Men, Women & Children: A Novel

by Chad Kultgen

  Kent took Dawn to a nice restaurant, as he had on many of their other dates, with the exception of one date on which they went bowling. The conversation was as engaging for each of them as it usually was, but an underlying nervousness on both of their parts heightened the experience for them. They were both acutely aware of the expectation of what the night’s end would entail.

  At the meal’s end, Dawn said, “Should we go get a drink or something?”

  Kent thought the introduction of alcohol would ease his nervousness. He said, “Yeah, sounds good.”

  They ended up making their way to Zoo Bar and listening to Fatbones Big Horn Band play as they drank. After the first drink, Dawn put her hand on Kent’s leg and squeezed his knee. He returned the physical affection by placing his hand on the small of her back and moving his fingers in small circles. They had kissed each other and done so passionately, but Kent found these small massaging motions at Zoo Bar to be far more intimate than anything they had done previously.

  After finishing their first drinks and ordering a second round, Dawn said, “I’m going to go to the ladies’ room. I’ll be right back,” and then got up out of her chair. As she crossed Kent, she leaned down and kissed him, putting her fingers in his hair. After the kiss, she leaned her mouth close to his ear and said, “When I come back from the bathroom, I want you to tell me where we’re going after our next drink.” Then she headed for the restroom.

  Kent was so nervous that he felt himself begin to sweat. He dabbed the back of his neck with a napkin and took a deep breath. He told himself that he was going to have sex with a woman who was very attractive and whom he liked a lot, and beyond these two things he had 100 milligrams of Viagra in his wallet, which would ensure an above-average sexual performance. He reminded himself that he had nothing to be nervous about.

  The drinks arrived at their table while Dawn was still in the restroom. Kent assumed it would take twenty minutes to finish their drinks and then another twenty or thirty to drive to either his house or Dawn’s. He had to decide, as soon as possible, when he would ingest the 100 milligrams of Viagra. Based on what Dawn whispered in his ear, Kent was almost positive that she wanted to have sex with him after their next drink. He took out his wallet, made sure no one was looking, unwrapped the tablet of Viagra, put it in his mouth, and swallowed it with a mouthful of the greyhound he had ordered, wondering if he would be able to feel the effects of the drug in any way other than it producing an erection.

  Dawn eventually returned to the table, giving Kent a light squeeze on the shoulder as she did. They finished their drink with minimal conversation and then left Zoo Bar.

  In Kent’s car, Dawn said, “So, I don’t want to be presumptuous or anything, but instead of dropping me off, would you maybe like to go back to your place or something?”

  Kent would have preferred to go to Dawn’s house, having had no time to put new sheets on his bed, but he said, “Yeah, we could do that.”

  Dawn reached over and squeezed his thigh nearer to his penis than to his knee and said, “Good.”

  After arriving at Kent’s house, they made their way to his front porch, where they kissed each other urgently. Kent’s ears and face began to feel flushed and hot. He assumed it was some side effect of the Viagra. He could also feel an erection beginning to form in his pants. It was harder than any erection he could remember having in his adult life. Dawn felt it poking her through Kent’s pants. She said, “Oh, my. Looks like somebody’s excited.”

  Kent said, “Well, you excite me.”

  They kissed for another minute or so as Dawn put her hand on Kent’s erection. Kent was astounded at how hard it was. Dawn was as well. She said, “You are, like, rock hard.”

  Kent said, “Well, it’s been a while since I’ve done . . . you know.”

  Dawn said, “It’s okay.”

  Kent said, “My son might still be up. If he is, he’ll probably be in his room playing video games, but, just to warn you, you might have to say hello or something.”

  Dawn said, “Okay,” and Kent opened the door.

  Tim was in his room. His raid had ended thirty minutes before, but he was still on his computer, logged into his Myspace account, chatting with Brandy. Kent saw that the light was on in Tim’s room and motioned for Dawn to walk with him into his bedroom, avoiding the process of meeting Tim.

  Once in Kent’s bedroom, Dawn undressed him aggressively, kissing him and rubbing her hands over his body. Kent was built well. It seemed like he probably worked out with some regularity and didn’t eat terribly. Once she had him down to his boxer shorts, she pushed him down on the bed and said, “Now it’s my turn,” and undressed herself in front of him. Kent knew that she had an attractive body, but it was made even more so as she stood in front of him in only her bra and panties. She removed her bra. Kent looked at her breasts. They were nicely shaped, with medium-sized brown nipples. They were much nicer than he remembered his ex-wife’s to be. As he thought this, it occurred to him that Dawn’s breasts were the first he had seen since his divorce, since his wife had stood in roughly that same spot in their bedroom with her breasts exposed. Kent knew that a thought of that nature would have deflated his erection had he not taken the 100-milligram tablet of Viagra. His erection was so stiff that each of his heartbeats made it throb a little bit. He was put at ease by the realization that nothing Dawn could say or do, nothing he could think about, nothing that could happen would make him lose his erection. He was going to perform well, which would almost ensure that Dawn would want to do this again.

  Dawn moved onto the bed with him and they kissed for a few minutes, each of them moving their hands over the other’s body, feeling skin touch skin. Kent’s arms felt good to Dawn, as did his mouth and his body in general. She felt, for the first time in a long time, as though the man she was about to have sex with actually liked her. His touch was as at times gentle and at times aggressive. It conveyed a respect for her that was rarely present in her sexual partners, but it wasn’t so timid as to lack the feeling of the expressly male carnal lust that Dawn required in order to be turned on. His hands were strong, and when Kent slid one of them under her panties to squeeze one of her buttocks, it caused her to exhale in a physical surrender to Kent—a feeling she wasn’t positive she had ever known.

  This was the first body Kent had felt close to his since his ex-wife’s. It was impossible for him not to compare them, even though he hadn’t had sex with his wife since their last awkward sexual encounter a few months after their official separation, almost a year before. He liked the way Dawn’s body felt. She had taken care of herself. Although his ex-wife was physically attractive, and in what Kent had always considered to be good shape, Dawn’s body was far more appealing to him. He could feel muscle under her skin. He could feel it tensing as she maneuvered her body in conjunction with his movements.

  He slid her panties off, thought of how his wife’s buttocks used to feel in his hands one last time, and then mentally forbade himself from thinking about his wife again that night. He slid off his boxer shorts and rolled underneath Dawn, forcing her to sit on top of him, straddling him. She could feel his erection between her buttocks. It was incredibly stiff, giving a resistance to her backward grinding motion that was notable to her.

  Kent sat up a little, took one of Dawn’s breasts in his hand, and licked at her nipple. He smelled her skin. He thought about how dissimilar from his ex-wife she smelled. His ex-wife, Lydia, was fond of using body lotions and soaps that smelled very floral. Kent had never had an opinion of her smell. It was neither attractive nor repellent to him. It was just how she smelled. Dawn, on the other hand, smelled like cinnamon, a scent that Kent found almost made him salivate. He became aware that he was, once again, thinking about his ex-wife as he felt Dawn’s nipple become hard in his mouth. He breathed deeply, inhaling whatever the spiced scent was that she was wearing that night.

  Dawn reached behind herself and took Kent’s erect penis in her hand, stroking it. It was
amazingly hard, harder than any erection she had felt in recent memory. This made her wet almost immediately. She took the hand Kent had on her buttock and moved it around to her vagina, guiding his fingers into it, showing him how aroused she was. Kent took this to mean that Dawn wanted him to give her some kind of clitoral stimulation before they began the act of intercourse.

  He rolled her over on her back, spread her legs, and looked at her body as he knelt above her. She was an extremely attractive woman in Kent’s mind, especially for one in what he guessed to be her late thirties or early forties. He kissed her neck and then moved his mouth lower on her body by increments, dragging his tongue over her nipples, down her stomach, and then to one of her hips and down to her inner thigh. He paused momentarily at her vagina, hoping that he would remember how to perform cunnilingus, hoping that the technique he had perfected with his ex-wife, a technique that was suited specifically to her sexual predilection, would be pleasurable to Dawn as well. And, again, Kent tried to banish the thought of his ex-wife as he spread Dawn’s labia with his fingers and slowly slid his tongue over her clitoris.

  Dawn’s reaction to each shift of rhythm or direction with his tongue let Kent know that he was doing a decent job. After several minutes of Kent performing cunnilingus on her, Dawn reached down and pulled him toward her, saying, “Fuck me.”

  Kent was surprised to find that, not only did he still have an erection despite his penis having had no physical stimulation for the past several minutes, but the erection was also just as hard as it had been since it had first manifested itself. He moved over and got on his knees, reaching to the nightstand where he kept the pack of twelve condoms he purchased earlier that day. As he fumbled with the box, Dawn moved her head toward his penis and fellated him.

  She ran a finger behind his testicles and applied a small amount of pressure to his perineum as she slid the entire length of his penis into her mouth and throat. She had mastered the ability to take the entire length of an average-sized penis into her mouth when she was in high school. It had served her well in life, and as Kent said, “Oh my god,” in reaction to her performance, she correctly assumed that he was impressed with her skills.

  She continued to fellate him in this manner for a minute or so until she became aware of the fact that he had opened the condom wrapper and was holding the condom, ready to place it on his penis. Kent had, in his marriage, been tasked with putting the condom on his own penis before every sexual encounter, without exception. So when Dawn took the condom from his hand and rolled it down the length of his penis herself, he was surprised and happy.

  With the condom on, Kent rolled Dawn over on her back again, spread her legs, and very gently slid himself into her, looking into her eyes the entire time. Dawn was used to men having sex with her from behind or with her on top. Those seemed to be the only positions the men she had sex with employed. It was nice to look into Kent’s eyes. Although she found it a strange thing to think about as she felt Kent’s penis slide in and out of her, she couldn’t help but feel good about being the first woman Kent was having sex with after his wife. She reached up and stroked his hair, bringing his face close to hers, and then kissed him gently to the rhythm of his thrusts.

  Although his motion was slow at first, it was deep, and Dawn could feel him hitting her G-spot. The tenderness that had defined their initial moments of intercourse was quickly giving way to lust for Dawn. She reached behind Kent with both hands, grabbing his buttocks and pulling him into her, increasing his pace and thrust.

  Kent was enjoying himself, but was finding it difficult to reach a level of sexual arousal that would even hint at a coming orgasm. He had heard that one of the potential drawbacks of taking Viagra was that an orgasm would be difficult to achieve. He didn’t necessarily care if that was to be the outcome of the night as long as Dawn had one, but he felt that he should at least give it his best effort.

  In the hour that followed, Dawn and Kent had sex in multiple positions, varying the speed, angle, and power of his thrusts. Dawn achieved three orgasms, the third coming simultaneously with Kent’s first and only of the night, in the doggy-style position.

  After ejaculating, Kent collapsed down next to Dawn. They were both exhausted. Kent was afraid that his penis might remain erect even after ejaculating, but it didn’t. Dawn said, “Jesus fucking Christ. That was insane.”

  Kent said, “Yeah.”

  Dawn said, “Seriously. I don’t think I’ve had sex like that since I was eighteen.”

  Kent said, “Yeah, I don’t know if I have either.” He thought about telling her that he had taken Viagra before their encounter, but then thought better of it. He did wonder what her reaction would be to future sexual encounters, however, if he chose not to employ Viagra. He looked at her lying in the spot where his ex-wife used to lay. He liked Dawn. He said, “So, I don’t know if this is, like, a weird thing, or if you even want to do this, but if you want to stay here tonight, you can.”

  Dawn hadn’t thought about that even being a possibility. Most of the men she was sexually active with in her adult life had been of the type who left her house or gave some reason that she had to leave theirs within fifteen minutes of having ejaculated. She liked Kent. She said, “Do you want me to stay? Don’t feel like you have to say that because we just had sex or anything.”

  Kent said, “No, I’d really like you to stay, actually, if you want to.”

  Dawn said, “As long as it won’t be weird for your son or anything tomorrow morning.”

  Kent said, “He’ll be in his room playing video games. And, even if he’s not, he should meet you. I mean, assuming you want to keep going out and everything.”

  Dawn said, “Well, after your performance tonight, I don’t know if I can keep up with you.”

  Kent said, “I think you’ll be okay,” and then kissed her and felt his penis becoming erect again.

  chapter

  twenty

  For Allison Doss, the first day back at school after having a miscarriage wasn’t as difficult as she thought it would be. None of her peers or the faculty at Goodrich Junior High School knew the truth about what had happened to her the week before. Her mother and father decided it would be best if no one knew, and she agreed with them. While she received sympathy from many of her teachers and her fellow students, she found she was never questioned about the event, never asked for any kind of explanation or elaboration. Even Brooke Benton didn’t pry into the details of the affair. She said only, “I’m glad to have you back. We all missed you Friday night. And if you need anything, just let me know.”

  After spending a little more than twenty-four hours in the hospital and having to endure intravenous feeding, Allison was glad to get back to her old routines of self-starvation and forced vomiting. These were things that made her feel normal. It was during her lunch period, as she sat across from Brooke Benton chewing a piece of celery, that she received a notification on her phone alerting her that she had a new message from Brandon Lender on Facebook. The initial excitement she felt dissipated as she read his message and realized that he had no intention of seeing her again, but instead was merely making sure that he would not be implicated publicly in her failed pregnancy. His message read, “You didn’t tell anybody that we fucked, right?”

  She had come to feel some hatred for Brandon Lender, and this hatred was supported by many of the comments she was receiving in reaction to her posts on the various pro-anorexia websites of which she was a member—comments like, “You are beautiful & if he can’t see that, he doesn’t deserve you,” and “You work so hard to look perfect, screw him,” and “You proved you can get him, you don’t need anything else,” and “No guy is worth getting upset enough to eat over—remember that.”

  She didn’t want to respond to him, but she couldn’t help herself. She sought not only his approval but his continued affection. She needed him to see her as more than just one of many girls he had had sex with. She didn’t need him to become emotionally involve
d with her, or to maintain a friendship with her, or even to have compassion for her. She just needed him to acknowledge her as the more beautiful version of the girl who used to be too fat to be sexually attractive. She just needed him to want to have sex with her more than once to prove that she wasn’t just another meaningless conquest to him, that she was worthy of a repeat visit, that she was attractive enough to warrant having sex with again. She sent him a message that read, “I guess if you want to find out if I told anyone, we’ll just have to hang out again and I can tell you in person.” Brandon Lender replied to her message ten minutes later with one that read, “I’m not down with getting you preggers again, though. So we might have to fuck in the ass or something. Cool?”

  This validation was all that Allison wanted. She wrote back, “Cool.”

  Tim Mooney and Brandy Beltmeyer held hands as they walked down the hall between classes. As Tanner Hodge passed them, he said, “I didn’t know faggots could have girlfriends.”

  Brandy said, “What an asshole. Just ignore him.”

  Tim did even less than ignoring him. He found himself almost unaware of Tanner Hodge and Tanner Hodge’s insult. He felt almost as if he were floating down the hallway, watching from a third person perspective similar to his point of view in World of Warcraft, looking down on himself from overhead as he walked through the environment. His motions were obligatory; he almost had no choice in what he did, no control. He walked through the hall. He held Brandy’s hand. He carried his backpack. He made his way to American history. He thought about none of it as he kissed Brandy on the cheek and heard her say, “See you at lunch.”