Avoiding Amy Jackson

by N. A. Alcorn

  And speaking of inept sex skills of teenage boys, any girl who tells you she had an orgasm her first time having sex is a fucking liar. Getting your meat curtains penetrated by a teenage boy whose only sex skills mirror a god damn jackhammer is not a recipe for taking you to the Promised Land. It’s a disaster. A bloody, terrifying, scream-inducing disaster.

  We’ve all been there. The sacred moment when you allow someone to plunge inside of you for the first time and one quick thrust has you panicking at the discomfort. You naïvely agreed to play ‘just the tip’ and next thing you know your teenage boyfriend is shoving his tube steak all up in your delicate flower. Shoving and shoving and trying his hardest to break your little virginity barrier, and once that precious spot gives, you feel like someone just stabbed your cooter with a speculum. Ouch.

  Screw giving teenagers talks of abstinence! Send my ass around to some high schools and I’ll have fifteen-year-old girls imagining their boyfriends’ little peckers as the main attraction in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. They’ll guard their virtues like a young nun at a frat party. And for teenage boys, I think a little encouragement to keep some lube on hand, as well as dissuasion of using machine-gun-like thrusts, could really go a long way for our future generations. I think I just found my calling in life.

  As you can see, I wasn’t exactly a role model in terms of being the perfect teenage girl. I was a pain in the ass. I cussed like sailor, smoked Marlboro Reds, and made a career out of showing off my tits. Somehow, my parents managed to survive my high school years without strangling me to death. I can’t imagine what it would be like raising a horny, adolescent, sixteen-year-old version of me. I know my shenanigans did serve as a distraction for them. They were forced to focus on disciplining me instead of constantly missing my little brother Benny. After he died, I was always on the lookout for trouble and I compartmentalized everything, especially my part in his death. My brother’s death gutted me. I have a hard time even thinking about the memories of him that swirl around inside of my brain. It’s something I’m not too keen on talking about with anyone. I’m sure losing Benny served as a strong motivator for my current stance on the idea of getting married and having kids. Marriage and family? Yeah, I’m definitely not a fan.

  My Italian father and Irish mother have been married for over thirty years. They are the epitome of high school sweethearts. My entire family is astounded by the fact that I’ve never felt the urge to follow in my parents’ footsteps. My selfishness seems to outweigh any chance of having a sappy, romantic bone in my body.

  I skim over the entire subject that is my brother Benny by grilling James with questions about his family. He’s originally from Cincinnati, Ohio, and actually attended med school at the University of Cincinnati. He’s an only child, and his parents are also retired. His mom and dad used to own a small printing company and have since sold their business and focused their energy on enjoying their retirement together. They are currently traveling the country in a small RV and seem to make a career out of constantly telling him that he needs to find a nice girl to settle down with. I’d say it’s obvious that both of our parents have a lot in common in terms of marriage, family, and their overall outlooks on life.

  “Were your parents happy you joined the Marines?”

  James nods his head as he takes a long sip from his coffee, his eyes never leaving mine. “It’s safe to say that my mom and dad were more than thrilled I joined the Marines fresh out of high school. I was kind of a pain in the ass back then. Constantly in trouble.”

  “Keep going. I need to hear all about the kind of trouble that teenage James Williams got into.” I raise my eyebrow in his direction and gesture enthusiastically with my hand for him to continue.

  He chuckles quietly. “Well…where in the hell do I begin? I got in a lot of fights. I was the kind of punk kid who was always looking for trouble or, at the very least, finding a way to start trouble. My senior year, I was suspended for a week after I beat the shit out of Billy Hawkins. In my defense, the cocksucker deserved it. He messed around with my buddy’s girl, Alicia. And in Billy’s defense, Alicia Opens lived up to her last name. Apparently, her pussy was like a Seven-Eleven, always open for servicing.”

  I’m immediately reminded of Veronica Morris. I bet she and Alicia would have been great friends had they known each other back in high school. “Sounds like someone should have kicked Alicia’s ass too.”

  James immediately nods his head in response. “Yeah, that girl was a piece of work and one chick I didn’t let anywhere near my dick.”

  My eyes squint in amusement as a small smile crosses my face. “So your teenage dick saw a lot of action? Is that what you’re trying to tell me here, James?”

  “A gentleman never tells, sweetheart.”

  “Oh get the fuck over yourself. You were a man-whore in high school,” I say with a teasing tone to my voice.

  James’s only response is to let out a barking laugh and hold both hands up in the air.

  I reach across the table and poke my finger into his hard chest. “God, you are an asshole.”

  “I’m an asshole?” he questions with amusement. “What do you want to hear? You want me to tell you that I never settled down with one girl in high school and enjoyed the many selections that were available on the easy-teenage-girls menu?”

  I point my finger in his direction. “That’s exactly what I want you to tell me.”

  “I definitely avoided girls like Alicia, but I kept myself occupied.”

  “You kept your dick occupied,” I add.

  “Yeah, that too,” James responds with quick smirk.

  James was obviously quite the hell-raiser in high school, and it sounds like his parents were ecstatic that he gained some discipline and structure in the military. His track record doesn’t really resemble the typical, perfect-student résumé most physicians have, and honestly, this makes me like him even more. I kind of like that he’s a little rough around the edges, a sort of bad boy, so to speak. What girl doesn’t love a bad boy, right?

  Probably one who is only going to have a friendship with said bad boy.

  My snarky subconscious really needs to get a life and stay the fuck out of my business.

  “What time do I need to get you back?” James asks as he glances at his watch. “It’s almost three.”

  “Shit. I should probably head back soon. I promised Lizzy I’d go to the gym with her when she gets back from class.” I ignore the slight twinge of disappointment that spurs from the idea that my time with James is almost over.

  I’m sure it’s because I’m really starting to enjoy his friendship…

  Yeah, keep telling yourself that, dumbass.

  “Okay, well let’s head out.”

  We make our way to his SUV, and James is the perfect gentleman. He opens my door, helps me in to the car…you know, all of the normal bullshit. The drive to my apartment is quiet, peaceful. The silence between us isn’t bothersome. I don’t feel the need to keep up a steady flow of conversation. Maybe this whole friendship thing isn’t going to be all that bad?

  How about them apples, subconscious?!

  James pulls into a spot in front of my building and adjusts in his seat. He turns his body towards mine. “I really had a good time with you today. I hope we can do this again soon…friend.”

  “Sure thing, friend.” I chuckle a little. “I had a surprisingly good time today, too.”

  His eyebrows crease in and he looks back at me questioningly. “Did you expect it to be terrible?”

  “No, nothing like that. I was just afraid we’d end up killing each other. Our past encounters haven’t been all that warm and fuzzy.” I give him a soft smile and gently pat his jean-clad thigh. “But I’m glad we did this. I think I could get used to being friends.”

  He grabs my hand, placing it in his warm palm, and his eyes turn serious as they lock with mine. “Me too.” He leans in and gently places his lips on mine, giving me a small, soft kiss. My eyes close compuls
orily and my hands move back to my lap, my fists grasping my t-shirt tightly. My reaction isn’t from anger; it’s from want. I want him to continue kissing me. I want him to slide his tongue past mine. I want him to put his hands all over my body.

  James’s lips gently pull away from mine and I’m left with a burning, tingling sensation prickling all over my skin. I have the urge to straddle his lap and slide my tongue into his mouth.

  That urge needs to take a fucking hike.

  Get yourself together.

  I shake my head, clearing the horny fog that was resting over me, and slowly open my eyes. My lips are still burning from his touch, from the feel of his lips against mine.

  And there he is, with that fucking smug grin on his face.

  “Do you make a habit of kissing all of your friends like that? Even your buddy, Trent?” I question with a defiant raise of my eyebrow.

  A deep chuckle escapes his throat. “Well, if I tell you I’m going to start kissing Trent like that, will it mean that you’ll let me kiss you again?”

  He’s incorrigible!

  I roll my eyes heavenward. The harsh movement nearly gives me a headache. I throw James an irritated stare. “Now you’re the ridiculous one. And the answer to your question is no. I agreed to friendship, and if you plan to kiss me like that again, I’d start wearing a jockstrap with a steel cup.”

  “I’ll remember that,” he replies, grinning.

  “I guess I better get out of here before you try something else.” I smirk into his green eyes. “Thanks for the coffee, James. I’ll see ya later.”

  As I walk towards my apartment, I can’t ignore the fact that my fingers touch my lips. The exact place where James’s soft, full, incredible mouth touched mine. I close my eyes and remember the feel, the feel of his touch, even if the kiss was only chaste. Being friends with him may be the death of me. I need to get laid soon or else I’m not sure what I’ll be capable of when James is around.

  I hear my snarky subconscious loudly clear her throat.

  Oh you can go ahead and take your testy attitude and shove it up your ass!

  Chapter Eight

  “Threesomes…

  Sometimes it’s just what the doctor ordered.” - Amy

  “Mom, I’m sorry, but I just can’t take time off for Thanksgiving to come home. I wish I could, but I work tomorrow night. It’s my holiday this year.”

  “Amy, I just really wish your father and I could see you. It’s been months since you’ve come to Louisville to visit.” My heart breaks at my mother’s sad tone.

  “I’m really sorry. If I could have found someone to switch me, I would have done it. Please don’t be sad. I’m sure you and dad will have a nice dinner. Are you inviting Aunt Betty and her kids over?”

  She sighs heavily into the phone. “No, I think your father and I will just enjoy an early Thanksgiving dinner and then we’ll go visit Benny.”

  I close my eyes at the sound of my brother’s name. Emotion threatens to spill out of my throat. There isn’t a day that’s gone by that I haven’t thought about Benny. The guilt and the overwhelming grief I continually avoid are always waiting, festering inside of me. One of these days, this dam of emotion will break and the inevitable is worrisome. But right now, I’m going to do what I always do—avoid talking about anything Benny-related.

  “Sweetheart, are you still there?”

  “Yeah, Mom, I’m here. I’m actually kind of busy right now. Can I call you back later?” My voice cracks slightly.

  “Are you sure you’re okay, Amy? You sound upset,” she says, voices her concern.

  “Yes, Mom, I’m fine. Just super busy. I’m supposed to go out for a few drinks with my friends tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow before I head into work and wish you a happy Thanksgiving, okay?” I brush the rogue tear that managed to get loose from my cheek.

  She lets out a deep breath into the receiver. “Okay. Please be careful tonight.”

  “I will. I love you. Tell Dad I miss him.”

  “I love you too, sweetie.”

  ****

  I’m on a one-woman mission to blitzed-ville. The phone conversation with my mom provided inspiration for this newfound desire to get sauced. Maybe this isn’t exactly newfound, but I had no prior plans of getting rocked tonight. I had planned on just having a couple of drinks with Lizzy and a bunch of my coworkers, but now…I’ve reached the several mark.

  Murphy’s is packed. Tonight is one of the busiest drinking nights of the year. The bar is filled with mostly college-aged guys and a few girls whose clothing choices leave little to the imagination. I’m a few beers and numerous shots deep. The music calls to me, practically beckoning for me to shake my ass on the dance floor.

  “Lizzy, wanna dance?” I stand next to her barstool and beg her to follow my lead.

  She gives me a tired look. “Ugh, Amy,” she groans. “I thought this was going to be a laidback night, just a few drinks, and no dancing. What changed?”

  I rock back and forth on my heels, trying to keep my dance moves to myself until I reach the floor. “I don’t know. I just feel like dancing.” I shrug my shoulders, placing my hands on my hips.

  “You’re acting strange tonight,” she announces. Her head tilts to the side as she begins to analyze my face.

  “Fine. You stay here with Tony and Rachel. I’ll go dance.” I quickly leave her scrutiny before Lizzy starts acting like her sister and interrogating me with one thousand and one questions.

  The music is loud and practically vibrating my chest. The dance floor is crowded with mostly twenty-somethings. I’m twenty-nine, so I feel like this crowd still works for me. I walk to the center of the floor, sliding past couples showing far too much affection. I think I’m one of the few single women here tonight. Oh well. I can work with that. I’m not here to get laid, I’m here to drink and dance and get my mind off things.

  The vibrating and intoxicating beat of Come Together by Sons of the Sea begins to play over the speakers. My body starts to sway to the music; my mind slowly lets go of everything. My hips move with the beat and my hands slowly lift into the air as sweat starts to drip down the nape of my neck.

  This is exactly what I needed.

  I close my eyes as I continue to let the music take control. Let myself fade away into the heady sound of this sensual track. Warm hands grip my waist and I enjoy the feel of a masculine chest pressed against my back. I turn into his touch and come face to face with a gorgeous brown-eyed guy. He’s young, maybe twenty-two or twenty-three. His eyes are on me, soaking up every inch of skin that’s revealed by my tank top and skirt. I’m hypnotized by the sheer audacity of him. He’s essentially telling me that I’m his tonight with his penetrating gaze and tight grip on my waist. I’m not denying this fact.

  The music switches to another sensual beat and I’m lost in the moment. I’m lost in the feel of being in a guy’s arms. I savor the feel of his virile hands as they caress my sides, running up and down my arms. Another pair of hands wraps around my waist, and I can tell by the look of Brown Eyes’s gaze that he knows him.

  This must be their routine.

  It’s lame and pathetic, but it’s much needed tonight. Brown Eyes leans down and brushes his lips against mine, slowly licking his tongue along my bottom lip. My lips quirk into a smile against his mouth. I like him. I like his boldness and his confidence. I’m also liking the fact that two guys are wrapped around me, caressing me, pressing themselves against me. This is one hell of a feeling for a woman who hasn’t gotten laid in...

  Shit, when was the last time I had sex?

  Forget that question. Enjoy this moment. Enjoy the feel of two hard cocks pressed against you, practically begging for your pussy. Ah, yes, I’m most definitely enjoying this. The alcohol makes my head feel light and my body feels incredibly loose. I’m starting to contemplate taking these two into the bathroom and letting them do dirty, dirty things to me.

  Fuck it.

  “Come with me,” I whisper into Brown
Eyes’s ear, my tongue licking along his soft lobe.

  “Where?” His piercing gaze is making me feel heady. And horny—don’t forget horny.

  I seductively look into his eyes before saying, “Just follow me.” I fist my hand into his shirt and lead him behind me. As we head towards the bathrooms in the back of the bar, I notice that his friend is following us. He’s also young but definitely attractive—and for sure welcome to come. I open the door to the ladies’ restroom and lock it behind us. Luckily for me, Murphy’s bathrooms only have one stall and are easily made into threesome VIP rooms.

  Threesome? Really?

  Fuck yes. A threesome is just what the doctor ordered to keep my grief-filled thoughts at bay.

  “What are your names?” I ask inquisitively as I slowly slide my tank top off, leaving only my white lace bra and black skirt visible to their eyes.

  Brown Eyes smirks and runs his fingers through his deliciously sexy chocolate brown hair.

  “Cam,” he says huskily with a wicked smile that could make my panties melt right off my body. He steps towards me, his eyes drinking in every inch of me.

  I force my gaze to his friend, who is ogling my scantily clad getup.

  “Nick,” he says as his grey gaze continues to eye-fuck me.

  Cam starts to kiss along my neck as his hand slides inside my jean skirt and slowly pushes my panties to the side. His fingers inch towards my clit. I fist my hands into his hair and crash my lips to his. Our tongues mingle, entwine, and nearly fuck each other. Nick stands behind me and glides his hands along my waist until he reaches the button of my jean skirt. His deft fingers make quick work of my skirt, leaving me in only my bra and panties. I’m drenched and lost in the feel of two men rubbing against me.