The Descent Ch. 18

Amanda tapped out a healthy mound of cocaine onto the cheap metal of the toilet paper dispenser in the grungy bathroom of the bowling alley, already noticing how empty her little brown vial had become despite her having filled it before her shift had begun just 5 hours earlier.

"Fuck," she cursed to herself knowing that making it the remaining few hours of her shift was going to be a lot less tolerable without a consistent supply of coke splattered on the front of her pre-frontal cortex.

Realizing that there wasn't going to be enough to get really blasted again after this 'bathroom break' Amanda decided to just tap out the rest and make the most of the moment. Pushing it further than she probably should if she were concerned at all about an overdose, which she wasn't, Amanda began snorting noisily from the obscene mountain of narcotics. Her loud suctioning noises echoed off the hard surfaces of the empty employee bathroom and she paid them no mind as she switched nostrils.

As the supply dwindled and disappeared up her nose Amanda felt her heart begin to beat rapidly and her body tingle with excitement and pleasure. God she fucking loved getting high. Aside from getting fucked, it was perhaps the best thing in the world. Combining the two, however, was the pinnacle of human experience as far as she was concerned. At a ripe 18-years of age, Amanda had already decided that she wanted to remain high and full of cock for as much of her waking life as possible for the foreseeable future.

Any potential consequences of her actions seemed so far away as not to be currently relevant and scamming some old dude into being her sugar daddy or just starting an OnlyFans seemed to erase any need to pursue a career. As far as Amanda was concerned, life was about having fun and feeling good and there was nothing that beat doing drugs and getting fucked. An understanding made even more frustrating when she was both out of drugs and stuck at work. She wished she had a work fuckbuddy, but her only co-worker was an old hag named Carole and even though she wasn't averse to lesbian play she wasn't interested.

There would always be something about getting dicked down that no woman could satisfy, especially not ugly old hags in their 60's. Amanda went back to the lanes and doled out bowling shoes, fixed shitty old scoring computers and reset thirty-year-old bowling equipment for another couple of hours before she felt the need for more drugs begin clawing at her nervous system. She wished she was 21 so she could help herself to the taps or spirits, but Carole watched her like a hawk ever since she was caught sneaking vodka a year ago.

That left with her a dwindling cocaine high and an uncomfortable physical sensation climbing its way up the back of her skull.

"Gonna take a 10," Amanda called out after helping a group of older men to their lanes.

Carole eyed Amanda and nodded, having already expressed extreme dissatisfaction at the teens smoking habit but having nothing for her to do about it other than glare.

Amanda stepped out to the back of the building to a dirty alleyway. She wished she could just smoke in front on one of the benches, but Carole was adamant that it was a bad look for her young employee to be seen smoking by customers. So, she sat on a white bucket next to a large, industrial-sized green metal garbage container in a smelly alleyway half a dozen times per shift to smoke.

Amanda shook out a Camel Crush from her pack and placed it between her puckered lips, lighting with practiced ease before collapsing her lungs and drawing a thick mouthful of smoke. Removing the orange filter from her painted pink lips she snapped the smoke down her throat noisily and held it captive within her until the warmth and nicotine washed over her.

"Fuuuuck," she moaned aloud through a long exhale of smoke cascading from her mouth.

"Can I bum one?" came an unfamiliar voice that scared the shit out of her.

She had involuntarily closed her eyes as she'd been enjoying the feeling of smoking a much-needed cigarette and hadn't even noticed a man that had ambled up to her from the other side of the garbage container.

"Um, sure," came her reply as she shook out a Camel and offered it to the man.

He took it graciously, smiling at her with a mouthful of missing teeth.

"Need a light?" she asked, holding up her lighter.

"Nope, got one," he replied, holding up a torch style lighter and lighting himself up triumphantly.

Amanda studied the man a moment while they both enjoyed their cigarettes. He was black, probably somewhere in his 40's, wearing a huge brown jacket made of canvas that stretched to just above his knees. His pants appeared to be tan khaki, but they were so dirty and stained that it was hard to tell. He was thin and his face was heavily creased with wrinkles that should have only been present on someone much older, but his faded brown eyes and overall aesthetic left little doubt that he was a slave to some substance that had been hollowing him out for a long time.

The man caught Amanda staring and smiled again, showing off matching rows of empty spaces where his front teeth ought to have been on the top and bottom. That gave Amanda an idea.

"You holding anything?" she asked the man.

His smile seemed to get even wider.

"What'chu lookin for honey?" he asked, seeming to shake in his boots at the prospect.

"I'll take anything, I've got another hour of clean up and I'll take anything to get through it," she replied, jerking her thumb in the direction of the building behind her.

The man seemed to understand what she was saying and began digging through his huge jacket pocket, pulling out a tiny glass straw and a baggy.

"You smoke rock?" he asked, holding up his offerings.

Amanda hadn't ever seen it before, but she was sure she was looking at crack and a crack pipe. It definitely didn't have the same glamorous aura that doing lines of coke did, but it was essentially the same thing, right?

"First time," she said, making sure to smile big to convey her willingness to try it.

The man walked closer to her and held out the pipe, clearly intending on her to bring her lips up to it. She looked at the little glass straw, blackened on one end and shuddered. This had escalated quickly.

She placed her lips on the cleaner of the two ends that the man was presenting to her and waited. The homeless man flicked his lighter and tilted the pipe up as he brought the flame into contact with the already blackened side.

"Suck," he commanded plainly.

Amanda did as she was told, and soon acrid smoke was being inhaled into her lungs from the tiny little glass pipe. When her lungs felt like they couldn't expand any further she pulled her head back and looked at the man with wide eyes.

"Hold it, long as you can, until you bout to pass out," he instructed further.

Amanda had always been the kind of smoker whether it was pot or cigarettes, to hold it in for maximum effect. Apparently, it wasn't necessary according to some of her friends, but she did it anyways because she liked the way that it felt. Being encouraged to hold it in until she felt like she was going to pass out was going to be no problem. The high had already began to hit her, even before she had exhaled. The same full-body high and surge of energy from cocaine was there but it seemed even more pronounced with crack.

By the time she felt she could hold her breath no more, it felt like tremors of pleasure were racing up and down her extremities. Finally, Amanda pursed her lips and exhaled forcefully, a thin stream of smoke being expelled over the course of several seconds. Then it really hit her. She didn't even want to move, despite feeling like she could do anything.

"Yeah, yeah, that's that shit, you know!" the man commented loudly, laughing to himself.

She wanted more. Coke was amazing, but this was incredible. She wanted to feel like this every single day for the rest of her life.

"Can I do another hit?" she asked.

The man smirked at her, giving her a sort-of sidelong glance like he was appraising her.

"First one's free little girl, but after that I gotta get a little sum-sum, you know?" he explained.

Amanda didn't so much as hesitate before spreading her knees apart to reveal that she was panty-less under her short denim skirt. If the homeless man had anticipated his luck, his face did not reveal it. He seemed like he had suddenly stared into the pearly gates of Heaven as he stared at the smooth slit of her cunt.

"You suck cock, too?" he eyed her.

Amanda didn't bother with a verbal response, instead getting on her knees in the dirty alley and arching her back up in anticipation. The man wasted no time, yanking down his soiled pants and revealing his bare cock. Amanda marveled at how big it was, even mostly flaccid it hung down like the trunk of an elephant between the man's gangly legs. His pubic hair was overgrown and salt-and-pepper shaded, but overall, for a homeless crack head he didn't look obviously diseased.

The smell, however, was quite overpowering. Stale piss and the sour smell of body odor wafted from the man's genitals in waves, but the crack high was helping to numb any sensation that wasn't pure pleasure. Amanda also got a sick thrill on the wanton depravity of the act, and the fact that she was a beautiful, rich, 18-year-old girl on her knees about to suck off a dirty, homeless man she just met for some crack.

Any of the unpleasantness melted away at these thoughts intertwined with the glorious high of the drugs and Amanda took his thick meat into her mouth. She fought some of her urge to gag at the initial taste but pushed it out of her mind as she worked at getting him hard. Using her hands and her mouth Amanda sucked, slurped, and stroked the man to his full, rigid size which must have been at least 8 or 9 inches. From there she was in her element, taking his full-length down her throat with relative ease--her experience in sucking cock taking over.

"Damn girl, you a nasty white bitch," the man commented as he watched Amanda gag and slobber all over his tool.

Amanda just murmured in the affirmative without removing the man's meat from her throat and continued using her skill to work him over. She bobbed her head back and forth, letting his thick cock slide down her throat and tease her gag reflex momentarily before retreating. Globs of saliva began accumulating at the sides of her mouth as the occasional soft gag sent her salivary glands into overdrive.

For his part the homeless man was working his hips in tandem with her movements, eventually bringing his hands up to her head just behind her ears on both sides. He wasn't forceful but encouraged a steady rhythm through guiding pushes and pulls, matching the pace and momentum of his hips and her undulations. Amanda had begun to rub her clit as she sucked him off and her pussy cried out to be used next.

"Fuck baby, I ain't gon' last long I better get some of that pussy," he said shakily, clearly not anticipated getting worked over so well by this young, innocent looking teen.

She let the man's thick cock slip from her lips and stayed on her knees, turning her back to him and placing her hands on the grimy concrete with her ass jutting out. The homeless man joined her on the ground, kneeling and positioning his prick between the glistening pink folds of Amanda's pussy while she trembled in anticipation on all fours. As his length sunk in, she couldn't help but release an audible moan of pleasure at suddenly being filled, her cunt stretching to accommodate his size.

It both hurt and felt amazing and was only heightened by the buzzing electricity that reverberated throughout her body from the crack that she was already beginning to crave again.

"Damn girl, you got that tight pussy," the man grunted from behind her as he began thrusting.

Her pussy probably felt like a vise to the man who likely hadn't gotten his dick wet for years and even then, probably had to take what scraps he could find on the street. To be fucking a tight, young 18-year-old cunt like Amanda's would have been an entirely different experience. She relished the thought of being fucked bareback by a homeless crackhead on the concrete of a dirty alleyway, a string of adjectives that sounded insane even in her head. It was so perverse and so reckless, and she couldn't wait to tell it all to her daddy.

The pain of her knees on the concrete as she was pounded reminded her constantly of how degenerate she was being, and each time that it could be a distraction it ended up being an enhancement. The slaps of the man crashing into her reverberated off the concrete surfaces and combined with her soft moans and shrieks to create a cacophony of passion entirely at odds with their meager surroundings. She imagined fucking more homeless vagrants and even pretending to pass out after getting high in one of the camps in the park waiting to be gangraped and it pushed her into another level of heightened pleasure.

She wondered how seriously her father had been the previous night about her becoming a depraved slut because at this point she was going to continue for her own satisfaction regardless. She hoped he would pay her for abortions and not mind if and when the impacts of all her hard living began to ebb away at the pristine youthful appearance she currently enjoyed. As her ass took a hard slap from the man, she began fantasizing about smoking crack for the rest of the evening and giving her daddy sloppy seconds.

"Fuck honey, I'm gonna give you a black baby if you don't stop me," he half-cautioned.

Amanda doubted he would stop if she told him to, and actually wanted to see if he would intentionally inseminate her against her will as an added thrill.

"I'm not on birth control, don't cum inside me, please," she lied.

She hoped he would ignore her and pin her down, shooting his load into her. She worried he was going to pull out as his grip loosened on her hips for a moment but was relieved when she felt his hands grip even tighter.

"Too late bitch, this my pussy now," he stated.

"Please, I can't get pregnant, stop," she pleaded, laying it on thick despite her true desires.

"Shut up ho," he replied, picking up his pace and grabbing her hair roughly.

Amanda almost wished she could cry on command but was too wrapped up in how amazing it felt to be getting raped and how close she was to climax. The man yanked on her head with his handful of hair, and she struggled against him enough to feel like she was being forcefully and involuntarily fucked but not enough to really interrupt the moment. She wanted to get raped and used, and the frail man likely wouldn't be able to really stop her if she fought too hard.

This only gave further thought to seeking out stronger and more able-bodied men who would be able to really rape her like she wanted. She wanted to feel like helpless fuckmeat who didn't matter beyond her ability to drain a cock. The idea thrilled her so much that the climax that had been building reached a crescendo. Her orgasm exploded from her clit to every corner of her body and combined with the crack high, reached unparallel heights of pleasure.

"Aaarrgghh," the man groaned uninhibitedly.

Sometimes she couldn't really feel when a man ejaculated inside of her, but this time there was no mistaking it. She felt his cock surge and pulse as it blasted his seed into her womb, and the cum that began to accumulate inside of her seemed to expand and spread--feeling like a warmth that crashed through her canal until it overflowed. He had been holding this one a long time and it resulted in one of the largest loads of semen she ever taken.

"You gonna take all this cum," he said through gritted teeth.

He clamped his hands down with surprising strength on her hips as he planted the head of his cock as deeply as it would go and blasted away. He groaned loudly with each ejaculation, making it clear to anyone in earshot what was happening in this alleyway. Waves of pleasure were still washing over Amanda as well, her orgasm having the kind of longevity that only came from being enhanced by illicit substances. Finally it was over, and the groaning and cumming drew to a close.

The man let his spent cock slip from her leaking slit as Amanda felt a surge of nausea overcome her.

"I don't feel well," she managed to get out before she puked.

"Yeah, that's the rock. You get used to it, it ain't nothin," he explained as she continued emptying her stomach out on the concrete.

All in all, it was a few moments of discomfort in exchange for the greatest high she had ever experienced. If it made her sick, it really didn't seem like much of a detractor. She would just have to remember not to have a full belly next time.

"Here, you earned it honey," the man said as he set the pipe on the bucket with a bag filled with a couple of light brown rocks in it.

Amanda wiped her face with the back of her hand and grabbed the pipe, looking at it closer. The blackened end had a bit of bronze gauze stuffed into it, probably to act as a filter of sorts. There was a small space before the gauze at the end, which Amanda predicted was where the 'rock' went while you were smoking it. It all seemed pretty straight-forward.

"You want more, come find me at the park, ask for Clyde," he said as he stood up and adjusted his pants.

He didn't say anything else before he walked off down the alley and disappeared.

Amanda climbed back up to her feet and lit herself another cigarette, anxious to get the taste of vomit out of her mouth and needing another one after getting railed. She stood in the alley and smoked her cigarette with deep pulls, standing with her legs apart to let the cum drip out of her onto the ground.

She shimmied her hips a little bit to dislodge any of the globs that were hanging on the outside and then pulled her skirt back down. Any part of his massive load that remained inside her was just going to make her daddy happy to enjoy when she got home. She took a final pull on her cigarette and exhaled a stream of smoke up into the sky, flicking her cigarette onto the ground. She tucked her new pipe and bag of crack into her bra with her pack of smokes, as her slutty skirt had no pockets.

With her ample bosom it was never going to be noticeable, and even if it were, it would never command the type of attention that her tits were going to get anyways. She walked back in and finished her shift, catching a tirade from Carole about her 18-minute 'smoke break.' Besides getting money for weed and alcohol, she didn't really give a shit about her job anymore. She would fuck who she needed to fuck to get what she wanted, and she also knew that her daddy would give her whatever she wanted if she asked.

Still, she wasn't quite ready to burn this bridge. She had been working at the bowling alley since she was 15 and it was a consistent and comfortable routine. She finished her shift and drove to the gas station, buying a couple torch lighters like the one Clyde had and two packs of cigarettes. She thought about buying some snacks but remembered puking her guts out in the alley and thought better of it. Is that why crackheads are always so skinny? She pushed it out of her mind and jumped back into her car.

Rather than driving home, Amanda decided that she really didn't want to wait. She reached between her tits and grabbed the pipe and baggy and began the preparations. She pinched a bit of the crack rock and placed it gingerly at the tip of the pipe. She held the pipe at an angle so the contents wouldn't fall out and brought the other end up to her lips. She had to lean down in her seat so there was enough space between the end of the pipe and the roof of the car to avoid lighting the headliner on fire, but she managed it.