Dead Means Dead: The Prequel by J.S. Wayne
As the first rays of dawn splattered against the wall like the broken yolk of a brilliant orange-yellow egg, Janine tottered into her apartment. Her feet and back ached from a long night of alternating standing and contorting her body to conform to the proportions of various vehicles. She kicked off her high heels and scowled as a fresh wave of pains screamed from the sore soles of her feet clear up to her neck. Pulling the wad of bills out of her bra, she counted out the fruits of the night’s labors.
Three hundred dollars, most of that referable to two guys who’d wanted butt sex. Naturally, neither of the cheap fuckers had bothered to bring rubbers or lube, so she’d had to dip into her emergency supply of both. Jerks. Even worse, she’d had to dicker with the dickwads. Her prices weren’t unreasonable, especially considering how few girls who worked the downtown area would do that at all. She’d had to tell them “good night” twice before they agreed to even two-thirds of her original asking price.
Before heading out this evening, she’d have to buy more KY and condoms. She’d have to leave earlier than usual to get to the corner store before that cunt Darla claimed the best corner for herself. Fucking nuisance.
On the upside, she’d made three hundred dollars. Not a bad night’s work.
Minutes later, she sagged in the relief of a blissfully hot shower. The late spring nights could be downright brisk, and it’s not like she could dress for comfort. Hookers dressed for seduction and utility.
She quickly but thoroughly sluiced the night’s exertions off her body, paying extra attention to the places men liked to touch most with a rough loofa and surgical-grade soap. As she did, she imagined the hot water rinsing off not just the men’s sweat and slobber, but also the accrued filth that had formed a shell around her heart.
Hooking was not an easy way to make a living; only the hardest survived. For a moment, she allowed herself to wish she’d stayed in school instead of running off with a half-formed dream and not nearly enough cash to carry her through. She’d been lucky to find Chelsea, a kindred soul working the streets but not yet hardened enough to let a wide-eyed girl from Minnesota starve or freeze in the South Dakota winter.
Her thoughts turned from the gloomy postmortem of her life to the present. She wondered if there was any chance Chelsea might still be awake. Although Chelsea’s appearance always hovered right on the edge of starvation, she was an enthusiastic and welcoming lover. Her huge blue eyes always seemed to sparkle with desire for Janine.
She hadn’t ever forced her attentions, either. She’d let her know real quick she was into women, and that hooking was just how she paid the rent. Once she’d made this distinction, she’d left Janine to make her own decision.
It hadn’t taken long, and Janine had learned just how wonderful the loving embrace of another woman could be. After a hard night of grunting, pumping, and pretending her latest meal ticket was the greatest lover ever, being able to cuddle up with someone who truly cared about her pleasure and wanted her as more than just a cum dumpster inarguably was the best part of her day.
The gentle slide of carefully manicured fingernails on her ass alerted her she wasn’t alone, but for a moment, she thought she was just imagining the attentive, delicate touch on her naked skin. She smiled and closed her eyes as Chelsea worked magic on her aching muscles, punctuating her smooth, soft movements with little kisses and licks, proving she was no hallucination.
“Rough night?” Chelsea purred, pushing her skinny body against Janine’s back.
“Ugh. You have no idea.” With the words came a replay of wheedling those two assholes for enough money to make it worth her while to let them have her asshole.
“I made six fifty last night. Three guys wanted to party with me and Chloe, so we made four hundred apiece, plus my other tricks.”
A wave of conflicting emotions threatened to swamp Janine. On one hand, she and Chelsea made a good team and good roomies because they both shared an occupation. On the other, Janine hated to hear Chelsea had been out with other women. Even if the intimacy was nothing more than full-contact porno for the guys’ benefit, Janine didn’t like the idea of her sharing another woman’s bed for any reason.
But the calculating voice in her head had to admit that an extra six hundred fifty bucks in the household kitty would make the next month a lot more comfortable.
She abandoned that line of thought as Chelsea pushed her carefully against the wall and teased her finger along the outside of her pussy lips. The sweet, sharp thrill caused her to arch her back in a catlike motion of contentment. After a long night of servicing men who considered her a convenient receptacle, feeling the touch of someone who truly loved and desired her was the next best thing to Heaven.
She reached back to offer Chelsea the same pleasure the other woman was giving her.
Chelsea slapped her fingers away. “Oh, no you don’t. Just lean back and enjoy the ride. I got mine earlier. Besides, you look like you need this a lot more than I do.”
Chelsea rubbed her chest teasingly down Janine’s back, scrubbing her tits teasingly over the wet flesh of her ass. The contact broke, and Janine almost whimpered at the loss, pushing her butt back in a gesture of combined insistence and pleading.
Chelsea’s tongue parted her pussy lips, and Janine’s world exploded into little crystal shards of multicolored heat.
Chelsea’s pointed, greedy tongue found the perfect spot, circling Janine’s clit and making her arch her hips against the sweet pleasure. Janine laced her fingers through Chelsea’s silky hair, pulling the other woman’s mouth against her aching wetness. If my clientele was half as good at finding my clit as Chelsea is, I’d enjoy my job a hell of a lot more.
Her sense of self fractured into a million shards of golden-white light. Dimly, at the far edges of her consciousness, she was aware of a luscious pleasure-pain as fingernails dug into her ass, urging her from the luxurious plateau to even greater ecstatic heights.
Hot water poured from the showerhead with stinging force. Her skin tingled in sympathy with the exquisite sensations. Chelsea licked down her slit to find her tight entrance and stiffened her tongue to stab deep into Janine’s body. Chelsea’s tongue worked frantically and her eyes slid closed with blissful satisfaction, making such an erotic picture between Janine’s thighs that another tsunami of sensation swept Janine away. She screamed out her rapturous release, the sound echoing off the walls of the shower.
When the pleasure became too intense to bear, she had to push Chelsea away and then pull her to her feet. Leaning forward, she kissed her lover hotly, sucking the tangy sweetness of her own juices from Chelsea’s lips. With one hand, she fumbled until she found the knob for the shower. She gave it a push and turned off the water, all the while enjoying the soft heat of Chelsea’s mouth and her darting, acrobatic tongue.
The air in the bathroom cooled. Finally, she broke the kiss.
“My turn,” she cooed, dragging a towel into the shower stall and seductively rubbing it over Chelsea, “accidentally” rubbing her knuckles over the places she knew would make the other woman melt into a helpless pool of need. Chelsea shivered and her eyes flickered closed.
The two staggered awkwardly out of the bathroom, entwined in a passionate kiss. Janine’s hip bumped the bathroom counter painfully, but she didn’t give the impact any more attention than it took to shift her course. They careened off the walls, locked in their heated embrace, skin yielding against soft, heated skin. Dimly, Janine realized that if anyone had been there to see, the two women would have looked like they were right in the middle of a catfight, and in a way, they were. With Chelsea, she could dispense with such pretenses and take the control she craved, but Chelsea also knew exactly how to reduce her to a begging, sobbing, pleading mess when she needed it.
And today, God did she need it.
* * * * *
The late-afternoon sun woke her, and Janine sat up with a violent shiver. Chills raced down her skin. Chelsea sighed and rolled over, offering a tantalizing glimpse of her back, then her light snoring resumed.
Another chill racked Janine. She stood up, wincing as every joint in her body seemed to pop all at once. A wave of dizziness swept her, tinting her vision a sickly red with gray and black tendrils reaching in from her peripheral vision. She reached down and placed her palm flat on the bed to hold herself steady.
Once her vision cleared, she shuffled into the bathroom slowly. Every step triggered a fresh burst of nausea, and she barely made it to the toilet before her stomach rebelled.
A long, miserable time later, she wiped her streaming eyes and stood to turn on the water in the sink. She rinsed her mouth out, grimacing at the vile taste. Twisting the tap off, she picked her toothpaste up off the sink and spread a little on her finger. Vigorously, she scrubbed the minty paste over her teeth. It didn’t help her jittery stomach, but at least the bitterness in her mouth went away.
She stole a glance at the tub, but immediately decided against it. As delicious as a long soak would feel, she needed to start getting ready for her night.
Chelsea appeared in the doorway.
The greeting died on her lips as she sized up Chelsea’s appearance. Her half-mast eyelids couldn’t hide the piss-yellow of the “whites” of her eyes. Her skin had taken on a nasty gray pallor that reminded Janine of a horror movie she’d watched on late-night TV months before. Against the gray of her skin, the red of her mouth resembled nothing so much as a bleeding wound.
“Chelsea, what the Hell’s the matter?”
“Urk,” Chelsea croaked.
“Are you okay, honey?” Janine asked, taking a step forward.
Chelsea stuttered into motion like a malfunctioning wind-up toy, lunging toward her with a thin, piping scream. Janine staggered back, painfully ramming the base of her spine against the sink basin. Chelsea rushed toward her, her mouth hanging open and flecked with foam, eyes crazed and inhuman.
Janine brought her arm up to deflect the charge, catching Chelsea just below her jaw. Chelsea’s head snapped back with sickening ease, her teeth snapping. She raised one hand, the fingers twisted into claws, and swiped at Janine, her sharp fingernails gouging Janine’s shoulder deeply.
With a scream and a wrenching twist, Janine pirouetted away. Chelsea followed her gracelessly, her teeth audibly chomping. She raised her hand to strike again.
Still screaming, Janine groped behind the sink, seeking a weapon. Her fingers brushed something, and she brandished the item with a flourish . . .
. . . Only to realize that the “weapon” she’d found was a toilet brush.
It’ll have to do., She shoved the brush end into Chelsea’s mouth. Hissing and gurgling horribly, Chelsea fell back just enough to allow Janine to lash out with one foot and hook her girlfriend behind the calf. With a quick twist, she countered Chelsea’s balance, toppling her.
Chelsea’s head hit the toilet with an ugly crack. She flopped bonelessly to the ground.
Janine stood up shakily and surveyed the carnage. A thin, black stream of something that didn’t look like any human fluid leaked from Chelsea’s ear. Her eyes were now glazed and lifeless. Shaking, Janine rushed past Chelsea’s prone body to summon help.
Before she got three steps, a hand latched around her foot. Staggering for balance, she looked back to see Chelsea rear back like a snake. Before she could jerk free, that horrific parody of Chelsea’s face streaked toward her calf, teeth bared.