She didn't call me. I had to call her. After all, it was her fault for leaving me hanging around that red neck bar with all the great minds of the world. She was cheerful enough on the phone and when I went over to meet her at the apartment she acted like she usually did. But once we got to the bed room I asked her the leading question.
"Hey......why didn't you return to that bar like you said you would?"
Dead silence....then, "I started partying at that house and lost track of the time. I went to the bar later on but you were gone."
"I am also wondering why you didn't call me to explain. That's not like you."
"I couldn't help myself," she explained. "You know sometimes you are in the wrong and you just don't want to admit it. I was a little ashamed of calling you so I didn't."
"Jan, remember that first time we went out and you made this toast to a long lasting business relationship between us. It's not going to work unless we are perfectly honest with each other. If you feel you ever make a mistake, I want you to tell me. It is much better if we play with a level deck."
"You are right but sometimes it is hard for me."
The idea suddenly hit me. "Look Jan. I am not someone who's going to bite your head off. And I really like you and don't want anything to come between us like a crazy misunderstanding. Now if we reran this whole thing and had to do it over again how could we have done it better so we would have ended up together instead of apart?"
"We would never have let each other out of the other's sight. I should have taken you with me to that house."
"That would have probably worked," I agreed. Next time we will just have to do that."
"I feel like partying tonight. So instead of your going home why don't we just go out together," Jan suggested with a foxy smile.
I had the little Miata sports car's top down and we headed out to a place close to that bar out on South Grand.
"Must be her old neighborhood," I thought. Then she had me drive around the block, then the block past that block, as her eyes took in the cars parked in the neighborhood. Finally we pulled up to a little house. Jan knocked on the door. We heard someone come down the stairs, then the door was opened by a tall black woman in her late twenties or early thirties.
"Hi Gwenn. This is my friend Jack. He brought me here in that little sportscar over there," Jan said while pointing proudly at the little two seater. "Have you seen Joe around."
"Not since the other day. You think he's followed you again, girl?"
"I wouldn't bet that he didn't, Jan laughed. "You know how he is, always checking up on me."
"Come on in then. And Jack, if you are a friend of Jan's you are a friend of mine."
We went up a narrow staircase. The small apartment upstairs opened up into a living room. I could see a little kitchen behind it and knew the bathroom was just across the hall from it. The two women disappeared immediately into the bathroom and came out ten minutes later. Joining me on the couch behind the coffee table Jan laid the little stash of crack on the table right in front of me. It was the first time I had ever seen crack. She had just bought a rock which was a little white ball of the stuff.
I never tried it and never will and I was soon to hate the sight of it or the mere mention of the drug's name. C-R-A-C-K. The word sounds harsh like a high powered rifle bullet crashing out of a muzzle close to one's head. I was soon to learn that it made a high powered rifle seem about as dangerous as a child's toy. Jan dived right into it like a greedy child, first pulling out her little tin pipe, then a small rod that would fit the pipe.
"Have to try it first to see if it's any good," Jan cried out gleefully. Then she started stuffing the little polished tube with the stuff. Finally...satisfied with the now primed pipe she started to smoke it. Her face soon took on a far away look as Gwenn started playing records for me.
"What do you think of this one?" Glenn asked. I really like it. I want you to listen to the words very carefully now." She wasn't that bad looking but I really wasn't interested in staying or what Jan was doing with her newly found treasure. I had a motel on my mind and knew exactly where I would take her. Meanwhile Gwenn played three or four selections from several albums, asking me each time what I thought of her latest favorite.
Finally----at last------Jan was ready to leave. We picked up two six packs of beer and a few wine coolers at a gas station close to the motel, then checked in. One thing I liked about Jan......there was no beating around the bush with her and that night was no different than any other. She had her clothes off within two minutes of our walking through the motel room's door. I grabbed her a wine cooler and popped a beer for myself. But the crack pipe was what she really wanted.
We sat on the bed side by side as she once again charged the pipe, then started to smoke it. "I have never fucked a girl on that crap so this is a first," I said to myself, as Jan's face took on a very strange look and she became someone else. And that's the way I had her, right then, while she was someone else.
But Jan's lust was insatiable. Not for me but for that crack pipe. She kept charging it over and over again, each time she started to come down from her high which didn't seem to last more than fifteen or twenty minutes. "Total insanity," I told myself, "as the two of us walked up to the mirror across from the bed.
Back then I must have been almost insane as Jan and the girls like her. After all, it was my lust that was digging deep into my pockets. But that night was the first time I saw her in action or shall I call it more appropriately inaction. Both of us were naked as we walked hand in hand to that mirror but now that I think about it my hand was not what she held in her hand. It was my dick.
She stood in front of that mirror like a statue as she held her hands up to her face. Then she grabbed me again with one hand and started squeezing. She kept looking at her face which I can only describe as the face of another being...her eyes having this strange look about them. Even her hair looked different. Then she started doing what I would later call her dance which was merely a shifting from one foot to another combined with a slight swaying of her hips.
It was not sexy at all. The position of her stance did not show her body off that well, her face had this funny look to it, and her eyes kept staring at her reflection in the mirror as she stared uncomprehendingly at her image as if she was amazed it was really her. One might even say she was judging her appearance to see how it could be improved and for that I have one answer. DON'T SMOKE CRACK. But a woman gazing at herself in the mirror in judgment of her appearance was not in Jan that night. Her expression was not analytical but one of total incomprehension like that of a baby coming out of its mother's womb.
But the one thing we had doing was that my dick was still in her hands. There was only one thing wrong with this little scenario and that is she wasn't rubbing it to get it hard or to get me more aroused. Her hand kept squeezing or pulling spasmodically making me almost pull away out of fear of her pulling it out by its roots. But there is something to be said about the moth flying to the flame even though it might be consumed in the fire. It is exciting and the prospect of getting it on with her again, then hopefully still another time or two was what I was after in the first place.
Finally she said to me.........."I need a lighter." So I got a lighter. Then she said------"Light it please." Which I did after which she said, "put it in front of us and hold it there. I can't stand the darkness. Must have light." And we must have had all the lights on in that motel room. Now this situation was making more and more sense to me, with Jan still looking at herself in that mirror, as she swayed slowly back and forth from one foot to the other, with my dick in her hand, as she proceeded to almost rip it off, while she stood afraid of the dark in a well lit room as I held a lighter in front of us."
She kept going back to that crack pipe until she ran out. Then she finally said: "We can party here all night, but I'm going to need more dope." It must have been three in the morning but I hadn't had my fill of her yet and she sure was greedy for more crack. So we went back to Gwenn's apartment over on the St Louis side. Gwenn invited us upstairs once more, called someone up on the phone and fifteen or twenty minutes later we were back in the Miata back to the East side motel. Where we repeated the little Jan dance, the mirror scene, the nearly ripping my dick off adventure sports series, the lighter act, and a little more bedroom activity.
Once again she ran out of Crack. One thing I was to learn more and more about Jan and that was she was a glutton towards just about anything she could consume whether it be Crack, pot, food, or Tequila. Her main goal seemed to always be stuff oneself as fast as possible, get obliviously drunk, hopefully in the first half hour, or keep that Crack pipe burning red hot at all times. By the time we left that motel it was past eight in the morning. She didn't want to go back to the apartment, instead insisting I take her back to Gwenn's. For all I know she did more crack there and might have stayed up through the next night, but it really didn't matter. I had to get back to the farm, sixty-five miles away, and like many nights before kept fighting lack of sleep, as I came close to driving off the road at least a half dozen times.
Back to Whoring in the Metro East
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