Seeing what I could only describe as the wreckage of bodies on my couch as I walked to my kitchen on Thanksgiving morning made me appreciate the moment as something very rare. It was the most beautiful accident scene I had ever witnessed. The smaller young lady lay with her leg across the muscular, older man. The contrast of her white skin over his tan Puerto Rican body could not have been better planned if I had commissioned the best artist in the world to create the painting for me. Her hair, dyed half black and half red, spread over his slowly rising and falling chest as they both slept deeply and peacefully as one.
Kalie reminds me so much of myself at eighteen. With my relationship with my daughter non-existent and Kalie's relationship with her parents at about the same level, we have become very close. I never imagined this in my wildest dreams.
Kalie came to work at the restaurant I was general manager of and stood out from the crowd immediately. She transferred from a Tennessee location, so she was nothing like the other girls. My crew of servers were hard working or outgoing. Being one or the other gave us the reputation of great customer service.
Kalie was both, and also took charge immediately. It did not make her popular among the others, but they followed her anyway. She immediately became my favorite. If it had not been for me having to leave because of something I would rather not get into at the moment and Kalie planning to leave for college, I am sure I would have had her in management by now.
My husband, David, has always been a fan of hers.
"I am so going to hell," he would joke when he saw her.
They have not moved after I return from the kitchen. After putting the turkey in the oven, I sat on the loveseat to watch the Thanksgiving Parade with my bowl of stuffing I have been thinking of all year.
I should be watching my show but I cannot keep my eyes off of them.
The elegant curve of her back. The arch of her foot hugged tightly to his calf.
Mac's eyes roll under his eyelids like he is dreaming of something. He thinks his imagination is better than the present moment. He is smiling. Though, he is always smiling.
I want to kiss them both awake, but this is not my dream.
I met Mac a few years ago when David and I were really into the cuckold thing. He would have me bring home men and make love while he quietly watched. I never really understood it, but it turned him on. It made him happy, and it gave me an audience, so I got off on it too. I started talking to Mac on Facebook and had an instant connection with him. He reminded me a little of Roland. Not as obnoxious, but always funny.
He has this annoying habit of putting his cigarettes out in ashtrays by standing them up in the holders and smashing them in. His Marlboro spiked four ashtrays in the room.
There is a lingering smell of stale smoke and sex that my Thanksgiving dinner will soon overwhelm.
My brain remembers each smell the same way. As a special reward full of wonderful memories.
Running into Mac was a happy accident after I got tickets to see Los Lobos playing at Solana Beach. He works at The Belly Up Tavern and could sneak Kalie in after David ended up working on the night we were supposed to go.
Kalie and I bounced down the highway in my red Chevy Suburban on our way to the concert.
Explaining who Los Lobos was to an eighteen-year-old hadn't been as frustrating as I had thought it would be. Just having her appreciate the chance to have a good time was enough for me. I like my house and I hate people, but sometimes I have to be set free so I can appreciate what I have.
I only knew of the band because my step dad watched La Bamba religiously when I was little. I knew more about the Buddy Holly crash than any five-year-old girl should know.
We met Mac's smile at the back of the venue and he immediately grabbed me and kissed me hello. It was not a friendly kiss. His hands were on my ass like I owed him that.
"This must be Kalie," he said, his hands slipping from my backside and cupping one between my legs.
His voice is naturally rigid, but he lowers it a little for her. Not that I was jealous.
"You bringing that in here, huh?" He asked.
I can only smile.
"Did you want some?" I asked.
"I don't do that anymore," Mac grinned. "I don't do that any less either"
He brings his attention to my companion.
"I like your shirt," he tells her as he reaches out and runs a finger across the SC letters on her chest. "Red is my favorite color. We're letting a bull loose later. Should be fun"
I watch nervously as Kalie adjusts her nose ring. I had never seen her rattled before. A suddenly flustered girl struggled to position her body as she clearly had to think about breathing in and out.
My stomach sank as I found myself back in an old lifestyle. I had promised myself that writing these stories and even chatting in the Literotica groups would not make me think the way I have been. Addicts lie. Especially to themselves. It is all I think about again.
Getting lost in a crowd is easy. When people are close together, they ignore the people next to them more. A lot can be done when a person realizes that.
I reach down the front of my jeans and pull out the small flask. It is just red wine, but it could have been blood as far as anyone else knew.
My hand slips waist level between myself and Kalie and I hand her the drink. We are nothing except the crowd. Living as one in a shoulder to shoulder symbiosis.
I'm thinking about Red like I knew I would. Music brings it out even when you don't want it to. My forty years rush by. Every embarrassing moment, every mistake, everything I should have said and done.
"Take your bra off" I lean to Kalie's ear and whisper.
My top lip accidentally touched the fold of her ear. I am so close. I pull back enough to see her smile. She blushes but doesn't move.
I want to be told what to do but sometimes I think of better ideas. The thought of controlling her gets to me more than having the strings on myself.
Positioning myself behind her, I put my hands on her hips first. A subtle brush to begin with, but then more meaningful as my fingers close around her waist.
I remember her showing me a picture of Reese Witherspoon and telling me that is her lesbian crush.
"Oh, mommy," she said as she flashed the picture.
I wrap my left index finger in a belt loop and lock her in place as my right traces up her spine. It runs forward from the light touch at first before relaxing into it. Unsnapping her bra is quick. No teasing. It always seemed to me that when a man undid mine that fast, it showed me how vulnerable I was. There was nothing to save me from the mind that wanted to pull me inside.
My hand goes to her chest, just under the loosened cups of her bra.
"Mommy said take your bra off," I once again whispered close to her ear.
I had teased her with things in the chats. I saw the excitement in her face when I said things like following instructions from the men she was talking to. Even if she didn't realize the excitement was on her face, I did.
I pretended to watch the stage, but what was going on under me was the show. My hands are on her skin, just above her hips. My palms are sweating even against her chill. Kalie slips an arm inside of her shirt and then back out. Then the other arm does the same before she lets it fall off into my hand.
"Good girl," I tell her before I brought the bra between us and put it in my jacket pocket.
I feel her body shudder against mine and I can see goosebumps on the back of her neck.
The band plays a cover of Little Richard's "Rip It Up". I know this because my stepfather knows this.
My fingers lightly trace across her nipples. I hate my nipples played with and her response isn't anything more than the natural way anyone would respond. I was told once that it's good to be out of your comfort zone sometimes when you're being submissive.
What is important to me at the moment is that she is letting me do it. I am in charge here. She no longer has control.
I rake my nails lightly down her tight stomach and feel her muscles tense under the tickle. One more time across her skin until I know I've left marks. Not enough to scar, but just enough that I can imagine the long red stripes down her stomach.
We move our hips together. It still feels awkward to lead. I feel like my reflection in the mirror has just found out she is the real one and I am inside the mirror.
Her hands move back and balance her weight on my body. She weighs next to nothing. I can remember being that small a lifetime ago. Her frame is very much the same, although her breasts are more than I have ever had. I cup my hands over them and let her rub her ass against my lap.
I wish the flask down my pants was the cock that she needed. The one that she deserved.
The past started letting go of me, and for once, it was this moment that mattered. Everything from Red to the embarrassment of losing my job over an affair at work. An affair that was on camera because I failed to realize there was a camera in the cooler. I'm still not sure if I should show my face even to video chat or if I should just keep going too far.
I pull her closer with my hand to her stomach and then move my right hand to the front of her jeans and push my fingers downward. I have no intention of going any further than to the first knuckle. Not yet anyway. It's enough to sense her heat. Feel her breath rise and fall. Feel her yearning for more and more.
"I want to let every man here fuck you," I tease in her ear.
I leave my mouth there now and let her feel my breath. I inhale and exhale nothing else but the thoughts that come to mind as my fingers tease at the waist of her panties. How I would love to see her passed around the top of the crowd and stripped naked. Dropped slowly to the floor as the men circled around her with their cocks out. All of them being eager to use her mouth for their pleasure. Treating her like that was all she was good for. As if they made her for that moment. She's not dancing anymore. She's grinding back into me as if hypnotized by suggestions.
"Slut," I whisper after a long pause.
Her knees buckle a little, and I have to hold her up by her stomach.
"You need that, don't you?" I ask
She nods as I brush my nose across her strawberry smelling fields of hair. I wish my nose was between her legs and I was smelling her even more.
If she is half as horny as I am, I feel like I have done my job.
I'm holding her up for the rest of the set. Just over an hour the band plays in the intimate setting.
I lead Kalie by the hand through the crowd. I am careful not to lose her as I corral her like a child to the safety of the exit.
I feel Red's hands over my ears protecting me from the loud music like he used to have to do. I couldn't do it hard enough for myself to keep my head quiet. I never had control. Even now, the voices are screaming in my head.
I offer Mac a ride home after we talk awhile in the parking lot.
"You drive," I tell him. "I don't want to follow directions right now"
It comes out in an unintended double meaning, but I was honestly just too distracted for him to tell me how to get to his house.
He laughs.
"We could just go to my house," I suggest as he pulls out on Cedros Avenue.
We were quickly on the highway and headed back to San Diego.
I have always loved the highway at night. The lights, the sounds of the tires rolling subtly beneath conversation and radio. The light massage to the seat of the engine moving.
"Take your pants off" I turn in my seat and order Kalie.
The buildup of embarrassment rolls over on me. It's unexpected, as I wait to see if she will. I stretch out my hand, wanting her to hand them over.
Kalie hesitates for a second. It's just long enough for us both to look over at Mac and see him smiling from ear to ear.
"Don't worry about him right now," I assure her.
She looks back at me, and I can see hell just beneath her brown eyes. A knowing glow of a storm coming to the surface.
