Reese arrived in the morning, when it was already daylight. This was the end of both our nights. She told me that Allison, who was supposed to come back with her, had drunk two shots of tequila and her entire personality changed [more powerful substances were involved, I’m certain], so Reese ditched her and returned by herself. We smoked some up, and Reese removed some of her clothing. She went into the bathroom to do some down, asked me if I wanted some. I said yes just a line, then decided to have her shoot me with it. Reese said OK, proceeded to hit me up as I laid in bed, then went back into the bathroom to hit herself.
I regained consciousness about 20 minutes later, though I hadn’t overdosed. I figured out over six or eight months of very infrequent use that I was allergic to heroin, or more likely allergic to some other ingredient in the vile concoction that was sold as heroin in our city, and whenever I took it I would go into a kind of seizure, pass out and go all twitchy and fetal. I had also learned the sad and quite alarming fact that I had to be careful who I passed out in front of, because some people would rob me, in my fucking house, like good God I don’t know how to take care of myself. Reese smiled, said, “You slept right through fun time. I’ve never seen that,” chuckling light-heartedly. She then commenced sucking my dick (OK, quite pleasantly) for about ninety seconds, looked up at the clock on the Bose radio, and grinned ingratiatingly at me, all obligations heretofore disposed. She was now ready to leave.
Reese is a peach, one of my oldest friends (in her business). She can also be a mean, sneaky, low-rent junkie crack ho. She stole (or just forgot whose were whose) drugs and money and household goods (sheets and towels, though I may have given them to her when she was moving), drug paraphernalia, and once when she was trashed she stole my phone and coat, which she didn’t mean to do and was just too wasted to follow through on our plans for her to return to my house with them. I eventually got the coat back. She was not alone among junkie crack hos who harvested the fruits of my elevated libido, and generous good will.
I learned a lot from Reese, about the formalities of how you pay a ho to suck your dick, and how you pay for her drugs. Any mistakes and you pay for all the drugs and receive exactly no dick sucking [err, I mean provider services]– over some legal sleight-of-hand, or because you bought her too much drug so she’s shit-faced and incapable of any kind of “fun time” as a matter of fact [though neither was I, during several of our encounters, to be completely frank], and then usually it was necessary to cough up cab fare or straight-up just drive my pretty, wasted Reese back into town. I also learned I shouldn’t procure too much down for her in one encounter, because that’s when she got unpredictable.
But when the time came, when I came, when I got to enjoy Reese’s fun time legitimately, for all the agreed upon minutes, when the drugs were right, and the cash was right, I was never disappointed. I love you, Reese, and how you treat me, and appreciate the service you sell. Always will. You know that.
Bitchez 