Read Online Juicy by Pepper Pace - Free Book Online Page B

bats!

"Juicy, fix your bra before you go out." He called just before she shut the door soundly behind her.

Juicy blew out a long breath and hurried down to the basement.

'Ohmygodohmygodohmygod...' she chanted. 'I just fucked a crazy homeless man. OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD... '

Juicy dumped the bundle into the first washer and when her arms were free she covered her face with her hands. 'I AM in a vegetative state. I got hit in the head, I was in a coma and I'm no longer of sound mind and body.' Juicy began to pace. Absently she adjusted her bra. Her left breast felt full and sensitive from Troy's attention. Juicy closed her eyes and covered her breasts with the palms of her hands. But Lordie did he know how to work on some titties, not to mention making her cum like that. What man had ever wanted to kiss her for nearly an hour?

Juicy rubbed the sweat away from her forehead. She reminded herself that Troy was his name; not a homeless guy, or Mr. Cracker. He was Troy. And Troy had done so much good and not one thing bad. And why exactly was she looking down her nose at him? Who was she to look down her nose? Who the hell was she?!

Juicy hung her head down low then she picked up the fallen coins and dropped them into the slot of the washer. She poured detergent over the clothes and started the wash cycle on hot. Slowly she began walking back up the stairs smoothing her hands over her pants. Her panties felt soaked from...her throat went dry.

When she entered the apartment she heard the shower going. In relief she went to the fridge and although she wanted a stiff drink, she settled for a bottled water. She sat down on her black fur couch reclining her head back.

The bathroom door opened a few moments later and Troy stepped out with a towel wrapped around his waist. Her eyes scanned his form. Instantly she forgot about her previous thoughts in her admiration of him. Troy's stomach was flat and well muscled. Where did homeless guys work out?

He spotted her on the couch and came over to sit across from her on the red ottoman.

"Are you okay?" He asked with a bit of trepidation.

"Yes. I am." She offered him a tentative smile. She tried to think of something nice, something positive. “I...uhm...wanted to tell you that you made me feel really...good."

He smiled and sighed. "I could tell. Likewise, in case you couldn't tell."

"Troy, I'm really sorry about yelling at you that day. I was wrong, and I was rude. I'm so thankful that you didn't hold that against me and that you helped me anyway."

Troy's eyes grew wide. "Oh, Juicy, I could never just sit back and listen to another person being hurt. That's just not my way."

"Then there should be more people like you, Troy."

He shook his head and looked away.

"So, does my home really make you nervous?"

After a few moments of thought Troy looked at her. "Yes, because it represents a trap."

Juicy inhaled a deep breath and before jumping to any conclusions about the state of his mind she continued. "How is it a trap?"

"Because...if I used my social security check to pay for an apartment, or house or whatever...then yeah, there's money enough for that. But who has just a house? You have utilities because you have to have lights, heat, electricity. Right?"

"Right."

"And then you have to have something to sleep on, something to sit on—and then that's a third of your check. Why spend a third of your check to have your own place, only to walk in there and it gives you no comfort. Right?"
     
    "Okay, I agree."

"So you see where the trap comes in, Juicy? By the time the average American creates a home that makes them comfortable, they're in debt. My social security check doesn't give me enough to live up to the standards expected of me by society!"

She could see Troy getting passionate about the discussion. She listened without judging. He started counting off on his fingers. "Television isn't good enough, then you need cable or satellite. Telephone is not enough because then you