Once again my editor "Wires" has worked wonders with one of my stories. I want to thank him for his efforts to make this story more readable. As usual, however, the errors that remain are solely mine.
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Alfred Thomas was startled awake from his sleep by heavy pounding on the door of his small apartment. When he roused from his drunken stupor, sprawled across his queen sized bed, his heart was pounding as badly as was his head. The sun was streaming in through the south facing windows in the small apartment he and his grandfather built for him over his grandfather's old, detached, two car garage. As his eyes opened he was further moved to wakefulness by a kick and the slam of a small fist in his chest when the small woman sleeping with him was also awakened. When Al moved his stomach rolled and he felt acid reflux in his throat. Al clenched his jaws to keep the bile and sour beer from spewing out of his stomach onto the floor of his admittedly not very clean apartment.
The two half asleep, half drunken, and completely scared people in the bed were tangled together in each other's arms and legs as well as in the damp sheets. Al glanced at the thermometer showing the outside temperature when he felt how sweaty he was. According to his thermometer it was already 95 degrees Fahrenheit outside his abode.
Al turned his attention to his bed partner next. The beautiful young woman's breasts and neck were covered with love bites, hickies and whisker burns. Her little pussy gaped open and a white substance seeped from it. The cheeks of her ass and her thighs had a crusty substance on them as did the small tuft of pubic hair at the top of her pussy. There were dark circles around her bloodshot eyes. Angel Moore looked at Al with worry on her face. She muttered, "Who the hell is that? OH, GOD, you don't think it's Daddy do you?" She grabbed the covers and started to pull them over her but they were too entangled with both bodies to adequately cover her nudity.
Al groaned as he looked at the woman in his bed. He listened once again to the pounding on his door. His mouth was cottony. He was sick, weak, and shaking. Part of his shakiness was the fear or shock from waking to the pounding on his door. Part of his problem was the copious amounts of cheap beer he, his friends, and his last night's entertainment, consumed during and after the party they attended. Damn, he felt like shit. He had only been sober one morning in the last five days since graduating from high school. It didn't matter that both the people in the bed were only 18 and too young to drink legally. Some form of alcohol was always available if you were willing to pay and knew the right people.
Al finally croaked out, "What?" He slowly, painfully moved to sit on the edge of his bed. He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned on his bracing arms, head hanging. He wasn't sure he wasn't going to have to make a run to his small bathroom and throw up. The world was spinning and his stomach was rolling from the alcohol still in his system. He had worse shakes than he could remember ever having before after a night of drinking and partying.
After Al responded to the noise coming from the door it swung open and his grandfather stormed into the apartment. He immediately moved though the small living room and into the bedroom. Don Thomas noted instantly the state of health of his grandson and the latest slut to spread her legs for him. He was somewhat surprised the woman was with Al in his bed. He expected him to be alone. Normally, Al didn't bring his women back to the farm. Don was further surprised when recognition hit him and he recognized the nude woman trying to cover herself and hide. Her head was hanging low; her face was crimson from her embarrassment.
Don let his gaze linger on the young woman for a moment longer then turned his attention to Al. He said, "Damn it, boy, this crap has to stop and I mean right now. Your boss called a few minutes ago. He wanted to know where you were again. He said this was the third time this week you didn't call or come in to work. He fired you son. He said not to even come back for your last pay check. He'll mail it to you. I come to check on you and find you in bed with the preacher's daughter. What the hell's wrong with you, boy? You can't go through life like this. You get Angel home and get your ass back here. We need to have a long talk, son."
Al felt his temper surge. He glared at his grandfather and said, "Ok, Ok. Just give me a minute will ya? Jeeze."
Don glared at the couple once again and turned without further speech. When he left the bedroom he closed the door on them. He didn't exactly slam the door, but he did close it very vigorously. It was obvious to Al that Gramps was pissed. He felt the fear knot in his belly. Gramps was local Golden Gloves champion when he was young and he still knew how to box. If anything, he was stronger now than he was then. Gramps also ruled his domain with an iron fist. Oh, he wasn't mean or anything, but he WAS the boss. After Al's parents died and he moved to live with his grandparents, it didn't take Gramps long to correct Al's attitude. For a couple of years gramps kept Al on a short leash. If Al followed the rules and did his homework and chores it was all fine, life was good. If he disobeyed or failed to do his assignments for school or complete his chores correctly at home, punishment was sure and swift. Gramps believed strongly in "spare the rod and spoil the child" discipline. Al could still feel some of his spankings in his mind.
Like many young people who grew up in the country Al was strong from physical labor. He also had somewhat of an attitude that many rural boys seemed to carry. Pride was oozing out of his pores and disrespectβactual or perceived-was not tolerated. Unfortunately, Al had yet to earn much respect from the adults in the community and they treated him with much disrespect, even loathing, because of the way he bedded many of the young women and a few of the wives in the area. Al was a typical modern teen. He liked to play first and work only when he couldn't get out of it. He knew his grandfather loved him but he was equally positive he did not show him the respect Al thought he deserved. After all, Al was tough and mean. He won all the fights he ever got into with boys his own age.
Al stood and felt his stomach lurch once again. He swayed then staggered into his bathroom to clean up. Just before he turned on the shower he said to Angel, "Sounds like Gramp is pissed. You need to get dressed and I'll run you home soon's I finish my shower here. If you want to clean up first you'll have to hurry."
Angel threw the sheet off and began to move around the room looking for her clothes. She moved slowly, sick and in pain. She, too, felt her stomach lurch from the alcohol imbibed the night before. She was thirsty, so thirsty. Angel didn't see her clothes in the bedroom so bent and looked under the bed. They weren't there either.