my assumption.

I pulled up and left my car in the driveway, directly in front of Leslie's car. I ran to the front door and rang the bell. No one answered. After a moment I rang the bell again. Then again quickly. Three more rings with no answer. I grabbed the handle of the door and found it unlocked. I entered and quickly searched for Leslie.

I searched the living room, kitchen and dining room with no sign of her. I checked the backyard and saw nothing. I was beginning to feel frantic. I retreated into the house and bolted upstairs. I threw open the door to Mindy's room as I passed but she was not in there. I burst into Leslie's bedroom but she no sign of her there either. I turned to exit but something stopped me. I am not sure what made me check the bathroom.

I opened the bathroom door and there she was. She was sitting on the floor, her back against the wall and her legs straight out in front of her. I looked around and saw an open bottle of pills on the counter. Two pills were on the counter next to the bottle. I stepped over Leslie and snatched the bottle off the counter to examine it closely. They were prescription sleeping pills, with Brooke's name on them. There were multiple pills still in the container.

Leslie finally looked up at me. Her eyes rolled back in her head. I dropped to my knees and was greeted by the stiff smell of alcohol. I grabbed her by the back of the neck and shook her head lightly until her eyes were fully open and focused on me.

"Leslie," I addressed her loudly, "how many pills did you take?"

She did not speak. She held up her index finger, indicating she had taken only 1 pill. Was she lying to me? I was terrified and nervous beyond words. How could I trust what she was telling me?

"Leslie," I directed my voice at her again, "how much did you drink?"

"Aaaa lllot," she slurred. Her head fell forward.

"Do you feel tired," I asked her clearly.

She shook her head no, which I took as a small relief. I left her there and ran back downstairs. I entered the kitchen and immediately noticed the empty bottle of vodka in the sink. I searched the cabinets until I discovered where she kept her booze. I pulled out a few bottles and set them on the counter. I removed two glasses from the cabinet and placed them on the counter in front of the bottles. I filled one half way with rum and one half way with tequila.

I headed back upstairs. Leslie was still seated with her back against the wall, swaying from side to side. I knelt down and approached her with the two glasses.

"Leslie, are you feeling lonely," I asked her softly.

She nodded wildly. I offered her the glass of rum and she took it from me quickly. She put it to her lips and slugged it back straight. She seemed to struggle to get it down, which was exactly what I wanted. She snapped her head back after her last gulp and stared at me.

"Still lonely," I pushed her, praying she would take the bait.

She nodded furiously. I handed her the tequila and she threw it back, with much more difficulty. After several long minutes and short swallows, the glass was only one third empty of what I had filled it with. Leslie looked at me, handed me back the glass and began scrambling across the bathroom floor. She threw her head into the toilet and began vomiting violently.

I moved next to her and held back her beautiful black hair as she heaved her guts out into the bowl. After 6 or 7 forceful streams of puke, Leslie sat back a little and looked at me. I was completely pleased with myself. Now it did not matter how many pills she took. Tears began pouring down her face.

"I'm gonna die alone," she cried, still very drunk.

"No you're not," I contradicted her. "We all care about you too much so I won't let that happen. We need you to take care of all of us and run this game."

I knew she would not remember what I was saying anyway, so I put it out there. She sat there and sobbed loudly. I stood up and grabbed one of the wash cloths on the rack behind the toilet. I ran it under warm water and then bent down again. I wiped Leslie's face and mouth with the warm rag. I put the rag in the sink when I was done and handed her a towel.

I scooped her up into my arms and headed downstairs. I laid her on the couch and grabbed the kitchen garbage can to place beside her, in case she needed to vomit again. She lay there and stared at me but said nothing. I sat on the floor by the edge of the couch as she did not move from it. She drifted in an out of consciousness over the next several hours.

At about 8pm Brooke came through the door and saw Leslie sleeping on the couch and me sitting on the floor next to it. I stood up and walked over to her.

"What happened here," she said.

"Lower your voice," I instructed her. "She needs to sleep this off."

I told Brooke what happened. She looked at me intensely and then hugged me as hard as I have ever been hugged in my life.

"Thank you for caring about my sister," she cried into my chest.

"Brooke," I whispered to her, "despite what you think, I am not the best man for this game. I care about all of you and it takes a toll on me. My tank is on empty right now."

"That's why you are the best man for this game," she replied softly. "When Leslie asked me to play in the game, I asked her what kind of man you were. All she said was that any man with a high sex drive could run around and screw multiple women, but it took the heart of lion to care about all of them too."

I held her for a moment and then kissed her on the top of the head. I released her and told her I was going back to her place, since I had to work the next day. I exited the house quietly and got in the car. It was the longest ride I have ever taken though it was only about 15 minutes. I thought only of what happened and how I reacted.

What could come next? I felt that I was not cut out for this.

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