by M. J. Fields
I continue fucking her as a sheen of sweat covers her body. I lean down and suck on the nipples I dream about on the daily, still fucking her.
When she clenches around me, her back arching, and she cries out, “Kiss me,” I nearly lose it.
Buried deeply inside her, I lean in as she grabs my hair and pulls me into a kiss while grinding against me. When her mouth falls open and I feel her tight pussy spasm, I lift myself up, one hand on each side of her head, and drive into her over and over again until she releases her breath and cries out my name as she comes. When my balls are on fire, I pull out, lean back on my heels, and stroke myself as I watch her lay panting and trying to catch her breath while I come all over her belly and mine.
“Ohmygod,” she pants. “Ohmygod. Trucker. Ohmygod.”
I lean down and kiss her softly, rubbing my lips back and forth across hers, catching every escaped burst of air that releases from her. Then I roll to my side, putting my elbow on the bed and resting my head on it while I push her hair out of her face and watch as confusion dances in her eyes.
When she looks over at me, she sighs, “Oh, my God.”
I lean in and kiss her. “You are fucking amazing.”
She smiles against my mouth. “Yeah?”
“The best.”
I roll over and grab my boxers, using it to clean off her belly then mine. Then I ball it up and toss it next to my jeans.
“Was it … okay?”
I chuckle silently. “Ray, it was the best.”
She covers her face with her hand and shakes her head.
I pull it away. “You should know I love being inside you.” I kiss her lips, her nose, her cheek.
When I kiss her lips again, she tells me, “That’s good, because I’m pretty sure that’s my football.” She smiles at me. “Truth.”
I sleep better than I have since I met her.
When my alarm goes off on my phone, I get up, walk to the kitchenette, grab three glasses out of her cupboard, and fill them up with water. I knock the dirt off the flowers and into the garbage then put them in one of the glasses and set them on the table. I consider making coffee, but that would ensure she doesn’t go back to sleep, and I know damn well I will be as soon as I get on the plane heading for North Carolina. Instead, I grab the other two glasses of water and turn to see her sleepy smile.
“Morning,” I say as I walk back toward the bed and hand her a glass as I sit down.
She yawns as she takes it. “Morning. And thank you.”
The blanket falls, and I see her fully erect nipples peeking out at me. I lean in and kiss her head, grazing my knuckle against one.
“I have a flight to catch.”
She rolls to her back, sets her glass on the crate nightstand, and then gets up. She grabs a shirt off the floor and throws it on. Pulling her hair out from the back of the shirt, she then walks quickly into the bathroom where I hear her brushing her teeth.
I reach down and grab the mints from my jeans’ pocket and toss one in. When I push them back in, I feel the condom packet and curse myself for not using the damn thing. But fuck if it didn’t feel good.
When she comes out of the bathroom, she wipes her mouth off with the back of her hand and slides back into bed.
“Kiss me.”
“My pleasure.” I lean down and kiss her, sucking on her lower lip, so she opens to me. When she does, I slide my tongue into her mouth and push the mint inside it.
When I sit back, she smiles. “You left a little something in my mouth.”
“Yeah, about that … We need to get you on the pill, Ray, because I really wanna leave a lot of something inside you. I haven’t fucked raw in forever, and I’m not sure I ever want to again. Fucked up last night.” I lean in and kiss her. “Can’t do that again.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” She leans in and kisses me, sucks on my lip, and then passes back the mint.
“Mmm …” I wink.
“Good, right?” She smiles, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping the blanket around her.
My second alarm sounds on my phone. “Fuck, I wanna stay here and do that all day.”
“I have Sunday off.” She grins.
“Yeah?”
She nods. “When you win, you can do it all day Sunday.”
“If I lose?”
She leans over and licks my lips, then sucks on them before leaning back. “You won’t.”
I pull her into a hug and whisper in her ear, “I was rough on you. How do you feel?”
“Deliciously sore.”
“Perfect. When you watch the game tomorrow, remember who made you that way.”
“I’ll never forget.”
Wide awake
Keeka
The morning after Trucker and I had sex, he left to catch his flight, and I lay in bed, pondering the experiences, the moments this beautiful man from humble beginnings, the one who worked hard to one day become everything he wanted to become. How lucky am I to watch it happen?
I loved the way he touched me, from the ghost-kiss at the grocery store to the first and only time I have actually read to him when he touched my Bs, and every time after that. All those moments were magical. But that night, feeling him inside me, it surpassed any moment before, any fantasy I ever had about him over the past several months.
Growing up the way I did, with creepy uncles and aunts in and out of my life, I had come to my own conclusion about sex. It was loud, it was dirty, it made my mom tremendously high for an undetermined amount of time, and then it made her crash horrifically.
I will never forget the day Shakeeka used her key to come into our tiny apartment that was full of funny-smelling smoke, loud music, and naked bodies. I was in the bedroom, drawing a part of my story that was about a girl, who my mom assumed was me but wasn’t. In fact, it wasn’t a girl. It was a dog. And its name was Leddie.
Leddie found Lou, her talking ball, and they become best friends. They played on the beach together, where the ocean met the sand, where there was sun and wind and flying kites, and they got to watch people … families.
They were not in a room full of funny-smelling smoke and naked people making scary sounds. It was my happy place and, often times, my alternate reality for days and weeks from the moment I saw it coming to throughout one of her crashes.
I had started when I figured out that what was going on in our lives was not the norm. It was my earliest memory from on the beach in New Jersey when I saw her talking to a man who made her smile differently than the others. He had a family, too. A little girl.
I knew it wouldn’t last long, but I enjoyed it while I could.
When the phone calls began ending in anger, when meetings ended with her in tears. Then, finally, a party that ended with her and him fighting while I waited in a car, and then watched the police come in and take him.
I knew what would happen next, as sure as the sun is bright. Her eyes would go dark, and she would crash. But I would be okay. I could draw. And that was what I did in that room for what I assume was several days.
When I heard Shakeeka say my name and bang on the bedroom door, I felt like everything was going to be okay. She walked me out of the room with my head buried in her dress that smelled like cookies, brought me into her apartment, and hugged me tightly. I remember her whispering, “Everything’s gonna be all right, child.”
I slept in her bed that night, and when I woke up and looked out the window, I knew it was the afternoon. I knew because the sun was high in the sky.
When I came out of the room, she smiled, laughed, and I’m sure she made a mention of the mess my hair was. Mom hadn’t braided it for days.
After using the bathroom, I sat at her table that always had a pile of papers in the middle, and she sat a plate in front of me with a stack of pancakes on it and asked, “How long’s it been since you ate?”
She sat beside me and asked me if I knew what was going on in that room was wrong. I shook my head as I took my first bite. She tol
d me it wasn’t normal; that it wasn’t even legal. She thought my mom was sick, but not in a way people would notice, and she told me she was going to help me. I believed her, and I asked if she could help my mom, too.
Through the years, she taught me what she called her version of normal. She was the one who helped me when I got my “friend.” She was also the one to explain to me that sex between a man and woman was beautiful and nothing like I had witnessed that night. I was comfortable enough to ask questions, and she was more than comfortable to answer them.
She told me that sex would change me indefinitely and made me promise her, but more importantly myself, that when I chose to have it, it would be with someone I trusted to be honest and truthful with, and that the overwhelming amount of exultant emotions I was sure to feel should not be confused with forever.
“Sex is not love. Love runs so much deeper than those physical feelings and emotions. Love, mocha angel, is when you look at someone and want them to be just as happy as you are. And true love, that’s when that person feels exactly the same. When sex and love meet, watch out, child, because that’s when your heart sings the songs of Psalms.”
The Sunday after their win in North Carolina, Trucker came to the bar and talked to Lou about some benefit Reda had mentioned to him. It was for a local children’s hospital.
I glanced at him while stocking the beer cooler and tried not to laugh.
Trucker agreed to do it, though. He also shocked me by asking Lou if he would consider doing another one to help kids who couldn’t read, combined with kids with learning disabilities, which didn’t shock me. It made my heart melt.
My toes were no longer touching the clouds at all. I was soaring well above them with a heart full of happiness, and I didn’t care one bit that it would be ending soon. The experiences, the happiness, the moments with him would always be the best moments of my life. Ones I would surely smile about for years and years to come.
I listened as they made plans for after the season ended. One night would be guest bartending, and the other Lou talked him into karaoke.
After their talk, when Lou walked back to his office, Trucker sat at the bar, looking me over. His lower lip between his teeth, his brilliant blue eyes hooded and dark, he leaned in and asked, “How’d I do?”
“Amazing, absolutely amazing.”
“So, you feel up to tonight?”
I laughed to myself, thinking he was talking about the game. “Yeah.”
“Any chance I can get a key so I can go crash until you’re done?”
He wore a condom that night. And as he pulled out of me, he pulled it off, too, mumbling “Fucking things,” right before he came on my belly.
I hated that it annoyed him, and honestly, the thought of him coming inside of me, with me, made my insides melt. As soon he left my place Monday morning, I asked Siri where the nearest woman’s doctor was.
When I walked into the Family Planning Center on Monday, it hit me that they might need more information than I was able to give. I was terrified to fill out the paperwork required. The words I didn’t know, I had to speak into the voice memo app and watch it appear on the screen. This gave me the ability to fill out most of the form. I have heard the expression Just like riding a bike several times. I know it’s the same idea. Then again, I have never learned how to ride a bike.
When the nurse asked about immunizations, I got a little nervous and possibly defensive when I asked why that was necessary. It brought back the memory of the time Shakeeka and my mother argued over me attending school and getting immunizations.
After Mom died, I wanted to go to school. And before I could enroll, I was immunized. A couple of days later, I suffered all the minor side-effects that were possible.
Therefore, when the nurse practitioner at the Family Planning Center offered a choice between the shot or pills, I opted for the pills.
It wasn’t as expensive as I had expected, and since my period had stopped just days before, I was able to start them immediately.
That night, when Trucker walked into my place with a potted plant in one hand and a McDonald’s bag under his arm, I didn’t feel guilty that I had nothing to give him. I gave him the spare set of keys to my apartment and handed him the bag from the clinic.
He set the plant and the McDonalds’ bag on the table, pulled off his shirt as he turned around, and then pulled mine off, telling me, “I’m going to thank you in orgasms.”
For the rest of the season, we didn’t stick to a schedule. There was no need. If he was busy, I understood completely. He was living his dream, and I was loving every moment of it. I was drawing again. I was smiling even when he wasn’t around. I was enjoying every day, loving my life, reading and laughing. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t waiting for the crashes, or worried about when I could eat again, grieving, or feeling guilty because I had nothing to give in return. I had more, so much more than I could have imagined.
The last game of the season was the only time I felt a little anxious. It was because the game was neck in neck. It was because SU had been on a winning streak since we’d had sex the first time. It was because I knew what was at stake.
If they won this game, there was The Big East Title and the Fiesta Bowl to play. Scouts would be watching and the opportunity of being drafted to pros would be far greater.
When the game ends, Trucker Cohen is at the end zone, smiling and holding up four fingers before pointing at the camera. For you.
As the bar crowd celebrates the team’s victory, I feel tears welling in my eyes. For the first time ever, though, they aren’t tears of sorrow or sadness. They are ones of joy and happiness.
I turn my back to the bar so no one will see me. They just won’t stop. Wiping them away, I can’t stop smiling.
I feel a nudge and glance to my right as Lou hands me a tissue.
After I wipe my eyes, he laughs, his whole body shaking, and I can’t help joining him. He grabs me, lifts me up, and spins me around.
“Your boy had one hell of a season!”
“Our men, Lou, our men.”
After Lou sets me down, I send Trucker a text.
Keeka
I’m so proud of you, TRUCKER COHEN! And your team! But mostly YOU.
I put the Trucker phone in my pocket, knowing he’s yet to receive the text, but wanting to make sure that, as soon as he does, he knows I was celebrating that moment with him.
An hour later, the bar is still packed. Everyone is waiting for the Orangemen to show up.
Every time I hear his or Logan’s names, I look around. And every time I do, Lou has something smart to say about customers waiting.
When my phone vibrates in my back pocket, I turn back and pull it out.
“Keeka, customers. Focus on the damn customers,” Lou huffs
Trucker
Fuck Ray, thank you for being on this ride with me. Best damn ride I’ve ever ridden. ;) At dinner with Links’ family. See you in about an hour. Make sure the old man knows half our hometown will be there, too.
“Keeka, you need a break? Oh, you’re already taking one,” Lou grumbles.
I turn around and show him the phone.
He smiles quickly then gets serious again. “Good. Now get back to making those damn girly drinks.”
And make them I do.
It’s wall-to-wall people. The bar is five deep the entire length of it. Lou even hired a DJ to play tonight, knowing it would keep the crowd here.
When the music stops, I’m making change. When a new song begins, my entire body buzzes with the excitement.
The intro to “Enter Sandman” by Metallica starts plays while the DJ announces, “Ladies and gentlemen, the moment you’ve been waiting for has come. Please take a few steps back, part the orange sea from the door to the bar, and Lou, line ’em up. Put your hands together and welcome our Syracuse Orangemen.”
“You heard the man. Line ’em up, ladies. Shots of Jack for our champions!” Lou yells.
“Jes
us Christ, will you look at that?” Jody, the newest bartender, moans.
“I think my panties just melted,” Geissa sighs out.
Jana laughs. “You think that’s bad. My ovaries just exploded.”
Everyone who works here is on tonight, and we could use even more people.
I watch as they all walk in a straight line; Trucker in the front, and Logan right behind him. The entire team is wearing white SU hats, and every one of them have their hands out, high-fiving the crowd as they walk toward the bar. But Trucker is looking straight ahead with pure focus.
My entire body is buzzing as I watch his jaw muscles flex when his eyes meet mine.
I know it’s going to be a very long night, and that excites me further.
With the team lined up at the bar, the six of us push the shots forward. They all pick them up.
“Fuck yes!” Logan holds his up. “Fuck. Yes!”
They all toss them back, and then the crowd surrounds them.
Trucker is still looking at me, which makes me laugh.
He winks then turns his back to me to receive his well-deserved praise.
I can feel him watching me, but I barely have time to breathe, let alone talk to him. I suppose it should frustrate me, but it doesn’t. It makes me smile.
Throughout the night, I watch him dance and drink and smile and laugh. Seeing other women’s hands groping his chest, grinding against him, and yes, attempting to kiss him would probably make me insanely jealous, if it wasn’t for the fact he would push their hands off him, turn away, move to a different part of the floor, and always look at me apologetically. I knew it wasn’t his fault, and I also knew it would be something I would have to deal with on nights like this, when emotions are soaring over the win. Knowing it is me he’s going to be kissing, touching, having sex with, it makes it so much easier to deal.
The night flies by so fast that, when the DJ announces last call, I can’t believe it’s already over.
When the bar is empty, I’m exhausted, and my feet ache, but it doesn’t slow me down. In fact, I move faster.
