This is an edited submission. The original was a double post and this corrects that error.
As always, please take the time to rate and if you have the time leave comments.
Thanks,
Al
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It was cold, well, as cold as the Dallas area gets in the middle of January. Temperatures fell from the mid 50's after sunset, to the low 40's as I headed over to my brother Jim's house. I had borrowed dad's little red Ford Escort for the drive to their apartment in Richardson from Allen.
Getting the address had proven to be something of a problem and it took four of my fifteen days of leave to get it. It was a process of finding his best friend, who was living at a halfway way house, recently paroled for drug possession. Then convincing him to divulge the address and that required cash. I guess the only people poorer than a single E-4 in the Army was a druggy. It took a day to get the money because my bank was overseas.
The reason I couldn't get Jim's address from our folks was that while I was stationed abroad, he had become estranged from our parents due to the combination of drug usage and the woman he was shacking up with. I didn't know which pissed my parents off more, the drugs or Siouxie, as she called herself. But between the two, or because of the two, they all but disowned him. With that, they stopped keeping track of him.
I stopped and picked up a bottle of Jim Beam, a case of Busch beer and a carton of Tareyton 100's cigarettes. He and I had a lot to talk about, and given what I knew, the least of his issues were alcohol related. Besides if he loosened up maybe I could get to the real issues between him and our parents.
Arriving at the apartment complex, I sat in front of the building smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer, taking in the sight.
The apartments at best were run down, and could be more accurately described as a rat infested tenement. If rats had poor enough judgment to live there. The sidewalks were cracked to hell, the parking lot had ruts and the parking spaces had hollows where the tires went. The buildings were washed out gray with damaged siding. It wouldn't have surprised me to see that there were shingles missing from the roofs. The one dumpster I could see was overflowing with refuse and the mounds around it probably rivalled some mountains in height.
Sighing, I got out of the car and grabbed the beer and bourbon. I wrapped on the door sharply twice and waited. Hearing no response, a minute later I kicked the door twice making it rattle on the hinges, and yelled, "Open up you miserable bastard!"
As I was about to kick the door again, when it creaked open and Jim stood there in his underwear. His reed like cock pressed out in his tighty whities and his expressive face flowed from outrage to shock, "Joe?"
I nodded, "Let me in Jim, I brought drinks; besides, it's cold as fuck out here."
He opened the door and I slipped past him. The carpet was at best described as threadbare. It was thin, the backing weave apparent in spots. It once was beige, maybe, but now was a mottled morass of browns and rust. A broken down couch sat to the right, a cheap aluminum and plastic dinette set to the left. Past that was a small galley kitchen with a yellowed refrigerator visible.
It took half a second for me to decide not to sit on the couch, so, I headed to the dinette set and pulled one of the shitty chairs around in front of the couch.
"What were you doing, fist fucking yourself?"
Her face became almost sly as he replied, "No, I was in bed with Siouxie fooling around."
I cracked open a beer and chugged from the Jim Beam bottle directly as I made myself comfortable, or as comfortable as possible on the wobbly chair. I quipped, "Sure you were. Probably a picture of this month's playmate."
Jim sat in the middle of the couch, and sank maybe six inches into it. He stared at my bottle and beer a moment before asking, "Are you going to share those?"
"That is why I bought a case. To share."
He stood up and carried the case to the fridge and came back with a beer for himself and two glasses, which appeared almost clean. He filled the glasses, handed one to me and sat back down.
I looked around at the nicotine stained walls, the floor and the dilapidated furniture. "What the fuck happened to you Jim?"
As he was shrugging, a petite brunette came from the back of the apartment. Shoulder length reddish brown hair, light brown eyes, freckles across both cheeks and nose were the major components that made a vixen like face. Comparisons to Reba MacIntyre would have been appropriate. She wore a bathrobe that was far too large for her, as it engulfed her tiny frame, hiding everything about her.
"Who are you?" She asked in a voice that was ethereal and almost musical. I realized what Jim saw in her.
Jim responded, "This is my brother, Joe."
She graced me with a lovely smile and said, "So the little brother comes home?"
I ignored her and looked at Jim, "Mom and Pop are none too happy with you."
He sniffed and shrugged, "They don't like my choices."
I nodded, "So I hear. What happened? Last I knew, you were off to the Army and I followed so you could make a little rank. Before I graduated basic, Mom wrote, telling me that you were home."
He shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. He looked at me a moment and before he could say anything, Siouxie sat on his left leg, one of hers on each side of his. The robe split open and I was graced with a view along her thighs which were toned and strong looking. Looking down her legs, I could see her calves were toned and powerful. The view didn't quite go all the way up to her pussy, but it was close enough to keep my attention, at least part of the time.
Finally he said, "I told one of the drill sergeants to fuck off. When he tried to discipline me, I told him off again."
He looked at Siouxie, almost as if he was seeking strength, "When he got in my face, I kneed him in the balls."
My eyebrows had to have shot up and I asked, "No jail time in Leavenworth?"
He barked out a laugh and said, "No. Special court-martial, loss of rank, loss of pay, and other than honorable discharge."
I nodded, "You got off easy. What have you been doing since?"
"A lot of coke, Joe."
I glanced at Siouxie and wondered if her legs had parted some more? I shook my head, "Why, Jim? Why the coke? Her?"
Dulcet laughter rang through the living room as she said, "Fuck no. I won't touch that shit."
It came out before I could catch it, "Good girl."
She gave me a look that seemed to suggest that while not offended, she hadn't expected that response.
Turning back to Jim, "What do you have to say?"
He shrugged, "It doesn't matter anymore and I don't know really."
I sat there looking at him and eventually nodded. "Okay."
We talked about things that had been going on since we had last seen each other. His life had turned to shit, mine was comfortably militarily normal. Jim looked like a man defeated, and was just realizing how badly he had his ass handed to him.
About a half hour later, three beers and a glass of bourbon, Siouxie stood up and headed to the back of the apartment. Jim watched her for a couple of steps and when she was out of sight asked, "Fucking hot, isn't she?"
I shrugged and replied, "She is okay, I guess. Kind of hard to tell in your robe. Great voice though."
