Chapter 3

I drove home with a big old smile thinking about what Faith had said. As I was parking my truck in the driveway my phone rang. The caller ID read ‘Mikayla’, so I answered the call.

“Hi, Johnny, are you busy?” she asked.

“Never too busy for you,” I replied.

“Surrre,” she said, and she made it sound that it was the opposite of what she thought, “I’ll bet you say that to all the girls.”

“Only the beautiful redheads,” I replied gallantly.

She laughed at my attempt to be charming.

“Goofball ... So listen, are you busy tonight?” she asked.

“Nope, not a bit,” I answered.

“Then could you meet me at Chili’s at six?”

“I’ll be there. What shirt should I wear to complement your wardrobe?”

“You are a laugh riot, Pulaski; but, now that you mention it, a lumberjack plaid would be nice. R-ed and black if you have one.”

Quick wit, eh?

Instead of going into the house I drove over to Penney’s and picked up a red and black plaid flannel shirt in size extra-large-long. When I hit Chili’s I was wearing that new shirt over a long sleeved Life is Good t-shirt. Also, my backpack full of contraceptive materials was behind the seat of my truck. I was standing outside the door when Mikayla walked up carrying a shopping bag. She was disguised again, Jeans, well-worn sweatshirt, and this time a blond wig and black framed nerd glasses. She looked as if she were an off-duty librarian. She grinned when she saw me in the plaid shirt.

“You are such a Goober,” she said, “you know I was joking about the shirt.”

“I thought so, but I couldn’t take the chance of disappointing you,” smooth Johnny replied.

She didn’t say anything, but her smile spoke volumes. She took my arm, and we walked inside. She held my arm tightly as if I might run away. We sat in the bar area on tall stools at a high-top table. We sat next to each other holding hands and we might as well have been the only people in the place.

We left Chili’s at seven-fifteen, and I didn’t have a clue of what she wanted to do next. So I pitched an idea.

“It’s early, would you like to go to the movies? Superman 2 is playing; or, if you like, some rom com titled The Lake House,” I said.

She shrugged and reached into her purse. When she pulled out her hand, instead of car keys she held up a key card.

“We could do that, or you could follow me to the Pelican,” she replied, swinging the card back and forth in front of my face as if she were a side show hypnotist. My eyes followed it comically, as if I were indeed hypnotized.

Her idea beat the hell out mine, so I jumped in my truck and pulled out of the parking lot right behind her. Fifteen minutes later we pulled up to the Pelican, the nicest apartment building on the beach. The Pelican was seven stories of luxury apartments. Some of the units had full time occupant but most were investments that the owners rented out through a management company. All the apartments had balconies overlooking the ocean. I hopped out of my truck, grabbed my backpack, and met her where she was waiting at the main entry. She had the shopping bag in one hand, and the key card in the other. Gone were the blond wig and glasses. Mikayla used the key card to get us in the foyer and led me to the elevator. Once in the elevator and headed up to the sixth floor she nodded toward my backpack.

“What’s in there, Johnny?” she asked.

“Tooth brush and three forms of contraceptives. What about you?” I replied.

She laughed and held up the shopping bag.

“Two forms of birth control and a present for you.”

“Thinking of us using birth control is present enough for me,” I said, and I meant every word.

She laughed again just as the elevator came to a gentle stop and she grabbed my hand. This time it was her sending me a jolt of lust. We tumbled out of the elevator and quick timed it to the door of unit sixty-six. Mikayla swiped open the door with the key card and we fell through it, already in a clinch. We threw our bags into the room, and I kicked the door shut. She jumped up and wrapped her legs around my waist our lips already fused together. I was headed towards where I thought the bedroom might be when she stopped kissing me.

“Condoms,” she reminded me.

I reversed course and walked back to the door where we threw the bags with Mikayla still wrapped around me. I squatted just enough to grab both bags and turned us around.

“Which way?” I asked.

“Second door on the right,” she answered.

I turned us sideways and sidled through the door. Mikayla reluctantly unpeeled herself from around me and dropped to her feet. As soon as she hit the floor, it was a race as to who could get naked first. Mikayla only beat me because after toeing off her sneakers she only had to shuck a sweatshirt, jeans and minuscule t-back undies. But soon enough I was naked too and together we tumbled onto the bed facing each other. Our lips were once again connected, I just couldn’t seem to get enough of her kisses. Finally, she broke the kiss and leaned back until she could look me in the eye.

“My cousin Elaine told me if I let myself go you would catch me. I don’t know if I can let go of my fears; but if you get a condom on, I’m willing to try,” she said.

She sounded so vulnerable I couldn’t help but agree. I nodded and jumped off the bed. I hurriedly opened my backpack and fumbled out a strip of three pre-lubed Trojans. There was absolutely no question about Kong being hard enough to don the rubber because I could have driven in railroad spike with him. I rolled on the rubber and turned toward the bed. Mikayla was laying on her side facing me, that lingerie model body on full display. Mikayla had surprisingly large breast for her slender build, and I wonder if they had been surgically enhanced. She wasn’t completely shaved like most of the women I know, instead she had an inch wide landing strip above her goodies. Oh yeah, and the carpet matched the drapes. Her waist was narrow, and her hips flared out just the right amount.

“You are so beautiful,” I said reverently.

I knew she’d probably heard that all her life, but I still had to say it.

She didn’t say anything she just held up her open arms. I took it as a clear invitation and jumped up on the bed with a growl. She squeaked in surprise when I did that, so I decided to try a little caveman to see how she liked it. I figured I had a good chance of being right because being married to a hockey player, she had to like macho men. I took both her hands in my big Polish paw and pinned them above her head as I rolled on top of her. She gasped as I settled above her and moaned when I claimed her lips. Our connection flared brightly so I knew I was on the right track. I slid down her body and went to work with my lips and tongue.

“I don’t need that, Johnny, I’m ready for you right now,” she whined.

“I’ll decide what you need,” I said sternly.

Then I pulled her hands down and shoved them under her tight little ass.

“Don’t move them,” I ordered.

She whimpered and vigorously nodded her head, her eyes huge as I dove between her spread thighs,

It only took three or four minutes before Mikayla groaned my name and soaked me. She came so hard her vagina made a farting noise and she sprayed my face and chest. It was a big, pleasant surprise for me, my first squirter. I wiped my face with my forearm and loomed up over her. She looked chagrined and tried to apologize.

“I’m so sor...,” and that was all I let her say.

“Put me in and clean my face,” I commanded.

I was getting into this being in charge stuff, first Cindi and now Mikayla. They had released the Kraken!

I was a young healthy soldier with lots of stamina and she was a sex machine! We were a match made in porn heaven. She’d orgasm a few times, then I would let loose a load. We’d strip off the dead Trojan and she would revive Kong with her talented oral skills. Once hard, she’d sheath him up and we’d go at it like sexually enhanced lab rats. I’ll tell you what, Mikayla being celibate with men for three years was a crime against the male population. After we polished off the strip of condoms, we fell on the bed side-by-side. Both of us were covered in sweat, Mikayla had hickeys on both breasts, and I had some scratches on my back.

“Wow, Johnny! That is the best sex I’ve ever had while being sober!” she exclaimed.

I nodded my agreement as I tried to catch my breath. We showered together, washing each other’s back, and playing grab ass. After we dried off, Mikayla asked me to stay over. It was only ten, so I called home and told Mom I was spending the night with a friend. Since it was fairly early, we sat out on the balcony. I was in my boxers, and she was wearing her new red and black plaid shirt. I had perched myself on a wooden Adirondack chair and Mikayla crawled into my lap holding the mysterious shopping bag. We were bundled up with the comforter off the bed because a stiff breeze was blowing off the ocean and the temperature was in the fifties. The susurrus lapping of the outgoing tide was a peaceful backdrop to our conversation. A quarter moon was the only illumination.

“I’ve been carrying this around all evening. I was going to give it to you at Chili’s, but it was too noisy. Then when we got here, I got ‘distracted.’ So anyway, I got this for you to replace the shirt you are never getting back,” she explained.

She handed me the bag and I pulled out a dark green cable knit sweater that must have cost a bundle. Then again, a fortune to me was probably chump change to her.

“This is very cool! I love it!” I said, and I gave her a smooch.

She beamed me a big smile and said, “Seeing you happy makes me happy, Johnny. Try it on, let’s see how it looks.”

I shucked the comforter off my shoulders and pulled the crew necked sweater over my head. The wool was coarse, and I knew I would need to wear a t-shirt under it. It felt warm and cozy though. I preened for Mikayla, trying to look good in her thoughtful present. She ran her hand over my chest feeling the design that ran down the front of the sweater.

“It looks good on you, and I love this color. I think you will too when you see it in the daylight,” she said.

We sat out on the balcony for a half hour chatting about whatever inconsequential thing that popped up. I was doing everything I could to make Mikayla smile and laugh because those were things I intuited she didn’t do a lot. It was near eleven when we went back inside.

I dropped onto the couch in the open plan living room and Mikayla breezed into the kitchen.

“Hungry?” she asked.

“I could eat, now that you mention it,” I replied.

She turned on the oven and rattled around a cookie sheet.

“Watch closely because I am about to show you the totality of my culinary skills,” she said pontifically.

Then she whipped open the fridge and pulled out a Pizza Hut box. She took the pizza out of the box, put it on the cookie sheet and slipped it into the oven. She stood up with a flourish and gestured to the oven with one hand above her head and one down by the oven door.

“And Viola,” she said, as if she were Julia Child.

She looked impossibly cute standing there with the way too big plaid shirt draped on her. I was liking this woman more and more every minute. The pizza came out of the oven a few minutes later and we sat at the breakfast bar to eat it. I was mildly surprised that half the pizza was a meat-lovers with jalapeno peppers. I looked at Mikayla inquisitively.

“Elaine told me what you like,” she said in explanation.

“You and Elaine share a lot of information,” I said.

“Yeah, she is the go-to source for all things Johnny Pulaski. She is seriously crazy about you, you know?”

I smiled and nodded.

“The feeling is mutual and the more time we spend together the more I like you, too. I should have warned you in advance that I don’t jump into bed with anyone I don’t have feelings for.”

She turned serious suddenly.

“I like you a lot too, Johnny; but I have to tell you, I am damaged goods. I’m a drug addict and I’ve been in rehab twice. When I was sixteen, I overdosed on pills, booze and cocaine and almost died. So you see, I’m no catch.”

“That is all in the past, Mikayla. I’m a ‘live in the present’ type of guy. The Mikayla I know is sweet, smart, and funny. You are the one getting the short end of the stick because I’m just a poor GI who can’t decide what I want to be if I ever grow up,” I said.

We tucked into the pizza, my carnivore with hot peppers and her travesty with spinach and no meat. Then it was back to bed for round four. We fell asleep around one in the morning and she woke me up at four.

She rolled me on my back and went down on me until I was erect, then she installed one of the fancy condoms she’d brought and climbed aboard. Like I said, she was a sex machine.

I was up at my usual 0600. I woke up the same time every morning no matter how late I stayed up. I was drinking a cup of coffee from her fancy Keurig machine and watching ESPN, when Mikayla walked out of the bedroom. Her hair was a tousled mess, and she was wearing my Life is Good t-shirt. The shirt hung down to mid-thigh on her lanky body and her unfettered breasts wobbled underneath it. She was too cute for words.

“Good morning,” I said cheerfully.

She ignored me and stumbled toward the kitchen.

“Coffee,” she mumbled.

I chuckled, “You are so beautiful and pleasant first thing in the morning.”

She gave me the finger and pulled a mug out of the cabinet. Once her coffee brewed, she doctored it up, plopped down on the couch, and snuggled up next to me.

“Stop being cheerful, Pulaski. Morning people irritate me,” she groused.

I laughed and put my arm around her. We sat in comfortable silence as we sipped our coffee. Then Mikayla sighed and pushed tighter against me.

“I’m going to miss you,” she said out of the blue.

“You’re leaving?” I asked.

“I am flying out tonight. I have a New Years Eve party in Paris my agent obligated me to attend. It’s a big fashion house, so I can’t duck it,” she explained.

“I understand,” I deadpanned, “happens to me all the time. What time do we have to be checked out of here? Do we have time for some breakfast and more hanky-panky?”

She laughed and said, “You’re in luck, Pulaski; because we have all day, and I own this place.”

Why didn’t that surprise me? She scrounged me up a shirt that once belonged to her hockey playing ex that fit me well, and probably cost what I made in a month. I was making out like a bandit on the clothing exchange deal. A beautifully tailored dress shirt and expensive Irish knit sweater cost me about twenty dollars’ worth of JC Penney’s finest.

We went to a diner a few blocks away and I scarfed down a ‘he-man’ breakfast, while she nibbled on a fruit cup. Then it was back to the apartment for the promised hanky-panky. We called it quits at four so she could get ready for her trip. I was bummed she had to go but I was pleased when she said she’d stay in touch.