Full House - part 7

I watched Emma walk briskly to my car. She jumped in and made a grab for the cigarettes on the dashboard.
“Shit,” she said, leaning in for me to fire her up. She double pumped it and then laid back, her eyes closed. “I fucking needed this,” she breathed.
“Well, good morning to you, honey.”
She grinned. “Sorry,” she said. “I guess I’m getting addicted.”
She took another drag, and tipped the ash out of the window. “Which wouldn’t be a fucking problem, if only I could smoke at home.”
I picked her books bag and dropped it on the back seat together with my messenger bag. “Mommy gave you some trouble?”
Amma shrugged. “Some crap about my clothes and hair smelling of stale smoke. I told her Liz and Nina are two chainsmoking bitches, and I get to breathe their passive smoke when we spend time together.”
“Really?”
Her grin widened. “You were right. Bullshitting her is getting easier. But now she wants me to stop hanging out with the girls.”
I flicked my spent cig out of my window. “She’s right. You gotta be careful about who you hang out with, babe.”
We laughed.
“Yeah,” she said, exhaling a thick flume. “I’m pretty sure you could have a bad influence on me.”
I pulled the pill bottle from my leather jacket and dropped a few blue addys in my palm.
“What’s that?” Emma asked, as I swallowed them.
“Bad influence,” I winked, and I started the engine.



I parked in the second level of the mall’s parking lot and lit a cigarette.
“What are we waiting for?” Emma asked.
“I don’t hear you!” I grinned, without looking at her.
She sighed a smoky sigh. “What the fuck are we waiting for?”
“My fucking customers.”
“Customers?”
I nodded. “Here comes one.”
In just a few days, my routines had settled. A woman of about thirty, in a neat pant suit set, walked towards the Mini, her heels clicking on the tarmac. She bent down to look into my window.
“Good morning,” I said. She was one of the counter cashiers at the local bank.
She opened her purse, pulled out three neatly folded banknotes and slipped them in my cleavage. “Let’s make this fast,” she said in a low voice.
I slowly retrieved my black messenger bag from the back seat and handed her her bag. She weighed it, then slipped it in her purse. “Goodbye.”
We watched her go.
Emma’s mouth was hanging open, her cigarette sticking to her lower lip. “Was that cocaine?!”
“I guess so,” I replied. “You ever tried it?”
“You are selling drugs!”
I shrugged. “It’s a living.”
“But it’s against the law!”
“So it is drinking and driving.”
I pulled my silver flask from the messenger bag and took a long pull. I offered her the vodka. She took a sip, her eyes watering as she swallowed.
“Cheers babes.”
We both jumped. A guy in a camo jacket was standing by the car. He gave me a lopsided grin. From one of his pockets he took a roll of banknotes.
“You’ll give me a heart attack!” I said, handing him a box of pills.
“That’s what your tits do to me every time I see you, babe,” he leered, pocketing the drugs. “Who’s the good girl?”
“None of your fucking business,” Emma replied.
He chuckled. “Not so good, after all. Well, have a nice day, babes.”
And he shuffled off.

#

We sat in silence for a few minutes, smoking.
“What are they like?” she asked, without looking at me.
“What?”
“The fucking pills, the ones you took before. Those are not fucking vitamines, right?”
I chuckled and placed my bottle on the dashboard.
“Adderall,” I said. “Prescription drug.  Speed, basically. It’s pretty hot with students. Makes it easy to cram for tests.”
She nodded, and picked up the bottle, reading the label. “You have a prescription for these?”
“Sure,” I laughed. “I can get all the prescriptions I like.”
She stared at me for a moment, and then she stubbed out her cigarette. “What are they like?” she asked again. “How do they feel? It’s not like you’re taking any fucking test, right?
I sighed and stretched.
“It’s like suddenly stopping after a long run. Your heart beats faster, your sight is sharper, and you feel warm while the sweat on your skin cools. You get this big boost of energy and your brain buzzes like after twenty cigarettes. And there’s no fatigue at all.”
I turned to her. “It’s pretty fucking good, all things considered. And mixes well.”
“Mixes well?”
“You can do other stuff while you’re buzzed on those. Booze goes down much smoother. Weed melts like butter on your mind. Even cigarettes taste better. And the sex is glorious.”
She eyed the pills.
“The only drawback is, when you come down from the high, you feel like shit. I puke my heart out most of the time.”
“Wonderful,” she grimaced.
“Pretty much, yes. Because you come to enjoy the puking, too.”
She took a long breath. “OK, let’s try,” she said, opening the bottle.
“You sure?”
She turned to me. “How many do I take?”
I took the bottle from her fingers. “Here,” I said, “let me help you.”

#

“This is fucking awesome!”
Emma was tripping on her first Adderall high, and she was clearly enjoying it a lot. She bent towards me and I lit her cigarette. She relaxed in her seat and blew out a cloud of smoke.
“You are right. Smoke tastes better. It’s tingling on my tongue.”
“The downside will hurt,” I told her.
She grinned, her eyes sparkling. “Can you tell from where you are what a big, rolling fuck I give about that?”
We laughed. She shook the bottle like it was a rattler. “This shit is magic,” she said. “Can you keep me supplied?”
I laughed, smoke coming out in bursts through my mouth and nose. “First hit, and you’re already hooked? Babe, you’re my ideal customer.”
“Shit, Charlotte, this stuff is making me feel so alive. I’m not afraid of anything anymore, I’m sexy as fuck, and I feel like a goddam goddess! So yes, I’m hooked, and I want to keep doing this stuff.”
I gave a deep chuckle. “Wait until you try coke, then.”
“Shit, I need to.”
She pushed the seat as back as it would go, and propped her feet on the dashboard, flicking ash out of the window.
“And I also need a pair of fresh panties,” she giggled.
“Well, about that, I think I can fix you straight away. Come.”

#

Buzzing like a swarm of wasps, we walked into the mall and made it for the fetish shop where Plenty’s girlfriend worked. The petite brunette was behind the counter, talking in hushed tones with a pretty Asian girl.
When she saw me, she whispered something and her colleague smiled and found herself something to do.
“Hi, pretty,” I said.
“Lilith, you look gorgeous.”
I slid a bag of molly across the counter. “Plenty sends her regards.”
The brunette pocketed the pills. “How’s darling Plenty?” she asked, blushing.
“Hot, wet and depraved,” I winked, making her blush even more. “You should come and see her one of these nights.”
“Yes!” she breathed, and then she turned to Emma. “And your friend…”
“This is Emma, and she needs some fresh lingerie. I’d like to get her the kinkiest you’ve got.”
I turned to watch Emma, and I put my hand on her hip. “Today’s her birthday,” I said. Emma giggled.
The girl smiled. “Sure!”
Emma turned to me. “What’s this Lilith shit?”
I gave her a good display of my cleavage. “Do I look like a Charlotte to you?”
She grinned. “It figures.”
“Come?” the girl said.
Emma followed her in the stalls. The girl turned to me over her shoulder. “Are you not coming?”

#

Emma cursed and pulled at her harness through the floral blouse. “This thing is a fucking torture,” she said. 
“But it does wonders for your titties.”
“Yes, doesn’t it?”
After some trials, we had opted for a shoulder-hugging underbust leather harness, black with steel buckles and, to replace the soaked panties, a black leather straps combo that wrapped her hips and buttocks while cupping her pussy.
With her old jeans and blouse on it did not show at all, but her tits had perked up and her nipples stiffened, showing through the cloth, and she walked like there was someone tickling her twat.
“Now what?” she asked, as I started the engine again.
“One more stop, then I’ll take you home.”
She grinned as she flipped  the radio on. “More drug dealing?”
I patted her leg. “Honey, you’re gonna love it.”