Not Again

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?