Prologue

My adventures with Carla are the subject of a story of their own, so I won’t go into that too much at this point. Suffice for the moment to say that Carla and I dated on and off for some time. The rest you will have to learn about when I write Carla’s story. Carla had a younger sister, though, and this story is about her. She was younger than Carla by almost two years. Carla had just turned 20, and Suzi had been 18 for a few months.

I really didn’t care too much for Suzi. I tolerated her mainly to keep on the good side of Carla. Suzi was the wilder of the two, and Carla was certainly no choirgirl. Suzi tended to get into trouble frequently, and somehow I turned out to be the ‘go-to guy’ for her. When she needed help, she called me. If she had a flat or ran out of gas on the highway, she called me. If she had guy troubles at the moment, she called me. If she got into any kind of trouble and needed help getting out, she would call me instead of Carla or her parents, because she knew I wouldn’t tell on her or give her a bad time about whatever she had done.

Suzi was an attractive girl. She was about five foot five, with short black hair and dark eyes. Very nice features in general, and a build that was as close to perfectly proportionate as I can imagine. Nevertheless, I had no real attraction towards her. In part, it was because I didn’t want to jeopardize my relationship with Carla, but it was more because I wasn’t all that thrilled with Suzi’s personality and attitude.

Chapter One

Suzi called me at three in the morning. On a weeknight, yet. “Spangles,” she said, “I’m in trouble. I need help.” This was not an unusual call from her. As she talked more, I could tell that she was drunk. Very drunk, in fact. “I’m on Lower Greenville Avenue,” she continued, “at the Tango club.”

“I came down here with Jenny for Ladies Night and we had a few drinks.” More than a few from the sound of it, I thought. “Anyway,” she said, “When we came outside to leave, there were police in the parking lot ready to bust anybody who tried to drive drunk. Jenny insisted that she wasn’t drunk and got in her car to leave. They took her out of the car and gave her a field sobriety test, and she failed. They arrested her and are going to take her to jail, and they are going to impound her car. The police field-tested me, and said I was too drunk to drive, so they wouldn’t let me take Jenny’s car and go home. They said if I could get somebody to come and get me, they would let me go. If not, they are going to charge me with public intoxication and take me to jail, too.”

“Okay, Suzi,” I said, half sighing, “I’ll come after you.” When I got off the phone with her I looked at the clock again. Shit. Almost three thirty in the morning, 10 minutes to get dressed, easily an hour of driving time to get to the Tango club, probably another half hour or so once I got there, an hour drive back home. Probably be home just in time to get ready to go to work. Still, I had agreed to go get her, so I guess I was stuck. If nothing else, it would gain me a few points with Carla for keeping her sister out of jail.

The drive to the club wasn’t as bad as I had expected because traffic was very light at that time of the morning. When I got to the club, it was still crawling with police. Apparently it had been some sort of major raid or crackdown or something. It took me a few minutes to locate Suzi, partly because of the size of the crowd, and partly because I didn’t recognize her immediately.

Suzi was punked out. Her hair was sprayed with some sort of stiffener and was in a sort of semi-mohawk, she had glitter in her hair along with a couple of colored stripes. Her eye make up was nothing short of garish. She was wearing a black t-shirt with huge holes in it and a black fishnet tank top over it. She had on a chrome chain belt and a black denim skirt that was easily six or seven inches above her knees. She had on black, almost knee high boots with chrome accents on them. She did not look like the Suzi I knew at all.

She was also drunk. More than drunk, actually. I had seen her drunk before, and she didn’t act like she was acting at this moment. I figured she was probably high as well. I had no idea what she had taken or smoked, but she was not herself. I was surprised that the police had agreed to let her leave. I knew I had better get her out of there before they changed their minds about it. I guided her to the car and put her in the passenger side, then walked around and got in myself. I was in the mood to gripe at her, but I knew it would be pointless at the moment. Based on her present condition, I doubted that she would remember much of what had happened that night.  By the time we were two blocks from the Tango club, Suzi was passed out cold. I had been sort of counting on her to talk to on the way home in order to help me stay awake. Looked like that was out of the question. That also meant that I would have to carry her into her house when we got there, which meant I had to either wake somebody up or find her keys to get in with.

I got on the highway and headed the car towards home. Each streetlight we passed illuminated her, giving me the opportunity to glance over at her occasionally. She really had a nice build, and was really a good-looking girl when she was dressed well and made up. The way she looked tonight, though, really didn’t suit her. Her position in the car had her legs slightly apart, and her skirt, which was short anyway, had ridden up when she got in. My glances kept going back to her

legs, and of course, that led my mind down several different paths. I knew that she was drunk or drugged or both, and that it would take a tremendous amount to wake her. I felt relatively safe when I reached over to her and gently felt her breast through the material of her top. I wasn’t too surprised to learn that she didn’t have on a bra. She really didn’t need one. Feeling her up like that had a predictable effect on me. It was hard to concentrate on driving.

I moved my hand to her knee, then slowly traced my way up to and beyond the hem of her skirt. It was short enough that I could easily reach her panties without disturbing her skirt at all. Her legs were just far enough apart to give me a little access. I was surprised to find out that the crotch of her panties was wet. Soaking wet, in fact. I immediately got harder. Still trying to drive straight, I managed to get the crotch of her panties aside and felt her slit. It was tremendously wet. I couldn’t manage to get a finger in her due to our positions and the fact that I was still driving. I was wondering what was going on with her. Either she was just tremendously excited by something, perhaps an erotic dream while she was out, or, more likely, based on how wet she was, she had been fucked earlier in the night. It seemed to me that there was way too much wetness between her legs to be just hers. The more I thought about it, the more I was convinced that Suzi had been fucked, and not long before I picked her up. Based on the flood of juices between her legs, he hadn’t used a condom.

I can’t really say why, but that sort of pissed me off. I mean, she goes out partying and having a good time, gets drunk, takes some kind of drugs, gets fucked, and then asks me to come and bail her out in the wee hours of the morning when she gets into trouble. Where in the hell was the guy that had fucked her? Why wasn’t he taking her home? Hell, he is the one who got the benefit. He should be the one to take care of her after the fact. For some reason, that really bothered me.