Snowbunny

It was the jitter in her hands. The slight chemical, almost metallic scent that clung to the skin of her face. The ways her irises were dilated, so that Sam stared into twin little obsidian mirrors.

Sam had known a few speedfreaks in college. It had been an easy habit for even the good kids to fall into. A little extra Ritalin to study, caffeine pills to stay awake a little longer. Some of them got a taste for the harder stuff...crushing pills and snorting them. Cocaine. They had been a real party-and-club crowd, but Sam had never hooked up with any of them.

Maybe it was just the residual leeriness that came from the don't-do-**** rhetoric her parents and school had subjected her to. Maybe it was that one night she'd seen one of those young women in the hallway of the dorm, blood streaming down her nose as the EMTs had taken her toward the ambulance after sniffing rat poison. Or maybe it was just that they were too dangerous, too unpredictable. Junkies were like that.

Now, there was a junkie in her house, in her face. Shelly's lips pressed into the hollow of Sam's throat, sucking hard. Her fingers scraped down Sam's curves, to seize on her breasts. Sam bit her lip as Shelly's mouth moved down her sternum...

"Maybe...we should take this to the bedroom?" Sam said, as she tried to bury her misgivings in the face of hot sex.

Shelly blew a raspberry between Sam's breasts, the buzz of her lips eliciting a laugh from the startled woman...and then Shelly stood up, suddenly immensely serious.

"Hey. You have any...toys?"

Sam licked her lips. "Yeah?"

A sniffle. "Good. Because it's playtime..."

Shelly dug into her pocket and held up a little baggy of white pills. "...and I brought enough candy to share."

Sam swallowed.

"I, uh...I don't partake."

Shelly let her hand, still groping Sam's breast, slide down to grab at her panty-clad ass.

"That's cool. More for me. In fact, there's something I've always wanted to try..."

Which is how Sam ended up on her bed, naked, a selection of dildos laid out on a towel next to her left thigh like a surgeon's tools. One of them, a slim, floppy purple number that Sam called Mr. Softy, was squeezed into Shelly's pussy. Sam watched as Shelly crushed the pills inside the bag, squeezing them between her fingers with the single-minded dedication of a child with a roll of bubble wrap.

She had stripped down out of her skimpy outfit, Sam's junkie sex friend...and the sight of those small breasts with the hard pink nipples, that round little ass, and the tiny blonde landing strip that led to Shelly's pink pussy had gone a long way toward making Sam agree to all of her suggestions...but now, as the junkie slowly poured out the powdered pills in a line from Sam's navel to her mons, Sam had second thoughts.

Then Shelly bent over her. No straw, no rolled-up dollar bill. She pinched one nostril shut with a finger and planted the other flat against Sam's stomach...and began to snort.

It was about the least sexy sound that Sam had ever heard. The crushed pills were sucked up into that hole in her head, and Sam could only imagine Shelly's septum slowly disintegrating. She had to fight to keep from flinching, for fear of spilling the **** off her stomach and onto the mattress...and then Shelly began to move.

She dragged her nose down Sam's body...and Sam raised her head and watched, as one might the scene of an accident on the side of the highway. As Shelly approached the last inch, A blot of red appeared...and Sam shivered uncontrollably as a crimson smear appeared on her stomach. The long snort was interrupted by a kind of internal combustion, a sneezing-cough, violent and unexpected, the long blonde mane shaking...and then Sam could feel Shelly's tongue on her crotch, and the head turned as she went to clean up any **** she had missed on her first pass..

...and Sam watched in horror and fascination as Shelly licked up her own blood, bright red oozing out of one nostril as she licked her way back up to Sam's belly button. Earlier in this evening, Sam would have paid money to have a beautiful naked woman licked her navel, but now all she could see was the junkie getting in fix, and hated to think what those **** were doing in Shelly's brain.

There was a pause, then. Shelly kind of rested for a moment, her chin on Sam's stomach, eyes stared vacantly, completely dilated. Sam waited with kind of sick fascination. Waited for the **** to kick in, for the snowbunny to go maniac on her pussy, shove those dildos into her pussy, fuck Sam raw.

Instead, something unexpected happened. Shelly's left eye seemed to slide downward while her right eye stared forward. The left side of her face grew suddenly slack. The mouth opened and closed...and Sam pushed herself up and said.

"Shelly? Shelly, are you okay?"

"Ith..." Shelly tried to say, but it was clear muscles in her face weren't working.

All thought of sex was now lost as Sam quickly sat up. She grabbed Shelly's hands, stared into her eyes.

"Shelly, squeeze my hands. Hard as you can. Both of them," Sam said breathlessly.

She tried to. Sam winced as Shelly's right hand squeezed tight, but her left sat limp in her hand...and in breath, Sam was grabbing her smartphone and dialing 9-1-1.

They wouldn't let her ride in the ambulance with Shelly. Sam chased it in her car, Shelly's clothes in a plastic bag on her passenger seat. The nurses were considerate, told her where to wait...and then there was just Sam and her own guilt.

I did this. Because I was horny, because I was stupid, I let a fucking snowbunny overdose just because I needed my cunt eaten out. Was the general refrain of Sam's thoughts...and it didn't matter when she reminded herself that Shelly herself was the addict, the junkie, the stupid skag that had brought her pills "to share" and then stuffed them all up her nose...

"Are you waiting for Miss Shelverstein?" A voice said.

Sam looked up into the brown face of a tired Indian woman in a white labcoat over scrubs.

"Yes?" Sam said.

"I am Doctor Laghari; Miss Shelverstein is resting right now. We'll want to keep her for observation for the night, and tomorrow. She has suffered a small ischemic stroke, a blood clot that denied oxygen to the brain; we were able to administer alteplase via IV in time. You did very well to get her to us so quickly. Superficially, there does not seem to be much damage, but we need to keep her to better evaluate how she is doing."

Sam's heart leaped. She could have kissed the doctor.

Then the doctor coughed and pulled something out of her pocket. It was a plastic bag with a biohazard symbol on it...and through the translucent sides, Sam could see the purple shape of Mr. Softy.

"I am given to understand that this belongs to you?"

Sam swallowed, nodded, and held out her hand. The way tonight had gone, she would need to rely on Mr. Softy even more.