Deep Inside (12 page)

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Authors: Polly Frost

BOOK: Deep Inside
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Naomi snorts. “The police are in the pocket of the tourist industry. They tell the visiting blood-drinkers where to find us.”

“What?”

“Granger, wake up! Sheriff Milnes is a blood-drinker,” she hisses.

“No way,” I insist.

“Viagra red is his favorite brew. He took a cup of mine before entering my parents' last orgy.” She runs her fingernails up and down my calf. “You must tell me how this scar came about.”

I sigh at the memory. “A month ago, two women stopped me while I was walking home. They were in a van. One had black hair. The other had red hair.”

Naomi is licking my scars now, looking up with glittering eyes.

“Are you okay?” I say.

“Oh yes,” she says. “I've never been better, in fact. Tell me the rest.” Her tongue returns to my leg.

“They said they'd driven thousands of miles to our town to find themselves a Viagra baby and did I know of any? I walked away. I knew I had to, but they drove up alongside me.

“‘You're one, aren't you?' the redhead said.

“The next thing I knew, the van stopped and they wrestled me into the back and roared off. We drove up to the lake. They threw me out and pushed me down between two logs. Then the black-haired woman pulled out a long knife and sliced my leg.

“The two women pushed my calf so the blood spurted out like it was a catsup bottle. They licked up every drop. Their mouths were smeared with blood, and then they kissed each other. It was like some fever took hold of them. I escaped while they were writhing on the ground together. They were animals. I just ran away.”

There are footsteps outside the closet. Naomi pulls down her skirt, I adjust my pants, and we walk out as though nothing was strange.

“Meet me at the pool at eight
P.M
. on Thursday,” she whispers, and walks away.

 

For two
days I hide the pills under my tongue, take them out after I leave Nurse Kohler's office, and put them in my wallet. I notice no change.

But Thursday morning I wake up with my first erection. It's huge, heavy, and hot. When I touch it I can't help groaning. I wait for it to go away but it doesn't. I can't take a leak standing up. I can't go to school with an erection. I can't even go downstairs to breakfast with an erection.

I call out to Alice that I'm sick and spend all day in my bedroom. Wild thoughts about violence and girls and beasts and creatures from video games swirl through my brain. I stand in front of the full-length mirror. My erection reaches farther up than my navel. Perhaps I can bring it down if I give myself one of those things they call an orgasm…but my knees buckle when I touch my cock. In torment, I throw myself down on the bed and nap. When I wake I find myself humping the pillow.

I wait
until I know that Alice is snoring in the recliner with the TV news on. I emerge from my room, take a shower, and put on my best jeans and a clean shirt. I remove a couple of hundred dollars and the car keys from Alice's purse.

It's a quiet, small-town Thursday night. I stop at a minimall and buy flowers for Naomi. I don't know why—I just feel the urge. Then I go to a record store and choose CDs of music I've heard Normals listen to. Music—it just seems like the moment for doom metal music.

At the cash register I hear familiar voices.

“What are you doing here, Granger?” It's Kristie. She stands with Clayton and a bunch of their friends. I hold the flowers in front of my crotch to hide the erection.

“Where are you going with these?” Clayton says, handling the CDs. “You know you can't listen to music. We could report you to the police if we wanted to.”

Kristie grabs the flowers. “How nice, Granger.” She spots my erection. “What's that there?” she shouts. Clayton and the others point at my crotch and gasp.

I grab the CDs and boom box, run out of the store, and jump into my car.

Kristie and Clayton are right behind me in his convertible. I turn left down an alley, right onto a back street, and then floor it through a red light. I've lost them.

I drive back streets to school, where I pull into the empty, dark parking lot. Sodium-vapor lights illuminate patches of empty asphalt. Around back, I see Naomi in the doorway to the gym's pool, and I hurry to her. She's dressed in jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt.

“I wasn't sure you'd have the guts,” she says.

“I ran into Clayton on the way here. Let's go someplace else—”

“You and I deserve to have fun the same way and at the same places the Normals do,” Naomi asserts.

And then her arms are around me and our tongues are in each others' mouths and our hearts are thumping like we've just run around the track.

We break apart, panting, and I hand her the flowers.

“The roses look amazing next to your pale skin,” I say. I don't know how I know to say these things.

She beams. “I bet you've had that hard-on since the middle of last night. Come here.”

She leads me over to an open window. I help her climb through it. Moments later, she opens the door to the gym pool. The blue light from the swimming pool plays against the walls and ceiling.

I move close to her.

She reaches for my pants and it makes me jump. I don't know why. “Steady now,” she says with a soft smile on her face. “It's okay.”

I relax a bit, and she unzips me. I groan as she reaches inside and takes hold of my cock. “My god but that's big, firm, and hot,” I hear her say, but then there's blood rushing through my ears and eyes and brains, and I'm gushing my soul out onto her hands in throbs of angry passion.

I catch my balance and try to breathe. She licks her hand and looks me in the eye.

“Is that okay?” I ask as my cock settles down.

“For a start,” she says.

Naomi strips off her T-shirt.

“Where'd you get that pink bra?” I stammer.

“I steal lingerie from the other girls' lockers during gym,” she says.

She slides off her jeans. She's wearing a G-string! My cock is enormous again. She walks over to me, and holds it.

“Wait,” I say. I want to last longer this time. I put a CD in the boom box. It's a slow song. I hold out my hand and we start to dance the way we've seen Normals do. We kiss, long and slow. We swim together naked for a few moments, then I lift her up onto the edge of the pool and part her legs. She pushes my hand into her pussy.

This time it doesn't feel anything like it did before. When my finger parts her folds and slips inside, I want to explore every bit of the slickness.

“You've got a major-league cock. And I've got a major league pussy,” she laughs. I feel her muscles tighten and pulse and twist wetly and snakily around my finger. Her cunt is dancing just for me.

“There they are! I knew they'd be here!” We look up. It's Kristie.

She and Clayton and their friends have brought the police. They point their guns at us. We know enough not to fight. We put on our clothes and let them handcuff us.

“They think they're Normal or something coming to this pool to fuck. Like there's any other place in town to do it,” Clayton says.

Kristie gives him a dirty look and I hear her loudly whisper, “Shut up, asshole, or you'll give our secret place away.”

Naomi and
I are behind the bars of Sheriff Milnes's jail. We're separated.

The fat, gray-haired sheriff leads Naomi down the hallway to his office. She stares at me as she passes by. I'm afraid for her, and I try to make eye contact.

The sheriff barks at her, “Keep your slutty eyes on the floor!”

The prisoners across the hall lick the bars of their cells.

I feel a punch on my arm. I turn to face my cellmate.

“I just got arrested for murder,” he tells me. “So I don't care if I'm caught sipping the last blood out of you.”

He throws me against the wall, tears off my pants. I feel his teeth on my left butt cheek. I clench my teeth from the pain.

I hear a loud clank.

“There'll be none of that,” Nurse Kohler is saying.

Sheriff Milnes is at her side. “You won't tell Sam about this?” he asks worriedly.

 

I ride
in the backseat of Sam Jason's limo. Nurse Kohler sits facing us. Naomi sleeps by my side, curled up on the black leather seat. The nurse has bandaged up Naomi's wrist where Sheriff Milnes cut her. The chauffeur pulls out of the police station and drives along the town streets. It is Friday afternoon. The town passing by looks different, like everything has changed.

“Thank you for bailing us out,” I say to Nurse Kohler.

“It's Sam Jason you should thank. As soon as your capture hit the local news, he was on the phone with the police department. He paid the million-dollar bail for the two of you. You're considered dangerous sex criminals, you know,” Ms. Kohler says.

I stroke Naomi's hair. Her face looks peaceful, like a little girl. “Everything will be all right from now on,” I whisper to her.

I straighten up, let Naomi sleep.

“I'm glad I'll finally have a chance to thank Mr. Jason for his research. And for saving us,” I say to Nurse Kohler.

For the first time I register that the nurse is a good-looking woman even though she's pushing forty. She's not wearing her nurse's uniform. She's wearing a white business suit that shows off her tanned skin and is unbuttoned farther than I'd have expected.

“Are we going to have to be on medication again?” I ask.

“No,” Ms. Kohler says. “Sam Jason doesn't believe in medicating you Viagras.”

We pass the high school.

“Don't worry,” she says. “We won't make you go there anymore.”

Naomi stirs.

“She'll be okay,” Nurse Kohler says. “She needs to rest.” Then Nurse Kohler looks angry. “I wish she'd told me about her foster family being blood-drinkers! Sam won't like that.”

“I hope they're punished for what they did to her,” I say.

“You bet they will be. And they won't ever be able to adopt another baby. I'll see to that myself.”

We turn up the road that leads to the highest point in town. I see the lights of the mansion on top of it.

“I can't wait to meet Sam Jason,” I say. “I have so much to thank him for. But at ninety Mr. Jason must need to conserve his energy, so I promise not to overtax him.”

She laughs. “Sam Jason has more energy at ninety than men a third his age!”

A guard stands at a security station, waves at us, and gates open. After another mile, we pull up to the house. I'm surprised; it's a glassy modern box. Two men in uniforms open the car doors and take Naomi from the backseat. Nurse Kohler and I follow them into the house.

Inside, it's all steel, glass, and spare furniture. The main room is more like a club lounge than a dignified rich person's living room. Thumping, driving music plays over concealed speakers.

“Wow, I can't imagine an old person living in a place like this,” I say.

Nurse Kohler gives me a look. She's flirting with me! She takes my arm and we follow the men, who carry Naomi down a hallway.

The walls are lined with bright color photos. In each one, the same white-haired man stands with his arm around a beautiful young woman, always a different one. Cities, beaches, deserts, tropics—he's traveled all over the world, and in each place, he's apparently had a different girlfriend.

“Sam has quite a sexual appetite,” Nurse Kohler says.

“At ninety?”

“Gets stronger every year,” she says. “I should know.”

She sees my shocked face.

“Oh come on, Granger. Just because I'm your high school nurse doesn't mean I've given up on sex!” She steps closer and her hand grabs my crotch. “The thought turns you on. You can't tell me it doesn't, because I can feel that it does.” She's right.

We follow the men into a guest bedroom. They put Naomi down on a large black satin bed.

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