Roxanne

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The sickness came next, and when she was done I had no real choice but to put her in the shower. She made the trip to the restroom in time to spew into the porcelain, but I jerked the sheets off the bed anyway due to an accumulation of body fluids of an entirely different nature.

She fell asleep in the shower - a small mercy really - since it allowed time for the hot water to loosen the muscles of her shoulders and neck. (Tenseness here is common with a hangover and one of the main reasons for the painful head and body aches common to the condition.) The hangover would still be debilitating, but she would live. I attempted to wash her body including to a certain extent her insides, and finally took off my own clothes and joined her in the shower while I washed her hair and scrubbed her body with hot water and soap.

I put her back to bed on the bare mattress and found the blankets on the floor and pulled them over us both. In her drunkenness she made the pass

at me that I had always hoped for but I was in no mood for her now. I would no more touch her privates with my mouth than I would stick drink from a sewer, though I did find some small pleasure in her as she slid her hands across my body. Her attention was lacking in energy or passion, and she and I eventually drifted back off to sleep.

Around 1130AM, the phone rang and she answered, and I sat and listened as her life fell apart. The strange truck in her driveway, lights & music on all night, and strange men leaving the house in the AM had all been duly noted by some nosy neighbor. All had been conveyed to her husband as some point that morning. The sound on the other end of the phone was shouting mostly, but it was mixed with some crying too, which broke my heart.

The call ended with the news her husband was headed home on the next plane, so Roxanne resolved to be half way back to her parents in California before he got there. She packed a suitcase, emptied the shelf of our accumulated stash of the speed, her video tape and a bowl full of half-smoked joints we had shared and she was in the car. At the last minute she thought to invite me to come along to help drive, and the trip to California sounded like the best offer in my lifetime.

I should have thought it through though, because as Roxanne sobered up and pieced things together the blame game began. She had been doing okay before she met me, and now her life was destroyed. It was all my fault and she wished she had never met me. How could I disagree?

She dumped me off without ceremony at a travel center about 50 miles north of Des Moines, which was over 100 miles from home. I had 16 dollars in my pocket, my pack with a single change of clean clothes, and not much else. Getting back home was going to be an adventure to itself, but that's a story for another day.

I never saw Roxanne again and have no idea whether she made it back to California. The house was up for sale the one time I dared go into the neighborhood to look, but that's really all I know.

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3 Comments
JBEdwardsJBEdwardsalmost 5 years ago
A rare story on Literotica

Your story is a window into a life most of us never see. It's a story of the human condition in all of its complexities. Yes, it's a sad story, even a very sad story, and a powerful one because it speaks to all of us in one way or another. As just a side to the story, one wonders if the nosy neighbor in her self righteousness (or his, who knows?) ever realized just how much damage she or he did to the lives of three young people? Yes, Roxanne did behave badly, but why insert yourself into the intimate lives of other people? As for the narrator, presumably you yourself, you certainly had one hell of a hard life! Thank you for sharing this story with us, too. -- JB

BiggaluteBiggalutealmost 6 years ago
Good story

You write so well. Your stories can be hard going, sad and brutal but always well written and demand my attention. Thanks for writing and sharing x

elling50elling50almost 6 years ago
Sad story

A sad story very well told. 5x

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