by KD Robichaux
"Hold up," I interrupt him again, "seeing that answer the door, you still go inside the hotel room?" I know my face is horrified, and when I glance from Gavin to Jason, I can see Jason's trying his best to contain laughter. I tear my eyes away from the way his are dancing with mirth and focus on Gavin as I take another big gulp of my drink.
"Okay, in my defense...I had taken some...happy pills before I went," he says, like that would explain his stupidity.
"What, like some kind of antidepressant or something?" I ask, not understanding how that would make any difference in his poor decision making.
"No, like HAPPY pills...as in Mr. Happy pills...I took my granddad's Viagra. I figured if it was a porn audition, I was gonna need some extra go-go to...you know...take whoever I was auditioning with to Poundtown," he says, nudging Jason with his elbow and wiggling his eyebrows up and down.
My eyes widen and I gasp, inhaling the sip I was taking down the wrong pipe. I choke for a second and panic when I can't catch my breath, and as Gavin just stands there laughing his ass off at me, Jason reaches behind me and pats me firmly on the back. When I'm finally able to cough and get some oxygen into my lungs, I look up into his face through my tear-filled eyes and he asks with eighty percent concern and twenty percent amusement if I'm okay. "Yeah," I croak, feeling his hand still resting in the center of my back. The heat from his palm spreads through me, and as my breathing returns to normal, my body instinctively leans toward him.
His eyes move from mine, down to my lips, and then back again, but the spell is broken when Adam declares he needs another Sprite and walks off toward the bar. Damn, I forgot that dude was even there again, I think as Jason jerks his hand away from my back and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out his cigarettes, lights one, and says out of the corner of his mouth, "Go on, fucker. You're getting to the best part."
"Yeah, so as I was saying, I had taken the pills and had a hard-on that wouldn't quit, and I still figured that either the chick I’d be banging was in the room, or would maybe show up after the interview, so I went inside. The guy told me to sit on the bed, and he sat down at a table where he had a video camera set up. We talked for a few minutes, him asking me if I had any experience in the porn industry and stuff, and then without hardly any preamble, he tells me to take off my clothes and lay on the bed." Gavin reaches over our empty shot glasses to grab his own cigarettes and lighter off the table. When he lights one up, I reach out and grab it out of his hand, turning it around and putting it in my own mouth. He quirks an eyebrow at me, but then grins and lights another one for himself.
I pull it from my lips, holding it between my pointer and middle fingers, and make a motion with that hand for him to keep going with his story, blowing out a long stream of smoke while feeling the nicotine mix deliciously with the alcohol coursing through my body. As Gavin speaks again, I glance at Jason, who isn't standing as close to me as he was, but is now watching me carefully. I take another drag as I direct my attention back to Gavin, trying to look like all my focus is on his story, even though I'm one, hyper aware of Jason's eyes on me, and two, can't really feel my face anymore, because I'm now definitely tipsy, so I'm not sure what my expression is. At least I did my booger check in the bathroom, I think and giggle, which is okay, because I believe Gavin just said something about the hotel room being hotter than a witch's titty. Okay, focus, Kayla. Pay attention to the story you gulped down a fucking shot to hear. With another puff of my cigarette, I zero in on what he's saying.
"...so I'm sweaty as fuck in this sleazy hotel room, naked on the bed with this creepy Mexican dude over in a chair by the TV with his camcorder, and then he tells me, I shit you not, 'Jack off until you come on yourself.' I'm all, 'Uhh, where's the girl?' and he's like, 'No girls until after you audition and get called back,' and then I'm all, 'Well, fuck.'"
He pauses to take a drink of his beer and I urge him, "So did you get up and leave?"
To my utter shock, he shakes his head, but has the decency to look ashamed...but only a little, and he continues, "He pushed the button on his little camera and tells me 'Go,' and I said fuck it and started jerking off. I mean, I was already hard because of the pill, so I might as well get it over with and hopefully get called back so I could fuck some porn stars, right? So I'm going to town, getting all into it, trying to make it good for the video, ya know? But after a few minutes, I'm no closer to coming, and my dick is so hard it's starting to hurt. I'm worried on the inside, but don't want it to show on the outside, because I wanted to look good and all...anyways, it took me like thirty fucking minutes to get off, and when I came, I almost cried right there, naked on the bed with my load on my chest in front of a dude videotaping me jerk off, because my dick was completely rubbed raw, and when my hand finally let go and the salt from my jizz and the air hit it, it felt like I lit my cock on fire."
At this, I completely lose it. I throw my head back and laugh so hard tears stream down my face. I'm happy to hear the two of them laughing with me so I don't look like an idiot dying laughing by myself, and when I catch my breath again, I finish the last of my drink and set the glass on the table, ungracefully shoving it against the other glasses and bottles on the table in order to make room for it. "So then what happened?" I ask as I flick my ashes onto the floor. It feels wrong to do it, but they're both doing it, and I don't see any ashtrays nearby. Plus, I'm a little too far gone to really care.
"Well, after I finally found the strength to move, I hobbled over to the bathroom and cleaned myself up, and grabbed some ice from the ice bucket sitting by the sink. I put it in one of the plastic wrappers that the cups in hotels are covered in, and when I put my pants back on, I put the makeshift ice pack on my junk. The dude told me he'd let me know if they were interested, and I left. Never heard from him again."
All I can do is shake my head, not only at him, but at myself as well. You really know how to pick ‘em, don’t you, Kayla?
I listen to Gavin and Jason banter back and forth, trying to one-up each other with crazy stories, but I don’t think anything can top the porn audition. I watch them play a few more games, and before I know it, it’s nearly 2am and the bar is closing. I feel a sudden sense of disappointment thinking about the night ending, but then Jason turns from the table where he’s collecting all the balls and asks his friends, “IHOP?”
“Fuck yeah, man,” Gavin answers, and Adam just nods.
I’m drunk enough that I’m completely uninhibited and ask the quiet giant, “Do you talk…like…ever?” I stand from my stool and grab onto his arm to keep from plopping back down as the room spins. He just smiles and hands me off to Gavin, who wraps his arm around my waist, and after grabbing my purse from where I hung it on the back of the chair, he hangs it around me like a necklace. I giggle and look up at him, whispering conspiratorially, “Your friend doesn’t talk. Did you know that?”
He grins down at me and replies, “We keep him around for muscle,” and then slaps Adam on his shoulder good naturedly.
We follow behind Jason as he takes the set of balls up to the bar, and the guys each pay their tabs. I thank Gavin for my drinks, and he tells me he was just getting me drunk to take advantage of me. I don’t know for sure, but I think he’s only half-joking. We make our way to the trucks, and this time, the drive isn’t nearly as scary. In fact, I shout for Gavin to drive faster, encouraging him to “Beat Jason’s ass!” as we speed up 45 before taking an exit that eventually leads us to an IHOP.
We’re loud and admittedly obnoxious as we enter the empty restaurant, but as we pick a booth in the smoking section, Jason and Gavin both call out, “Kevin!” and a tall, lanky man with skin the color of dark chocolate pops his head around the wall with a big grin on his face. I slide in on one side, and Gavin sits beside me. Adam sits across from me, and Jason slides in last.
“How y’all doin’ tonight?” he asks as he comes over to us with a bounce in his step. “And who is this purdy girl you’ve got wit’ ya?”
“I’m Kayla. Nic
e to meet ya, Kevin,” I say before anyone has the chance to introduce me. “I need cheese fries. Do you have cheese fries? I’ve only gotten breakfast food at an IHOP before, but I could really use some cheese fries.”
Gavin laughs and tells him, “She’s a little tipsy. We went to Legends.”
“Y’all are always up at that pool hall. Did you win any money this time, man?” he asks, pointing his question at Jason.
“Nah, wasn’t betting tonight, just played for fun,” he replies.
“Gotcha, gotcha. Alrighty then, so the hotty wants some cheese fries. Is that it for you?” he asks me.
“Ranch. I need lots of ranch with them…and some pancakes. Can’t come to IHOP and not get pancakes. Oh! Coffee. I definitely need some coffee if I’m gonna make it back home tonight,” I ramble.
Kevin chuckles and then takes the guys’ orders. When he leaves, they tell me they come here every night, whether it’s to sober up some before they go home after playing pool, or to pull a cram session, studying for tests at school. I find out Jason is going to school for Business, but hasn’t been in for long since he chose to get a couple of jobs right after he graduated high school instead of starting college immediately. Kevin brings us a full carafe of coffee and a bowl full of individual creamers, takes a moment to fill a mug for each of us before leaving again.
I reach over and grab a handful of sugar packets, and Jason asks, “Hand me some pinks, would ya?”
I look up at him, and as my eyes lock with his, I burst into a fit of giggles. His face shows a mix of confusion and humor as I continue to laugh at his question. I’m not really sure why it’s so funny, but in my fuzzy head, it was the most hilarious thing in the world for this tough looking, tatted-up dude to ask me for some ‘pinks’. I can’t stop the word vomit when I catch my breath and ask, “I’ve got something pink for ya,” and immediately slap my hand over my mouth, my eyes widening in horror as I look from Jason to Gavin.
There is a moment of awkward silence, where I don’t know if Gavin is going to laugh it off as a drunken joke, or if he is finally going to pick up on the fact I’m…I don’t know what to call it…crushing? Yeah, we’ll go with crushing…on his friend. I mean, I don’t have anything to feel guilty about. Gavin made it perfectly clear from the beginning he doesn’t want anything serious, but still. We are kinda, sorta dating, so even if we aren’t an exclusive couple, it still feels…wrong to like his friend. And I don’t even like Jason! I don’t know what I’m feeling. He’s an asshole—a very hot, funny, and smart asshole, but an asshole nonetheless.
Thankfully, Gavin throws his head back and lets out a burst of laughter, allowing me to let out the breath I’d been holding. I look back over to Jason, and he visibly relaxes, holding out his hand for the sweeteners he asked me for with a raised eyebrow. Instead of handing them to him though, I lean diagonally across the booth and look closely at him, getting within a foot of his face. His brow furrows as he has no choice but to look at me. I tilt my head to the side, studying his masculine but perfectly shaped black eyebrows.
“Do you pluck your eyebrows?!” I ask incredulously. There is no fucking way this…man, who screams alpha from every pore on his body, plucks his eyebrows. But they’re perfect, not a stray hair in sight, and it’s impossible that slight arch is natural. I can’t imagine Jason sitting in front of a lit magnified mirror with a pair of tweezers in-hand. My brain doesn’t even process the vision; all I get is an ERROR message crossing behind my eyes as I wait for his reply.
“No, I go get them waxed,” he answers unfazed.
Gavin scoffs…like, actually scoffs, and asks, “Dude…you get your eyebrows done?” A look of disbelief crosses his boyish face.
“Yeah, I go to the little Vietnamese chick at the nail place by the Kroger. If I didn’t, I’d look like the dude who works at the gas station,” he responds, swiping his pointer finger down the center between his eyebrows. “Now, can you please hand me some pinks?”
With a grin still plastered to my face, I reach over and pluck a few sweeteners from the holder next to the line of different flavored syrups, and then place them in his outstretched hand. My fingertips barely graze the center of his palm, but it’s enough to send a bolt of lightning all the way up my arm, causing me to jerk back and elbow Gavin right in the gut. I feel my face heat as he rubs his belly and asks me if I’m okay. “Sorry,” I say lamely, “something tickled my foot. I hope there isn’t a bug under there.” I look beneath the booth, trying to play off my fib. I top off my act with a dramatic shiver and fold my legs under me Indian-style.
A few minutes later, a woman who looks to be about my mom’s age peeks her head into our section. “You boys doin’ all right?”
“Hey, Max. Yeah, we’re just trying to sober up a little bit before we go home. Need our food to soak up some of the alcohol,” Gavin tells her as she comes over to our table.
“Well, it’ll be out in just a few minutes. Just waiting on French fries to get done,” she explains.
“Oh! Those are mine,” I say and bounce a little in my seat. “Do y’all know everybody who works here?” I ask the guys.
“Just the night shift. Max and Kevin are here every night when we come in,” Gavin answers.
“These boys could keep me in business themselves,” she jokes, patting Jason on the shoulder. He gives her a small smile before taking a long drink from his coffee mug. “It should be done in a sec. I’ll go check on it.”
“Thanks, Max,” Jason says, and she walks away.
“So did you end up meeting that chick off POF the other day?” Gavin asks Jason.
Jason takes a sip of his coffee before answering, “Yeah, but she didn’t look anything like her picture.”
I try to ignore the twinge of jealousy that blossoms inside my gut, but then it explodes into something else when he continues, “She was too skinny. She must’ve lost weight after the picture was taken or something, or maybe she had photoshopped herself.”
“Wait…what?” I ask, shaking my head in confusion. When he said she didn’t look like her picture, I had imagined just the opposite. I figured he meant the girl on the dating website had put on some extra pounds since the photo was taken, not the other way around. And he was disappointed by this?
“Ho-bichaux here is a chubby chaser,” Gavin says, grinning across the table at his friend.
“A what?” I can’t wrap my head around what they’re talking about.
“He goes hoggin’,” Gavin quips unhelpfully.
“Still not getting it,” I say, starting to get annoyed that they don’t outright explain it to me.
“He only dates fat chicks,” Gavin says slowly, using a voice he’d use on a kindergartner.
My mouth drops open and my eyes go wide, and I turn my head from Gavin to the sexy man sitting across from him, the one I’ve been drooling over all night, the one I’ve been imagining doing sinful things to since I met him hours ago, the one who I now know I’ll never have a chance with.
Somehow in my tipsy state, I remember to school my expression not to reveal any type of disappointment, only surprise in what’s been revealed. “Like, only big girls?”
“Yeah, and the bigger the better,” Jason says, refilling his coffee mug. He holds out his hand, and still blinking at him dumbly, I place a couple of sweeteners in his hand. “My screen name on POF is NoMax4Me.”
I make a mental note to search for his profile when I get home. I hadn’t seen him while I was browsing, and I’m pretty sure his picture would have stood out to me. I would’ve definitely messaged him.
“Is it just like a fetish or something? Like dudes who fantasize about women’s feet?” I ask.
“I guess you could call it that,” he says, and before I can ask him anymore questions, Kevin returns with all of our food.
I make it home safe and sound around five in the morning after filling my belly with tons of carbs to soak up all the alcohol. Instead of going straight to bed like I know I should, I head straight to
the extra bedroom next to mine, where I plop down in front of my brother’s computer. I hurriedly sign into my Plenty of Fish account, and in the search toolbar, I type in NOMAX4ME.
His picture immediately pops up. It’s a goofy one, not a picture of him trying to come off as tough or sexy. He’s sexy in his playfulness. He’s in the same black, long-sleeved shirt he wore tonight, and he’s not looking at the camera. He’s seems to be giving someone off the side ‘Blue Steel’—the pouty-lipped, funny expression Ben Stiller models in Zoolander. I can’t help but giggle, and when I click on his profile, I’m so giddy I don’t know where to look first. I decide to start from the beginning so I don’t miss anything.
NOMAX4ME
Age: 20
Birthday: January 25, 1984
His birthday is next week! I have to remember to tell him happy birthday.
Sign: Aquarius
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Dark brown
Height: 6’
Weight: 185
Looking For: Casual Encounters Only
And there we have it, folks. It all makes sense. The reason I didn’t come across his profile is because he’s got it set for exactly what I weeded out. Alas, I forge on.
Smoker: Yes
Drinker: Yes
Wants Kids: Someday
This answer makes me smile. I allow myself to picture him holding a baby, and can almost hear my ovaries sigh, ‘Awwww.’
About Me: I always hate this part of a profile. If you’d like to get to know me, then message me. As you can see, I put Casual Encounters as what I’m looking for. I’m not looking for a relationship. Take that at face value. You will not change my mind, so don’t contact me thinking you’ll be the girl who reforms me.