Fearless Curves

by D. H. Cameron

  “You’re staying, right?” I asked.

  “You bet your fat ass I am,” he told me. I giggled. I liked it when he said that though I wasn’t completely sure why. Shouldn’t a man calling my ass fat have been some sort of insult? In the moment, it was perfect though. He liked me for what I was and that felt nice. However, the light of day would surely change how I felt. Jack and I were different people and I knew nothing about him. But right then, I luxuriated in the aftermath of our dirty sex and reality was held at bay. If only we could have stopped time and stayed there forever.

  >>O<<

  I woke the next morning and found myself alone in my bed. However, I smelled what I was sure was French toast. I climbed out of bed and discovered I was still wearing one stocking. I guess I didn’t take it off before we climbed under the covers and fell asleep but the shoe was missing. I remembered what we did with the other stocking and the memory brought back the entirety of the previous night. My Lord, what had gotten into me?

  I slipped the remaining stocking off and after looking about the room, tossed it on the floor with the rest of the clothes lying about. I dug a sleep shirt out of my dresser, suddenly feeling modest, and went out to see what Jack was doing in the kitchen. I found him in front of the range naked and making breakfast. The scene was a bit surreal. I had no doubt last night happened, but seeing the tattooed biker standing naked in my kitchen brought it all home.

  “Morning,” I said. Jack turned and it was only then I noticed what he was wearing. I couldn’t help but laugh at him standing there in a frilly pink apron.

  “Hey, it was this or risk getting burned,” he said.

  “We wouldn’t want that but most of your clothes are right there,” I said pointing at the pile by the front door.

  “I’m comfortable with my sexuality,” he told me and I laughed again but the carefree feeling of the previous night had disappeared as I slept.

  “Have a seat. It’ll be a minute. I made coffee. How do you like it?” Jack offered. Well now. I suppose I could get used to this if it wasn’t for the feelings brewing inside of me.

  “Um, there’s vanilla creamer in the fridge. Not too much,” I told him. Jack abandoned the French toast and made me a cup of coffee. He brought it to me and I thanked him. This was kind of nice. I’d never had a guy make breakfast and coffee before. I’d never had a guy satisfy me like Jack had the night before either. Too bad he wasn’t my type. I thought that as if I had a type in mind but I suppose I knew that whatever it was, Jack wasn’t it.

  “Thanks,” I told him. I couldn’t help but stare at Jack’s butt as he worked. It was everything a girl dreamed of. Damn! Too bad he wasn’t the kind of guy I liked because I could have done last night all over again. I could do that every night. Whew! Coffee! Concentrate on the coffee. I turned and looked out the window over the city to get my mind of the biker I hardly knew and the feeling I had made a mistake. It wasn’t the best view, I couldn’t afford that, but it was nice enough. I liked watching the activity below and I could see Mount Charleston if I stood in the corner of my living room and craned my neck.

  “Here you go,” Jack said setting a plate of French toast down in front of me. I was already wondering how to get him out of my apartment. Last night was fun but the way I let loose kind of scared me in the harsh light of day. Jack was a bad influence and I had a reputation to think about. Yeah, I might have worked for a somewhat sleazy defense attorney but I was still a lawyer and I didn’t plan on working for Vic forever. I couldn’t have a relationship with a man like Jack. I shouldn’t have done what I did either but I guess he was Vic’s client instead of mine, technically. In any case, what this biker might make me do next really scared me.

  “Looks scrumptious,” I told him and tasted the French toast. It was good, better than I expected actually. Jack held his fork like a kid might, in his clenched fist instead of in his fingers. “So, what do you do for a living, Jack?” I asked to break the silence and be a good host.

  “Dumpster diving,” he said. I wasn’t sure what to say to that. He was a bum?

  “Like for food?” I asked cautiously. Maybe that’s why he was wolfing down the French toast like he hadn’t eaten in a week. It explained that rusty old bike too.

  “What? No! I reclaim electronics, you know the gold contacts, some of the reusable parts,” Jack told me, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

  “Oh, sorry. What do you do exactly?” I asked still a bit confused but glad he wasn’t a vagrant or something.

  “You’d be surprised at all the electronic gear businesses toss out. They all have gold contacts. I reclaim those and sell the gold. Well, I keep a little of it for my retirement. I also take out the parts that I can sell like hard drives, lamps from projectors. People think that when the whole unit doesn’t work, its parts are worthless. They’re not,” he told me. I’d never heard of that before but I guess it made sense.

  “So that’s like your job?” I wondered.

  “It pays the bills and little more. My real passion is vintage bikes. I buy and sell old bike parts. The dumpster diving lets me do that. It’s a lucrative business but not exactly steady income, you know,” Jack explained. I didn’t know but I pretended to.

  “So you’re like a junk dealer,” I asked. I admit, it might have sounded a bit condescending but that’s what it sounded like to me.

  “You’re kind of judgmental, aren’t you?” Jack asked me. I didn’t mean to be but what he did was kind of foreign to me.

  “Huh? No! I’m not. I don’t care what you do,” I replied defensively. Jack grinned that self-satisfied grin and then chuckled.

  “Whatever. I’m used to it. I like you anyway. So, I was thinking we could go for a ride today. It looks beautiful out there,” he said. Was he just kidding or did I offend and but he got over it. I guess it didn’t matter.

  “I’m a...busy,” I told him.

  “Well fuck that. How important can it be?” Jack pressed.

  “I’ve got some work and stuff,” I told him. Jack frowned and got up to take his dish to the sink. He untied the apron and I got a good look at him. He really was that big. Damn! He walked past and began to get dressed. “What are you doing?” I asked. He was leaving, I was sure, and I guess that’s what I really wanted so I should have just let it be.

  “Look, I told you yesterday. Don’t bullshit a bullshitter. If you don’t want to hang with me, that’s fine but at least have the balls to tell me the truth, Brandy,” he replied as he slipped into his jeans and then began pulling on his socks and black boots.

  “Jack, I really do...,” I began to lie again but he was right. If I didn’t want him to stay I should just tell him. “OK, look. You’re a nice enough guy but you’re not really my type. I had a fun but that’s just not me. Sorry,” I said and waited to see his reaction.

  “Good enough. It was fun,” was all he said. He finished tying his boots and slipped his vest on. He stood and checked his pockets for his wallet and keys and such. I couldn’t read him. Was he upset or was I just a one night stand? For some reason, either prospect bothered me.

  “Look, I’ll take a cab back to the office to get my car and I’ll call you after the hearing to let you know how it went,” I told him. Jack nodded. Shit! Why didn’t he just tell me how he was feeling or something?

  “Yeah, sounds good. It’s been fun, doll,” Jack said and walked out. I almost went after him. His nonchalant attitude made me think he was really upset and trying to hide it but maybe he really was that indifferent. Why that bothered me, however, I couldn’t say. I wanted him to leave, didn’t I? He wasn’t my type. He was trouble. Still, I felt bad. I didn’t want to hurt him. Then again, maybe I was just a night in the sack to him. Maybe I was just another one night stand.

  The worst part of it was that either way I felt bad. I felt bad for possibly hurting him on one hand and I felt a bit used on the other. Why did I care? I didn’t promise him anything and I didn’t owe him anything either so if he got hurt, that was
on him. And I enjoyed the sex so what did I care if I was just another notch in his bedpost. It wasn’t like I had guys built like Jack lining up to take me to bed. I should have been grateful, I suppose. Instead, I felt terrible.

  And to top it all off, I didn’t have anything to do that day. It was all a lie. I heard a noise and looked out the window. I saw Jack tearing down the road below headed off to places unknown. Suddenly, I had a deep longing to be riding behind him. I hated that, didn’t I? It scared the bejesus out of me. I couldn’t help but think of the ride, hiding from the Metro officer, Jack punching that biker and dancing on the bar. I realized I was smiling despite myself as I reminisced. What the hell was wrong with me?

  A year ago, I would have gone to my mom and talked to her but I couldn’t now. She and dad were RVing. They sold the house as soon as I graduated from college, bought a motorhome and left. I felt a bit abandoned for a while but I got over it. They worked hard raising me and my brother and deserved to enjoy their newfound freedom. I could have called her, I suppose, but what was I going to say? Mom, I fucked a sexy biker and now I’m confused? Help! Yeah, right.

  I got up and did the dishes and then took a shower and threw on some shorts, a t-shirt and some hiking shoes. I stuffed some food and water into a backpack then called a friend to see if she wanted go on a hike with me. Maybe a long hike and some quality companionship would help pass the time and banish the previous evening from my mind. You know what? Fuck Jack Anker. I didn’t need to spend any more time worrying about him or how he felt. He was gone. Good riddance.

  >>O<<

  Trudy and I took a break along the trail after finding an old fallen log to sit on. We each pulled out water from our packs and each took a long drink. It wasn’t hot on Mount Charleston, but it wasn’t cool either and the water hit the spot. Trudy was a school teacher and my roommate in college for a couple of semesters. She was a perky red head with thick glasses, freckles and a plump, round body. She was also always swimming in men for some reason.

  Trudy had always managed to make guys forget she wasn’t the prettiest girl in the room with her personality. She was flirty, a bit wild and not ashamed of telling a guy what she wanted or what she could do for him. Most importantly, she wasn’t afraid to actually do it either. She wasn’t ugly but she wasn’t a “10” either. That never stopped her though. I marveled at her ability to attract men and wished sometimes I had her confidence. I was usually, the previous night notwithstanding, a wallflower.

  “So what’s been going on?” Trudy asked me after we caught our breath. I didn’t ask her to go with me to dish about my night with Jack. I pretended I wanted to forget him so I avoided all mention of him.

  “This and that. Work, home, same ‘ol same ‘ol,” I told her vaguely. She nodded.

  “Yeah, same here. Nothing too exciting,” she told me and then after a moment asked, “So what’s the matter?”

  “Huh? Nothing’s the matter. Why?” I replied though I wondered if it was that obvious.

  “Look, we’ve been friends for a while. You called me when your folks took off in that RV. You called me when that guy dumped you last year. You called me when you got your job and were so disappointed you didn’t find something better. Otherwise, I don’t hear from you much,” she said. Had I really done that?

  “I...I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I did that,” I told her. I was sure I’d called Trudy just to hang out now and then but I couldn’t remember a single instance.

  “No worries. I’m an empath. I get it all the time. People like to tell me their problems because I listen. Besides, you’re kind of quiet today. I can tell something’s wrong,” Trudy told me. I felt bad using her like that but she genuinely didn’t seem to mind.

  “Well, I didn’t really want to talk about it,” I began but I was deceiving the both of us. Apparently, I wanted to tell someone about what happened with Jack because I told her everything. I had to stop once as I was detailing my tryst with Jack as a young family passed us as they walked along the trail. Trudy listened to the story but then she pressed me for details and to my surprise, I was all too eager to supply them. When I told her what had happened that morning, Jack walking out and leaving me feeling confused, Trudy smiled knowingly.

  “Been there, done that,” Trudy told me and I looked at her skeptically. “You think you’re the only girl to fall for some slick bad boy?” she added.

  “I didn’t fall for him. He’s not my type. I mean, last night was pretty...nice, I guess, but I didn’t fall for him,” I protested and a bit too strongly.

  “C’mon, Brandy. Don’t bullshit a bullshitter,” Trudy said. I turned towards her suddenly.

  “What did you just say?” I asked cutting Trudy off.

  “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter? Never heard that?” she assumed incorrectly.

  “No, I’ve heard it. Jack said that to me at least twice,” I told her. Trudy, far more experienced in affairs of the heart, or maybe the libido, smiled.

  “So he’s not blind to it either,” Trudy replied.

  “To what?” I asked feeling like I was the only one not in on the joke.

  “You totally like him,” she said.

  “No, I swear to you, I don’t. He’s crude and rude and abrasive. Jack’s trouble. I can’t see a guy like that?” I protested.

  “Why not? He sounds like a dream. I’d beg him to slap me around and fuck me to tears,” Trudy told me excitedly. I was sorry I’d been so detailed in my description of the previous evening.

  “Trudy!” I exclaimed.

  “Please! Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy that. You told me you did and I could see it in your eyes. What, you’re a lawyer so you can’t like a biker? Is that it?” Trudy asked.

  “Well, yeah. I have a reputation to uphold. I’m an officer of the cou...,” I began to explain but Trudy stopped me.

  “Oh, come on. And I’m a school teacher so I’m supposed to be chaste and virginal, right? Please! I’m downright normal around the school. The kindergarten teacher’s husband is her sex slave, one of the third grade teachers is a swinger and the vice-principle dresses up like a woman on the weekends and hangs out in gay bars. Because you’re a lawyer, you can’t have fun?” Trudy pressed. Was she joking or was that all true?

  “Well, he’s a client,” I argued but the idea of her vice-principle dressing up like a girl wouldn’t get out of my head. “He’s really a crossdresser? He told you that?” I wondered and only partly to change the subject.

  “Yeah, he confessed to me one night,” Trudy told me.

  “One night?” I pressed.

  “Yeah, we dated for a while,” Trudy told me. I felt my jaw fall open.

  “And he...you know?” I asked. Trudy rolled her eyes.

  “No! Yeah, of course he did. He’s cute as a woman and it gets him so excited,” Trudy told me and licked her teeth.

  “OK, T.M.I.,” I complained but part of me was still curious. Trudy changed the subject back to Jack, however. My little diversion hadn’t worked.

  “Enough about me. We’re talking about you. He’s a client? Please! You think your boss met his stripper wife at ice cream social? You’re just making shit up to avoid facing the fact you like him,” Trudy argued.

  “OK, so maybe you’re right. But he’s not my type. I’m not into that,” I said.

  “Into what?” Trudy asked.

  “You know, the whole biker thing. We almost got arrested. That’s not me,” I explained.

  “I think you’re laboring under the assumption that you have to act a certain way because that’s how you were raised or it’s what’s expected. You don’t, you know,” Trudy told me.

  “No, I...but...well,” I tried to explain but the words wouldn’t come out. Trudy giggled.

  “I was raised catholic. My mom and dad are still devout and while they love me, they’re not happy I’m not a good catholic girl. I don’t live to please them or anyone else. I’m not always as self-assured as I seem, but I made a decision a long time a
go to not live to please other people. I’ve seen how miserable that can make a person. I live without fear of what other people think,” Trudy said and it sounded like she was speaking of someone specific but I didn’t pry. I was pretty sure that person wasn’t me but I could tell she thought I wasn’t as happy as I might be.

  “I’m not miserable. I like my life. Working for Vic isn’t my dream job but it’s OK. I like my condo and I love living in Vegas. I’m not unhappy,” I countered.

  “But are you happy? Not being unhappy isn’t the same. Don’t settle for OK. Don’t let some sense of normal hold you back. I promise you, there is no normal,” Trudy told me. That hit home. Was I happy? I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t depressed but maybe Trudy had a point.

  “So, say I’m not ridiculously happy. So what should I do about that?” I wondered.

  “Do what makes you happy. Did you really get up on the bar and dance in your undies?” Trudy asked. I rolled my eyes and blushed.

  “Yeah, I’m afraid I did,” I told her.

  “Did you like that?” she asked pointedly. I thought about it. It was scary and bit unnerving but if I was being honest, it was fun. It was thrilling actually.

  “Yeah,” was all I said.

  “So, do more stuff like that,” Trudy said. Was it that easy? Just do what made you feel good? As I considered it, the question sounded so stupid. Maybe it was that easy. But then I had to ask the question even though I already knew the answer. I guess I just needed to hear it.

  “What will people think?” I wondered.

  “Do you really care?” Trudy asked. I knew she didn’t. Or maybe like she alluded, she made a point not to care even when her instincts told her otherwise. I guess it was a choice. “Look, I’m not saying you should go out, find a scruffy biker and marry him but if Jack made you feel good, be with Jack. If it doesn’t work out, so be it. If you like dancing half-naked on bar tops, do it. If people judge, fuck them!” Trudy said and it made me laugh.