The following work of fiction contains sexual activities between
consenting adults. If you are too young, too uptight, or your
local government is too oppressive, you should stop reading now.



This story is in the public domain. While you are legally free
to do anything you like with it, out of courtesy to the author,
I humbly request that you leave my name and contact information
with this story.


Not Again
By Poison Ivan



By Poison Ivan

_Warning! The following work of fiction contains 
sexual activities between consenting adults. You must be at least 18 
years old to read it._

My sister Jenna picked up Patsy at the hospital. Patsy wasn't
hurt so bad this time, but Jenna said she still cried the whole
way home.

When I called, Patsy was calmed down enough to say, OK, I can
come over if I want. But all the way over I'm kickin' myself for
gettin' involved. Me and Patsy, we was still friendly, but some
day I gotta convince myself we'll never hook up again.

Patsy met me at the door barefoot and wearin' a battered old
robe. Her fingers was taped and her body's hitched a tad
sideways. Thank God Andy didn't bust her face this time.

Once inside, Patsy's limpin' `round tryin' to clean up the mess,
but she cain't hardly move her arm. "Why don't you let me help?"
I offered. Patsy frowned like a farmer bein' low-balled by a
wholesaler, but she said OK anyway.

We worked two hours. Andy'd busted three chairs, leavin' a hole
in the sheetrock and splinterin' wood everywhere. If Patsy don't
learn to run when Andy's drunk, she's gonna get herself killed
some day.

Patsy's house is really gone to shit since we was together. The
sofa's worn through, and the walls need paint bad. Even after we
cleaned up the mess, everythin' still looked dirty.

When we was mostly done, Patsy comes up close to me and says,
"Thanks, Johnny." She gave me a weak hug with her good arm.

It's s'posed to be a friendly hug, `cept I suddenly remembered
when me and Patsy used to fuck every day after my shift let off.
And then my dick got hard. When Patsy stepped back, her robe
loosened up and I saw her tit, even her round, brown nipple. For
a minute, neither of us knew what to do.

And then we kissed. A slow, soft kiss.

Patsy froze and got panicky eyes. Her arm hung unnatural, like a
bent fishhook. I s'pose I gawked.

Eventually, Patsy must've felt sorry for me, `cause she finally
smiled and nodded. Goddam, was I happy! I led her to the bedroom,
and we undressed and climbed in bed.

I looked at Patsy naked. There's a football-sized bruise on the
left side where her ribs showed. I stayed away from the bruise
and kissed her right tit. I ran my fingers through her pussy
hair, but Patsy cried out.

"I'm sorry, Johnny, I cain't. I cain't breathe, it hurts too
much." Tears was brimmin' in her eyes.

"That's OK, Patsy." And it was true, it really was OK. I was
happy just to be with her again. We laid together quiet. I closed
my eyes.

After a long time, Patsy rustled. "Johnny?" she breathed. I just
wanted to lay with her, so I didn't say nothin' and pretended to
sleep.

Patsy snuck out of bed and dialed the telephone.

"Hello, Andy?" she whispered, thinkin' I cain't hear. "How you
doin'?"

My heart sunk. Not again, I thought to myself.

But what could I do?

507 499 Words


              

Comments? Good or bad, I'd love to hear them. Email me at
poisoniv1@hotmail.com. Or you can find mor estories like this on
my website, http://bounce.to/poisoniv1.