“Do you always get away with things? It's sexy,” Shane said. “I want to do it with you now that he's gone.”
Chelsea laughed.
“I can tell you do,” Chelsea said. “But we really need to get out of here. If that officer comes back and we're doing the exact same thing as we'd been doing, I think his attitude might shift a little bit.”
Shane smiled and lead the way back down the circling stairwell to her truck.
“Well I still had fun,” Shane said. “I don't care if the cops showed up to poo poo what we were doing. People come out here all the time to fool around and everyone knows it. Maybe that's why they have a cop come out and check now. That's no fun, though. I mean, what's it really hurt to add a little bit of excitement to the lives of people trying to have fun?”
Shane's word blended in with the rest of the background noise: the wind coming through Shane's window opened just a hair, the radio barely audible, the murmur of the tires against the pavement, and the occasional jet overhead. There was a lot going on in the world around them, although it wasn't what either of them really recognized as what was going on. They were both so into each other that at that moment there was nothing else but what they were doing, no other way but there way. It didn't matter to either of them that their night had been spoiled by authority. For Chelsea it had been enough to leave her father's stupid dinner with Shane. She knew that was going to cause her some grief, but she also knew that it was something that she'd been wanting to do for ages.
To often her father had taken for granted that she was a real person with wants and desires. Too often he'd looked the other way while one of her needs went unmet. And now he was going to give her all kind of bitching and moaning because she was a woman with needs, and goddamn it it why was it so bad if she did the exact same thing a man would do? Just because she was a woman? It all seemed to archaic to her, but at the same time Chelsea knew it was part of the game that made her father somebody, and allowed him to give her money and provide for her in the material sense.
Even if he'd been a lousy father in every other regard, at least Chelsea had never had to want afor anything. But at the same time, hadn't that hurt her in some ways? She'd never had to struggle a day in her life, or work, either. For her everything had just coasted along at a nice pace, and she didn't have to do anything to make that happen. But that was about to change, she thought. She wasn't going to back down on the Shane issue. She knew that her father was going to make all sorts of demands and try to get her to do what he wanted, but she just wasn't interested in that at this point.
“What are you thinking about? Anything neat,” Shane said. “I hope it's something that's a secret so you can tell me!”
Chelsea laughed, and then lied, telling Shane it was some dirty little secret about something she'd never done with a woman sexually. Shane laughed and looked at Chelsea with such lust in her eyes Chelsea wondered if they were going to make it back. But they did make it back, safe and sound, and when Chelsea crawled into bed, she wished Shane was there with here.
Chelsea drifted off to sleep, already knowing that tomorrow she'd have to answer for leaving early, and maybe even the antics afterward. She hoped that none of that would get back to her father, but at the same time it wasn't something she was very hopeful about. People liked to gossip, and to tear each other down. That was just the way of the world, it seemed like, sometimes anyway. Chelsea didn't know if that would be the case this time, or if the officer would actually hold to his word. She knew she'd find out in the morning.
The next morning, when Chelsea woke up still groggy from partying with Shane the night before, her father was furious at her.
“What in the hell did you think you were doing?” he hollered. “Leaving last night with that lesbian and going to smoke pot.”
“We didn't smoke any pot, dad,” Chelsea said. “I know that you think everyone in college is a pothead hippie, but it's really not that way anymore, if it ever was.”
Her father scoffed.
“What the fuck do you mean you didn't smoke any pot?” her father said.
They were sitting at the kitchen table. Chelsea was cradling her head in her arms in front of her. She hated it when she didn't remember what she did the night before. She barely recalled any of it, but as far as she could tell she hadn't smoked any pot. But what if she had? What did it matter? It wasn't as if what she did in her own private, off time was anyone's business but her own.
“What do you mean you didn't smoke pot?” he repeated.
He swung his hand up from behind him, and in it was the days paper. On the front page, there Chelsea was, smoking a big fat joint with Shane.
“You'd better believe I'm calling the college football team to have a long talk with the coach,” her father said as he threw the magazine down between them.
“It's not even football season,” Chelsea said. “Why in the world would you call the football team? And do you really think that they're even going to care? It's college we're talking about here, not some monastery.”
“I don't care what in the fuck you think about it, little girl,” her father sneered at her. “You think you have some kind of special privilege because you're my daughter?”
Her father was fired up.
“Do you have any idea what kind of trouble this is going to cause me? I just got done with a scandal, and here we are, just handing the press more shit to throw,” he said. “I know you don't give a flying fuck about anyone but yourself, but please, for the love of fucking God, try to think of what your actions could have the potential to turn into. I don't want to have to worry about this shit anymore? Do you got it?”
Chelsea rolled her eyes.
“Yeah dad, got it,” Chelsea said. “I'll be sure to keep all of my little shenanigans to myself from now on, and be sure to do them behind liked doors as if I'm some kind of spy playing war games.”
“You need to shut the fuck up,” her father said. “And seriously, listen to me! This is the kind of stuff that could make it harder for me to provide for you. I know that you think you'll be a super rich girl forever, and I now you've never thought about what it would be like to have to pay for college on your own, or to have to do anything on your own. You really don't understand what I'm saying, do you? All right, let me put it this way. I love you, OK? And I know that right now you just want to make it hurt for me, but please, pretty please, try to think about what you do before you do it? All right?”
“Fine! Dad! Fine! But for the love of fucking God, dad, stop talking,” Chelsea said. “You just drone on and on. You aren't ever interesting. You never have anything funny or uplifting to say. It's always just you droning and droning.”
“You're one to talk,” her father said. “Aren't you? You're one--”
Chelsea got up and left the room. She didn't care what her father thought, so it just didn't matter what he had to say. With the way he'd just treated her mother, Chelsea wasn't going to sit there and listen to an old self righteous prick prattle on and on.
Chelsea pulled out her cell phone and called Shane.
“Hey Shane,” Chelsea said. “What are you up to right now?”
“I'm hanging out with my best friend, Billy,” Shane said. “You could meet us at the bar and have a couple of drinks. The place we're going to hang out at is way relaxed and chill, not a place where the usual college crowd goes to gets blitzed. If you want we could all play pool or something.”
“That sounds great! I'll be on the road soon,” Chelsea said.
When Chelsea got to the bar she was totally surprised to find that Billy wasn't a guy, but a very cute boyish lesbian. Billy was slim, but still had all the curves where she needed them. Her hair was fire engine red, and her eyes were green. She was the kind of girl that Shane liked bringing around straight, curious girls because Billy was just the right right kind of sugar and spice that made people interested for more.
“How has your day been so far, sweet thing? Well, I hope,” Shan
e said. “And I hope you enjoy Billy. She's a dream to be around. Always so funny, and in good spirits the vast majority of the time.”
Of course Chelsea was smitten with Billy. Billy was beautiful, with her short black hair. It was nice to see someone so comfortable in their own skin. Not only that, it was amazing that she was such a peach to everyone. She was so nice, even though she was so beautiful. It made Chelsea think about why she found this so surprising, and it made her realize that she thought that way because so many hot straight girls made it a big deal that they were attractive.
The lesbians that Chelsea liked to be around were just like Billy and Shane. They were brilliant, successful, and good looking. They weren't afraid to be themselves, because who they truly were would blow you away. There wasn't any reason for them to worry about slipping up and embarrassing themselves in public because they weren't embarrassed of who they were on the inside. That was what really counts, and Chelsea knew it.
“Hey Billy,” Chelsea said. “Tell me a little about yourself. Where are you from? What do you do? That sort of thing.”
“Oh, well,” Billy said. “I'm from New York. I moved here to live by the ocean. The Gulf Coast is one of those places you move to and then you fall in love with it, not the other way around, so I'm glad that I made friends and ended up calling it home. I also like how the locals are friendly enough. What I don't like is all of the conservative thought that seems to seep to the coast from midland Texas. I didn't think that this part of Texas would be afflicted with that strain of thought, but I guess that's how life works.”
They all laughed at this while Shane racked the balls on a nearby pool table.
“I like the way you think, Billy,” Chelsea said. “Shane, why didn't you tell me that you had such an amazing friend a long time ago?”
“Well,,” Shane said. “I mean, I guess because Billy really is a special friend to me. I mean, sometimes, we even do the nasty together.”
Chelsea could feel her face turning read.
“I love how you're blushing,” Shane said. “It makes me think you're even cuter than I already do.”
She walked over and kissed Chelsea on the lips. Chelsea responded by pulling Shane close and quickly groping her ass before pushing her away.
“I love the way that you feel,” Chelsea said. “I know that we have to stop because everyone is staring at us, but I want you to know that you make me so hot that I can barely contain myself sometimes.”
“I know, baby girl,” Shane said. “And I love how much your body quivers when you hold me.”
They kissed and groped each other, and Billy said something about taking it to the restroom. There wasn't anything wrong with that, as far as Chelsea was concerned. She knew that she was going to have a blast with the two lesbians she was with once she got behind closed doors in the restroom with them. It was going to be glorious as they tongued each other, running their lips over each other's nipples.
And that's exactly what happened. The reason they had chosen this particular bar to go to was because the bathrooms were a twisting maze of old, decadent steam rooms and saunas with Pine seats, and actual restroom facilities with different themes. It was part of the bar's schtick, the way that people did naughty things in the bathroom. It wasn't ever out in the open where someone could get in trouble, but that was partly because the bar had been sure to make the bathrooms very much friendly to people doing things they needed to hide. It really was a twisting maze, and people that came to the bar liked that. They wanted to be able to sneak off to the bathroom to make each other feel good, then sneak back to the bar.
The girls stumbled into steam room and stripped naked after looking the door behind them. Part of the eroticism was being watched, because the glass always fogged up enough just to obscure facial features, but not enough to completely hide what was going on. People saw through the fog and could tell that there were the forms of three women intertwined beyond. It made Chelsea feel so hot to know that she was being watched by other sexual deviants passing by in the hall. Billy and Shane were really getting into touching and feeling Chelsea, and Chelsea loved it. It was one of the few times in her life she was glad to be inexperienced in something. If she had had experience with women she knew that she would look very differently at what was going on at present moment.
As things stood, this was her first threesome with two other women, and she was excited about it. She was especially excited to have it happen in spot more or less specifically designed for such things to take place. There was a lot going on in other rooms, she could tell by the moaning and slapping noises, but all she could focus on was what was happening to her. It felt so good to be getting pleasured by two different women at once, and she knew it was going to feel even better when things really got underway.
And soon they did. Things got hot and heavy as the steam in the steam room, swirling around them like a weightless fluid. It was amazing to feel Billy and Shane slip and slide all over her, Chelsea thought. And even more amazing when they slipped themselves into her. Chelsea wasn't sure what to say, but she wanted to dirty talk so bad. She also didn't know what Billy and Shane wanted to hear, and that was important when it came to dirty talk. Chelsea knew from experience how much her foul mouth could turn people off during sex, but she also knew how much it could get people going if it was something they enjoyed.
“Oh my God,” Chelsea said. “I've never experienced anything like this before in my entire life. You two have to know how much this means to me. Strong women are so . . . sexy. And sexual.”
Chelsea's voice trailed off as she was swept away by the feeling of fingers from four hands tickling and teasing her body all over. She couldn't believe this was something that she didn't do on a regular basis. It was like a carnival of sensation, something she hadn't known was possible. As she was swept away by her feelings, she thought about how she wanted to stay in the moment, but couldn't manage the feet of will. There was just too much overwhelming her.
In the last few moments of her really being herself, Chelsea knew that part of the kick she was getting out the entire thing was being rebellious. It was crazy for her to think that her father was such a stuck up prick that he'd probably have a problem with her having fun with her friends, as if it was any of his concern. He needed to shut the fuck and stay out of her life; who was he to tell her who to fun with when he couldn't keep his pants on during work? Chelsea just found him too ridiculous to be taken seriously.
“You think you've got it all figure out,” her father said. “And that's really what drives me crazy. There isn't any thought to anyone else, or the fact that you're pretty much wrong all of the time. When was the last time you were right? When you guessed true instead of false on one of your liberal arts tests in class? Get real. You don't know a God damn thing about the real world.”
Her father was always like this, with everyone. Chelsea didn't know if it had to do with power, or the people power attracted. Her father had been a really nice guy, years ago, before he'd gotten into politics. But then something had changed. He'd started to spend more time looking in the mirror than he did at the face of his wife or child. Both Chelsea and her mother had noticed it. Something subtle in the change had kept them from addressing it, though. As if a silence had been bred in them that they never knew existed. It was hard to explain to other people without sounding like they were keeping something back, holding a piece of information in secret for some reason.
Eventually, after the last scandal, her mother had quietly slipped out of their lives. Chelsea had decided to stay. She thought that the biggest reason her mother had left was being embarrassed to have been outed as not enough for her husband. It made Chelsea never want to get married, and although she knew not all men were like her father, it was hard not to see a little bit of her father in every man. She knew that men had a great capacity for apathy and hurtfulness. She also knew how they loved to accuse women of unfaithfulness and treachery.
It wasn't always the women
who were so, though. Chelsea had seen her father, time and again, lie for no other reason than it suited him to do so in those given moments. She knew now that he would lie about anything, even the smallest thing, without hesitation. Whenever he wanted to pass on the truth, he was incapable, because when the truth passed through him it seemed to be lost. It was as if he was some kind of human relay station that had been corrupted. And now, incapable of relaying the message, he knew he had to lead men in order to be accepted by him. That was what Chelsea thought, anyway. He had a need for power that was driven by a need not only to fit in, but be respected. And he couldn't imagine another way, or a better way, even though he worked shoulder and shoulder with other public servants much less prestigious than himself.
As Chelsea listened to her father drone on and on, she knew that all he wanted to hear was himself. It was the same reason he could work around so many well intentioned people but never have any of it rub off on him. He was an island unto himself, who didn't have a problem allowing the world around him turn to ash every time he touched it. Chelsea knew that she had to get away from him, but in order to do so she was going to have to put up with his incessant talking.
“Well, it's been great, dad,” Chelsea said. “But I'm going to go hang out with my friends now, and I don't care what you think.”
Her father raged as she walked away from him. But she knew that all he really wanted was his say. And just like any good politician, she knew that if she didn't do what he wanted it wouldn't mean consequences, but instead renegotiation. Because her father was just like every other politician who was in it for the wrong reason. He only wanted to do the right thing as long as it got him what he wanted. She knew that she could always count on him to do the right thing after he'd done everything else, but that was of little comfort.
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