Adults Only

Six Days

Copyright 2007 Rachael Ross all rights reserved. Intended for adults only.
Story codes: M/F, alcohol, coercion, cheat, slow

Note: I have a lot of notes on this story. I wrote it very quickly, without any clue what it was about or where it was going, and then I looked at it for a long time...Two days now. I'm sort of up in the air with what to do with it. -rr


Six Days
by rache

"Can I have one of those?" I asked a guy who was lighting a cigarette, 

"Yeah, sure." He fumbled with his pack for a moment and finally shook one free, smiling apologetically.

He looked old and overweight and he was nervous. He probably didn't get a lot of girls talking to him, not young pretty ones anyway, even if it was just bumming a smoke.

I held it to my lips, looking at him expectantly, but he was looking down at my breasts.

"Oh." He happened to glance up, closing his eyes and turning red. "Sorry, here."

"Thanks." I forgave him for everything, pulling the smoke into my lungs.

I walked away, leaving him there, just wanting to be alone.

"First time here?" Another guy asked me, moving closer to where I stood by an open window. He was dressed like a salesman, grey suit, red tie. He had a little tic in his left eye that made me want to scratch it.

"Yeah…No…" I shrugged. "I've been before."

"Little fall, huh?" He pursed his lips. "I'm Michael." He offered his hand.

"Loren." I smiled weakly, letting him touch my fingers briefly.

"You look kind of nervous." He said and I almost laughed, but I didn't.

"My husband doesn't know I smoke." I told him.

"Ahhh…" Michael nodded, like that made any kind of sense.

My husband didn't know I drank either, and how would he? I'd been sober for almost two years, longer than he'd known me. Sober until my wedding night. One glass of champagne, right? Wouldn't hurt. I was sober. I could handle it, and I had. I'd had one glass on the best day of my life. A week later I'd had another, while he was asleep. I'd had a couple and then a few days later…

That was my pattern. That was my deal. Three months later I was drinking every day and he was wondering about me. And everyone who knew me, who knew the real me, they'd warned me. They'd tried to tell me that I'd better come clean with the guy I was marrying. And I hadn't. I hadn't said a word about what I really was. Inside. In the darkness.

Now I was back, sneaking out to come to the meetings, desperate to get straight, to get sober before I fucked it all up. I had my sponsor, I had my steps, I had the commitment and the desire and the plan. All I needed was the faith, and more than that, I just needed the time, because nothing happens overnight.

I was too young for this, that's what people thought. Normal people, sober people. The people outside my family, some of my friends. That's what my husband would think. I was just 21 years old. You can't be an alcoholic when you're 21, it's impossible. I wasn't bad or stupid or ugly or anything. I was young and pretty and only the people who came to the meetings, they knew. You could be anyone and be an alcoholic. 

I was strong though. Oh yeah, I'd done all this before and I knew I could do it again. That was the thing, see? I'd had one little lapse, that was all, and I wasn't getting married again. No more champagne. I'd sober up, I'd tell my husband after I'd proved it. No promises, I wasn't going to be the boozer who promises to quit. I'd quit first, I'd prove it first, and promise him later.

He'd have to believe me then.

"All I need is time, see?" I was talking to Earl, my sponsor. My guy on the phone, now standing in front of me. "I've gone six days." I licked my lips. "I'm drying out, I can do it."

"You have to tell him, Loren." He sighed. "It isn't going to work if…"

"I know, yeah." I nodded quickly. "But I have to prove it. Thirty days. I go thirty days and I'm good. I'll tell him."

That was my plan, to give my husband something to trust. Something to believe in, because he couldn't believe me. Not after I told him. You couldn't ever trust an alcoholic, he'd know that, or he'd learn it. But maybe not, I prayed, I hoped, if I could go thirty days, and thirty after that, stretching the days to months and years. He wouldn't have to learn. I could do it. I'd done it before, until my one little mistake.

"Hi, I'm Loren." I waited while everybody said hi back to me.

"I'm an alcoholic and I'm six days without a drink now..." I sucked my lips, looking down a little. "I was here before, I know some of you…Hey Gerry." I smiled, giving a guy a little wave, and then a smiled at an older woman, in her fifties. "Vicky. Hi. I uh, I got married and had some champagne..."

I laughed at the irony and got my sympathetic smiles, and nods, and all the support they could give me. 

"I was doing good, two years sober." I sucked my lips. "Now I'm on six days. Heh. I think it's harder this time. I want it more, you know? Like, those two years never happened, they're just...gone. And I...I used to think this was it, I'm free now."

I scratched my head, looking down. Some of them said it was okay and I nodded. I didn't talk long, just five minutes. Just introducing myself. I was determined. My first time, a few years before, I hadn't said a word for three weeks, but I didn't have the time for that. No time to be the shy girl, watching from the back, taking it one step at a time.

"You're gonna do it Loren." Earl was giving me a hug. He was a good guy, sober for nine years, strong as a rock.

"Yeah." I nodded.

"You call me, okay? Anytime." He told me.

"I will." I promised, and it was a real one. I'd called him before, how many times, and he was always there.

"Alright." He smiled at me. "Coming on Friday?"

"I'll be here." I sniffed a little, because I'd cried earlier, when I'd talked about my husband and how I'd lied to him, because lying is what I did best when I needed a drink. To him and me, to everyone.

"Okay." He nodded. He didn't say goodbye, he never did, and neither did I. He wasn't really leaving me, he was always there.

I opened my purse, looking for my car keys. The meetings I went to were downtown, at the old armory on Broadway. It was cold, but not too late. Just after nine, maybe nine thirty. I'd told my husband I'd be out until ten, visiting a friend, and that was only sort of a lie, right? And I had time and there was a bar just across the street and I looked at it.

"Six days." I blinked and looked at me keys, pushing the button so the alarm on my little black Porsche went off. My wedding present from my husband, the doctor. 

He was an Oncologist at Methodist Hospital, older than me. I was a trophy wife, I suppose, but only to the people who didn't know us. The people who did knew we were in love. That he was twenty years older than me didn't matter. He was smart and handsome and successful and…He had a daughter 2 years younger than me. Just starting college and people talked. And I needed a drink, but…

"Which way are you headed" Someone asked me.

"What?" I looked at the man and I realized I'd been staring at that bar. It made me blush, like I'd got caught with a glass in my hand.

"I was wondering if I could get a ride." He smiled. He was older too, in his thirties, neither handsome or ugly and I'd seen him at the meeting. He hadn't said anything, he'd just sat in the back watching.

"Uh…" I swallowed. "I'm going home." 

"Well, yeah." He smiled. "I figured that."

I nodded, feeling self-conscious. I'd said it as much to myself as to him. I wasn't going to the bar, I was going home.

"I'm going out by Mayo Wood." I licked my lips.

"Perfect, I'm going that way too. I live by St. Mary's." He was looking at me. "Are you okay? I didn't mean to scare you."

"Yeah." I smiled a little. "Sure, I can give you a ride."

"Nice little car." The man said once we were inside. 

I let the engine warm up for a minute. There was a little frost on the windows. It had been raining earlier and now it was starting to freeze on the window. November in Minnesota was like that.

"Yeah." I nodded. "I like it." And that summed up my knowledge about cars.

"Loren right?" He shifted a little in the seat, looking at me under the yellowish glow of the streetlights outside. "I'm Nick."

I turned the defroster on high and tried the wipers, they just scratched the ice, so we sat there a minute longer, waiting.

"You want some?" He asked and I blinked at him. "A little schnapps?"

"What?" I tightened my fingers on the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white. "You…You can't bring that to the meetings."

"Why not?" He smiled, tilting the little bottle to his lips and my tongue was moving in my mouth sympathetically,

"Get out." I breathed.

"Oh, come on." He looked at me. "It's cold outside." He screwed the cap onto the bottle with a soft rasping sound. Metal on glass and I stared at it. "I'm sorry, Loren. I am."

I was breathing hard, watching him move that bottle slow, putting it away, back into his jacket. It was cold. I was cold. I was freezing inside and one drink, that wouldn't hurt. It was like medicine, that's all. A little bit of medicine to make that cold go away. I'd just have a little. I wouldn't even have that much, just a taste across my lips and…

I turned on the wipers and the window cleared. I hadn't made Nick get out and I tried to forget about the bottle in his pocket. I put the car in gear, shifting hard and I pulled away from the curb, into the light traffic. Passing the bar, and then another half a block down. Trying not to look. 

"St. Mary's?" I asked.

"Yeah." Nick smiled at me, watching me drive and I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye.

I was mad at him, or I wanted to be. I should have been. You didn't bring a bottle to an AA meeting. That was insane. There was something wrong with him, something wrong with me for letting him stay in my car. It was like letting the devil ride with me, giving me directions to hell. I should have pulled over and pushed him out. He had a bottle in his pocket.

"Something about schnapps…" He was opening it again. "…I like the peppermint, I guess." He chuckled softly and I heard his deep swallow.

"Please." I shook my head. "Don't do that."

"Do what, Loren?" He held the bottle casually in his left hand, sitting on his thigh just a few inches from the stick shift.

I reached for it, and dropped the car from third into second, pressing the accelerator hard as we hit a little hill, taking off like a rocket, that engine winding up, the rpm's deep in the red, doing fifty and then sixty in a thirty zone.

"Whoa." Nicked laughed. "Slow down, have a drink."

"I don't want a drink." I lied, coming to my senses, letting off the gas, shifting back up to third and letting us ride it for a block. 

This was an old part of town, big trees and wooden houses, big and dark, with big windows and tall shrubs. It was lonely and dark and a good place for a drink. No one would see us there. No one would know. My husband would never find out, not until after I was clean and healthy and free of it and then…

"Yeah you do." He told me. "It's okay, I got a lot of bottles at home. All kinds of bottles too. I got enough for all night, tomorrow. Enough for both of us, Loren."

"Shut-up." I swallowed hard. "Which way?"

"Up another street, take a left." Nick lifted the bottle, waving it around in front of me, pretending to give me directions with it.

I could smell it, underneath the peppermint, I didn't hardly notice that. I could smell the alcohol. It was sloshing around inside the pint, clear and evaporating, being wasted into the cold air. I could smell it and taste it…Almost.

"Hard not drinking, especially when there's no good reason." He said.

"What?" I was glancing down, back at the bottle and it was right there. Resting on his thigh again.

"Why can't you have a drink?" He asked. "It doesn't hurt. It just feels good. It doesn't make you bad. You're not a bad person, Loren."

"It's bad." I laughed derisively. "It is bad, you don't know."

"No, the other stuff is bad." He shook his head. "Other people are bad. Not you. One drink isn't going to hurt you, is it?"

Yeah, one drink. That wouldn't hurt at all. I didn't have to quit cold turkey, all at once. A little at a time. Just a drink tonight, a little one to send me home. I didn't have anything at home. Not even a bottle of wine. I'd be safe there, so it would be okay to have one drink here. I wouldn't have anymore…Just one.

"Six days." I took the turn.

"Six days. For what? So you can go home and watch television?" He laughed. "Watch your husband have a glass of sherry by the fire?"

"How far?" I slowed down, coming to a stop sign.

"Couple blocks." He shrugged. "What do you like Loren?"

"What?" I was sweating. 

It was too hot in the car, I'd left the defrost on and it was blowing hot air now, up and into my face. I reached for it, pushing the button, setting the heat lower, so it would warm my feet. They were cold and my face was sweating.

"Vodka?" Bourbon? A girl like you, yeah vodka I think. Straight too, right? It's better that way, makes everything better." He was nodding.

"No." I breathed.

"Don't lie, it's okay to admit it. You admitted everything at the meeting…" He reached over, stroking my bare thigh, sliding my skirt up and down.

"Don't touch me." I looked around us, at the houses as we passed them. "Which one?"

"You told us everything, Loren." He gave me a little squeeze and his hand was cool. "Except why."

"No reason." I glanced at him, at the bottle he was bringing to his lips, holding it in his right hand now. "Which house, Nick?"

"You must have started young, huh?" He smacked his wet lips. "What, thirteen? Fourteen? What happened, did your daddy make you do bad things? You can tell me, I'm here for you."

"Fuck you." I stopped the car, suddenly, pulling over to the side of the empty road and giving us a little jolt.

"What happened to you, Loren?" He didn't move, he just looked at me. "Did you get raped? Sexy little girl like you, it had to be good."

"No. Get out." I bit my lip.

"We're almost there." He pushed his bottle at me. "And this is almost gone. Have some before it's too late. Go on…"

"Six days." I told him.

"Like it never happened." Nick promised me. "Make it go away, Loren."

"Just go. Get out." I closed my eyes, pressing a hand to my chest. My heart hurt inside, like a cramp from beating too hard for too long.

I couldn't do this. I needed a phone, I need Earl. I needed this guy out of his car, I needed that bottle. It was just there, I could see it. Why was he doing this? What did he want? I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand, looking out the window, looking for his house. My stomach was churning, my blood rushing. I needed a drink. I didn't want it. I needed it.

"Come inside." He leaned closer, sliding his hand higher. "I'll give you all the booze you want Loren…"

"No." I shook my head.

"All you gotta do is let me see what you're hiding." He moved his hand up, spreading my legs before I realized it had happened, and he squeezed my sex roughly through my panties.

"Here…Let me help…" He put the bottle to my lips as I was about to scream. 

I closed my mouth and I was trying to close my legs, feeling his fingers pressed against me. I'd had a taste, a small one, just a drop on my lips and the desire exploded inside me. I'd grabbed his wrist and arm, the one with the bottle, and I was pushing at him, trying to make him stop, but he was strong and pressing the bottle hard and I closed my lips tight against it. I felt that liquid brushing my skin, unable to get into my mouth, it just waited there patiently for me.

"Shhhh…Good huh, Loren?" He was whispering, his mouth next to my ear.

I was giving up and opening my lips just as he pulled the bottle away, teasing me with it and I leaned forward, chasing it with my eyes and mouth until my seatbelt jerked me tight.

"Down here…Come on…See it?" He had an evident bulge now, a large swelling in his trousers and he lifted his hips slightly, rubbing the bottom of the bottle over and around it slowly, like he was masturbating or something.

"Fuck you…Fuck you…" I was shaking all over and I got his hand out from between my legs, throwing it away from me. 

"Yeah." Nick was laughing. "That's the idea, Loren…Fuck me…"

I was staring at the bottle while the man undid his pants and I barely noticed until he pressed it against his erect penis, like they were one and the same, rubbing them together. 

"I'm not going to fuck you." I shook my head and my mouth was so dry. 

I'd do anything for a drink, for a taste. No I wouldn't. I shook my head, closing my eyes. I'd do almost anything though. No, no...I held my breath, wincing at the pain in my chest. Like needles. My hands were trembling and I put them on the steering wheel. My calves ached from standing on the clutch and brake, but I barely noticed, I was so thirsty. 

"Why not?" He asked reasonably. "A girl like you, Loren. You've done it before. It didn't hurt."

"I'm married." I wet my lips with my tongue. "Six days…fuck you…Get out." I was breathing hard.

"You really want me to go?" He shrugged. "Don't want any of this?" He lifted the bottle and there was just a little at the bottom. He swirled it around in the dim light. "You sure?"

"You're sick." I whispered. 

"No, you're the one who's sick, Loren." He shook his head. "And here's your medicine, it'll make it stop. All of it. Aren't you tired of feeling like that yet?"

"Yeah…" I shivered, because I was. "No…I did this before. Two years." I lifted my eyes, staring into Nick's face. "I was sober two years."

"I know." He nodded. "It's okay."

"I can do it again." I told him, feeling some wetness starting in my eye because I wanted it so bad. 

I knew it would be okay. I'd just have that swallow at the bottom, that's all. I'd take the drink and he'd leave me alone after that. I wouldn't feel so thirsty. I wouldn't be shaking the way I was. I could go home and take a bath. I could make love to my husband. I'd take my medicine, just a little. I could do it. I'd been sober two years. I wasn't an alcoholic anymore.

"You can start tomorrow." Nick told me. "Not tonight."

"Yeah." I nodded.

"It's cold outside and you're so thirsty. Not tonight, tomorrow will be better. The sun will be up."

"No…Please…" I groaned, wiping my mouth with my hand. "Six days."

"A new day…A new you." He was touching me. "A new Loren, and you won't need this in the morning, it'll be…"

"Better." I closed my eyes for a second. "I'll be better tomorrow,"

"Yeah. Everything will better tomorrow." He gave me a reassuring smile. "Here…Come here…Give me what I want and I'll give you a drink…"

Nick reached over, turning the key in the ignition, shutting off the motor. It was quiet suddenly.

"My husband…" I closed my eyes, trying to remember what he looked like.

He didn't know anything, my husband trusted me. He trusted an alcoholic. He'd learn. I'd tell him. No, I couldn't tell him. I had to prove it. Thirty days, That's all I needed. I was six days looking at 24 more...That was forever. A lifetime. Thirty days. I wouldn't live that long. Not like this.

Nick pushed the button on my seatbelt, so that it snapped back a little, unlocked and freeing me. He kept that bottle next to his dark prick and I stared at it, not moving, not yet.

"Your husband doesn't know." Nick whispered. "He doesn't know what it's like, being thirsty, being sick…"

"He doesn't." I licked my parched lips. "He doesn't know anything."

"Come here now, it'll be okay…" He had his hand on my shoulders, pulling me closer, pulling me down, my mouth opening slowly for him. For the bottle. For the lies. And six days I'd never get back again, like those two years, gone forever.

"I hate you…" I said softly, as much to the bottle as the man.

"I know, Loren." Nick smiled. "I know."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
end
rache696@yahoo.com



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