As the engines idle, Jager walks to the widow, the mother, and the brother and greets them all with short hugs or handshakes. He hands them a patch in honor of their dead and pats them all on the shoulders. The women cry. The man stays sober, not daring to look Jager in his eye.
Jager then returns to his bike and slowly rides off. The second, third, and fourth row of men follow with their riders. I’m last to pick up the pack. It’s a place of honor. But I hate sharing it with a whore like Helena who is making sport out of the funeral by winking and flirting with every guy she comes across. I’m not an exception.
Even back at the bar, she’s all over me, demanding I buy her shots with the rest of the gang. She places one of the shot glasses to my lips, the cold glass forcing my lips open. She pops it back as I sink it down quickly. I rap my knuckles on the wood of the bar, “Another!”
Helena’s sitting on my lap by the time I’ve had four more. The smell of her perfume mixes with my whiskey and the feel of her soft skin rubbing against the skin of my hand is reminding me what life before this mess with Maddie and her teacher was like. This was the man I was supposed to be! Rough, raw, ready. Helena’s young little ass bouncing on my lap is what this is meant to be.
With each drink, I’m able to erase Michelle just a little bit more from my mind. I do my best to get rid of her smell, her taste, all her OCD bullshit -- how she places her pencils and desks in neat and even rows, how she wipes dirt off of things, how her purse is always perfectly organized in every little pocket. I push aside her sea foam pink lips and her long hair tickling my chest. I’m forgetting what it feels like to hold someone and to actually care if it means something to her.
No, tonight is all about Helena. She leads me by my hand towards the bathroom, and I don’t fight it. I don’t protest; I don’t even want to, not really. I want this as much as she does. We walk towards the side room with the big ‘Employees Only’ sign, and I push her forcefully up against the wooden plank walls. She lifts her arms above her head as I tear off her tank top, tossing it carelessly to the side. My hands immediately go for her breasts, feeling the round softness of her young, perky body.
Helena is luscious, the perfect specimen of women. Her enormous tits point straight out, nipples hard and at attention, calling out my name as I massage them eagerly, tweaking them, not giving a fuck if she likes it or not. She arches her back as she whispers lewdly, “Do you like them, Cal?”
I can’t answer her. I hate when my fuck partners talk like that. I just want to focus on the fantasy before me, not constantly reassure her. I punish her by taking the dark brown nipple on her left breast between my fingers and twisting hard – once – twice – three times. She sinks down towards her knees from the shock and the pain. I repeat it on the other side as she slams her hands into the wall. “Jesus!” she cries, “Fuck! You nasty motherfucker. So good, so very good!”
She returns the favor by wrapping her arms around my neck and jumping into my body. I catch her legs and wrap them around my hips. Her lips find mine and she plows her tongue in. I return it, kissing her eagerly ‘til I need air. But she continues to hold on, pulling me closer as if she just cannot get enough. She’s insatiable, which is exactly what I need tonight.
I spin her around and drop her onto the cement floor, not worrying too much about her comfort. If she wants to protest, she can. She doesn’t. Instead, she hitches her legs up, spreading them easily for me to sink down in between. I come back up to her breasts, opening my mouth and sucking on the nipples as she squeals in delight. Her body wiggles under me, her hips twisting as I use my tongue to draw vertical and horizontal lines across her sensitive, olive skin. I nibble on them, pulling on them with my teeth. She cries out in pleasure again, egging me on, so this time, I suck as hard as I can, then pull her nipple farther out with my teeth, stretching it. She screams, and I immediately send my hand up to her mouth, covering it. “Shut the fuck up,” I say looking her hard in the eyes, and she squeals with delight at my insistent command.
She wants it, and bad. She pulls off my shirt and throws it towards the door. I unhook my belt and pants and slide them off with my boots. I then slither my hips up the length of her body towards her head. As I rest on her shoulders, she looks up at me and my cock, already hard and alert for her.
“Suck,” I command. She props herself up on her arms and opens her mouth wide enough to take in my tip. I rock my hips forward and place it into her waiting red lips. Her tongue dances around my head. The sweet and wet sensation messes with my mind as much as the booze, as I lean back and hold on to her hips for balance. Another inch eases into her expanse, and her mouth continues to tease me.