Chapter Twenty-three: Fairy Tail
Dawn showed up at my door. She said, “Hi” as her head swiveled as she handed me a piece paper. Her left hand fiddled with a blue origami crane as her right hand rubbed her neck.
“These are directions to my house. I’m having parties during break. Hope you come. Oh yeah, my phone number is there if you want to call. My parents don’t live in the house anymore. They bought an apartment in Manhattan. So, if you want to come by anytime it’s cool. I came to give this to you so, bye,” she said and rushed away before I could speak.
It was an option in case of an emergency.
George’s sister was arriving within the hour. My luggage was brimming with stinky. George lugged his bags to the stairs by the window. Most of the school left, including Tim, in an armada of cars wearing northern license plates. The halls were barren and there was nothing to do but wait. Outside the window the wind howled with Virginia fall. Checked to see if my room was locked and the elm tree looked wilted but I figured it was the cold. I told it to, “Hold tough” and the blinds closed with a twist.
The room was sealed.
With two kicks my gym bags slid into place next to George’s vinyl travel bags and duffle bag. He stood arms crossed at the window as his baggy jeans hooked onto his hips.
“Is your sister punctual?” I asked.
“Normally, but it depends if she ran into traffic. Don’t worry, we’ll get to my house before it’s late.”
As he said this, a blue Suburban pulled up the road. George pointed and told me he could fit nine people in it. Unexpectedly, two girls got out of the vehicle.
I recognized the driver as George’s sister because I saw a picture. She was George with tits. The other girl brushed her hair back as the wind caught it. My eyes bulged but they weren’t the only thing. George’s face wrinkled as he strained to see and said, “I wonder who that is?”
We gathered our bags and clopped down the stairs letting gravity help. He opened the door and his sister and the girl were standing there about to use the yellow call box. George’s sister looked at him with glee in her eyes and said, “Perfect timing.”
They hugged as I stood back holding the door and she grabbed one of his bags. George turned and pointed at me like a master showing his dog where to shit and said, “This is Joaquin. The guy I told you about.”
His sister smiled and said, “My name is Barbara, but everyone calls me Babs. This is Cindy, or as I call her Cinderella. We’re sisters.”
We all shook hands, trotted over to the vehicle, and stuffed our ripe gear on top of the girls’ hard blue and red suitcases.
The monster was full.
They were tan, but they went to school in Florida. Barbara’s voice sounded like gravel and glue.
Cindy was a pleasure to look at like a new toy still in the package that you desperately want to rip open. I hoped I wouldn’t stare. She was pure centerfold. Her robust lips flirted with the air with a pouty kiss.
George took the wheel and his sister got in the passenger seat. She told him to drive the rest of the way. I sat next to Cindy as colorful shopping bags filled the spaces where luggage couldn’t fit. I hoped I didn’t smell.
The morning’s rural scenery passed by in a hypnotic mural and within a half-hour Barbara was asleep. She squeaked. George looked back at me by adjusting the rearview mirror and winked every time. Cindy read Cosmo and when she finished she fished out a Walkman from her purse. I figured our conversation would be brief but I was glad to be wearing a loose black button down oxford that disguised my excitement.
We came to a light on the four lane route and George put on a Jane’s Addiction mix. The miles skipped away.
Navajo blanket wrapped around Cindy but her body penetrated the covering to display her curves. The headphones came off, the magazine was slid under the seat and she waved. Soon she was off to visit the land of Somnus. I turned and looked at her from time to time. She was beautiful sleeping cherub, a sculpted alabaster ideal, with a hint of sin.
George started to talk to me when I snuck a stare at her. I tried to play it off by rolling my neck.
“Missy is coming to see me this week. You know Walk, I really think it could happen between us,” George said looking back in the rearview mirror.
“Cool, hope so. She is too fine for you,” I said.
He gave me the finger.
“Just kidding,” I said.
“I know. Otherwise, you would be walking,” he said.
I gave him the finger and we had a Mexican Standoff of middle fingers. I withdrew and snuck a glance at Cindy. My heart felt like it was taking up most of my chest.
“Want to pull off the highway and get some lunch? I’m starving. Let’s decide soon because we’re coming up on a stretch that doesn’t have anything for miles.”
I agreed.
We pulled into a franchise as fast as they come. I got out and let George wake up the two sorority-sisters. My knees popped so I stretched my legs and bent over to grab my toes and was knocked to the ground face first. Cindy had exited the door without sound and hit me square in the ass. I broke her fall, but went domino on the pavement. She cupped her slender hands in front of her mouth and laughed. I laughed even though I scuffed my knuckles. She put out her hand and said, “I’m so sorry. Here we are, not two words between us, and I’m knocking you over.”
I brushed off my hands and told her, “No problem but by the end of this trip you will probably want on knock me on my ass anyway.”
“Sorry, I’m such a klutz,” she said.
Barbara strolled in through the food chain’s glass doors and I held it for Cindy. Tried to close it on George, but he grabbed the frame and gave me a high pitched butler impersonation of, “Thank you sir.”
We stood in line as the clerks wrestled and waited to see if they could fulfill a group of odd orders from a throng of elderly customers. The scent of French Fries diving into the deep fat fryer made me salivate and I think made George have an orgasm as his eyes rolled back in his head.
We mumbled complaints to each other until we got our food and collected in a red booth. I ate my burger at a slower pace than George and Barbara. Cindy had a salad and nibbled with a squirrel’s cuteness, well a squirrel with D’s.
The small talk was rampant and I inquired about Cindy’s background. She told me she was a junior and from a few towns over from George. She was a Marketing Major and no boyfriend. She put her fork down, leaned into the table and asked, “What about you?”
“I am, or was, a musician and a painter. Going to school because it seems like the right thing. Uh, no girlfriend,” I said, rolled my shoulders back and sucked in my gut.
She sipped through her straw and said, “Really. So… How old are you?”
“I am eighteen. Why?” I asked.
“I’m twenty and a junior. I was just seeing if you had maybe taken a year off or something because you look older,” she responded.
“Oh, do I? I will be nineteen in March,” I told her with my best cowboy in a cigarette ad look.
“I was born in March too, are you a Pisces or an Aries?”
“Aries,” I said and she looked aghast and said, “Me too.”
“Oh. Well, you know that horoscope stuff does not mean anything to me anyway. They made those constellations up when the stars were in different positions in the sky and they do not correspond any more,” I said and took a sip of soda.
“Really,” she said, sipped her soda and our eyes met.
We finished eating as George and Barbara argued about what runway model their uncle Brucee brought to Thanksgiving last year. Napkins were crumpled up and placed on the table and George flipped his head towards the Suburban.
We rose as one.
George got back behind the wheel. Cindy and I crunched in close this time. She sat against the window and pulled the Navajo blanket over and patted the cushion twice for me to scoot closer.
Barbara turned around and sa
id, “I’m happy you two are getting along. I’m going to sleep.”
She turned around and was out cold in a matter of minutes. Cindy looked at me with her deep gazing eyes and asked me, “Do you want some of my blanket?”
“No, no thank you,” I responded.
She then giggled and said, “Nonsense” and draped it across me. As she was doing this, she moved closer.
Then she leaned on me a little and asked as if an infant, “You don’t mind if I move over next to you do you? It’s cold by the window.”
I grunted, “No” and she put more weight towards me.
I hoped I wouldn’t get excited and do something stupid.
The combined heat of our bodies was a turn on. George looked back in the mirror and I gave him a wave. She took a deep breath, released a long sigh and slowly rotated her head towards me. She placed her head on my shoulder. I was paralyzed. My pulse quickened and my heart was pounding and protruding through my chest. Everything became energized.
Her left hand went gently over my chest and then descended down to my abdominal muscles. She caressed them with the tips of her fingers. All of the blood then left my face and my ears became cold. I began to vibrate and tremble.
She lifted her head up and said, “You have great abs so you must work out a lot.”
“Not since summer,” I forced out. Then she pouted and said, “You know you are incredibly sexy.”
Then with little skips, she kissed my chin up to the side of my face and to my ear as I sat like a petrified log. She sucked the lobe until she bit it at the bottom. Frozen, and I could feel my pulse in my eyeballs, I dared not move. She moved in front of me as close as humanly possible and she kissed my quivering lips. She held her soft mouth there for a few moments waiting for a response, but I was paralyzed. She slid her lips back to my ear and pinched the lower lobe in her lips and released it with a pucker. She extended her tongue and fondled my ear. The innocence was lost. I turned my head towards her and looked in her misty blue eyes.
The look she gave me drew me in like the ebbing tide and I turned into kiss her.
And so it began.
I was scared George would say something but he didn’t when I looked up and saw him watching. Dread filled me with the thought of Barbara waking up. Cindy began to rub my chest faster and harder. Then she unbuttoned my shirt and put her hands on my chest. She grabbed both of my pectoral muscles and twisted my nipples. Her left hand rubbed my abdominal muscles and then went around to my back and she got a grip right under my rib cage. A spasm bound me for a moment but as she released I could move. It was now or never so I ran my fingers up her arms and went under her blouse. She retreated from my cold hands for a second but soon relaxed. I slid my fingers up and down slowly and then circled her belly button. My hands were cautious on their approach to her back but at least I had her firmly.
I used my fingertips and unhooked her bra in a single motion. I took my right hand slowly around to the front but unexpectedly she grabbed my hand and pulled it up to her breast.
A surge flowed and the doubt left.
As I fondled her breasts, her nipples became erect from my cold fingers. Her breasts were full and firm. They were large as cantaloupes. Her skin was tight as a drum. She was smooth without blemishes. Every time I pulled my hand away, she grabbed it and returned it. The state of bliss was unfamiliar but I was happy and could feel it was about to escalate. Even the fear of the red dots shattered.
Cindy started squeezing my back and then she twisted towards me more and put her left leg over my left leg and then in between my legs. She shifted her weight. She straddled my leg and began to writhe and grind in small circles backward slowly and forward quickly. Her pelvis pushed down every time she came forward.
My breath quickened and became shallow.
She ground me down into pulp and I was to the point of popping. I needed something more, or for her to back off, so I pulled way. My voice lowered and I growled as I pulled back to look into her eyes that radiated like uranium. She smiled and licked her lips and then gave me a penetrating look and said, “Good.”
She rushed back at me and clinched me tightly with her arms and her tongue flicked faster and faster. She pulled away from kissing me and started to lick my ear and then my neck. She took her hands away from my back and slid down pulling my shirt up and tongued my chest as I recoiled. She undid my belt and put her right hand around my back and squeezed my ass as her left hand went down the front and began to vigorously stroke my swollen member. She was sucking on my nipples and then she looked up at me.
This angel had the devil’s temptations in her gaze and we were meeting in the gates of perdition. My thoughts evacuated as she went down on me. Here I was now with a beautiful giving me head and only four feet away from my friend and his sister, in a moving vehicle no less. I was thankful for the Navajo blanket.
My breath became staggered. The two-second alarm went off and all of my muscles became tense as my abdominal muscles contracted. I tried to breathe, but no, the vital essence released. A large exhale came to me. She stroked like a piston and the blanket was imbedded with my partial genetic code.
She crawled up on me and began kissing me on the neck but then stopped.
She looked into my eyes and said, “I’m glad you liked that but now it’s my turn.”
I nodded.
I unbuttoned her blouse and began to suck her nipples into my mouth and flick them with my tongue. With one hand, while holding on with the other, I opened her pants and put my hand up and had her lick my fingers. I slipped my hand down to her anticipating flesh. I rubbed in circles and varied my speed. I did every thing that I had ever been taught from every girl I had ever been with as sucked and flicked her ears. She gyrated her hips to match the movement of my hand as she grabbed it and said, “Do this.”
I did.
Her stomach went into spasms. Her face shuddered with uneven heavy breath. She clenched me tight. I began again faster.
She grabbed my hair and pulled my head back to stop. She turned her head and took a deep breath and said, “You take direction well.”
We kissed and I pulled back
“A mouth for a mouth,” I whispered.
She looked at me with a bigger smile and I fell to my knees.
I lowered myself slowly and licked her from her nipples to her belly button and then I pulled her pants and panties away. Her legs wrapped around my head and she pulled my hair again. She pulsed up and down until she collapsed and pulled me up. I climbed her and pulled her pants up at the same time. I kissed her and we sat back and re-zipped zippers and buttoned up buttons. She cuddled up.
“That was better than my last boyfriend. He never listened. Oh, my god! Look at the time we’re only an hour from my house,” she said.
How time flew.
I looked forward to see George bobbing his head to the music. I turned to Cindy and quietly said, “I do not know what happened to you know what, but I sorry if I messed up your blanket.”
“Don’t worry. Shut up and hold me,” she said and I did just that.
I saw George looking back in the mirror and he saw me gazing forward. He gave a grim grin. I just smiled, leaned back and relaxed for the rest of the ride. The sweat soaked clothes clung to my chest. The rest of the ride was quiet and we held each other as traffic built.
Barbara awoke as we bid I-95 goodbye and found our way to the Long Island Expressway. No Brooklyn, no Queens, no Nassau, we headed towards the Hamptons. We pulled through salt marsh grasslands and went north where the indications of beach life gave way to woodsy lanes. We pulled up a gravel drive. I noticed there were no leaves on the trees. The Suburban pulled up to what looked like a Venetian Manor house on about two and a half flat acres.
The stone semi-circle driveway was hung with small brass lights distributed evenly up to the walkway but we pulled on to an access road that went behind the main house. Cindy had all of her gear in one ea
sy to reach place and started to get it before we stopped. We came to a halt in front of a red barn and two Irish Wolfhounds galloped to the vehicle from the side yard. Their gray and white bristly heads were chest high and looked like they were smiling with three inch fangs.
Cindy’s parents, a perfectly matched set of saucers, came out from around the back of the main house and Cindy turned to me and said, “Before anyone can see.” She reached over and gave me a little last tongue.
Barbara was watching and said, “What?”
The parents made a pilgrim’s progress to the vehicle, sweaters over shoulders, boat shoes kicked the gravel, and they reminded me of my grandparents when I last saw them on Nantucket before they died. I helped Cindy with her bags as she got out of the car. Everyone got out carefully so not to offend the playful dogs and to stretch our legs. Barbara and Cindy hugged.
The parents introduced themselves with smiles and handshakes. They asked if we would join them for a drink. Barbara graciously declined on all of our behalves. The parents took the bags. Cindy waved as she walked away with the hounds circling and yelled for Barbara to call her.
As we filed back in the car Barbara looked at me and said, “What did you do? Are you some sort of Lothario?”
I shrugged my right shoulder and asked, “What is a Lothario?”
George slapped the steering as he adjusted his mirrors and said, “Dick.”
We headed in back towards the city to the modest lands.
The street lamps of a straight suburban road lit as we parked in the driveway of a modest split level home. I saw the glass walls of a greenhouse peer out from behind the corner of the house. The backyard was not deep. A row of Hemlocks kept out the sight of nosy neighbors. The porch light flickered as we slugged up blacktop and I could see a television was through the front bay window. They fumbled through the front door and I waited to be waved in. Their mother had left us dinner in the stove and refrigerator. We decided to get the bags out of the car later and immediately engorged at the round kitchen table. We finished and it was nine o’clock and hauled the bags inside.
George gave me a tour and we roamed the carpeted halls. Miniature statues and curios were everywhere. The door to the greenhouse was fogged up and locked.
“Do you want to stay here or go to a bar? I know one we can get into,” George asked.
“No bars,” I replied
He led me to a room off the back of the house that didn’t match the rest. The carpet was thin and walls had wood paneling. A pool table was the face of the room and a fully stocked wet bar at the back was the crown. A television on a side board consumed the rest of the space at the end of a black leather couch. Barbara called someone from the kitchen phone and was gone within an hour. So, we just kicked it at the homestead, click on cable and tied a buzz on.
Around one, a car parked out front. The front door clanged opened. I figured it was Barbara and heard a set of keys drop on the kitchen table. A shadow stepped in front of the door. George’s mother lifted her head. Her gold rimmed glasses threw a patch of glittering light under her jet black hair. She was an older version of Barbara in a black cocktail dress.
She stumbled in the game room and said, “Come here baby, I missed you,” George went over and hugged his mother. She surveyed the scene and asked, “Where’s Barbara?”
“I don’t know what that girl does. You know that,” George said.
He popped open a beer right in front of his mother.
George’s mother turned to me and said, “You must be Joaquin. Nice to meet you. I didn’t expect you to be white and you’re snow white.”
“Oh, yep, I am white,” I said.
She kicked up her heels into her hand and disappeared.
We adjourned to his room covered in posters of Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains and Soundgarden. He opened up a futon and tossed me a green Jet’s sheet. Before we both fell off to sleep George said, “I can’t believe you scored with Cindy.”
“Me neither,” I said and saw a single red dot.