The Lusty Les-Been

I take a deep drag of my cigarette, letting the minty sensations flow down my throat to linger in my lungs. A vain attempt to fight against the pain surging from my possibly broken fingers.

"I'm so sorry Geoff." Laura says as she hurriedly places a large bag of ice onto my purpling protruding pointables.

I hold back a screaming "FUCK!" by gritting my teeth, and stamping my right leg sharply against the porch deck.

"Sorry, sorry." Laura continues to chant, "I know Sheila didn't mean to drop that tool box on your hand."

Laura always seems to want to defend Sheila, Laura's "Boyfriend," "Girlfriend," "Whatever Person."

I take another deep drag from my cigarette. "Ya'll are trying to kill me." I reply with a mocking chuckle. Actually the combination of the cold ice pack and chilling nicotine begins to sooth my throbbing digits.

"I'm sorry." Laura says again.

"Its okay," I reply.

At Least I got Sheila's car fixed, and she can get that mythical job we've been hearing so much about for the last year."

Sheila and Laura moved in with me a few years ago, and they seemed to be at the time good roommates. Since I lost my high paying factory job, I was forced to work at a local dinner or lose my house, I became in need for financial help. So in exchange for living freedom, I took them in as roommates...it was a good tradeoff...at the time.

"I'm sure she will." Laura says with a bit more optimism in her voice, than in her expression.

"I sure do hope so." I say releasing a breath full of smoke, through clench teeth as Laura lifts up the ice pack to examine the swelling, placing it under my palm.

I try and clamp my injured hand down on the ice pack and find it unresponsive, so I pull the pack from Laura's protesting hand.

"Where are you going?" Laura asks as I turn away from her walk to the front screen door.

"Alcohol." I say, carefully pulling at the little u-shaped handle with my pinky, while trying not to drop or butt out my cigarette.

"You know she can't stand the smell of cigarettes in the house." Laura calls after me as walk into the kitchen and lay my smoking stick on the rock countertop.

I scoff.

To be honest I could care less what Shelia can't stand at the moment.

I walk in to the kitchen, and grab a near empty bottle of Fireball. I try to unscrew the top. one handed by pressing it against my stomach.

And sure as hell is hot

It slips across my side and shatters on the tile floor. I curse as the precious liquid spills out onto the floor, and my nostrils fill with that savory cinnamon scent.

"Dammit." I say closing my eyes resting my head against the cool cabinet door, my head beginning to throb.

I hear the screen door creak as Laura opens it, and two thumps from the utility door as she pulls out a broom and dust pan.

"Thank you." I say rolling my hips across the edge of the cabinet, shifting out of the way of the approaching bristles of the broom.

"Its okay, Geoff." Laura says kneeling down before me to sweep up the glass into the dust pan. Pain shot into me again, but this time not from my hand...but a bit further south.

Laura has on a loose button up shirt which is a few sizes too big, so when she bends over her plump tits display themselves in full view.

She often doesn't wear a bra around the house, much to my cocks discomfort.

The hungry pull of my groin travels up my neck causing it to tickle. I writhe my neck to fight the sensation, and turn away from her to hide my growing arousal.

"You need to put on a bra." I blurt out, not thinking, and I instantly hear the brushing sounds stop as my ears begin to burn in embarrassment.

"I didn't realize I was showing so much, I'm sorry." Laura says buttoning up the rest of her shirt.

I replace the cigarette back into my mouth. "Don't be...it's my fault for looking." I say as I try and open the fridge for a beer. I find my new twelve pack of beer empty. A twinge of anger shoots through me as the fridge door bumps my bad hand, and in a fit of rage, I grab the empty box and violently toss it across the room.

"I just!" I growl, but I stop myself and try and calm down.

"I didn't realize those were yours... Sheila drank that pack last night." Laura says defensively a little taken aback at my outburst.

"I NEED!" I roar stop myself again and began to tear up as my fingers throb. I fight it, and turn away from her, before saying more quietly. "Something... to drink."

I hear the tight material between Laura's thighs rustle and I have to stretch out the sensations in my neck again.

"I have some Apple pie moonshine...if that will help." Laura says stepping on the trash can opener and dumping the contents of the dust pan inside.

"That...that would be wonderful." I say tossing down a kitchen towel onto the remnants of moisture on the floor.

I take one last puff as the flames lick into the filter and I put it out on the edge of the sink. Laura falls to her knees, and reaches under the sink searching for something. After a quick hunt she pulls out an unopened bottle of Arkansas Apple Pie Lightning. My mouth waters and my body growls for the taste of the painkiller. Laura raises up off the floor, her ass pops as she straightens out her back, and pulls out a two glasses. One shot glass and a very tall glass.

For me I assume.

"Sit down, and try this." Laura says pointing to the couch as she began pouring liquid relaxation into the cup.

I sit down with a grimace as I replace the ice bag to the top of my hand. Laura waits until I settle into the couch comfortably before handing me the liquor. She hands me the large cup and I drain it in two guzzles.

"Shit, hurting that bad?" Laura says filling the cup up again.

I nod and drain it again, but this time my mouth burns a bit, and I have to blow out some air to cool the sides of my mouth. My eyes begin to feel heavy as the warming sensations quickly fill my gut.

"That's some good stuff." I say through closed eyes. "Thank you."

"I'm glad you like it." Laura replies tipping the glass again into my cup. "My mother bought it for my birthday last month."

"Shit, I shouldn't be drinking this." I say now feeling bad for drinking up her present. "I'll buy you another."

"Its okay." Laura says pouring herself another shot. "You needed this more than I probably ever would."

I drain another, and she again fills it up to the top this time, but I find my body isn't willing to consume it all at once this time.

"You seemed sad today." Laura says observing my usual defensive coating melting away with the alcohol.

"Well...I hurt my hand." I manage to bumble out.

"No, not your hand, your heart." she says pressing me again.

I laugh. "What are you getting at?"

"What happened with Paige?" She asks. Laura asks just the right question to cause my chest to tighten.

"Who?" I ask trying to play coy, which doesn't seem to hide much when your drunk.

"Paige... your girlfriend." laura continues.

"I don't know, haven't..." I hiccup. "Haven't talked with her in almost a year or so."

The room was silent, for some reason and it began to stretch on too long.

"Little more?" I ask tipping my empty glass her way. She smiles and pours a bit more into my glass until it caresses the bottom of the bottle and she stops, and pours herself one more shot.

"When's the last time you...?" Laura began to ask but stops short.

"Hmm?" I ask my eyes now closed my mind starting to drift.

"The last time you've been on a date?" Laura asks finally.

My eyes remain closed and I shrug. "Maybe a year or so ago."

"What!" she says sounding amazed. "Why?"

"I don't know, most women feel threatened I guess." I mumble out.

"You don't seem threatening, you've always been sweet to us." she replies.

I down the last of the lightning and drop the empty glass into my lap. "Not of me, of ya'll."

Laura laughs for a second then falls quiet. "What do you mean?"

"Well I'm a man...with no car, working at a dinner for chump change while living with two women." I laugh. "People probably think I'm a bum, le a drug dealer, since Sheila doesn't work and you have a part time gig as an entertainer...I guess they think I'm..."

"Fucking us." She says her vocal sounding emotions unreadable.

I shrug again.

"Perhaps." I laugh studying the empty glass my eyesight blurring more dangerously. "I'm not that kind of man."

"I know." Laura says.

"Maybe I should be... be a different person." I say rotating the glass in my right hand.

"No, you are a good guy." laura protests. standing up to hand me another cigarette and placing it in my mouth.

"Thank you." I say through the gap of my lips as she lights it up.

I take another deep drag and the couch seems to swell up around me, cradling me.

"I... would... love to take you to bed..." I say eyes closing sleep threatening to take me. "perhaps... if she comes back without a job... you could pay... some other way."

There is a silence.

"With some head?" I hear a distant voice ask.

"hmm."

"With some pussy?"

I groan, as my cock stirs.

I drift in the void for a few seconds and feel lips against my ear say. "Maybe I will."

I wake up.

It's dark outside.

Loud voices itch my ears, stirring me further from sleep's embrace.

I try and lift myself from the bed, but find I'm much too heavy. so I just lay back and try to listen. I begin to make out Sheila's voice, and she seems to be shouting as per usual. Only this time Laura is screaming back at her; making Sheila's voice reach even higher decibels.

Then I hear something that wakes me up instantly, I hear Shelia's meaty fist strike Laura. My blood pressure rises, the pain in my hand causes my eyes to go squishy, as I try with all my might to lift my dead drunk lunk off the mattress. I hear more flesh to flesh contact, and a shattering glass followed by a thud that shakes the floor.

I raise completely off the mattress, and open my bedside table and pull out my grandfathers revolver. I hear Laura sobs fall silent. I wobble to the door and pull it open with the sole of my foot.

"HEY BITCH!" I shout down the hall at Sheila. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

Sheila does exactly what I thought she would, and storms down the hall towards me ready for a fight, but stops dead as she sees the revolver pointing at her.

I cock the hammer. "What did I say, cunt!" I state more than ask, sounding much calmer and more sober than I felt.

She slowly retreats back out of the house, and I hear the slam of the screen door as she left. I uncock the hammer, slide it onto my pants pocket, and stumble down the hall toward Laura's room.

As I round the corner I see her, she seems to have fallen into the center of her glass coffee table. The left side of her face is as purple as my hand, and her shirt which I had found sexy, is now completely torn revealing her bruised breasts. They don't seem to be as arousing now, since they have glass all over them, and blood streaks from her lip and eye covering them.

"Shit." I swear as I stumble into the room. "What the fuck Laura?"

She didn't respond...the hell. I wobble over to her with my head swimming, I begin to search her body for puncture wounds. After a quick search, thankfully I find only find surface scratches.

I gently start clearing the broken glass out from around her, and once done, I pull a blanket from her lounge chair. I tuck it around her the best I could, and with my buggered up hand, I begin to pull her free.

I wrap my bad hand around her neck and fight back cascading nausea. Even in my drunkenness I am somehow able to lift her hundred forty pounds. I manage to lay her down as easily as my drunk self could muster. I slowly make my way to the front door using my shoulder against the wall as support, my wobbly legs needing extra support.

Once there, I see Sheila left her keys on the counter. I pick them up and struggle with the clip, in an attempt to remove the house key. I wrestle it free before I deposit it into the drawer with the knives, and stumble to the front door; that Sheila left hanging wide open.

I open the screen door and toss out Sheila's keys. I watch them as they soar out into the darkness.

I shut the door and lock it. I also take the time to secure the door, further its stability with a metal door brace. I turn back to the kitchen, my vision swims again uncontrollably, and I fall to my knees. I bend over clutching my bad hand to my chest and using my other to hold myself up.

In a moment or two I gather the strength to climb up onto my feet. I reach the sink and hold onto it for dear life as I began to ride another wave. I look up at the mirrored backsplash and see my eyes rolling in my head.

I decide to put a couple fingers down my throat, to force out some of the liquor from stomach. My stomach convulses a few times, refusing to relinquish the lightning, but I continue to push my persuasion. After a few thunderous lurches, the lightning zaps the bottom of the sink, striking the same spot more than twice.

A few painful seconds of being a human faucet, and then relief. I kick on the water to wash away the sick, and shovel some of the water from the flow into my mouth to rinse out any remnant of foul flavor.

I wash my hands, wring them off on my clothes. I open the cabinet above the sink, to retrieve some rubbing alcohol, cotton balls and Bactine spray.

I walk to Laura's room and see her eye and lip still bleeding. I grab a couple of cotton balls and cover the head of the bottle, before tossing it to the side and then back to soak the cotton.

I dab at the wounds and it slowly washes the blood away. The more I dab the wound the less the blood flow would erupt, until It finally stops altogether. I re-dip the fresh cotton and clean the rest of her face.

Once I finish cleaning, I spray the cotton with the Bactine and apply it to the gashes above her eye and her lip. Now satisfied with the cleaning I stood up and position myself on the opposite side the bed. I roll the blankets ends a few times and grib the blanket, and use it as a makeshift stretcher.

Once she is laying in the middle of the bed I roll her off the blanket and unbutton her blouse, blood had now soaked through the shirt and her pants. I start to wriggle her out of her blouse, causing her tits to shake and bounce, stirring up my hunger again until her shoulders gave up the fight. I am able to pull the shirt free.

Now that her shirt is off I can work on extracting her from her pants. I grab the lip of cotton just above her paints button and give it a quick pull. It easily comes free, but exposes her tangles underneath. I tug at the feet of her pants until her vagina is showing.

Its light pink, lighter than her olive skin and is sporting a rather large clit...I mean it is the size of my thumb big. I wait for a few seconds to clear my head, the temptation to touch her becoming harder. once it passes I pull the pants the rest of the way, until they're completely free of her.

My mind shot out a thought, across the bow about taking her clit into my mouth and then fucking her. I allow the disgusting thought to splash and sink in the sea.

I drop the clothes in the waste paper basket and go into her bathroom, in search for a rag to wet and some bandages. I rummage around the rat's nest of haircare and beauty items until I find a clean rag and some small bandaids. I return, and she has curled up into a ball. I roll her over returning her to her previous position and she groans in protest.

I laugh off my stress for her well being. I slowly wash off her battered body, the clean skin slowly reveals small chill bumps which began to arouse me but I shake my head to toss away those thoughts. I clean her hips, belly, and her breasts. When I clean the specks of glass and blood free of them, her nipples slowly stand to attention and she moans groggily.

"God...help me." I mumble as I wipe the last of the crimson free of her flesh. I grab the Bactine bottle again and spritz her chest and belly before covering her up with a extra blanket from the window seat. As soon as the material lay upon her, she snuggles it and turns again to her side. I place a pillow against her back to keep her warm before I walk out of her room.

I spot myself in her mirror on the way out. I notice all the blood covering my arms, face, clothes, the bulge from the 38...and the other gun. I look like I am survivor from a horror movie.

I make my way to the bathroom and pull off my shirt, dropping it on the floor, and then shaking off my pants. I leave them against the bathroom wall. I start a bath, feeling as though my body would be too exhausted to stand for a shower. I cup my hand under the faucet, waiting for the cold water to grow warm. I drop in the stopper, and slide myself into its warm loving embrace.

I watch the water lap around my nakedness. The crimson liquid slowly leaches into the clean pure water threatening to taint it. My hips fall below the waterline, I turn the water off, and close my eyes.

A knock at the door startles me, and I shiver in cold water.

"Geoff, you okay?" Laura asks from the other side of the door.

I make a move to sit up, my body now sore and pruny from the water, and grab for a towel but can't seem to reach it.

"Yeah...I fell asleep in the tub." I reply as she opens the door. "Wait I'm not decent."

she continues through the door despite my protests and walks in completely nude.

"Its okay." she says. "I can't see your pruny dick anyway."

She doesn't seem to be lying either, both her eyes are swollen up like a Kingyo fish, and her upper lip looks like she took way too many shots of collagen.

"Damn Laura." I say concern etchings my words. "You need me to take you to the hospital?"

She stumbles around looking for the toilet and then finds it and sits down before letting out a vast amount of piss and a sigh. She leans against the wall while the last remnant of liquid leaves her body. "No."

"I did the best I could." I say apologetically. "I was just too drunk to do much else."

"I know you did Geoff." Laura sobs tears somehow squeezing their way from her swollen eyes.

"What...what happened?" I ask resting my good hand on her knee, she takes it into her hand and grips it.

"Sheila... wasn't going to get a job." Laura chokes out. "She was going to see someone else."

"Wow that's mind blowing Laura." I say incredulously. Even now, she is all beaten and bruised she looks sexy as hell...why would anyone cheat on her.

"Why?" Is the only thing I could think to say or ask.

Laura shrugs, removes her hand from mine, and gently wipes her swollen eyes free of tears.

"You are kind, smart, and... sexy." I say and she scoffs at the last statement. "No really I know that...and can see the latter."

"Oh get out of the tub and go dry off you perv." She laughs. I shakily get out of the cold water. A shiver bites me as the air assaults my pruny, wet skin.

I go to grab a towel near the end of the counter and go into the hall. Letting the bathroom door close behind me. I use the towel to shew away the cold with an armada of dry cotton.

Once I'm dry I open the closet and pull out a shirt. As I do, I hear Laura get up from the toilet. The seat has a tendency to stick to the users bum if you sit on it too long, and hear it drop down loudly.

I grab one of her shirts and a pair of her pajamas. The toilet flushes and I hear her fumbling with the shower curtain.

"You need help." I ask. Not sure if I am welcome to come back into the room to see her nakedness.

There is a pause.

"Yes... I need help."

I reopen the door, and I see her on her knees. Her tits sway, as she blindly reaches for the water drain, which still holds back all the water.

I forgot to let out.

I place our clothes on the counter, and rest my good hand on her hip to indicate.