Futures and Frosting

by Tara Sivec

  Find a guy with an accent.

  Meet a guy with the same name as the groom and take a picture with him.

  Make out with one of the bridesmaids.

  I really don’t think I should be sober for this right now.

  “Mrs. Gates, you are looking positively radiant this evening. Have I mentioned that yet?” Jim states sweetly as he comes up behind his future mother-in-law and puts his arm around her shoulder.

  “Now, don’t try and distract me, James. I’ve got something for you too,” she says as she unfolds a baseball hat that said “Groom” on it and places it on his head.

  “Folks, if this is everyone, I need you all to take your seats so we can leave,” the limo driver informs us as he pokes his head in the door of the bus.

  “Well, I guess that’s my cue to leave,” Mrs. Gates says as she stands there, not making any attempt at moving.

  She glances around at everyone expectantly, waiting for someone to beg her to stay and join us.

  No one speaks.

  Or moves. There might have even been an uncomfortable cough that I think came from the driver.

  “Okay….well…you kids have fun now!” she finally says as she walks to the door of the bus. “Oh my goodness, I almost forgot the most important thing!”

  She turns back around and rushes down the aisle towards Liz. Everyone groans quietly.

  Mrs. Gates stops in front of her daughter and reaches into the giant suitcase she calls a purse and pulls out a penis. Or should I say, “penis products.” Lots and lots of penis products, things I didn’t even know they made in the shape of a penis, and now I will have to bleach my eyes at the thought of Liz’s mom walking into a store and purchasing these items:

  A candy necklace full of sugary penises, a penis-shaped water bottle, a penis-shaped pacifier that she decides needed to be tied around my neck.

  Yes, I am absolutely going to stay classy this evening.

  But she isn’t done yet, oh no. Next out of her bag of tricks: penis-shaped pasta. Seriously? What the fuck do we need with a bag of penis-shaped pasta on a limo bus? We’re not going to fill a pan with some water from the tiny bathroom at the back of the bus and stick it on the engine to boil it so we can make macaweenie and cheese.

  She hands Jenny a box of penis gummies that Drew tells her to open up immediately because he wants to hear her say, “This penis tastes so good.” Last but not least, she hands everyone different colored rubber penis pen caps. Because you know, at some point during the night there might be an emergency that calls for someone to write a note using only a pen with a penis pen cap.

  I should check the scavenger hunt. It could be on the list.

  Mrs. Gates looks like a perverted Mary Poppins pulling penises out of her carpet bag. I'm waiting for her to pull out a penis-shaped lamp or a penis-shaped coat stand. When she finally emptied her bag of all things phallic, she steps off of the bus and we all let out sighs of relief—and then we rip every single sash, hat, veil, and suck for a buck item off of us.

  Drew pours everyone a shot of Tequila Rose (in penis shot glasses, of course) and passes them out.

  “What is this pussy shit?” Jim asks as he sniffs the thick, pink liquid in his shot glass.

  “It smells like strawberry milk,” I say with a cringe. I don’t know about anyone else, but milk and liquor just does not sound like it should go together.

  “It tastes like strawberry milk too. And it’s good shit. I thought I’d start us off with something girly tonight so know one hurls in the first hour,” Drew explains.

  We all nod in understanding. No one wants to be the first one to puke.

  The six of us sit at the back of the bus around the semi-circle leather couch. We raise our shot glasses in the air until they all clink together in the middle.

  “I’d like to propose a toast,” Drew says. “Here’s to you, here’s to me – fuck you, here’s to me!”

  We all down the shots as the bus starts up and pulls away from the curb.

  6. Back Door Action

  Oh. My. God. What is that noise? WHAT IS THAT NOISE??

  It feels like someone is screaming in my ear with a bullhorn. I let out a groan, roll over, and pull the covers up over my head in an effort to stop it from exploding.

  Sweet Jesus what did I do last night?

  “CLAIRE! For fuck’s sake shut your alarm clock off!”

  The yelling from Liz on the other side of my door makes me cringe. I pull the covers down just far enough so I can squint at my alarm clock.

  Sure enough, the sound that's threatening to make my ears bleed is coming from that little bastard on our dresser across the room.

  The repetitive flash of the time, its bright red numbers, and the staccato beeping on that thing makes me think its judging me. I can hear it— tequila, shots, vodka, karaoke, you’re an idiot.

  “Carter,” I mumble.

  Jesus, my voice sounds like I swallowed a bucket full of gravel. It feels that way too.

  “Carter,” I groan again. “Shut off the alarm clock.”

  With my squinty eye, I turn my head as slowly as possible and see the spot next to me in bed is empty.

  “Shit.”

  I stick my arm out from under my cocoon and grab the first thing my fingers touch on my nightstand—a vibrator with a leash on it. It’s a sad, sad day when something like this doesn’t faze me. I whip it across the room and watch the giant pink rubber penis and its diamond-studded leash crash into the alarm clock and effectively shut it up.

  Small bursts of memories from last night flash through my addled brain and make me wish I can have a lobotomy.

  Did I sing “Like a Virgin” at a winery? And why am I not wearing any underwear?

  With my eyes squeezed shut so the bright rays of sun shining through the window don’t light them on fire, I stumble out of bed and throw on a pair of yoga pants that are crumpled on the floor. I slowly make my way out of the bedroom and into the living room.

  “Yo, Claire Bear! You’re alive!” Drew shouts from his spot on the couch as I peel my eyes open and gave him the finger for being so cheerful and not hung-over.

  How is that possible? He drank way more than me. I think. And why is he in our living room? I’m going to start charging this asshole rent.

  I stare at the annoying smile on Drew’s face and another memory from last night assaults me as I walk up to the kitchen table and pull out a chair.

  “Why do I remember you peeing somewhere in this house?” I ask with my gravelly voice that I hope is just from yelling and singing and not from puking somewhere I can’t recall.

  “Did you pee on this chair?” I ask angrily as my ass hovers above the seat cushion.

  “Yes, he peed in that chair,” Liz answers as she emerges from the laundry room off of the kitchen.

  “Fuck, it’s like we have a puppy,” I mutter as I move to take a seat at one of the bar stools by the island instead.

  “I didn’t pee that bad on it,” Drew complains as he walks into the kitchen and makes a show of looking really hard at the chair in question.

  “There is no GOOD level of pee on a chair, Drew!” I yell as I take the glass of water and aspirin Liz had set down on the counter in front of me. I throw the pills in my mouth and chug the entire glass of water.

  I hear the faint sound of music coming from somewhere and realize my purse is singing the theme song from “Golden Girls”. Liz and Drew start cracking up behind me as I reach to the end of the island and grab my purse, realizing by their snickers that one of them must have changed my ring tone.

  I dig through my purse trying to find the damn phone before that fucking song is stuck in my head all day.

  “…..traveled down the road and back again. Your heart is true; you’re a pal and a confidant…”

  My hand finally wraps around the offending cell phone and I quickly hit the send button to stop the song before I even get it out of my purse.

  “Hello?” I turn around to glare at L
iz and Drew, mouthing the words “What the fuck?” to them silently as I answer the phone. That just causes them to laugh even harder.

  “Wow, I didn’t think you’d be awake yet after last night.”

  The sound of Carter’s voice makes me forget that my so-called friends put some stupid ass song on my phone that I won’t be able to stop humming now.

  “Did we have sex last night?” I ask, having no shame whatsoever in the fact that I don’t remember. Generally, I like to know why I wake up with no pants or underwear on. It’s just a little quirk I have.

  “Are you referring to before or after we got home?” he asks.

  “Uh, both?”

  Carter sighs. “I don’t think you’re awake or sober enough to discuss the sex we had before we got home. After…well, I do believe sex was the general idea until I got your clothes off and you puked on me.”

  “Ooooh, sorry about that,” I apologize sheepishly.

  “It’s my fault. I should have never introduced you to Drew,” he replies jokingly.

  “He peed on our chair,” I complain, giving Drew the two-finger eye salute.

  “You puked on my dick,” Carter deadpans.

  “Fine, you win,” I say with a sigh. “So where are you?”

  “DUDE! LET ME TELL HER ABOUT THE BACK DOOR ACTION ON THE BUS!” Drew yells into the phone as he comes up next to me.

  I turn to look at Drew with a horrified look on my face.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask him. “Carter, what the fuck is he talking about?” I screech into the phone. “Oh Jesus. Did I let you…did we…OH MY GOD WE DID THAT ON A BUS SURROUNDED BY OUR FRIENDS?”

  The laughter comes from all around me now. Liz bends over so far in hysterics that she’s fallen on the floor; Drew wipes tears out of his eyes as he leans against the counter, and Carter was snorting on the other end of the phone.

  “No! No, it’s not what you’re thinking. Even though you begged me repeatedly saying, ‘Come on just stick it in my ass!’ I figured that was not a decision you were making with one hundred percent clarity. Tell me you at least remember being in the bathroom with me,” Carter begs.

  I put my elbows up on the counter and lean my head against one hand, closing my eyes to try and conjure up the bathroom rendezvous Carter speaks of.

  Everyone piles back on the bus after the third winery, a little louder and a lot drunker. Carter slumps onto the leather bench, pulling me down next to him until I am practically sprawled on top of him with my chest resting against his. He holds my face in both of his hands, and as the bus starts moving and our friends start yelling and goofing off in the front of the vehicle, he leans in and kissed me. His tongue slowly pushes past my lips and sweeps through my mouth causing butterflies to erupt in the pit of my stomach and warmth to spread between my legs. After a few minutes he pulls his mouth away from mine, and I let out a groan at the loss.

  “You wanna go in the bathroom?” Carter asks with a wag of his eyebrows.

  “No. I don’t have to pee right now,” I tell him as I leaned toward him so I can kiss him again. He tastes so yummy, like wine and sunshine and kittens.

  “I’m not talking about going to the bathroom to GO to the bathroom. I’m talking about going to the bathroom so I can stick it to you,” he says with a snort and a laugh.

  “You’re so romantic. Say it again,” I tell him as I bat my eyelashes at him.

  Carter looks over my shoulder and then back down at me.

  “Seriously. No one is looking. We could sneak into the bathroom and no one would even know. I’ll make it quick.”

  “No really, keep going. This is totally turning me on,” I tell him in a monotone voice.

  Carter pulls my face back toward him and our lips crash together. His tongue skates over my bottom lip before plunging back into my mouth. The pain of the week-long exiles while we work opposite shifts have become glaringly obvious as we deepened the kiss, and I practically crawl onto his lap.

  Carter’s hand slides down the side of my body, brushing over one breast and curving over my hip to clutch my ass and pull me closer to him. He moves his mouth away from my lips and starts planting warm, wet, open-mouthed kisses along my neck and collarbone until I feel like I'll melt into a puddle of goo on the floor of the bus. He gently grazes the side of my neck with his teeth and slides his tongue over the spot. I'm panting like a dog at this point and know I won’t make it much longer. If he keeps this up, I'm going to throw him down on the seat and bang him in front of everyone.

  “Okay, fine. You win. Bathroom. Now,” I mumble through my drunken, lust-induced haze.

  We stand up quickly and stumble our way to the tiny bathroom directly across from us. I vaguely hear one of the girls shout, “NO, no, no! I have to pee!” before we slam the door closed and fumble with the sliding lock. The bathroom is about the size of an airplane bathroom so maneuverability is nil. Carter’s body is pressed up against my back and he begins kissing and sucking on the back of my neck as I try in vain to get the stupid lock to slide closed.

  “I can’t get the fucking door to lock!” I complain through moans of pleasure as he brings his hands around my waist and slides them up my body until they cup both of my breasts.

  “Fuck it. I think it locks automatically anyway. That slide thing is just for the little sign on the outside that switches to 'occupied' or some shit. Everyone already knows we’re in here,” Carter says as he starts massaging my breasts.

  We turn as one so I can rest my hands on the edge of the sink and Carter can lift my skirt. A quick breaking of the bus makes me jerk forward and slam my shoulder into the wall above the sink.

  “Son of a bitch!” I yell. “This is going to be dangerous.”

  I giggle as Carter slides his hands back down my sides and grazes over a particularly ticklish spot.

  “You’re not supposed to be laughing. This is supposed to be awesome and hot,” he states as his hands slide down my thighs and then immediately back up, pushing my skirt up to my hips as he went.

  “Oh believe me, it’s totally hot,” I say with another giggle as the bus takes off and we fall backwards. Carter falls on top of the toilet, and I landed on his lap with an “oooomph”.

  “Okay, this might not have been one of our best ideas,” I say with a laugh as I try to get up but the bus takes a curve and we both crash our shoulders into the wall on the left right beneath the little bathroom window.

  “Dammit! We WILL have sex in this thing if it kills us,” Carter states as he pushes me off of his lap and stands back up behind me.

  “Carter, I think this IS going to kill us. My dad is going to have to tell his friends that his daughter died in a limo bus bathroom with her skirt up around her hips. That is not okay!”

  The bus straightens and maintains a steady, non-deadly speed and a quick glance out of the window shows us that we were on a long stretch of highway.

  “Are you sure no one can see us in here?” I ask in a panic as I feel Carter’s hands slide up the back of my thighs and then pull my underwear down a few inches.

  I hear his zipper open and fabric rustling and before I can think of any other reasons why this isn’t such a great idea, one of his hands slide around to the front, between my legs, and his fingers slide through my wetness. I had been aching with need for him since he first put his hand on my bare thigh in the car earlier. Having him touch me like this, for the first time in a week, makes me throw all rationale out the window - where I am pretty certain no one could see us.

  “No one can see us,” he whispers against my neck, practically reading my mind as two of his fingers plunge inside of me, and he slides his smooth, hardness between the cheeks of my ass. “The window in here is made of special glass. When you shut the door, it hits a trigger so we can see out, but no one can see in. Jim told me about it earlier.”

  He continues to slide his fingers in and out of me in a slow, tortuous fashion and like he wasn’t just talking about the sexual safety features on the
bus.

  “Holy hell,” I moan as he pulls his two fingers up to circle my clit.

  I think I hear horns honking and shouts coming from outside but at that point I don’t really care if we are stopped in a rest area and people are eating popcorn while staring in the window.

  “Fuck, I need you,” I tell him as I let go of the sink with one hand and reach back to grab onto his hip and pull him harder against me. “You should TOTALLY give me ‘nother baby,” I murmur drunkenly.

  Carter laughs as he pulls a condom out of the back pocket of his jeans and rips open the foil with his teeth.

  “I’m pretty sure you don’t really mean that,” he says as I feel his hands graze my ass while he sheathes himself.

  “Who cares if I mean it? The wine and vodka mean it. And they are ALWAYS serious. Give me your seeeeeeed.”

  I snort and blink my eyes a few times to get the room to stop spinning.

  Carter places both of his hands on my hips and I feel the tip of his penis at my opening. I let out a loud moan and Carter quickly reaches up and puts his hand over my mouth with a laugh.

  “Not so loud, baby. Everyone will hear you.”

  I pull Carter’s hand off of my mouth long enough to spout even more nonsense as he slowly pushes himself inside me.

  “You should stick it in my ass.”

  “I am not going to stick it in your ass,” Carter says with a muted groan as he moves a little deeper.

  “Come on, you know you want to stick it in my ass,” I goad him loudly.

  His hand comes back up to cover my mouth and my laughter turns into a pleasure-filled whimper as he pushes all the way inside me and holds himself still.

  “You should know that as a guy, I am pre-programmed to always want to stick it in your ass. I hope tomorrow you will appreciate my self control,” Carter explains as he slowly starts moving inside me.

  “If you knock on my backdoor right now, I will totally let you in,” I giggle.

  Carter stops again and takes a couple of deep calming breaths.