Falling Stars (The B–Side)

by J. L. Brooks

  With a bandage on my leg, I was able to wear pants and snuggle next to Grant. Throughout the evening, the men told stories about going to college and the trouble they caused. I shared my own hijinks at Kent State while talking about Ohio sports. The debates quickly became heated when Mark revealed he was a die-hard Michigan fan, although it was in good fun. A little further into the night, Grant excused us and led me back to the tent. Before allowing me to sit, he unzipped the bags and made one large sleeping sack so we could snuggle.

  Being so close to him made it a little too convenient for my hands to roam. Running my fingers across his chest, I felt each contour of the hard muscle beneath my fingers. Snaking my hand under his shirt, I felt the soft hairs brush against my palm teasingly.

  “Take off your shirt,” Grant commanded in a low voice. As I obeyed him immediately, his hand began to tug at my waistband. “Pants, too.” I shimmied my clothing off, and he did the same in the tight confines of the makeshift sleeping bag. His kisses were fevered and urgent as his hands swept my body with the same frenzy. With his restraint weakened, he hungrily devoured every inch of skin within reach. “I want you now,” he growled.

  “Then take me,” I moaned breathlessly.

  His arm reached over to a backpack and removed a small box of condoms. He must have anticipated this moment as they appeared conveniently within reach. Laughing to myself, I was impressed he had been able to hold out this long with the opportunities he already had denied. Leaning up on his elbow, his free hand sheathed the rock hard cock that was ready to destroy me.

  I held my breath as he pressed into me, exhaling when he only pushed in the tip. Repeatedly he dipped his hips slightly, refusing to fully enter as the barbell stretched my entrance.

  “What’s wrong?” I questioned while attempting to pull him closer. He backed away from me and laughed.

  “Shhhhh . . . Give me a moment. You are going to feel a strange sensation, like zaps in your abdomen, or the need to pee. I am going to make you come really hard okay?”

  I did not doubt for a moment that he was right. I had long read and heard of the benefits of being with a pierced man, and I was soon to find out for myself. After a few moments the electricity radiated through my pelvis. It was almost painful and I nearly protested before I felt the nerves tingle with pleasure. My body struggled to take more of him in, panting hard, the muscles clenching every time he danced in and out of my channel, denying me the pleasure of full penetration.

  “That’s it, baby. It’s coming.”

  I jerked beneath him quietly in a delicious release. Pulling down his shoulders, he slammed into me, stealing my breath away. The slow grind of his hips intensified how sensitive I was and brought me swiftly to another climax. He was going to kill me and he knew it. I stifled a moan against his shoulder while biting into the flesh.

  The sleeping bag quickly became claustrophobic and difficult to maneuver in. Flipping onto my stomach, I encouraged him to take me from behind. His hands stroked my ass and back over and over again before entering. Pressing deep, he paused and tilted my chin up to find his lips in the dark. Kissing me roughly, he continued to thrust harder and harder, delighting in my body.

  “Fuck, you feel so good. I knew you would. You are perfect.”

  His words forced a shiver that coursed through my limbs. I wanted him to enjoy me, to use me however he wished. Meeting his drive, I was set on pleasing him, because he pleased me first. I reached my hand down between my legs, taking his swollen testicles into my palm, and massaged gently. Within moments he came hard and savagely. Collapsing on my back, he gained his bearings and rolled off to the side, pulling me close.

  “Seriously, did that just happen? Because if so, you are not allowed to leave me ever.”

  Caged in his arms, I refrained from shattering the bubble. I was leaving in a few days; I had no choice. I didn’t deserve the life he wanted to offer me. No matter how hard I tried to convince myself, I was unworthy of a love like his. Girls like me didn’t get guys like him. How he was single still baffled me. Pushing away the doubt and negative feelings, I pulled Grant close and kissed him hard. I could give him a few more days of the illusion. I had to.

  The air warmed significantly as we climbed across the mountainous terrain onto the flats known as the Black Rock Desert. I rested my arm on the window ledge, and my fingers danced against the wind as we listened to NPR and played along with the trivia shows.

  Waking up mid-coitus and being fucked properly put me in a desperately needed chipper frame of mind. I felt terrible for his friends having to listen to my failed attempts at muffling our noise through the tissue thin barrier. I was dying to be alone with one of them to know what they really thought. The quietest of the group seemed to find the most humor in the situation. Brian had said very little since my breakfast the first day. Although not rude, I often caught him smirking as if there was a joke I was not in on. Mark was the most vocal and likeliest of the group to spill it.

  Grant had a special surprise planned before we reached the final destination. Asking me to close my eyes, he tied a bandana around my head to ensure I couldn’t cheat and spoil the fun. He promised we were close, noticing I was growing restless and ready to stretch my legs. We stopped for a moment after turning onto a gravel road, and I heard the distinct noise of chains running along a metal fence and a gate swing open. Wherever we were was not public land, which further spiked my curiosity. The cavalcade joined us and was commenting on how incredible it was, whatever ‘it’ was. Because I was unable to see and still sore, Grant had me climb on his back once again and jogged to keep up with the others.

  “You better watch out. I am not light, and it’s really hot out. You don’t need heatstroke.”

  When he turned his head to hush me, I gently nipped his neck in return. He struggled to keep his grip on my legs as his palms sweat in the desert heat. A short while later, he set me down.

  “Are you ready?” he whispered while loosening the blindfold. I swallowed hard; he had succeeded in building the anticipation.

  “Yes.” Adjusting my eyes in the bright light, my breath was stolen by the alien landscape. A large round outcropping of rust-stained rocks was surrounded by vivid green. “Holy fuck, where are we?” I turned to Grant and smiled in wonder.

  Large plumes of water soared to the sky from the strange fountains. Unable to get very close, I walked the perimeter. Turning around, I noticed that we were the only vehicles on the dirt road with a car parked at the imposing gate with spikes across the top. Cars were lined along the main road with spectators viewing from afar and taking pictures with telescopic lenses.

  Studying me with his gaze, Grant was taking pleasure in my reaction.

  “Fly Geyser. We are right on the edge of the Black Rock Desert. I donate money to a conservation group here, and they have a good relationship with the property owner. A perk is getting to come here every year, even if it is only twenty minutes.”

  It was absolutely stunning and surreal. He went on to explain how it was created by drilling complications. The well had not been properly capped, so it burst and hot water continued to spew minerals, adding several inches every year until it became what we were currently viewing.

  “You and your perks. I must say I quite enjoy the ones you have given me.” Leaning close, I pressed my forehead against his chin.

  “How am I going to repay you for this?” I asked coyly.

  He leaned down and kissed the top of my nose before sliding his hand into mine. ”I will think of something,” he said with a wink as we started to walk back. Between the heat and overwhelming joy bursting inside, I felt delirious. I wanted every day this happy, and he was making it more difficult to maintain what little control I had. He thanked the man at the gate with a handshake and a hug, indicating a fondness they had for one another. Hopping back in the SUV, he questioned my grin.

  “What’s that look for?”

  “Does everyone love you?”

  Rubbing my palm
with his thumb, he held the wheel with his other hand as we tore out of the gate entry and onto the main road. “Not everyone, but I am working on that.”

  I snickered and shook my head. “You’re funny.”

  A short while later, we pulled up to the massive festival entrance where tents, trailers and strange structures went on as far as the eye could see. I panicked as we stopped at a checkpoint, realizing I didn’t have a ticket. Grant popped his glove compartment and removed a small envelope with a parking pass and two entry bracelets. My stomach sank, realizing that he had an extra ticket the whole time. Whose shoes I was filling I was unsure, and I certainly did not want to believe it was another woman. It couldn’t be; it was a guys’ only excursion. Then again, who was I to make such a judgment on someone? Wasn’t that exactly what I was doing, rebounding with a stranger to sedate my broken heart?

  Thankfully, loud music echoed across the dry, cracked ground as dust whirled in the hot breeze, giving me something else to focus on.

  “This is even crazier than the geyser!” I exclaimed.

  “This is nothing, Lila. Wait until tonight. That’s when everything really comes alive. Right now only a fraction of the people have arrived. It’s about to get a whole lot more crowded.”

  I surveyed my surroundings in awe. Decadently costumed individuals walked around freely as others were completely caked in mud to stay cool, I presumed. Bicycles were flying through the aisles as everyone settled in. Cars were not allowed past a certain point, and Mark unfolded a makeshift aluminum traveling cart that used their bike wheels and loaded it with the heaviest items to take to camp. I was thoroughly impressed by the ingenuity used to craft it. The guys were definitely seasoned and moved efficiently.

  “Hey, we need to get set up now; it’s fucking hot. We will fry in this heat, especially princess over there.”

  When Alex pointed at me with a chuckle, I scowled at his reference as the other men laughed, including Grant.

  “Hey, I can hold my own!”

  “Mhmmm . . . Not upright on a bike as we all can see.”

  Stepping a little closer, I smiled sweetly. “Let’s see how upright your dick will get in the future if you keep picking on me.”

  Through the howling, Brian walked over and handed me a bottle of water. “You will get dehydrated. We are pretty far up, and there is little humidity. It can make you cranky. Lotion, chap-stick and water are your best friends.”

  Taking the bottle, I guzzled it down and realized I was thirstier than I thought. I nodded appreciatively before looking at Alex and sticking my tongue out. As we walked towards our site, Grant was concerned I took the heckling personally.

  “No, I am glad. It means they really like me. They wouldn’t joke if they didn’t.”

  “Why are you still worried what they think? They aren’t the ones you are sharing a tent with, or a car, or a sleeping bag.”

  “In matters of survival out here, you are correct. In terms of civil society, it is proper to respect one’s tribe. It makes me feel like less of a hooker along for a ride.”

  Slapping my ass and then sliding up to rest on the small of my back, the teacher in Grant surfaced.

  “Civil society is corrupt. But you are right. Community is what counts. They are two very different things. Societies are built on self-interest; community is for the greater good. That is why we are here, to experience how it can be. You cannot buy or sell things here at the festival. Only ice and few other things are able to be purchased. It’s a free trade enterprise. You will experience art, music and crafting that has not been replaced by technology, as well as a type of freedom not found elsewhere. If you truly allow yourself to submerge in this culture, it will change you forever.”

  I suddenly understood why this was so important to them. It went beyond camaraderie into a full-blown devotion and ideals. These men had spent over a decade ensuring that for two weeks a year, they would stop everything to reevaluate life and get back to what truly mattered. Only death or illness would keep a member of the group from joining along, they had said. Suddenly the extra ticket hit me like a ton of bricks. It did not belong to a woman; it belonged to one of their own.

  “Did someone die?”

  The words slipped off my tongue before realizing that they were not just in my head. The men halted in place and looked at me with uncertainty while growing somber. Realizing I had stumbled onto something that was kept hidden for a reason, I quietly finished my thought.

  “Grant had an extra ticket. The only explanation is someone from your group is really sick or has passed. Since you haven’t mentioned anyone, I was just wondering.”

  Brian’s eyes welled up as he pulled his phone out and showed me a picture. It was of a man with a bike helmet, and his arm rested on Brian’s shoulder. My hand covered my mouth as I understood that this year was different for them.

  “His name was Fred. We have some of his ashes. His family asked us to bring them along and spread them out so a part of him could always be in the places he loved. He lived for this trip.”

  Even Grant’s eyes reddened as he recalled the memory of his friend. “Fred was a librarian. He loved books like they were children and would go on and on about how brick and mortar stores were going out of business and future generations would never know how painstakingly difficult it was to catalogue via the Dewey decimal system.”

  Handing the phone back to Brian, I wrapped my arm around Grant’s elbow as we started to walk again. Each guy told me a little bit more about Fred and the kind of man he was, finally allowing the floodgates of chatter to open.

  “Can I ask what happened? He sounded wonderful; it’s a shame I won’t get to meet him.”

  Everyone paused and looked at Grant. Instantly his comment at the watering hole about being in the hospital made sense.

  “You were with him, weren’t you? Oh my God, why didn’t you tell me?”

  He simply nodded and confirmed my theory as we continued to walk. Arriving at the designated camping spot, the men began setting up. Grant took me aside and looked a little nervous giving an explanation.

  “I really don’t want to talk about it, but I wasn’t sure if you would come with us if you knew. It’s kind of morbid and personal, but I took meeting you as a sign of Fred sending his blessing.”

  “So is that why you felt like you needed to help me? Because it felt like us meeting wasn’t an accident?”

  Pulling me in for a hug, Grant leaned down and brushed his lips against mine.

  “You are most definitely not an accident. This was divine intervention. Fred was my wing-man, so I know he had a hand in this.”

  I scoffed and playfully pushed away. “By no means let me interfere with you testing out your game solo. Looks like some hotties are in the house.”

  We turned around to see a group of hippie girls with long dreadlocks painting intricate designs on each other’s naked bodies. The guys wagged their brows, and I decided to be bold.

  “Hey, I will be back in a bit. You guys set up.”

  Jogging over to the ladies, I asked if they liked to read. I had nothing to trade in person, but if they had Internet, I could certainly give them my books. One of the girls squealed loudly and gave me a giant hug despite the brightly colored paint coating her body when I told her my name and that I was the author of The Little Traveler.

  “Oh shit, sorry Maizey. I got so excited.”

  Maizey seemed forgiving of her friend’s enthusiasm, which destroyed the gorgeous flower pattern across her torso. I offered an e-copy of the book, but it was not necessary. Both girls had distressed paperback copies in their camper and immediately went to retrieve them for me to see. Holding them in my hands and seeing how worn the bindings and crinkled the pages were from continuous reading made my spirit soar. I graciously signed the books and asked if the girls would mind painting me. I felt comfortable in their presence, and they were thrilled and felt as though it was an honor. I balked and tried to shrug it off like it was no big deal. The
girl with the smeared paint was named Savannah and spoke the most of the two.

  “You don’t understand—your book validated our lifestyle. You wrote about life on the road so raw and beautifully, like you had grown up on it yourself. I sent it to my mom so she could understand me better. Because of you, we actually talk again.”

  I knew it would ruin the paint even more, yet I reached out and gave her the largest squeeze. When I turned to Maizey, she looked at me shyly to share what she gleaned from it.

  “I loved Izzy. You never think of death as a person, just this awful thing. It helped me make more sense of my grandma’s passing. She had cancer and kept going through all these treatments, but I knew she didn’t want to. She did it for us. Her heart was beating but she wasn’t living. I like to think that death came to her like that too, and when she went, it was peaceful and happy. That she was finally free. It’s why I hit the road. When it’s my time, I want no regrets.”

  Stunned, the tears welled up. I hugged her, too, and thanked them for loving the story so much. Although I was enjoying the conversation, I knew I needed to get back to the guys.

  “Let’s do this!” I said giddily while rubbing my palms together.

  Stripping down to my panties, the guys stopped and gawked as I laid on a painter’s canvas under a shaded tarp while the girls went to work on me in unison. Grant yelled at them to stop looking, yet they ignored him, causing us ladies to giggle.

  It only took Maizey and Savannah a half hour to do my entire body in a waterscape with turtles and fish swimming across my torso through gorgeous water lilies and irises. Long tree roots wrapped around my legs as a huge gnarly tree covered my back. Returning with the stride of a cowboy, the guys stifled laughs as I tried my best to keep my damp thighs from brushing together and ruining the design, which already looked marred by the bandages on my leg. In the heat it would dry rather quickly, but it was so beautiful I didn’t want to take my chances.

  “This submerged enough for you?”