Civilian

The motor turned, and Coldplay filled the car.

“Is this on the radio?” I asked. “Funny, radio really used to suck here. It’s good they play Coldplay.”

“The radio here still sucks,” Cheryl said, looking over her shoulder as she backed from the parking space. “That’s a CD.”

“Oh, nice,” I smiled.

She smiled back.

At my offer to leave the bar, Cheryl had hopped from her stool and picked up her bag. It was as if she had simply been waiting to be asked.

I excused myself to say good night to my brother. Cheryl sought out Linda.

“Well, we are off,” I told Jesse, feeling a little sheepish to have him know that I was going to get laid.

“Okay,” he smiled. He pulled me close for instructions. “Cheryl lives way the fuck out in the next county, so y’all go to my place. You can use the guest bedroom upstairs—she’ll know which one. The front door is locked, but you can get in through the garage. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Okay, then.” He patted me on the back, then thought better of it, and pulled me into an embrace. “Have fun, bro.”

“Thanks. You have fun too.”

“I will,” he smiled. “But not as much as you, I reckon.”

Jesse walked over to say good night to Cheryl. I passed the other direction to say goodbye to Linda.

“TJ, you have fun tonight,” she said, pulling me into an embrace.

“Okay,” I said into her shoulder.

“And you be careful.”

“Okay.”

“And you be nice to Cheryl.”

“Okay.”

“We’ll try not to make noise when we get home.”

“Okay.”

Linda kept me close.

“Linda?” I asked.

“Yes, sugar?”

“If you don’t let go, I’ll have to take you with us.”

Linda pulled back and laughed. “Oh, you are too much. Get out of here and let me drink with my friends.”

I kissed her cheek and found Cheryl.

“You ready?” I asked

“Yeah,” she smiled.

Jesse and Linda rejoined the cluster at Brenda’s table. Brenda watched as I held the door for Cheryl. She flicked an ash and turned to Jesse.

“I think Cheryl wants to fuck your brother,” she said flatly.

Jesse sipped his beer. “Well . . . shit, yeah, she does. Where’ve you been?”

Cheryl and I made small talk about music as she pulled out of the lot. There were very few cars on the road after midnight.

I kept up my end of the conversation as I looked out the passenger window. I felt a little like a child being shuttled to a play date with a kid he didn’t know, his head full of assurances from grown ups that it will be fun, really, just have fun.

We approached an all-night convenience store. Cheryl was telling a story about an upcoming trip to Vegas.

“Hey, pull in there,” I interrupted. “We need to buy condoms.”

“Oh, good idea,” she said, turning the wheel. “Glad you thought of that.”

This reassured me, somehow. We’d made no mention of sex, though it was clearly on the table. Purchasing condoms would put sex front and center, a situation that seemed more familiar than riding along and chatting about Vegas with someone I had known for about two hours.

She followed me into the store. We leaned over the counter, peering past the clerk to look at the boxes hanging from metal hooks.

There were four varieties of condoms. At that distance, I couldn’t make out the print on the boxes, but I recognized the trademark colors of Trojan, my least favored of the most popular brands.

“Trojans, Trojans,” I muttered. “Do you have any adverse reactions to lubricated condoms?”

“Excuse me?” the clerk asked.

“I was talking to her, actually,” I said, indicating Cheryl.

“No,” she said, a little confused. “I mean, I don’t know. I never thought about it.”

“Well, let’s get the regular ones, then. That’s usually best anyway.” I reached for my wallet. “The reddish box, please.”

The clerk reached for the pale blue box. “These?”

Cheryl pointed. “No, the red one, on the right.”

The clerk looked at her hands to work out right from left, then retrieved the correct box.

God help the kids too mortified to ask for condoms, I thought, putting a ten on the counter.

Cheryl drove to Jesse’s house. She parked in the driveway, near the garage door.

We looked at one another.

“Jesse said the door to the garage is unlocked,” I said.

“Okay,” Cheryl replied.

I smiled and opened my door.

She picked up the bag of condoms and opened her door.

We turned on lights as we went upstairs. Cheryl pointed out the guest room and walked down the hall to a bathroom.

I used the bathroom off the guest room and sat on the bed, waiting for her return.

She stood in the door. I stood and took her hand. We kissed for the first time.

I held her close, my erection firm against her hip.

I pulled back and smiled. I began to unbutton her shirt.

Cheryl looked up at me. “I hope you aren’t disappointed,” she said.

“What a thing to say,” I said, opening her shirt and caressing the top of her breast.

“No, I just mean . . . well, I’ve never actually cum with anyone.”

That’s not a challenge, I told myself. Some women don’t cum from intercourse, I told myself. Just leave it be, I told myself.

Of course, I couldn’t leave it be.

I thought, at that moment, of my boyfriend Marcus, the professional whore.

I remembered how he always treats his clients to the best sex he’s got in him. No one gets a half-hearted fuck from Marcus.

Cheryl didn’t know about my sex life, which is undoubtedly more varied and active than her own.

She was, in that respect, something of a civilian compared to those of us in the trenches.

What if, I thought, I didn’t just fuck her, like most men she has known?

What if I did as Marcus would do, and gave her the best sex I can manage? Just because I can?

I unfastened her bra. “Don’t worry about that,” I said. “Let’s just relax and enjoy it.”

“Okay,” she nodded. I cupped her breasts in my hands, and took a nipple in my mouth.

Her breathing skipped.

My mouth traveled up her chest to her shoulders, then her neck. I drew her into a deep kiss.

My fingers unfastened her jeans.

My mouth traveled down her body. I crouched before her, lowering her jeans slowly down her thighs, past her knees, to her feet.

I lifted her feet gently, first one, then the other, and removed her jeans.

My hands roamed up her legs and torso, lightly touching her breasts. I nuzzled my nose and lips against her panties.

I took the waistband in my teeth. I tugged them down with my fingers, bringing my mouth down with them.

Cheryl trembled.

I looked up. She was entirely nude. I was fully dressed.

“Your body is so soft,” I said. “You look really lovely without clothes.”

“Thanks,” she said in a quiet voice, deep in her throat.

I stood and took her face in my hands. I kissed her again.

“Lay back on the bed,” I said.

“Okay.” She stepped toward the bed. “Are you going to take off your clothes?”

“Yes,” I said, making no effort to do so.

She lay down.

I removed her glasses and looked through the lenses. “You can’t see me very well now, can you?”

“No,” she laughed.

I put the glasses on a nightstand.

“That’s fine,” I said. “You may even want to close your eyes now and then.”

I leaned over to kiss her cheek. My fingers and mouth traced over her body. She closed her eyes, turning her head slightly.

I parted her thighs.

Her pubic hair was full, light and sandy blonde.

My tongue found her wet. She lay very still, very quiet, as I licked her open.

I found her clit, sucking it gently as my fingers wet her labia with my saliva and her moisture.

I caressed her torso and breasts with my left hand. Two fingers of my right hand slid into her, curving up.

She gasped, arching her back.

I followed her reactions, moving harder and faster then backtracking, fine tuning my mouth and fingers to her responses.

She twisted slightly. I kept my eyes on her face, then her body.

“Unh,” she moaned. She stopped herself, as if the sound surprised her.

“Go, it’s good, go,” I muttered, calm.

She pushed down on my fingers. I held them firm, and kept my pressure steady.

Her pussy leaked into my palm.

Then it gushed as she came.

“Shit!” she whispered. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit . . .”

“I know, I know, give it, give it.”

Her body extended, tense and rigid. Then she went limp.

“That . . . ,” she began. “That . . . uh, I came . . .”

“Yes, you did,” I nodded. “Actually, you gushed.” I traced my soaked hand on her belly.

She looked down. “Really? I never did that.”

I pulled off my shirt. “It’s amazing what your body can do, really.”

She drew a deep breath as I entered her. I held her close and fucked her steadily until she came again.

She was surprised by how quickly it happened.

I suggested we try for another.

She was open to my suggestions.

For the next few hours, she did what I told her.

I told her to suck my cock. When she did, I told her to take it deeper.

I told her to turn over. I tongued her ass. She moaned that no one had ever done that. I dry humped her hole, regretting the absence of lube.

I spanked her. When she jumped. I spanked her harder.

She noticed the time around four. “I guess I should start heading home,” she said. “I have to work in the morning.”

“Spread your legs,” I replied.

I fucked her until she was too dry to continue. Then I fucked her face.

I pulled her close as I drifted to sleep.

She was gone when I woke in the morning.

“Did y’all have fun?” Jesse asked as we had coffee.

“Yeah, that was nice,” I said. “Give me her number, okay? I want to check on her later.”

By ten, I was on the road, driving my niece’s car to the lake. I called Cheryl.

“Hey darling,” she drawled. “Did you get any sleep?”

“Yeah, once you finally stopped fucking me.”

She laughed. “Oh, is that how it was?”

“That’s the way I tell it, yes.”

“Did you . . . did you tell Jesse anything?”

“Yes. I told him you are good for hours of hot sex.”

“You didn’t!”

“Of course I didn’t. What do you take me for? I don’t kiss and tell. So how’s work?”

“I can’t keep my eyes open,” she laughed. “And when I close my eyes, I can’t stop thinking about . . . . you know.”

“I know. If you weren’t at work, we’d still be at it.”

“Good thing I had to work,” she laughed. “I couldn’t take any more.”

“Amateur.”

“I guess I am,” she said. “So anyway, you’ve got my number. Call me when you're in town. I’d love to see you again.”

“Of course. I’d enjoy that.”

“Likewise.”

We said goodbyes.

That was nice, I thought, tossing the phone into the passenger seat. I turned up the radio.

I don’t imagine I’ll ever see her again.

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