Liz - a Troubled Girl

A dirty and troubled girl

As with all of my stories, this one is a true accounting of something that happened when I'd foolishly invited a woman to move in with me; A woman that I soon learned had issues. This occurred about 15 years ago:

It was a long distance relationship and, by "long distance" I mean we lived about 5 hours apart. It was the classic mistake. I'd met her on line and we agreed to meet half way. At first, she seemed great, lots of fun, easy going, things in common, and a very nasty girl. I honestly don't know if I have some "power" to tell when a woman has a dirty side or if I bring it out in them or if it's just been dumb luck. But it seems like most of the women I've dated (and finally married) have a nasty side. Good for me!

Anyway, after nearly a year of seeing each other about once a month I asked her to move in with me. She sold her place (a double wide on 5 acres). She had horses and was deliriously excited about moving onto a real ranch and working cattle.

A few months after she'd moved in I discovered she had a drug problem that, before then, I honestly had no idea existed. Opioids! As the months went by she gradually went off the deep end! Eventually she was drugged out every chance she got.

The ranch was about 20 miles from a very small town and several hours to the nearest town of any size. Once I'd realized she was on drugs (I'd never seen the stuff before) I had no idea where or how she was getting it -- this was a very small (less than 2000 people) cowboy town. I couldn't imagine how she was getting it, or who from, but she was getting it and apparently she was getting a lot of it. She was burning through the money she'd gotten from selling her place.

After talking to her family, I learned that she'd had an off and on problem with drugs for many years. She'd made a major effort to hide that from me and, since we only saw each other for a long weekend, every month or so, I just didn't know her as well as I thought I did. I had a big problem. She was getting worse and worse, neglecting her horses, mixing booze with pills and had developed a hell of a temper. When she got loaded she got very horny and a really dirty side came out of her. It was good for me, but not worth the price I had to pay.

Sure, I enjoy my whiskey, maybe a few beers once in a while, but I've never been a hard drinker -- never an every day thing and, other than a little smoke once in awhile, I've never done any other drugs, of any kind. It took me a LOT longer than you'd think to get rid of her. She had no place to go. Eventually she'd blown ALL of her money on those damn pills, her family had dealt with these "episodes" before and none of them would take her. I spoke with her Dad on the phone one night, explaining everything and asking for help. His answer was "we've dealt with this for years and I'm sorry to tell you this, but she's your problem now" and he hung up. Honestly, those were his exact words "She's your problem now..." It was a huge mess. I finally got rid of her, but it wasn't easy -- I couldn't just drop her off on the side of the road someplace. Though, in retrospect, it doesn't seem like such a bad idea now.

After I'd thrown her out and it seemed like I was finally rid of her ass, a couple months later she showed back up at my door. She'd screwed me over royally, cost me a bunch of money sending her to rehab only to have her fall "off the wagon" within a couple of weeks. She'd stolen important things from me, so she could pawn them and buy fucking drugs! Lets just say I wasn't happy to see her. When she showed up she was totally fucking broke! I have no idea how she even got the gas money to get there.

She tried to hit me up with a hard luck story, hoping I'd give her money. She cried when I told her NO and told her to go the fuck away! Then she tried coming on to me, thinking if she threw me a few fucks and sucks I might give her a little cash.

Despite being horny as hell, there was no way I was going to touch her. By then, who knew where her mouth and pussy had been. I'd come to realize she'd been pretty "loose" before I met her and I was lucky she didn't give me something that'd make my dick fall off.

It seems to be a repetitive pattern with these stories (which are honestly all true, to the very best of my recollection) - but somehow I've nearly always wound up with nasty girls -- often I couldn't tell it from outward appearances or actions. Maybe I make them that way. Who knows? But I can say, on a percentage basis, I've wound up with more than my share of girls that had a really nasty/dirty side. In fact, in my experience, outward appearances rarely have that much to do with what kind of girl (sexually) is on the inside.

When I was younger I went out with a couple of chicks that dressed like total sluts. Hot looking chicks, tight pants, low cut tops, make-up, looking for all the world like they'd fuck your brains out -- and they turned out to be vanilla duds in bed. Then, there was one chick, I was about 21 when I met her skiing one day. She was just slightly overweight -- sort of soft looking, beautiful creamy complexion, rosy cheeks, just sweeter than peach-pie when you talked to her. She invited me over to dinner the next night. When I showed up she was dressed in a nice, but conservative dress and lived in a modest but very nicely kept little cottage with flowers out front, the whole thing.

She made me a nice dinner and we shared a bottle of wine. Later, after she'd broken out the whiskey and gotten a few drinks in her, this rosy cheeked girl with a pink complexion and almost no makeup was one of the nastiest chicks you could imagine -- just about killed me -- not just sexual appetite -- there was nothing she wouldn't do -- or beg me to do to her. I crawled outta her house the next morning completely worn out and drained. So, outward appearances aren't always what the book is about, you never know what's inside, until you have a look...

But Liz was always a nasty girl. She was a pretty girl, but she had that glint in her eye. Way back, long before this time, when we'd first gotten together, after we'd spent maybe 3 weekends together -- and after another 3 days of mostly screwing - we were laying in bed, just talking. She'd seemed willing to let me do anything I wanted to do to her -- hell she usually encouraged it -- begged for it sometimes. I wanted to know what her "interests" were, so I just asked her: "So, what do you like, what turns you on, what little kinks do you have, what would you like me to do that I haven't, or haven't done enough of, and what don't you like?" I'm usually a pretty direct guy and, we'd just screwed and she'd taken it in the ass, so there weren't too many inhibitions between us at that particular moment.

She just looked at me and very mater-of-factly, like we were talking about the weather, she said: "You can do anything you want to me. You can call me anything you want. You can fuck me in the ass, you can cum in my mouth, you can cum on my face, you can tie me up, you can tear my clothes -- you can do any damn thing you want to me." Then she paused for a few seconds and said "I mean anything you want, just don't leave visible marks!" It was weird. I could tell by the way she said it, that she meant it. But the tone was just kind of - Ok, here's the facts... No emotion, no intonation, just dirty innuendo and "here's the deal." And the way she phrased it -- she didn't say "we can do" or "I like it when..." nope, she said "You can do anything YOU want TO ME -- just don't leave visible marks!"

Then she said "and blowjobs are always free."

I wasn't really sure what she meant, so I asked "what the hell does that mean?" Again, like we were talking about the weather, with just a little giggle she said, "anytime you want, just whip it out and I'll suck you dry." I know, I know, it sounds weird and made-up but I swear that it's all true -- her exact words were "anytime you want, just whip it out and I'll suck you dry."

And she meant it. I could be sitting on my big over-stuffed chair, reading a magazine and if the urge hit me, or even if it didn't and I wasn't even sure I could get it up, if unzipped and pull my pants down, when she saw it she'd walk right over, kneel and start sucking. It didn't matter how long it took, she'd stick with it until she got a mouthful of cum or I sent her away saying "I guess it's not going to happen."

For some inexplicable reason, I didn't do it as often as you'd think -- but whenever I whipped it out, she'd smile and start sucking. In the whole time I knew her, I probably only did that less than a dozen times. Which is weird because, like most guys, I absolutely love blowjobs. I guess it was the total lack of any foreplay -- just pull my dick out and she'd start sucking. I like a little more lead-in than that. She offered it up, she meant it, but I probably only took her up on it a dozen or so times -- go figure...

So, back to the story, after not seeing her for months, here she was at my house. I'd hoped I'd never see her again, but there she was. Stoned -- not terribly gone, but stoned on who knows what. When she told me her latest hard luck story and asked for money, I said no! We talked on the front porch for awhile, but I wouldn't let her in the house. So, she sat on the front lawn and made phone calls until I went out and told her "time to go -- you need to get off my property - now." It was a warm summer evening and a little later, as it was getting near dark -- probably about 9:00 or so, I decided to go down to a local bar, shoot a few games of pool and have a couple beers. I didn't get TV where I lived, so it was a place to go socialize a little. The place wasn't a favorite. It was just kind of a stark bar, missing that "home bar" feeling. But it was close by, so very occasionally I'd go shoot pool there.

When I walked out the door, I hopped in my truck and as I head out the drive, I was surprised to see her still on the ranch, down by the horse barns. I'd heard her start up her truck, so I assumed she was gone -- but she'd just moved down by the barn, so I couldn't hear what she was saying on the phone. I hopped out of the truck and told her, in a very clear voice "I'm serious, you need to get in your truck and leave".

Her reply was "I can't, I don't have enough gas to even get back to town and I don't have any money."

I made her give me her keys. I turned on the ignition and sure enough, she had less than ¼ of a tank. Then I made her empty her purse (I seriously did this) she had a few dollars and some change. I searched her little ½ ton pickup, then I searched her suitcase -- nothing, no money stashed anywhere. Why she spent her last dollars getting to my house, I'll never know. I guess by then she'd burned everybody else and she thought I'd be a soft touch. I knew better than to leave her at my house, unsupervised, so I put her in my truck and took her to the bar with me; secretly hoping some guy would pick her up and then she'd become his problem.

As she'd fallen deeper and deeper into the clutches of Oxy, she'd started dressing sluttier and sluttier. She was maybe 5'2", 110 -115 lbs, little tits but they were firm and very sensitive. She was a pretty girl -- or at least she was before that Oxy got fully ahold of her. She was wearing a very sheer shirt that buttoned up the front. There were designs on it, so you had to look a little. But, when you did, her bare tits (she almost never wore a bra) were right there, for everybody to see. I didn't notice how see-through her shirt was until we were about half way to the bar. I made some comment about her looking slutty - she had also started wearing much heavier makeup than when we first got together -- probably to hide her deteriorating looks. She said something like "what do you care what I look like?" And, she was right - I didn't really care.

It was all pretty strange. Once we got in the bar, there was something about the lighting, but her little shirt suddenly looked very sheer and her little titties were very visible! I ordered us both a drink, left her at the bar, and I went over to the pool table. Of course, she drank hers in about 2 minutes. Then she got another, then another. I didn't go there often, but the bartender knew me well enough, and would run a tab for me, so since she came in with me, he was feeding her drinks, on my tab -- he didn't know not to, and she was looking nasty and hot and I guess I couldn't blame him.

After she was on her 4th drink I moved her over to the pool table, where I could keep an eye on her. It was a weeknight and I didn't go to the bar very often -- and on the rare occasion that I did it was usually on a weekend night. So, it was a different crowd during the week; mostly barflies and mill workers. I was shooting 9-ball with a few guys I didn't know. We were playing for $5 bucks on the 9 and nothing on the 5 ball - just a friendly game for a few bucks. Then one of the guys bought her another drink -- he bought me a beer too -- just to keep things cool. He had no way of knowing I wouldn't give a shit if he took her out back and fucked her. When I noticed him leering at her, I remember thinking that very thing. Then, an idea hit me.

The guy who bought the drinks wasn't part of the little group I was playing 9-ball with, but he had his quarters up - so I hunkered down and made sure I won the game. He looked like he was probably a pretty hard drinker -- as an old friend of mine used to say "a professional." When he stepped up to the table and started racking, he talked it up, like he was a pretty hot-shot player. But, I could tell from the way he handled the balls and rack that he wasn't. I could also tell he was pretty well drunk! So I said "how about we shoot for $10?" He'd already put on the act about what a great player he was, so he had no choice but to agree.

I won't go into details, because it has no bearing on this story. But, 9-ball is a tricky game and they can go fast. You don't want to let the other guy get ahead if you can help it. But, after I broke and followed my shot, I missed on purpose. I wanted to see what he had. Which, as it turned out, wasn't much. I stretched the game out for a few shots, then I went ahead and beat him. As I've said in previous Jamie stories, I'm no hustler, but I am a pretty good pool player and by this point in my life I was quite a bit better than most guys in a bar, especially at 9-ball.

Once we'd jumped the game to $10 bucks the other guys dropped out. Which was what I'd hoped they'd do. While the guy I'd just beat was racking, I went over to Liz and told her I had a way for her to make a few bucks, if she wanted. She was pretty well drunk and still had oxy in her system, so she wasn't completely with the program when I was talking to her. And, when she drank, she could get bitchy, even on her good nights. She was like "yeah, what the hell do you want me to do?" I was immediately pissed at her, just from the way she said it. I should have just taken another $10 off the guy and left her there, for the vultures, but I didn't. When she looked at me with that smart-assed stoned expression I'd grown to hate, it made the decision easy.

So I told her "look, I can probably get a few guys in here to give you $20 bucks a pop if you'll give em' a blowjob."

She looked at me, her eyes narrowed and she said "What, fuck no, I'm not doing that."

"Well, it's your choice. But I'm serious, I'm not going to give you any money --not a dime - and you're not staying at my house tonight, you've still got that restraining order and I'll call the cops." You're gonna need money to get home, or back to wherever the fuck you've been staying and I know you need money -- so if you wanna make a few quick bucks, I'll see if I can set it up."

"Fuck no!" she said. "I'm not going to blow these guys for $20 bucks." She said it pretty loud and I looked around to see if anybody had heard her. I couldn't see how they didn't hear her, but nobody was showing it. So, I shushed her and told her to keep her voice down.

I said "fine, I don't give a shit, but you're not staying at my house tonight -- and if you don't leave, I'm calling the cops and you'll go to jail." She had a restraining order against her and was not allowed to go onto my property at all, for any reason. She'd already violated it once and had been arrested, spent a night in the can, and the next day the judge told her if she defied the court again, she'd do 30 days. I'm pretty sure he meant it.

"So, if you want a few bucks, I'll try to help you out. But I really don't give a shit, I just think it'd be fun to watch you do it." I knew that would piss her off when I said it, but I really did think it'd be fun to watch her demean herself, getting on her knees, blowing a couple low-life barflies for a few bucks. After what she'd done to me, she deserved it.

She just stared at me, her mouth slightly agape, looking at me like she was trying to wrap her mind around the whole thing. Before she could say anything I told her "No worries, I'll just take another $10 spot off this guy and leave you here -- you're not going to wake up tomorrow morning, at my house, broke and hung-over, with no way to get home -- no way that's happening --I'm going to leave you here and if you're lucky one of these guys will take you home, fuck the shit out of you, and you'll still be broke and stuck -- I'm serious Liz, I'm fucking done with you!" I'm sure a few people heard me say that and I wished I'd been a little quieter,

She thought about it for about 10 seconds -- just as I started to turn and walk away she said "do you think I could get $40 bucks?" I laughed a little snicker at her and said "you'll probably be lucky if you don't have to do it for a 10 spot." I could see her face flush with anger, but she swallowed it and didn't say another word. I walked away. When I got to the pool table I looked back at her -- I looked her right in the eye and she just nodded her head, slowly, with a look of resignation.

So, I went over to the guy, grabbed my glass of Jack and said to him, like we were friends "ya see that chick sitting over there?"

Before I cold finish he laughed and said "I've been looking at her all night, how could I not see her? But she's with you, right?"

I told him "No, we're just sort of friends. She's broke and needs some money." He just stared at her and didn't say a word.

So, I went on "so, here's the deal. I'll play you another game and if I win, you still owe me $10 bucks." He moved his eyes from Liz to mine, with a confused look -- then I said "but if I loose and you give her $20 bucks, she'll take you out back and give you the best blowjob you've ever had."

The guy looked at me with a "guppy look" on his face -- his mouth sort of open, his lips pooched out and round -- then he stared over at Liz again. At some point her blouse had come unbuttoned another button. I honestly don't know if she did it after I'd spoken to her and she was using it as bait, or if it'd happened earlier and I hadn't noticed. Regardless, the effect was strong and he immediately started nodding his head yes and finished with "hell yeah."

This bar had once been a pretty good place. It had a stage and a dance floor, seating, two pool tables and a nice long bar. Out back there was a beer garden, a big fire-pit and a few picnic tables. Except it'd become run-down and neglected. There hadn't been anything going on in the beer garden for a long time and I never did see a band there. But, I'd heard it was once a rocking place -- but no more -- it was a big bar, with few people and everything was pretty tired and worn out.

So, we played pool and I tried not to make it too obvious I was throwing the game. Which, honestly, wasn't that easy. The guy kept staring at Liz and her low-cut and very see-through shirt. After no small effort on my part, I managed to put him in position and he sunk the 9-ball. At that point, I wasn't sure if any of the other guys had heard my deal with this guy or not.