Stoner Slut

Weed stank seemed to seep out of Shelly's pores. Her hands slid down to Sam's shoulders...her tongue slipped out of Sam's mouth and left a slimy trail down the side of her face. Sam coughed, and grabbed her arms.

"Hey...how about we move this into the bedroom?" Sam said, then added hopefully: "Or maybe you want to freshen up? I have a toothbrush you could borrow."

Shelly straightened up, as though something had just occurred to her.

"That is, like, a fantastic, idea. I so have to take a piss. And it's like, I keep forgetting to do that before sex, and all my girlfriends get mad at me, and they think I have this fetish or something but I don't! One of them threatened to put a diaper on me and I told her, I told her, Marcie I'm not into that shit, I just get like, really into it, you know? And then I'm making out with this chick and the next thing you know I just burst and she's like 'Oh no, my duvet!' and I'm like..." Shelly paused. "What's a duvet?"

"The blanket that goes on top of the bed," Sam said. "Master bathroom is right in there...maybe I could fix your a drink or some snacks or something?"

"O-M-G," Shelly said, spelling out the letters. She let out a sudden excited brush. "You have snacks!? I would like, fucking eat a sweaty asshole right now for some nachos..."

The more she talked, the more years Sam mentally deducted from Shelly's age. It was like being back in college again, a bunch of young women in the dorm away from home for the first time, blazing up at every opportunity, stealing clean panties from the other girls because they'd spent the laundry money on skunk weed, showing up high to class and sticking in the back of the auditorium, fingering each other's pussies while some ancient professor rattled on about Newton's three laws...

Which is how Sam found herself in her kitchen, still dressed in only her panties, nuking a plate of tortilla chips and cheese in the microwave and thinking: It's finally happened. I've become my dorm mother.

When Sam came back into the bedroom, carrying a tray with a pair of glasses of whiskey and a steaming plate of nachos, with a little bowl of salsa on the side, the door to the bathroom was closed. Sam set the tray down on a table by the bed. Took a sip of her drink. picked out a warm tortilla chip and nibbled on it. Suddenly nervous Hoping this would work out. Wondering if she hadn't made a mistake in not just going with the flow and fucking Shelly when she could.

By the time she realized that Shelly had been in the bathroom an awfully long time, Sam had almost finished the whiskey and stress-eaten a third of the nachos. Sam stood up and brushed the crumbs from her breasts...and then, a wave of determination came over her.

"This is my house," she whispered. "She's here to fuck me. I want that pussy, and I'm going to have it."

Sam grabbed the waistband of her panties and slid them down her legs. Stepped out of them and left them on the floor. She walked right up to the bathroom and knocked.

"Shelly?" Sam called out. "Your nachos are ready, are you..."

Then Sam smelled it. Saw the curl of smoke up from the edge of the door. Her brown eyes went wide and her hand grabbed the doorknob, twisted, turned...

...and walked into a wall of smoke.

A figure walked out of it, thin, strangely elfin with that long blonde hair, eyes bloodshot, breathing smoke, wreathed in it. Sam barely had time to take in the inverted nipples on the small breasts, the blazing remains of shredded plant material in her sink, the impossibly fat reefer between her hemp-oil-stained fingers...and then Shelly grabbed onto Sam's hips, her tongue sought out Sam's navel, and they tumbled together backwards, Shelly clinging onto her, Sam barely making it to the edge of the bed.

Sam stared down the valley of her own breasts and saw Shelly half-squint as she brought that massive reefer to her lips. The coal burned orange as she inhaled, grey ash dusting Sam's shaven slit...and then Shelly pulled it away, cheeks puffed out like a squirrel, to press her lips against Sam's pussy and blow.

Hot smoke burned against Sam's pussy. Shelly's little stunt ended with a cough and a wheeze...and then, finally, a gritty tongue that scraped over Sam's labia. The stoner began to lick and suck with a kind of single-minded devotion. Her right wrist, the one that held the massive joint, hung over Sam's left knee. The blonde hair must have draped on the floor, and Sam found herself sitting up so she could run her hands through it...and, as the bloodshot eyes wandered over to the half-eaten plate of nachos, Sam gripped her head with both hands, to keep Shelly on task.

"Eat me," Sam said, suddenly hoarse. She could smell the reeking smoke, and coughed a little herself, wondering if she was getting a contact high from the stoner's joint...

...but there was too much smoke for one little joint.

Sam caught the flash of the blaze in her sink a moment before she heard the fire alarm begin to wail. Caught in an untenable situation, for a moment Sam agonized about letting Shelly finish eating her out, at least until Sam had one little orgasm...but she was too much of an adult. More roughly than she wanted to, Sam pushed the young woman away from her crotch and sprinted toward the bathroom.

A wet bath towel put out the blaze in the sink. Sam then rushed to get a chair so she could press the button on the fire alarm...which immediately went off again. Cursing herself, the naked woman ran around the house, opening windows and turning on ceiling fans to air the place out, then went back to the waiting chair. The last thing she needed was the fire department...or the cops...to come.

She pressed the button...hoped...maybe even offered a little prayer, to whatever gods governed the sexually ****...

The beeping stopped. It did not resume.

In her bed, Shelly had found the whiskey, the nachos...and the remote control. She had fixed herself in Sam's spot, the reefer notably diminished, her eyes pink and face blank. A childlike smile came to her as she found what she was looking for.

Sponge Bob Squarepants appeared on the screen.

"This is like, my favorite, episode," Shelly said, utterly engrossed in the program. She held up what was left of the reefer. "Hey, you want some of this?"

Sam took it. Frustration simmered inside of her. Her pussy was wet, but the sudden spurt of adrenaline had ruined her move. She felt tense...angry...her tummy was upset...

Exhaling loudly, Sam brought the marijuana cigarette to her lips and took a deep drag.

By the time the episode was finished, Sam and Shelly were sitting next to one another on the bed, two naked women, the colored images of the animated cartoon bright in the darkness and casting strange shadows over their bodies. The nachos were long gone, the whisky bottle sat empty...and Shelly's head rested against Sam's shoulder, the stoner snoring softly.

For a moment, just a moment, Sam considered eating her pussy. Or digging out a dildo and ****-fucking the stoner slut awake. Yet as the commercial ended and an ancient episode of DragonBall Z cued up, Sam realized that would be ****...and as sexually frustrated as she was, Sam wasn't going to take advantage of a zonked-out Shelly.

When she wakes up in the morning, though, Sam promised herself. Her first and only item on the menu for breakfast is my pussy!