The car was quiet when they drove off again. Lena started laughing.
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to laugh. It was just so funny when Benton grabbed your dick. I though you were gonna die," she said.
"I thought he was gonna pull out his dick and compare them," Ethan said and groaned.
Charlie laughed. "Maybe he just wanted some advice on how to make his bigger."
He drove right to the McDonald's and parked in a spot at the back of the parking lot beneath a tall, overhead lamp that bathed the car in a pale, bluish light.
"Can I get you anything?" Charlie asked as he got out.
"Nothing for me," Lena said.
Ethan pulled a couple of dollars out of his pocket and handed them to Charlie.
"Just a couple of double cheeseburgers," he said.
Charlie shut the door and left. Ethan and Lena were uncomfortably quiet together. Only the sound of the crickets all around them kept them company.
He glanced down at Lena's thigh, which was highlighted by the light coming in through the windshield. He was dying to say something to her. She was probably thinking what an idiot he was.
"I never smoked hash before," Ethan whispered, and winced as he heard the words coming out of his mouth.
Lena looked at him, a slight grin turning up the corners of her mouth.
"Never?"
"Why are we whispering?" Ethan said, and they both giggled like kids.
"I don't know. It's so quiet," Lena said softly.
She placed her hand on his thigh. Ethan stiffened. Her fingers were very close to the end of his erection.
"What's it like?" Ethan said.
"What's what like?"
"Hash."
"It's intense, not like weed. You'll love it." Her hand gently glided up his thigh to the ridge made by his penis. "You're still hard. Don't you ever go soft?"
"Not when I got a girl like you sitting so close."
His hand came up and squeezed her tit. Her nipple was a hard point under the thin, flimsy shirt.
Without another word, Lena tilted her head and kissed him. Her wet tongue pushed its way into his mouth. He couldn't believe how nervous she made him.
She climbed up on the seat. He slipped his hands down around her slim waist and lifted her all on his lap. Her legs parted and straddled him. Her warm mound pressed down on the hard lump in the front of his jeans. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him deeply, moaning faintly. His hands slid down her backside and squeezed her ass.
"You wanna fuck me, don't you?" Lena said with a deep breath.
"I think so," Ethan said.
"You think so?"
"Yeah."
"You wanna do it right now?"
"Yeah."
"Me too."
She reached down, opened his pants, and pulled out his erection. It stood straight up between them and she stroked it fast and hard. Ethan's hand slipped inside the back of her flimsy panties.
"Do these have a slit crotch?" he said.
"No. Tear them off," Lena said.
"Really?"
"Really. Do it."
He bunched them in his hands and pulled. She moaned and arched her back, pressing her tits into his face, but the panties didn't tear. He tried again, grunting with a hard tug. The fabric shredded in his hands like tissue.
"Yes, yes," Lena squealed. She raised herself on her knees and guided his cock between her legs. "I've been dying to know how this thing feels all night."
Ethan was too excited to speak. His heart pounded in his chest. Slowly, the warm, wet heat of her pussy envelope his cock as she lowered herself on it. She was deliciously tight. He groaned.
"Oh God ... Oh God ... Oh yes," Lena gasped, piercing herself deeper on his cock.
"Does it hurt?" Ethan said.
"Mm hm," Lena said between clenched teeth.
She continued to lower herself on his lap, gradually taking the entire shaft inside her, until all of her weight was resting on his lap. Her eyes fluttered open and gazed into his.
"I only thought I'd taken large men before."
"Are you just saying that to make me feel good?"
"Sort of," Lena admitted with a shrug and a smile. Her lean body began to move up and down in his lap. "That doesn't mean it hurt any less." She pulled her top up away from her tits.
Ethan nodded. "You have a point about that."
Lena groaned, baring her clenched teeth. Moving up and down in his lap created smacking sounds from her wet cunt.
"Of course I do. I know about guys like you. I date them all the time."
"Charlie's not like that."
"He doesn't count. We're just friends."
"Some friends. I don't know married people who fuck as often as you."
"Married people don't fuck, silly. They just watch tv," Lena said.
Ethan glanced at the driver's side mirror. Charlie was walking toward the car with a bag in each hand. He sighed. It was too soon to tell Lena tha they had to stop. He opened his mouth to speak when a car flashed by in the mirror. Charlie stopped in his tracks. The car door opened and a bunch of guys in Medford High School jackets got out.
"Get up," Ethan ssaid, and lifted Lena from his lap.
"What? What?" she said.
Ethan tossed her off and her hip hit the steering wheel.
"What the hell are you doing?" she said.
Ethan yanked his jeans up. "Charlie's in trouble."
Lena's expression instantly changed.
"Where?" she said, searching out the back window.
Ethan was out of the car in a hurry and ran toward the group of guys gathered around Charlie. From their brush cut hair, these probably weren't hockey guys, but football jocks. He would enjoy beating the shit out of them more than if they were on the Medford hockey team.
Two of the biggest guys he had ever seen were moving toward Charlie. One of them was pointing at him and saying something. Charlie could only back away. His jaw hung down and his eyes were wide open.
Ethan ran toward them as fast as he could, but was helpless to prevent Charlie from getting hit. He watched the big, ugly guy who had been pointing at him raise his fist and thrust it forward. It connected with Charlie's face with a vicious smack, flattening his nose and snapping his head back. He crumpled backward to the pavement, still clutching the bags in each hand.
Ethan shoved past a couple of the other guys and barreled into the guy who just hit Charlie. He launched himself into the wide form like he was checking him into the boards, his forearms up and his shoulders down, one of the things he was best known for on the ice.
Ethan collided with the football player's, knocking the wind out of him in a rush, lifting him off his feet and carrying him three or four feet. He dropped back to the parking lot with a thud.
Most of the other guys were too stunned to react. It had happened so fast and was so violently. The other big guy, however, responded with a sucker punch from behind that grazed Ethan's jaw.
He turned to face him, anger glowing in his eyes. He was heavy set, a round face with the round body of a lineman, and the expression on that face changed instantly when he looked into Ethan's eyes. He had been hit harder by junior varsity defensemen half the size of this oaf, who was quickly realizing that his punch did nothing more than draw attention to himself. Ethan's clenched fist whipped out and struck his jaw like a sledgehammer and nearly twisted his head all the way around. He dropped to his butt and grunted.
Ethan looked at the other guys. One or two of them had wide open eyes and mouths. He wondered briefly why none of them was moving toward him, then realized they were looking past him. He had forgotten about the first guy, who was probably coming up behind him. That was a mistake.
He spun around just in time to get punched in the face. It was a good, hard blow that caught him off guard and staggered him backward. The guy stepped forward and punched him again before he could get his feet set. His left fist connected with his jaw and jerked his head sideways. Ethan shook his head, tasting blood in his mouth.
He saw the next punch coming, a poorly telegraphed blow he easily deflected with his raised forearm. Before the football player could counter with his other fist, Ethan clocked him across his jaw with a quick right. The thug's head snapped back. Ethan popped him again with another right cross. His knees weakened and buckled, and he slumped to the ground.
Someone jumped on his back. Someone else grabbed his leg, and they dragged him to the ground. All he saw was a flurry of fists punching him and feet kicking. The last thing he heard before everything went black was the wail of a police siren.
* * * *
Ethan was embarrassed to be recognized by one of the doctors at the hospital, as well as a couple of the nurses and most of the staff. They kidded him about being in another fight. When he explained to Lena that he spent a lot of time in this hospital because of fights in hockey games, she laughed, covered her mouth with her hand, looked at him with uncertainty, and laughed again.
They were sitting on a bench against a wall in the hallway of the emergency room. Across the hall, on a similar bench, were three of the six football guys who had been fighting with Ethan. Standing in the center of the hall between them was Officer Shenton, with a disappointed look on his face. The other three football players were in one of the rooms along the hallway, one with a broken nose, one with a broken arm and one, the biggest of them all, with a broken jaw. Ethan had suffered a bloody nose, a swollen, cut lip, a nasty gash on his left cheek just below the eye from the oversized football player's trophy ring, a mild concussion and badly scraped knuckles on the back of his left hand. The gash required a dozen stitches and the overexuberant intern had bandaged his whole left hand.
The three guys facing them had suffered only scrapes and bruises. Not one of them could keep their eyes off Lena's long, bare legs, including Officer Shenton.
Finally, Charlie came out, followed by the young intern who had bandaged him. He was walking slowly, his head tilted back. It was a little extravagant for just a bandage over the bridge of his nose, but then, Charlie had never had it broken before. Ethan fought the urge to snicker and got up.
Lena rushed to him.
"Oh Charlie. Does it hurt?" she said, holding his arm and guiding him carefully.
Charlie just groaned. Ethan hoped he could hustle them out of there before the football guys started laughing at them behind their backs.
It was late when they got to Lena's apartment. Charlie had lost his appetite and wouldn't let them stop to get another dinner to replace the one lost in the fight. Ethan was starving, but he didn't say anything. He only followed Lena's directions to her apartment while she tended to Charlie in the back seat.
Charlie had been quiet since they left the hospital. Ethan watched him in the rearview mirror. He was a good guy, but not tough.
He sat beside Charlie on Lena's sofa while she went to the kitchen to get some aspirin. Charlie had his head tilted back and was breathing through his mouth when he began to chuckle.
"What?" he said.
