“Callahan Auto Repairs. This is Michael.”
“Hi, Michael. Are you the big stud I saw in the garage earlier? You made me so horny with your rippling muscles under your tight tee-shirt. Are you there alone or is that super hunky Tommy there?”
“You’re such an idiot.” Michael hung up the phone and yelled back to the garage bay. “Hey, how do you keep masking your phone’s id?” The prank phone calls from the Callahan twins had gotten old shortly after they started. The three of them became best friends when they met Michael in the fourth grade. The compulsive pranks, jokes, and puns started then and, for the twins, continued unabated.
“That’s spy tradecraft. You’ll never get it out of me.”
Tommy’s brother Jim stopped as he was walking passed the door. “He’ll actually never tell. He never does. It’s his version of Socratic learning. Did you order the pizza?”
“Yeah, three pies. We’ve gotta get rid of the boxes before we leave. Your dad read me the riot act again yesterday.”
“Don’t sweat it. You’re golden. He likes you more than he does us. He actually pays you to work here. We’re lucky to get room and board.”
Michael had worked for their father since he was thirteen. Mr. Callahan hired him to do some light clean-up in the evenings and had thought he would soon quit. You didn’t see many teenagers from wealthy families working in garages. He was proven wrong. Michael was a hard worker and a quick study. It didn’t hurt that the three of them spent most of their time-off working after hours in the garage on their own cars.
“Oh, sorry. I forgot. You don’t get paid. I’ve never been here on a Friday when you were handed an envelope and were magically richer later that day. And all those custom parts you keep buying must be coming from the Auto Fairy.”
“Nah, Tommy never gets me parts.”
“I heard that!” Came a voice from the garage.
“How does he hear that shit?” Jim whispered. “It’s like he’s Daredevil, but with sight and an IQ of 75.”
The brothers were decidedly goofy, with an identical sense of humor that left everyone amused most of the time and confused part of the time. They didn’t care too much about who else laughed as long as they could crack each other up. It was as much a competition as anything else. They loved to see which of them could come up with the quickest joke or the most groan-worthy pun.
Michael’s father was happy to watch him develop a strong work ethic and insisted that he use part of his paycheck from the garage towards his education. The amount was nominal, and his father would have been happy to cover all the costs, but he wanted Michael to have a personal financial stake in his time at college. He made enough to cover the costs of his text books, put some away in savings and have some spending money left over.
His mother wasn’t the typical wealthy suburban socialite. It seemed that social status didn’t matter much to her. She also wasn’t the standard ‘cookies and milk’ mom. She was supportive in her way and extremely diligent when it came to her family’s needs, but it always seemed like she was performing a required task, not doing what she loved. To Michael, she was just Mom.
She didn’t seem particularly aloof or cold to him. He thought that was how moms were. The rare exception to that was when he was at a friend’s house whose mother relished the role of a homemaker. That’s when the comparisons could be made. Seeing a friend’s mom puttering around the kitchen with an apron on and something baking in the oven or kissing their children on the cheek or forehead was somewhat disconcerting.
He loved his mother dearly but knew that she would never be considered warm or personable. Other kid’s moms were warm. His was efficient. She kept detailed notes on when parent-teacher nights were, when report cards were mailed out and when major projects were due at the middle school for his sister. She made sure that she had both his work and class schedule and he had something waiting in the fridge for dinner regardless of when he got in. She made him update her weekly and he thought it was a bit much but appreciated her concern. The food was almost always purchased as opposed to homemade, but it was there without fail.
Being a few years older than his sister, he tried to make up for his mother’s lack of warmth when he thought of it. It was after seeing a friend’s mother making brownies for her son’s friends that he decided to make pancakes for his sister, Maddie. Being eleven at the time, it was an experiment doomed to failure. The cacophonous smoke alarm drew his mother to the kitchen where her daughter was trying to eat a blackened pancake and her son was shoving as much of the evidence as possible into the garbage.
From then on, his cooking for Maddie was limited to stopping at the bakery, buying a dozen cookies and sneaking them into the oven for a few minutes. She thought he baked them for the first couple of years. He left little notes in her lunch box and signed them ‘Mom’. She knew immediately who they came from but enjoyed them and didn’t want them to stop, so she kept her knowledge to herself. He taught her to swim and tried to answer her questions about boys and why they behaved the way they did. In the end, he failed at being a second mom and succeeded at being a great brother.
For a while, it seemed that she had a new study partner every week and they always wanted cookies. He was a little self-congratulatory about his deception and thought that he was gaining a reputation as the best fifteen-year-old baker in the neighborhood. It turned out that Maddie had become the girl with hot brother and had to turn down requests from her friends to come over and study. It wasn’t the cookies they were interested in.
Having started college this semester, his time was split between classes, studying, work and hanging out with his friends, many of whom drifted towards the garage after hours. Like most eighteen-year-olds, he was more than a little obsessed with women. He dated off and on but knew that if he wanted to get into premed, his grades needed to be his priority.
Michael’s parents had always been generous but made sure that he understood the value of the dollar. They helped him purchase the classic muscle car that was his pride and joy. It was currently on the lifts. Having to wait forty-eight hours for the part he needed wasn’t as annoying as it could have been. It was Friday and they had arranged for a Sunday delivery. He’d have the car back in time for classes on Monday.
Michael had Tommy drive him home around nine that evening. He was supposed to be working until ten-thirty, but everything was caught up at the garage and there was nothing left to do. Realizing that his keys were still at the shop, he made his way around to the back door which was usually unlocked. He walked in to the obvious sounds of passionate sex. Confused and a bit stunned he stood there at the doorway. His father was out of town on business, his mother was at his aunt’s and his sister was staying at friends. Who the fuck was in his house?
“Take it, bitch. Ughhh ... take it.” The growling voice was familiar, but he couldn’t immediately recognize who it was. It was coming from the living room, which was just on the other side of the kitchen where he was standing.
Recognition hit him like gut punch as he heard his mother moan her lover’s name. “YES! Give it to me, Tony. You know how I need it. Harder you bastard! Mmmmmmm, yes! YES!”
He staggered backwards two steps and again stood in his backyard by the door. He turned and vomited on the bushes repeatedly as he realized that the voice belonged to Tony Calderone, the kid who had beaten the crap out of him from the age of thirteen to sixteen. He reflexively closed the door and mindlessly made his way to the street. Now he knew why she was so adamant about knowing his schedule.
He had wandered through his neighborhood for more than an hour when he came to a park near the elementary school he had attended. He couldn’t remember how he had gotten there or much of anything since he left the house. He sat heavily on a bench and sobbed. It was still dark when he awoke covered in sweat and with his heart beating like it wanted to leap out of his chest. He reached for his phone. It was a little after two in the morning.
“Hey, we were going play for another half hour or so but if you want to come over, we can hang until about four.” The sounds of the game were blasting through the computer’s speakers. He didn’t hear a reply. “Michael?” Tommy clearly reached over and turned down the volume. “Michael? Can you hear me? ‘Cause I can’t...”
“Can you come pick me up?”
He heard the tremor in Michael’s voice and knew something was seriously wrong. “Yeah, yeah. We’re leaving now. Where are you?”
The next day his mother saw him moving things from his room. “Michael, whose car is that and why are you packing it with your things? Where are you going?”
He continued to ignore her as he carried the rest of his clothing to the car. He had traded his car to the twins for cash and a solid, dependable used car they had on their lot. They assured him his car would be waiting for him when he came back for it. He tried to convince them to sell it, but they wouldn’t hear of it.
He had cried again when he saw that the envelope with the cash they handed him had considerably more money in it than they had agreed upon. Michael was obviously not at his most emotionally stable. He had helped work on this new car. It wasn’t fancy, it wasn’t powerful, but it was dependable. After their hard work, it was in good condition and it would get him where he needed to go.
“Answer me, Michael. What’s going on?”
He had spent some time that morning cleaning out his bank account. All of his money from his High School graduation and birthdays since he was fourteen was in that account. Added to the money from his car, he had a decent amount of cash to cover expenses for a while. He was able to withdraw from school online. That hadn’t taken too long. He then deleted his email and social media accounts. He had his own set of luggage, but stopped on his way to the house at an army/navy surplus store and picked up two duffle bags. He then went two stores down and had a new cell phone activated and canceled his current phone.
He walked past her and threw one of the bags in the back seat. As he grabbed the last bag and moved towards the door, she tried again.
“Michael! You may be eighteen and legally an adult, but I’m still your mother. Where are you going?”
He thought that he was able to maintain a facade of indifference as he turned to her but realized how wrong he was when she backed away from him. She started to raise her arm as if she thought he might strike her. It sounded like someone else’s voice as he finally addressed her.
“Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that again. You’re not my mother and I’m not your son. You’ll never see me again, you cunt.” She took a shaky step back. “I left a note for Maddie and Dad on the kitchen table. I didn’t tell them that you were fucking the kid that bullied me for years. I told them some bullshit about needing to find myself and that I would reach out again in a year or so. I’m too much of a coward to break my father’s heart and Maddie idolizes you and I couldn’t hurt her.”
Her body slumped slightly, and she covered her mouth as she gasped. It was her only movement. She looked as if she would have started sobbing if her body let her.
“I withdrew from school this morning and I’m leaving the state. Don’t try to find me. Don’t try to contact me. Don’t apologize. Don’t offer any excuses. You’re dead to me. The minute you try to reach out to me Dad and Maddie will find out what really happened. Your parents will find out. Your sister will find out. I hope he was good. I loved you since the day I was born, and you took that love and everything I felt for you and traded it for some cock between your legs. Was it worth it?”
She fell to her knees with an anguished sound that seemed to be wrenched from her soul. She tried to reach for him. He walked out the door, got in the car and drove away.
He hadn’t noticed the fifteen-year-old girl in her room. She was standing near the door clutching the knob with a look of despair on her face. Why would he notice her? She wasn’t supposed to be home until tomorrow.
Six years went by as he worked, studied and attended medical school. It took him a few months to legally change his name, but it was a much more routine process than he expected. He had to explain to the judge that he was estranged from his family, he had to prove his current identity with his driver’s license and passport and he had to pay a nominal fee. Michael Lerner became Jason Albright and continued his new life.
He paid for college for the first three years by working in garages. Jim and Tommy Callahan were the only people from his old life that he remained in contact with and even they had only had a rough idea of where he was and what he was doing. They were always there for him. They gave him excellent references when he needed them for a new job, they constantly tried to get him to take money, they kept an eye on his sister and, true to their word, and they kept his car waiting for him.
Both his sister and father had reached out to them numerous times for any information on him, but they were as determined as he was to remain quiet and they kept his confidences.
He monitored his sister’s social media and ached for how much pain he had clearly caused her and their father. She posted less and less frequently until she stopped entirely about a year after he left. The twins relayed what information they gleaned from mutual friends. She had graduated near the top of her high school class and was attending college.
They hadn’t heard anything about her being in any trouble. From what they could gather, she dated infrequently. They said that their mutual friends described her as bookish and a little withdrawn. That concerned him a bit as she had always been the most outgoing member of their family.
Forging a new life was difficult and he kept sliding back into isolation, but he fought against it. He joined study groups and made an effort to socialize. He would attend movies with groups of people he knew from school when his schedule allowed it. There was a very informal softball team that he joined that was part of a relaxed school league. It would have been easy to become a workaholic hermit, but he fought the tendency.
He started applying for scholarships again before his second semester. With his name change, he was more confident that he couldn’t be tracked through legal paperwork. With a marketable trade, scholarships and the money he had left with, he was doing better financially than most students. He found a small apartment in a section of town that wasn’t prosperous but also wasn’t dangerous. It was above a small diner that served more like a coffee shop and he spent a lot of his time studying there. The owners were also his landlords.
The shop felt like something out of the previous century, which it turned out it was. They made most of their money with the three coffee trucks they owned and ran. The shop was where they made the sandwiches and baked goods for the trucks and they kept it open for the regular customers who still came by. Jason was surprised to find that the food was actually excellent. Mrs. Grandino was a fantastic cook. The food was a sideline to the coffee but deserved much more attention than it received. He felt like he was in on a local secret.
He was reading a textbook and taking notes while enjoying an omelet in one of the booths when he heard some cursing in a frustrated voice. Mr. Grandino was complaining about the “piece of crap trucks” behind the shop while Mrs. Grandino talked to him softly. Making his way to the back he hesitantly interrupted his landlords.
“Hey, sorry, don’t mean to interrupt, but can I lend a hand? Is there a problem with the truck?”
A pleasant looking woman with what seemed to be a Mediterranean heritage; Mrs. Grandino looked over to him. She was wearing one of her shirts with a repeating pattern of pineapples. Where does she find those things, Michael wondered?
“That’s very sweet, Jason, thank you. I think we’re going to need a mechanic though. I appreciate it and we will definitely remind you of our booth rental fees when you’re a famous doctor.” She smiled at him and looked back to her husband.
“Actually, I am a mechanic. ASE certified and everything. I’ve been working on cars since I was thirteen. It’s how I pay my bills while going to school. I’d be happy to take a look if you’d like. Which one is it?”
Mr. Grandino looked over at him, seeming to reevaluate Jason as he did so. “Actually, that would be great. Thanks. It’s both of them. The third truck is on the road and then we freaking lose these two on the same day. Just our luck. And less than a month after I shelled out more than I’d like to think about on maintenance.” Mr. Grandino was a stocky man, about an inch or so shorter than his wife’s five foot ten. They both had dark eyes and hair, but where she looked Mediterranean, he had a more Irish or Welsh appearance.
Jason had both of the trucks on the road within two hours and washed up before he got changed for work. It wasn’t so bad now, but it was going to be hot later and the wind seemed to be picking up every piece of grit in a five block radius. He stopped in the shop’s kitchen before he left and spoke to Mrs. Grandino, who was assembling some baklava.
“Do me a favor and see me before you have someone work on the trucks. I didn’t see anything on either one that should have cost much of anything last month. I don’t know what maintenance they were doing, but I’d feel more comfortable if I took a look first.”
He never paid for another meal at the coffee shop and Mrs. Grandino often had a bag with some treats for him as he left for school or the clinic he volunteered at. He did some minor maintenance on the trucks and offered advice when anything major came up. They became more like an aunt and uncle than landlords and once they found out when his birthday was, he always received small, thoughtful gifts for both his birthday and Christmas. Thankfully, it was never any of the pineapple tchochkies that she loved so much.
He liked the middle-aged couple a great deal and wondered if there was some transference at work. Regardless of what he knew now, he missed his father and he missed who he had thought that his mother was.
Jason eventually quit working in auto shops and started working part time at two clinics for low income families. It gave him some practical experience and the ability to see a working medical environment that was stripped of the romanticism of the media and academia. He made considerably less money, but he had some savings and considered it an investment in his future.
He still enjoyed working on his car and kept the one that he had traded for six years earlier. His skills as a mechanic and his willingness to help his fellow struggling students kept his love life chugging along, but he never had a relationship that lasted more than six months. Being a good looking med student who was happy to help a girl with any car problems proved to be a great door opener. Being a genuinely nice guy helped keep some of those doors opened.
Those relationships certainly helped, but in spite of the emotional barriers that he built up, he missed his family intensely. The only way he knew how to deal with that feeling of loss was to build more walls. His inability to be emotionally open and accessible limited his romantic relationships and kept them superficial. There were some women that he wanted to have a deeper relationship with, but he couldn’t force himself to break down the walls that would make that possible.
He saw Mr. Grandino outside on a cold Thursday morning. He saw the couple almost daily, but usually together. Mr. G called out to him as Jason walked to his car.
“Listen, I’ve never said anything about this to you, but if my wife gets too much into your business, let me know and I’ll talk to her.”
Jason smiled but was a little confused.
“No, everything’s fine. I appreciate it though. What’s going on?”
“Well, I’ve been recruited for her latest plan. She’ll probably talk to you about it tomorrow. She wants you to bring back some girl to the apartment but let her know first, my wife that is. She’ll have me put an almost ready meal in your oven so you can ‘wow’ this girl by being such a great cook. My wife’s proud of her cooking, well you know that, and she thinks that no woman will be able to resist a man who knows his way around a kitchen.”
Smiling, he shook his head as he looked at the younger man.
“She’s making plans without even knowing if you have a girl to bring. She really cares about you, Jason. We both do. She’s concerned. You don’t seem to bring friends by and she doesn’t see you with any girls and ... You sort of seem, I don’t know, sad or remote or something. She worries.”
Jason was touched. Mrs. G often had some of her snacks for him when he left for campus and she looked a little hurt the first few times he turned them down. He was trying not to take advantage of their generosity, but she clearly wanted him to enjoy them. She would also try to subtly slip in some other items when she thought they were needed. He received more than one container of industrial strength hand cleanser. He got the message and was a bit more diligent about the grease and oil from work. She purchased a new white tee shirt for him every few months and he got that message as well. Some of his older work shirts got retired. Mr. G would decorate his door for Christmas and always left a newspaper on his door mat. He was a big fan of self-help gurus and Jason would periodically receive Amazon boxes with books by Tony Robbins, Wayne Dwyer, Joe Calloway, and their ilk.
“I know that we’re not, well, we’re your landlords and if we overstep any...”
Jason impulsively stepped forward and hugged him.
“I love you guys. More than you know. Don’t worry about it. I’m fine and we’re cool.”
When Jason let go, Mr. G. stepped back a little sheepishly.
“Well, ok then.”
Jennifer first noticed him in their biochemistry class. He was cute and buff and stood out from the rest of the guys in the class. She followed him to the vending machines during one of the study groups they were both in and made casual conversation while getting a hot chocolate. While pleasant enough, he didn’t seem interested. They chatted a few more times over the ensuing weeks, but that’s all that it was. Either he wasn’t picking up on her interest or he just didn’t care.
It was an unseasonably cool, wet fall evening when she couldn’t get her car to turn over. It was a clunker that her parents had given her. It was more than they could afford, really, but she was extremely grateful. She knew how tight money was for them and how much of a sacrifice it must have been to make the purchase. At least once a month a random warning light popped up that had her praying to the auto gods to just get her to campus.
It started to drizzle as she popped the hood. She held a piece of cardboard she had found in the backseat over her head as she stood in front of the car staring at the engine. She didn’t know why she even bothered to get out of the car. She knew nothing about engines. She had a triple A card and she could call them, but they would take her to a local garage and she couldn’t afford that. Waiting a few hours until her father could pick her up seemed like the best option, but she would have to contact campus security and make sure the car wasn’t towed.
“Having a problem?”
Jason stood behind her, hands keeping warm in his jean pockets and his sandy blond hair matted down from what was now a light rain. He looked good.
“Yeah, it won’t start.”
“Why don’t you try to turn her over and we’ll see if it’s something simple.”
“Do you know anything about cars?”
Half an hour later she had called the security office to explain the situation and he was driving her home. He determined that it was the ignition switch but there were no auto parts stores open at the hour. He promised to take care of it the next day. She promised to let him if she could buy him dinner and pay for the switch.
Things still proceeded frustratingly slowly in Jen’s mind, but they did spend time together often in the next two weeks. They went to movies with groups of friends and the two of them met up for lunch or coffee.
He was concerned about another problem with her car and they were using her parent’s garage to check it out. Her parents were at work and she was in the house making dinner as he worked under the car. Jason had been working for about an hour and was getting thirsty.
He heard the side door open as she entered the garage. He assumed she brought him something to drink and continued what he was doing.
“Hey yourself. Gonna be much longer?”
Her voice sounded odd. He attributed it to the acoustics.
“Nope, maybe twenty minutes.”
She didn’t reply, and he continued putting parts back where they belonged. She squatted down, slipped her hand into his jeans and grabbed his cock. Shocked and trying to sit up, he slammed his forehead into a bracket for the exhaust pipe.
He slid out and looked around for a clean rag as he felt the bleeding start. She looked horrified.
“Oh, crap. I’m so sorry. Let me get a towel. That was so stupid. I thought it would be sexy if I ... I’ll be right back.”
She started to get up and he grabbed her hand.
“No, its fine. I was just ... startled. Seriously, it’s fine but a paper towel or something clean would be great.”
She led him into the house and then into the bathroom where he sat on the toilet cover while she cleaned the cut and put a small bandage on it. She was standing very close and he could distinctly smell her perfume mixed with her own personal scent. He was looking up at her face and her breasts were almost at eye level. They were a perfect handful and her tee shirt was maybe a size too small. Jason kept flashing back to her touch in the garage. It was startling but exciting. Growing stiff, he pulled her down to him and kissed her deeply. She responded passionately and started pulling her shirt off. They broke the kiss long enough for her to remove the shirt and immediately went back to their embrace.
He hungrily thrust his tongue into her mouth as he tried to stand and pull off his jeans while simultaneously unhook her bra. The balancing act failed as he fell back to the seat. They both issued a low laugh as she removed the bra for him and he pulled his pants off. He went back to kissing her as he kneaded her breasts, slowly running his thumbs over the nipples.
Her head fell back, and she stared at the ceiling as his mouth made its way down from her mouth to her neck to her tits. He continued to grope her left breast as he sucked the rubbery, elongated nipple on the right. Her areolas were large and dusky in color. He moved his mouth from one breast to the other before she stopped him and slid down to her knees.
She waited for a second in that position, looking up at him before yanking down his boxers. His painfully erect cock sprung free as she chuckled again.
“I guess he’s as tired of waiting for this as I’ve been.”
She kissed the head of his cock and then the side of his shaft twice before using her hand to grab some of the accumulating precum from its tip. She stroked him three or four times and then took less than half his dick in her mouth. She continued to stroke the shaft as she swirled her tongue around the head. She alternated between stroking his shaft and gently massaging his large balls, but she never took more than half his cock in her mouth and never fully released the swollen, purple head.
His hands tightened in her hair and she felt him grow more rigid while his balls started to lift up. She pushed her mouth all the way down against his close-cropped pubic hair and took him in her throat. When she started to hum, he came violently, releasing volley after volley of jism down her throat. She took almost all of it, but some leaked out the side of her mouth as she eventually pulled back and wiped some of the tears from her eyes.
She smiled up at him seductively. “You must have really needed that. I thought I was going to choke to death at the end there.”
He was bracing himself against the walls and the sink as he wasn’t sure if his legs had the strength to hold him up.
“That was amazing! I’ve never been with anyone that could do that. You’re amazing.” He was starting to repeat himself as he lowered himself back down to the toilet cover. She smiled over at him again as she put her bra and shirt back on and she rinsed her mouth out at the sink.
Thirty minutes later they were setting the table and thirty minutes after that they were having dinner with her parents.
Jennifer started staying over a couple nights a week. She told her parents it was to save on the commute time and that she was staying with a friend, but she was fairly sure that they knew what was going on. At the very least, she was confident that her mother did.
Her birthday was in early December and he had a full day planned. He made sure that he was off from work and they were both done with classes by noon. He tried to plan everything out perfectly. Her mother helped him with some of the details and kept the itinerary a secret. His discretionary income for the next month or two will be destroyed by the end of the day, but he couldn’t remember being this happy in a long time.
He packed up his trunk, drove to campus and found a parking space close to where their last class would be. He found it difficult to concentrate during the lecture. He wasn’t nervous, just anxious to get going. She kept holding his arm and pulling close to him as they made their way to the car. Jennifer tried to pry information out of him, but he made her wait.
They had been driving for over an hour when he asked if she was hungry. Their destination was another fifty or so miles ahead, so he suggested that they stop in the city they were passing. He found a parking spot fairly close to a large museum and grabbed the picnic basket from the trunk. They ignored the chill in the air as they ate on the steps. There was a baguette, some grapes, an assortment of French cheese and more than a pound of sliced Jambon de Bayonne. The ham was an extravagant addition that he vacillated on, but it turned out to be worth it.
After they put the basket back in the trunk, she looked at him and seemed a little torn.
“Do you think we have a few minutes to check out the museum?”
He pretended to fret and looked at his watch. “Yeah, I guess. We could probably swing it if we hurry. Maybe fifteen or twenty minutes?”
As they reached for their student ID’s to get the discounted entrance she looked up and saw the huge sign just inside passed the cashier. She shrieked, and mock punched him in the shoulder. Her mother had told him how much she loved Mattise. She had lithographs of his work on the walls of her room and had read every biography of the artist she could find. He stood their grinning at her.
“You set this up!” She tried to look stern but couldn’t hold back the smile. “The french picnic, we just happened to be on the steps of the museum, they just happen to have a Mattise exhibit.” She stepped forward, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. They heard the cashier clear her throat and Jason quickly paid so they could go in.
After spending an hour of Jennifer being enraptured by the paintings and Jason being bored out of his mind, he checked his watch.
“We really do need to get going. This is just the first stop.”
She reluctantly put her arm through his; stared wistfully at the last painting for another minute and they made their way back to the car.
As a little girl, she had dreamed about being a professional ice skater. She also wanted to be a Disney princess. In her mind, they were about equal. She laughed with joy as they pulled into the ice-skating rink’s parking lot.
“We’ve got about two hours here and a lot of that time is going to be taken up with me falling over. I have no idea what I’m doing and I’m going to make an ass out of myself. I’m gonna need your help.”
He clearly didn’t enjoy the skating and he truly was horrible. He’d never turned her on more. He was doing something for her that he didn’t enjoy and was risking his ego while doing it. She was getting anxious to turn back home so they could spend some time alone.
“This has been one of the best days of my life, Jason. Thank you. I mean that. I’ve loved every minute.” She looked at him as she held his hands in hers.
“Our day isn’t over yet, nerd. Did you think that I randomly chose an ice-skating rink this far from home for no reason?”
“Nerd?” She laughed. “Ok, where to now?”
When they pulled into the parking lot of the Hilton a few miles away she started laughing again. The billboard on the street advertised Dancing Queen, an Abba cover band. He loved metal and the farthest thing away from metal that he tolerated was classic rock. She loved pop music and was a closet Abba fan ever since she was a child listening to their music with her grandmother as she learned to cook. Her grandmother would dance her around the kitchen as they sang along to the lyrics. He found out about her love for the band a few weeks ago and gently teased her about it.
“Let’s go, nerd.”
They parked and went inside. He paid their entrance fees and they went into the spacious bar. There were maybe thirty patrons who were clearly there for the band. The others seem to be people who drifted in from other parts of the hotel. The band wasn’t that good, but they had a great time and danced to every song.
When the band finally packed up, she asked him if he was ok to drive. They had both been drinking.
“Drive? We’re not going anywhere. You have luxury accommodations right here Madame.”
“Well Mr. Albright,” she looked up at him and spoke with her best southern belle accent “what sort of lady do you take me for?” They laughed and headed towards the front desk.
“Stay here. I’ve got a bag for you in the trunk under the tarp.”
He returned with two bags, they got their keys and made their way to their room.
Jason dropped the bags to the left of the door when it opened, picked her up and carried her to the edge of the bed. He put her down and she lifted her arms as he started to remove her shirt. As he tugged her jeans down to her ankles, she removed the bra. He gently pushed her, and she fell on her back onto the bed. He stared down at her for a moment as his excitement built and crouched down to pull off her sneakers and the jeans. He left the socks on and slowly pulled down her insanely sexy boy-shorts panties.
He leaned forward and kissed his way down from her belly button to her cute landing strip. He spread her legs placed his head at her upper thighs, blowing lightly on her shaved lips before kissing his way down her right leg. Looking up he could see that she had grabbed the comforter on the bed with her fists as she looked down at him.
“Don’t tease me, Jason.”
He grinned wolfishly as he made his way up her left leg. Her aroma was heady and rich and pushed his reptilian brain to the forefront. He was fully erect as he lapped at her wetness that had started to flow more heavily. Kneeling beside the bed and leaning forward he had his hands on her thighs keeping them open.
“Uhhhhhh. Jason, oh, ohhhh...” she murmured as he continued.
Jason licked her outer lips before parting them and concentrating on the inner labia. After a minute or so he briefly flicked his tongue over her clit and moved back to her outer lips. She started writhing back and forth as he continued; only visiting the clit briefly.
“Jason, now. Don’t make me wait...” she groaned.
He parted her more deeply, thrust his tongue in, fucking her with it, going back to teasing the clit and eventually moving back to the switching between her lips. She periodically pounded the bed with her fist as she hunched her hips towards him. He decided she had waited long enough laid his tongue flat on her clit and licked upwards.
“Yes, uggghhh, yes, do it ... so good” her words became indistinct as she continued to moan and vocalize.
He easily inserted two fingers in her hot, wet channel and moved them in and out at a steady pace, gradually increasing in speed. He quickly flicked his tongue against her pearl as he inserted the fingers deeply and curled the tips backwards as he hit her g-spot. She gushed into his mouth and screamed her release as he moved up to hold her while she shuddered. Slaking his need, they then made love and fell asleep.
Heart pounding fiercely, he woke up in the middle of the night. Feeling nauseous, Jason sat up quickly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He leaned forward and held his head in his hands with his elbows on his knees and gasped in breaths of air. He heard Jen stir next to him.
“Jay,” she murmured half asleep “everything ok?”
“Yeah, just gotta use the bathroom.” Concentrating on walking with a normal gait, he made his way to the bathroom without alerting Jennifer that there was a problem. He sat down on the toilet for a minute or two and then got up to splash some water on his face. His heart beat slowed, and the nausea dissipated.
He stood by her side of the bed, gazing down at her. The scant light from the street-facing window kept her face in half shadows. He leaned over and tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear as she lay on her side. She hated her hair. Jen thought it was a dull and boring brown, common and pedestrian. He loved it. Her hair, to Michael, was warm and rich. For some reason, it reminded him of the early fall and freshly tilled earth.
He heard her breathing change as she reached up sleepily and grasped his arm lightly, lovingly in her hand before tucking it back under her pillow. Sighing, he made his way around the bed, slipped in and soon fell back asleep.