by Lankford, Terrill Lee; Raphael, Lev; Parker, T. Jefferson
I lit my cigarette and watched from a distance as Candice prepped and dried the coke-ether-ammonia mixture. After a few minutes of diligent chemistry, Candice loaded up the pipe with hardened coke, then fired it all up with the mini-torch. She took a hit, leaned back, and let the drug take over. A few moments later she exhaled and began twitching from the rush.
"Oh yes," she moaned with pleasure. After a long period of silent reverie, Candice offered the pipe to me.
"I don't base," I said.
"Heeey," Candice squealed. "I thought this was going to be a celebration?"
I got up off the couch and crossed to the small wet bar on the far side of the room.
"It is. I just don't do coke. Haven't in a long time." I poured myself a tall Jack Daniel's and dropped in a few ice cubes from the mini-fridge behind the bar.
"Sort of a personal code, eh?" Candice said.
"You could say that. I had some problems with it a long time ago."
I returned with my drink. Candice began to process some more coke. "Well, if you really want to party with Candy, you've got to do as Candy does."
I sat down on the sofa opposite her.
"Why?"
"So I don't feel like I'm doing anything wrong."
"It's nothing personal. I just don't do coke."
"You just supply it, right?" An edge of bitterness was creeping into her voice.
"Look, you asked for the stuff. I got it for you. What more do you want?"
Candice looked at me for a long, uncomfortable moment.
"Nothing, Nick. You got your blow job. What more do you want?"
I eased back into the sofa, trying to regain my composure.
"I think we're getting off on the wrong foot. I thought we were going to have a nice, low-key evening together. . . ."
"And then at the end of the evening you planned on fucking my brains out. Or did I read you wrong?" Candice fired up the pipe.
I stared at her for a bit before responding.
"No. You didn't read me wrong."
Candice took a quick hit and let it wash over her for a few seconds. Then she stood up, wanting to illustrate her moral high ground. She was a little wobbly on her feet.
"Then why wait till the end of the evening?"
She undid her belt and let it drop to the floor. She pulled her shirt over her head, revealing she was totally naked underneath. She wasn't even wearing a G-string. I took it all in, saying nothing. Her body was as beautiful as I had imagined. A perfect female specimen. As long as she wasn't talking. Or freebasing. She was a living, breathing centerfold sans staples. The kind of creature that young boys fantasized about in the privacy of bathrooms and wealthy old men wept over while writing rent checks.
Candice stepped around the table and stood in front of me. She bent forward and took my zipper between her thumb and index finger. She pulled it straight out, then methodically started to pull the zipper down. She went slow this time. Very ritualistic. We had all night.
Candice bent forward and kissed me on the lips. I remained perfectly still, but did nothing to resist her. She worked her lips along my neck, down my chest, pulling open my shirt as she went, over my stomach, then she buried her head in my lap for the second time that night.
I leaned my head back and reveled in the sensation. I shifted and slid my pants down around my ankles. I wanted to be inside her. Candice read my mind. She climbed up onto the couch and lowered herself down onto me, engulfing my cock with her hot flesh. She had trimmed her pubic hair to the bare minimum without actually getting out a razor. There was not a nanosecond of unwanted resistance or entanglement as I slid deep inside her. It was a perfect fit. Condoms were never even mentioned. So much for safe sex.
Candice slowly rocked back and forth, sliding me in and out over and over again. Once she had scoped out the territory and estimated my limitations she picked up the tempo and began pumping away with total precision. She knew to a fraction of an inch just how far she could move without interrupting service. I reached around and grabbed the cheeks of her round ass, kneading them, separating them, squeezing them together, pulling them apart. She was firm, but still fleshy enough to be fun.
We rolled to the floor, never missing a beat. The ocean kept time for us just outside the windows.
Candice seemed to be straining, but not as if she was having a great time. It was more like she was trying to enjoy herself. As if she wasn't getting what she needed out of the experience, but wanted it desperately. She reached under herself, grabbed my balls, and tried to shove them up into her along with my cock. She jerked and jumped as certain spots were touched that gave her pleasure. She grabbed the base of my cock and pulled on it until I came, once again involuntarily, but intensely, inside of her. She leaned forward and took a long breath, then climbed off of me and headed for her pipe again.
She lit the thing and took another drag off it. I'd seen people freebase before, but I'd never seen anyone with this kind of tolerance. Usually a good hit would knock the smoker on his or her ass for twenty minutes or so. Not this one. She had built up an immunity. She'd fade for a couple of minutes after a hit, but she would snap back like nothing had happened soon afterward.
I was still on the floor, exhausted, watching Candice float in the netherworld. I got up, went to the bar, and made another drink. If she was going to be fucked up I wanted a good buzz myself to make it all palatable. I stood at the bar, sipping my drink and watching her naked body sway to the rhythms of the late-night music coming from KTYD, a Santa Barbara radio station that I could just barely receive because of my location on the beach. If I had been a mile inland I wouldn't have been able to pick it up at all. I liked their stuff. The station catered to a college beach town and I found the selections refreshing. A good blend of oldies and new rock with an edge. They had Clapton going and it sounded just right for the moment.
Candice was beginning to drip a little on the couch. It was time to move the action into the bedroom. Or out the front door, whichever she preferred. She cleaned the bowl and began to pack fresh coke into it. I couldn't believe it.
"Haven't you had enough?" I asked.
Candice turned and looked over her shoulder at me seductively. "Enough of what?"
She knew what I meant and I could tell what she meant. I was talking drugs, she was trying to throw me off with more sex. I answered directly anyway.
"Enough coke."
"I never get enough of anything. That's my problem. I'm insatiable."
She fired the pipe and took a small hit. Her eyes were glassy. I brought my drink over and sat down on the couch next to her.
"Mark Pecchia warned me about you," I said.
She looked hurt, as if something dark had suddenly been revealed about her without being actually articulated. She leaned forward so I couldn't watch her face.
"He did?" Her voice cracked a little.
"It wasn't really a warning. He just said that you liked to have a good time."
Candice turned and looked at me. She seemed to regain a bit of confidence and there was spite in her voice.
"Who doesn't?" she asked. It was more of an accusation than a question.
I relaxed into the soft couch and studied Candice's lovely body and ugly addiction. She grabbed a cigarette, got up, walked to the window, and looked out at the moonlit ocean. Her hands vibrated as she fired up the smoke. She looked at me and winced.
"You guys are all the same. You use whatever you can to get what you want and you just don't give a fuck about anything else. You sit there with a drink in one hand and your dick in the other and you think you can judge me, judge my problems."
"I'm not judging you."
"Bullshit! You fuck the hell out of me on the floor of your little beach house in the Boo, then look down on me because I like to party. . . . You didn't even try to make me come!"
I looked at her hard. I didn't know whether I should be angry or embarrassed. I was a little of both.
"I thought you did come,"
I said.
"It'll take more than what you've got to get me off."
I got up and approached her. She was pushing my buttons. "Look, lady, I don't know what kind of trip you're on, but I'm getting pretty sick of your shit. Just what the hell do you want out of me?"
Candice radically softened. She was going through changes quickly. She said, "I want you to reach me." Candice lowered her cigarette and touched it to her skin right above her pubic area. The smell of burnt hair and flesh wafted into the air. I was momentarily stunned, then I reached out and knocked the cigarette out of her hand, onto the floor. I stomped out the butt with my bare foot, burning myself in the process.
"Goddamnit!" I yelled, rubbing the bottom of my foot.
"Like it?" Candice asked.
I was disgusted. I walked away from her.
"I think it's time for you to go home," I said.
"All done with me?"
"Yeah. We're finished."
I tossed Candice her shirt. She made no move to catch it and it fell to the floor.
"I can't go yet."
"I insist."
"Please let me stay with you. Just for tonight."
The girl was totally schizo. I approached her again and looked into her eyes. Her pupils were big and round.
"I'm not into these kinds of games," I said.
"I know lots of others." She bit her bottom lip with imagination suddenly run amok.
"I'm not interested."
She reached out and put her arms around my neck.
"Don't make me go . . . not yet."
She bent her head and nuzzled under my chin so that she didn't have to look at me directly. She was about to beg and what little dignity she had left resisted eye contact.
"I could do things for you, Nick. Things your other girls won't do."
"Like drive me crazy?"
"Whatever you want, I'll do. However you want me, I'll be. Use me up, Nick. Use me all night long."
Her left hand trailed down my body, searching. When she found what she wanted she squeezed it gently. I began to get hard again.
"I belong to you tonight," she continued. "I'm your property. Fuck me. Kill me. . . . "
"Just don't make you write bad checks, right?"
"Just don't send me away."
She moaned and began moving her hand gently, rhythmically. I was torn between the reality that this woman was nuts and the fact that my cock was hard as a rock again. I split the difference and led her upstairs to the bedroom.
PART IV
"Tie me up. I know it's a little old-fashioned, but I like it."
—Candice Bishop
1
The room was dark, lit only by the illumination from a large aquarium against one wall. The aquarium was filled with black angelfish. No other color escaped the tank save for the white gravel on the bottom. Even the plants were black. I like things simple. Even my fish.
I lowered Candice onto the bed. We wrestled for a while in what the natives refer to as the missionary position. Candice was responding more than she did downstairs but there was still something forced about her appearance. She finally gave a moan and straightened her legs spasmodically, signaling that I had at last fulfilled my part of the bargain. I drove into her a few more times and came again myself. I shook her at the end of my cock like a lion would shake a dead antelope. Once I felt completely drained I relaxed on top of her. She lay staring up at the ceiling for a few minutes, lost in some late-hour half dream, then she slid out from under me and went downstairs to get her works.
She brought it all upstairs and began cleaning and loading the pipe again. She stacked her paraphernalia neatly on a nightstand next to the bed. I sat up and lit a cigarette. It was going to be a long night.
"Have you ever freebased?" Candice asked.
"No."
I felt embarrassed, as if never freebasing had left me out of some elite club. I'd done my share of drugs in the last twenty years, but freebasing was beyond my need for experience. I'd seen too many people total their lives at the end of that pipe.
"But you have done coke, haven't you?"
"Of course."
"Of course," she mocked.
Candice lit the pipe and took a small toke. She held it before exhaling. She was a seasoned pro at this game. I suddenly realized that her orgasm a few minutes ago was just an act to get me off and, subsequently, off of her, so she could go down and get her drugs.
"You still haven't come, have you?" I asked.
She responded as if the answer was obvious and I was silly for asking it. "I can't come with someone who isn't as high as I am."
"Bullshit."
"No. I'm serious. It's weird, but when I'm high, I just can't come with someone who isn't."
I got out of bed and stood in front of Candice. My penis brushed her forehead. She brushed it back playfully.
"You are a deeply disturbed young woman," I said.
Candice laughed. "You've disturbed me pretty deeply tonight, that's for sure. Tell me you haven't liked it."
"I haven't liked it," I said halfheartedly. I knelt down between her legs and kissed her thighs, working my way up her body. She saw right through me.
"You're a liar."
"I want you to come," I said.
Candice leaned back on the bed and let my tongue find her.
"Then get high with me," she said. She positioned her legs wider to get more comfortable. I licked her like a cat lapping up cream.
"Really, this is nice," she said between breaths, "but I want to see you smoke."
She grabbed me by the hair, pulled my head out of her lap and looked me in the face.
"Smoke some with me, then I'll give you something I bet you haven't had in a long time."
"I told you I don't freebase."
"Then don't complain about not reaching me." She closed her legs on me as if she was taking a toy away from a bad child.
I stood up again. This was getting ridiculous.
"I think you're totally fucked, but if it means that much to you, I'll take a hit."
I pulled up a chair and sat in front of Candice.
"A couple of hits," Candice insisted. "You won't get it with just one."
"A couple of hits. Then you'll be happy?"
"Then we'll be equals."
"We're equals now."
"No we're not. You have to reach my level before you can fully possess me. I can't feel anything until we're on the same plane." Candice lit the pipe and offered it to me.
I looked at the pipe for a long time before accepting it. Finally, I took a hit. Candice coached me through it like I was having a baby via Lamaze. "Hold it . . . Hold it. Okay. . . . Let it out."
I exhaled. The high hit me like a cold wave. My face flushed and the room spun around me. She had lied. One hit was more than enough to fuck me up. Candice took the pipe, took another hit, then sat the pipe on the nightstand.
"Feel it?" she asked.
It seemed like a lifetime before I could speak. It was probably only a few seconds.
"Yeah. I think I'm on the plane to your level. . . . Meet me at the gate," I babbled like a drunken idiot, trying to make light of my desperate condition.
Candice slid up onto the bed and spread her legs wide.
"This is your gate. Come and get it."
I crawled on top of Candice and began kissing her neck and shoulders. My eyes were glassy from the booze and the coke. I felt light as a feather.
"Nick, there's something I want you to do . . . to get us even closer."
"Anything."
"Tie me up."
"What?"
"Tie me up. I know it's a little old-fashioned, but I like it."
"I don't have any rope."
"You've got neckties, don't you?"
"Sure."
"Well, get them."
I went to my closet and grabbed a bunch of silk ties off my tie rack. I clumsily tied Candice's foot to a bedpost. She was lying on her stomach. I pulled her legs apa
rt and tied her other foot to the other bedpost. I repeated the procedure with her hands, tying each to opposing bedposts at the head of the bed. The bed frame was made of wrought iron, but I had never strapped anyone to it before. I could only hope that the welds would hold during the following stress test.
I looked at Candice spread out like that for a long time, bound and exposed, totally vulnerable to whatever I might want to do to her. The longer I looked, the more she squirmed. The suspense was driving her crazy.
"C'mon, Nick. Don't just stand there. Fuck me!"
"I'm still thinking about it."
She began flailing on the bed, thrusting her hips into the air hungrily. The flailing turned into thrashing. I thought she was going to either hurt herself or destroy my bed. I waited until she thoroughly exhausted herself. She collapsed onto the mattress like a broken bronco. It appeared to be safe to approach.
I crawled on top of Candice and entered her from behind. She gasped with satisfaction. I slowly, rhythmically pumped away. Candice finally seemed to be feeling something, but it was an even more intense experience for me. My face was straining, veins popping out all over, sweat pouring down my brow. But Candice needed to go further.
"You know where I want it," she said.
I was shocked. It had been a wild night so far, but I hadn't had a request like that since the seventies. We were already rolling the dice big time by not using condoms. Now she wanted it in the ass. I was caught in a fever of drugs and lust and now there was nothing I wanted more than to comply with this gorgeous coke whore.
Candice's face contorted with a mixture of pleasure, relief, and agony as I repositioned myself and entered the forbidden territory. We were both so slick with sex that artificial lubrication was unnecessary. I got on my knees, moving gently behind her, guiding her ass cheeks with my hands. She began to twist and turn her head, wanting a kiss. I leaned forward and complied and she bit me on the ear as I started to pull away.
"Harder, Nick, harder!" she commanded.