Story time #3

Sunset in Utah was hidden by the cliffside walls that curved off into the never ending 80. We sat outside in the laxed breeze, smoking cigarettes on the hood of my car. I kicked the bumper, “this thing eats gas like no other.”

She laughed and smoke wheezed out of her nostrils in short frothy spurts. I was tired. “Why did we take your truck when we could've taken my sedan? We could've had AC, good gas mileage, and a radio. I'll be surprised if the engine doesn't rattle itself to bits before we get through the Rockies. I'm waiting for you to break down, because when you do I'm just gonna start laughing.”

“Cheers to you, Mrs. Robinson," and I took a long drag off my cigarette. “You slay me, I mean it, you're a regular laugh riot.”

“Oh you, honestly.” I heard her lungs quiver and wheeze. She coughed into her hand and as I sucked my filter I suddenly wanted to scream. To get all of the smoke out of me and throw my pack over the two story motel we were staying at, but instead I slid in close and kissed her neck, my lips creating soft suction. “You wet me, dickhead.”

“Not yet, not really.” I slid my hand across her back and down to the waistband of her jeans. I wanted her and I was going to get her. Her head cocked to the side; I found her irresistible. “Mary, beautiful Mary.”

“Shut up,” but she kissed me. I wrapped my thumbs in her belt loops, my hands all over her hips. I pulled her from the hood and started toward our room. She followed me with her stare, her hips completely mine. We backed into a load bearing stud and she forced her lips on mine.

Was it Utah? Was it her?

I was hard and she was bucking her hips into me, and a trucker got out of his cab and whistled at her. She smiled at him and bit her lip. She grabbed my hand and put it on her side, sliding her palms over my own and across her breasts. She rested her behind on the erection clumsily poking out of my jeans, “Look at that, he wants it,” she said.

“I want it,” I said and she turned to face me.

The metal clink of the truckers Zippo slid Mary's eyes from mine and I growled at her. She came back, her nails clawed my cheek. “You want me?” And my hands found her behind, she let her head fall back, exposing her throat to me and I sucked her neck.

There was this feeling of being completely alone, like the trucker had gone and packed everything and everyone from that parking lot into his trailer and carted them off and left just the two of us behind.

In our room I imagined a line starting at her religiously lotioned ankle all the way up her body running alongside her inner thigh, over her stomach, between her breasts, until I found her lips.

Was it my first time?

It's hard to say. I was too busy outside myself to really know. Watching us, one arm around her waist, hands all over backs and chests, nipples, spooning, the cotton hotel sheets, her hair in my mouth while I gasped for breath. I wanted like nothing else to come inside her.

I kept squeezing her breasts, wondering while I felt myself going, whether this was my adventure. This was it, I was free.

“Don't.”

“What?” Back inside me, my heart was pounding, and I felt myself pulse inside her. Her hips froze, her teeth clenched tight, her nails dug firmly into my thighs.

“Don't,” and she threw her head back and hit me in the face, but I didn't care. I wrapped my arms around her, thrust into her while she pulled me from her and my wet length set there throbbing, waiting. My eyes were shut, but I could feel her thighs clamp down over my ears.

In the morning she took the sheet from my body and draped it around herself. She flipped the vanity lights on and I could see her silhouette through the cotton. I wanted to kiss her legs all the way up, but I was frozen in bed watching her.

I listened to the water dribble from her body and land in the small pool that had collected at her feet in loud intermittent claps. “We catching breakfast?”

I barely heard her, “Sure babe, anything you want.” I wanted to watch her shower, to watch the water trickle from her dark brown nipples. I wanted to sit on the toilet and masturbate and cum on the wall and shower and fuck and shower and fuck and shower and fuck.

I poured a bowl of frosted flakes and some 2% milk. I basted a cinamon toast with butter and ate hungrily. I watched Mary spoon at her fruit loops and sip her coffee. We had this view of the mountains with the road spinning off into them. Everything glowed morning white.

“You're beautiful. I'm glad you're here.” I meant it, but when I reached my hand out to touch her face, she slapped me away.

“You just don't know what you're talking about. Wait till tommorow when we've spent thirty two hours in the car together. We'll see how you feel then,” and she kept spooning like she'd been waiting for the bottom to fall out since before we left.

So I started thinking about things like laundry and our suitcases and food and water.

“We need a cooler.”

“Keeping your eyes on the road boy? You intend on having us a picnic?”

“Don't be ridiculous, I wouldn't bother wasting that kind of time on you.” Her eyes flared and she sat back. Her disposition suggested she hadn't entirely expected that.

“Did your balls just drop?” And she threw her had back and laughed long and hearty.

“We should get a cooler, that's all.” I'd already fucked her, it was time to let her know it.

We weren't on the road for too long before coming across this cute little town called Joseph. There was this redhead kid she kept on eyeing, and I couldn't tell whether they knew eachother, but she asked the boy to take our picture. I never did see it, but I remember feeling her ribcage through her loose cotton tank.

“Welcome to Joseph Ma'am.” I felt her smile, but I couldn't pull myself loose of the boy's blue eyes. I wanted the cooler, to drink a coke, refuel, and be gone. The boy looked like America: eyes wide with adolescent destiny that kept scraped knees and cut up palms climbing trees kicking balls and, in this place, vision that saw for miles and miles.

In backwoods nowhere, it's not unheard of to smoke very near gas pumps and so the store owner and I sat looking at the long road leading back to 80. “This is beautiful,” I said to the store owner. He nodded.

“Shut up over there. Everything is beautiful,” she said. The store owner, an old gray man with a potbelly and a sweat stained undershirt, thumped his belly. This seemed to start his wheezy laugh rather than compliment it. I asked him about a cooler and bought myself a six pack of coke. He started laughing.

“You aint gonna buy no beer? What about your pretty lady friend? Hey missy, you want any-”

I cut him off sternly, “Hey, why don't you just let me worry about her buster brown,” and I proceeded to try and pay for my cooler. That was when Mary got involved.

“What's going on here boys? Id've figured we'd be back on the road, since you have no interest in 'wasting time',” she said.

“When the old man heard her, he gave a hoot, like a withered old bullhorn. Hoot! I couldn't shake the feeling that I was transparent. “I'll take the cooler, the cokes, and the gas.”

“Seventy Five Dollars.”

“Un-fucking believable pops,” she blurted this out like the old man would pay it mind, but he just took my money. I watched him count my change, raise his tired cobalts, and wink one saggy puffy eye while he dropped change into my open palm.

“I know you aint gonna, but for what it's worth, feel free to come again. And see that she comes along with you. I like you little lady.” He winked at her too.

“Thank you sir, my my, such a gentleman,” I watched her wink back at him. It was making me sick.

“You'll flirt with anything won't you?”

“Nothing wrong with a little bit of human kindness.” I started to walk out and she broke into a laugh behind me. “You are just about too much.” She shouted this after me, but I just kept on walking. The little boy with the red hair and the blue eyes watched me walk to the car and get inside and start the engine in a hurry. I wasn't even really angry to be honest.

Mary took her sweet time coming out, and when she did it was all hips and legs and breasts and hair. The morning was like her spotlight and whatever I was feeling, any sense of frustration or transparence, disappeared when she was climbing into the car. I wanted to tell her she was beautiful, but honestly what would that have done?