Among the Living by Timothy Long Read Free Book Online Page A

with no power, that plan fell apart just like pretty much everything else. He may be a drug dealer, but he hates dirty clothes. He stares down at his own shorts, which he has worn for several days, and grimaces. If the power doesn’t come back soon, he plans to fill the tub with water and wash their clothes by hand and then hang them up in the house like they are trailer trash.
    Angela drops her new purse on the dresser, then shrugs out of the tatters of her dress and stands gloriously naked in the center of the room. Lester’s eyes are hungry as they rove over her body from calves to round hips, over her full breasts with pencil eraser nipples to her pert face with its sprinkle of freckles. Though she likes to bleach her hair blond, it is a shade of light brown that shows at her roots. She doesn’t have to worry about the rug matching the curtains, because she is smooth as a baby down there. Hardwood floors all the way, baby.
    Lester slips behind her and runs his hands up her stomach to cup one high breast. The bubble of her implant is detectable, but he ignores it and rubs her nipple between thumb and forefinger until it grows hard as a little pebble.
    She sucks in a breath and leans back into him, her hand going down to cup his balls in his shorts. If he weren’t hard as a rock already, that would have done the trick. He loves seeing her naked. He has pictures on the computer, posed, candid, some taken in secret. When she runs off to her part-time job, he likes to go through them while waxing poetic with his cock.
    “Oh wait.” She giggles and dives across the bed. Their pipe is on the nightstand on her side of the bed. She picks it up and loads a fresh green bud from a baggie. Lester wriggle out of his shorts and climbs onto the bed as she lights up. He straddles her legs so he can caress her ass with both hands. He wants to dive between her legs, but he will be patient, wait until they are both good and high.
    She coughs out a stream of smoke and hands the pipe up. He takes a deep hit and then passes it back while his other hand moves across her lower back, ass, and the top of her thighs. She parts her legs just enough for him to slip his hand through so he can finger her.
    She takes another hit and holds it as long as she can before exhaling the smoke in a long, lazy stream. She sighs as he plays with her sex.
    “Go down on me!” she begs, and Lester thinks that is a pretty fucking good idea, so he slides off her and hits the pipe one more time. She rolls over and parts her long legs. His eyelids grow heavy as the pot kicks in. His heart beats faster, but that may be because he is about to get laid. His ears ring, and sounds warble in and out of his brain.
    He sighs and sinks his head between her thighs and smells HER over the burning smell of pot on his breath. She giggles as his goatee rubs against her thighs, then her hands are in his hair and she is pulling his face down to grind into her.
     
    * * *
     
    “I love fucking when we’re high.” Angela stares at the ceiling. She cups his now-flaccid cock, stroking it gently while she waits for it to wake up again. She feels content and warm all over. Her sex is still throbbing, wanting him to sink into her again. She has always had this need for more and better sex, and Lester fills it pretty well. Other lovers have tried, and failed. Of course none of them had access to the drugs that Lester does.
    She grabs a bottle of fruit-flavored rum from the side of the bed and takes a swig. The liquor burns its way down her throat in a line of fire that erupts in her belly. She grimaces but swallows another shot of the coconut-flavored fire.
    “Goddamn, that is good.” She exhales. She hands the bottle to Lester and waits for the booze to mix with the weed. It feels like the room is pulsing around her, and she has the sudden urge to crank up some music and dance naked for him.
    She struggles to her feet and stands over his waist, legs parted so he can gaze up at her.