by KT Morrison
“Oh, Tyler,” she gasped. Her hand scratched his neck, and up into his hair. Her head went back and her eyes closed. Tyler kissed her neck. He kissed and sucked and he bit her and she couldn’t imagine a better feeling than this.
His thrusts got urgent. She got wetter as he pumped his precum inside her. His neck quivered under her fingers.
“Baby, come for me, Tyler, come for me.”
“I’m going to come inside you, Jess.”
“Do it, baby.”
“God, fuck, Jess, you’re so sexy, baby. You feel so fucking good.”
“Angh,” she cried and she bit her lip in bewildering passion.
“I’m about to come so hard inside you, baby.”
He grunted with his thrusts, he had her flesh shaking with his power.
“Yeah, do it. I’m on the pill now, baby, come in me every...time...oh...”
“Ah...Jess, it was so sexy...when it was wrong...”
“You want to make...ah...little baby with me for real?”
“I...ah...want to make four babies...four little ones...ah...little Andy and Petey will have..a big family...lots of friends...”
“Oh, do it, Tyler, please come, I want to feel it, baby...”
He choked and spurted warmly into her neck. She hugged him tight as his huge cock swelled large and hard as he launched his hot seed into her belly. He held her tightly, cried her name softly as he buried himself deeply into her until it hurt. He squeezed every bit out of those big hanging balls, he spewed every last drop inside her.
Her heart pounded in her ears like never before. It hammered a mile a minute. She felt so amazing. She breathed him in, scratched her fingers lightly through his hair. She felt so young. So vital.
She had babies, she was good at it. She would give him big, strong, healthy children. She was sexy. She was a mother. She’d bear all his babies, feed them from her own body.
“Dangerous? I didn’t find anything...I don’t think he would hurt your wife, no. I didn’t find anything like that.”
“What did you find?”
He looked down at the table, kind of shook his head, said, “I just wanted to know where he went so I could get him in a gunsight. More I looked, more I didn’t care about him anymore.”
“Really? Didn’t care?”
“He’s just a dumb kid. My wife’s stupid enough to fall for all that, all more power to her, you know. Go, get out of my life.” He waved his thick fingers out in front of him. “Yeah, I searched around, went through his records...even went to visit where he grew up, see if he ran home to his momma. Would have blasted him right on her doorstep. Found he’s just Pennsylvania trash. Trailer Park. Came outta there without a dad. Maybe better without one though; four Domestic calls when his dad was living at home.”
“Oh.”
Andy was at the table then. “Daddy, can we have some more quarters?”
“Where’s your brother?” he asked him, putting his hand in his pocket.
“He’s holding the game for us, there was some big kids...”
“Here you go,” he said, gave him a five dollar bill. “Go get some change.”
“Can I spend it all on games?”
Pete squinted, pursed his lips. “Fine.”
Then he was off.
Mark went on after Andy had disappeared. “Listen, he’s seen some trouble. Assaulted a guy at a bar when he was in Albright. Him and two other players. Broke the guy’s leg. On purpose. That was the only bad thing I found. But he does have a lot of debt—”
“Broke a guy’s leg?”
“Drunken college athlete shit. He escaped charges, he wasn’t criminally liable. There wasn’t enough to charge him with, no evidence, three words against one. But victim got a judgment against him in Civil Court—owes that guy thirty-five grand.”
“Wow.”
“His last year at Albright? He was off the team. Didn’t find out why. Might be the assault. He finished last year without help from his scholarship. So the judgment, a year’s tuition, credit cards, whatever he owes his steroid guy—I figure he’s in pretty deep. Close to...well very high five figures.”
“He’s on steroids?”
Mark looked at him like he was crazy. “On steroids? Course, look at him. Winstrol, Deca, all sorts of Mexican veterinary supplements. I know he bought when he was here.”
Jesus, how big were his balls before?
“You know, going through his records, going out and seeing where he lived, talking to his momma, talking to men knew him on the team...after a long time I just didn’t care. I was tracking him down and I found all those things and I lost interest. I felt...I don’t know...”
“Bad for him?”
“No. Definitely not. I just didn’t hate him anymore. Actually felt real good to let it go. Let him go. First, I saw him as the man who stole my wife. This big muscular guy that walked right up and took her from me. Walked away with her. But after a while, I saw him...like a dumb human, not some villain. Just a stupid asshole. Fuck, though, you know...if I had shot him I still don’t think I would regret it. I’m glad I didn’t find him. Yeah, it was better for everyone that he ran away. It hurts...I don’t like to think about it. But with Linda out of my life now it’s been better.”
Pete smiled, said, “Until I came and brought it up. Sorry.”
“It’s good. I’m glad. When Allison called, said his name, I got pretty tight but I’m glad I’m talking to you. I wouldn’t tell you what to do but I can tell you that letting her go, letting the anger go, has done wonders for me. Kept me out of prison. I wouldn’t be popular there...”
Pete laughed, “You wouldn’t.” Pete felt suddenly emboldened in the thought that even this masculine guy could have his wife taken. It wasn’t just Pete. It could happen to anyone. Maybe he wasn’t such a loser.
“He can keep the money too. Just a couple grand.”
“She gave him money?”
Mark nodded. “He didn’t steal it, he just...he took what she offered. She did it cause she was kind. All in all, I think he’s just a little boy looking for a mother. You know?”
Pete nodded.
They looked over at the Play Zone, at Petey and Andy playing at the Skee Ball. Andy throwing the ball overhand, banging it practically straight down into the zero hole. Petey was trying to show him how to throw it underhand with both hands starting between his knees.
“Oh, shoot. Sorry.”
“Their mom’s with him now. They went on vacation together. She told me she wants a divorce.”
Mark exhaled. “Girls’ll fall for the bad boy. I hope you’re all right.”
“I thought she was better than this.”
“Tyler’s not the devil. He just doesn’t have a compass.”
“Great. My Jess is following him and he has no idea where he’s going.”
“I don’t know if any of this helps you at all. I hope you got something.”
“Yeah.”
“Were you hoping to hear he was a wanted felon and I was gonna go arrest him right now?”
“No. I didn’t know what I’d find out here at all. Didn’t even know who you were, let alone that you were a cop. I only knew he ran away from something here.”
“He took off so fast he left his dog behind.”
“What happened to it?”
“I still have it. He’s my buddy now.”
“He runs from his problems, doesn’t he?”
Pete called the boys over when the pizzas came on two tall metal stands. The four of them ate every single piece and the boys told Mark about their mom, it made Mark’s eyes sad but he was smiling. Not once did the boys mention Tyler.
Pete parked at the pale grey foot of Ohio Stadium. A small lot, close to the Human Sciences building, but it had cheap parking since he didn’t have a campus pass. Used to park here every Tuesday and Thursday nine years ago, late afternoon class, Managing Retail and Hospitality Operations. He locked up.
He carried Andy on his hip; he was sleepy
from the long car ride back to Columbus. “Petey, take my hand,” he said.
“Dad, I have to pee again,” Petey said.
“There’s a nice clean bathroom where we’re going.”
There had been, at least, nine years ago in the Human Sciences Building. They found it. It was still there. Andy was awake enough to walk now, and Pete and Pete Junior used the facilities, Petey just tall enough to use a University height urinal.
“You’re getting tall, buddy,” he said standing next to his little boy.
He bought them a couple of Fruitopias from a vending machine because Petey said he was thirsty which meant Andy would say he was too, and he took them up to the fourth floor on the brick side of the facility. He walked them down the polished hallway and sat them on a bench that looked out across an open area in the centre of a confluence of hallways and glass doors. He sat down with them, popped the tabs on all their drinks.
This was the spot where he’d first met her. The spot where his eyeballs first landed on the best thing that had ever happened in his life. He could see her, coming through that glass door on his right, her oversized sweatshirt, her sexy legs clad in dance tights. She had a gym bag slung over her shoulder. She was late and her face showed it. Her worried brow, her drawn cheeks—she’d needed that job, couldn’t be late on her first day. She needed help. She was on the verge of tears.
Who was this coming in from the left to save the day? A young Pete Mapplethorpe. A good guy. He was kind of handsome back then, he was thin but fit. Why was he so hard on that guy? He tracked him across the hall, watched him address her with his voice made deep from lack of sleep, take the paper from her trembling hand. He knew where she needed to be. He would help her get there. He took her bag for her.
His two sons sat on either side of him. He wasn’t going to cry in front of them. “So, boys, this is where your mom and I met. This was our school. Your mom came in that door and I was walking down from this side,” he pointed with his finger. They followed along. “Your mom needed help and I helped her,” he said quietly. “My life changed right here.”
He’d taken her across the building, whisked her to where she needed to be, through the elevated red glass walkway that got them to the more modern, glass and steel side of the building. He’d stopped her before she went in, he’d dared to ask her out. He thought it was crazy. Weird guy like Pete asking out such a pretty girl. He’d hoped he didn’t offend her. Her kind, sweet face agreed. She’d go out. She hugged him. She didn’t think it was crazy. She thought he was worthy. He was worthy. He was the one who thought he was no good. Not her. Only him. She was innocent.
He took out his phone, texted her.
Pete: sitting with the boys where we first met, I
He deleted it. He meant it sweet, but that would be manipulative to her. That would be weak. Playing on her emotions. He’d been sending her these texts while she was away, like messages in a bottle, not knowing if she would ever read them.
He wasn’t unworthy. That was in his head. He deserved Jess. She could have said No, but she didn’t. His love for her was real. Couldn’t her love for him have been real?
She’d told Tyler she was going to dump Pete, then he got her pregnant. Was she going to leave him? Did he knock her up and trap her? Hitch his heavy weight around her ankle with a burdensome chain?
He put his arms around his two boys and pulled them to his side. He wasn’t bad looking. He wasn’t. He was in decent shape. He was smart. He had some success. Why didn’t he think he deserved her? Why did he think she was a trophy that he didn’t deserve to win? She was a decent, warm, caring human being who had at one time loved him.
He could blame himself. He had done this to her. Pushed her away from him, into Tyler’s arms. But he knew he was done with blaming himself. Blame was pointless. He was tired of it now and it didn’t even tickle him in the belly in the slightest. Not when it was for real.
He got up and threw their empty drinks in the recycling bin, put his hands out to take his boys, walked them back out the way he came. Walked those initiate halls, where he walked a hundred years ago when he met the woman he loved and swore she would be his and he would be the one to protect her forever. By the time he got to the Buick he knew what he had to do.
“How do I look?”
“Hot.”
“Thanks, baby, I needed to hear that.” She stood on her toes and kissed him at the foot of their bed. She was wearing a black cotton dress and flats even though she thought it kind of made her legs look short. She’d put her contacts in for the evening too. She hated wearing them.
She turned and checked herself out in the mirror over the dresser. Did she look good? Was he just saying that?
She had no idea what twenty-year-olds were wearing to clubs nowadays. She didn’t know what they were wearing when she was a twenty-year-old either though. She didn't want Tyler to see her nervous. She was nervous. It had been more than ten years since she’d gone to a club. A club like the one they were going to tonight. She could picture it, imagine what it would be like. Not like the Cantina when they went out on New Year’s. Those people were mostly her own age, quite a few even older than her. This was more like Tyler’s world. Tyler’s people. Even when she was Tyler’s age she didn’t really go to clubs.
Tyler was standing by the window holding back the white curtain edge with a finger. Of course, he looked good. He just wore the same grey t-shirt and changed into less casual shorts. That’s how easy it was for him. He looked fantastic. Not so easy for a woman. Not so easy for her at least. Everything she’d tried was wrong. And when she’d cycled through everything she brought, trying each outfit on and rejecting it, she started from the beginning again. Trying now to at least not look completely terrible.
“Hey, cab’s here, Jess.”
“Okay.” Her heart jumped. She checked her wallet in her purse again. Made sure she had lots of cash. ID in case they asked. It would be nice if they asked. She asked Tyler, “You have the key?”
“No,” he said, standing outside on the concrete walk in the golden light of the setting sun.
“Hold on,” she said, found it and dropped it in her purse.
She closed the door behind her, made sure it locked, and she shuffled quickly to catch up with him. He took her arm, walked her to the green and orange cab and helped her in.
“Boom-Chicka, please, in Clearwater,” she told the driver, a young black guy with a tweed country cap, and a toothpick in his mouth. He nodded and they were on their way.
It was only a twelve-minute drive but they’d be in no shape for driving home and they didn’t want to arrive there with their clothes damp from heat by walking. So she paid the guy fifteen dollars, tip included, and she got out of the cab with a brave face.
It was busy. There wasn’t a line up like she worried there would be. It was quiet in February and that meant that just the right amount of people arrived to keep the place full and thumping but not too many to have a line around the side. Some places she’d heard liked that line though because it was practically advertising to the people driving by.
This place didn’t need to advertise that it was where you wanted to be. You could tell by looking. The parking lot was full. Cramped, really. Valet was bustling. Nice cars too, no beaters that Jess could see. No minivans at all. The car that had been ahead of them in the cab was a Mercedes something and it was a Range Rover that pulled in behind them when they got out and stood at the doorway. The place looked like it may have been a warehouse at one time. A big block that got itself some sort of architectural makeover when it was re-purposed. It had been given a very stylish coat of Florida stucco, pure white but now, at night time, the place was being blasted with a pulsing, vibrant, hot pink light. The name, Boom-Chicka, was written and re-written with finesse by a laser light. Drawing out the name with great orange energy that pumped and pulsed with the deafening, thunderous dance music.
Tyler helped her up the three short steps to the front doors in glas
s and steel. There were two big bouncers there in suits. Guys that looked bigger than Tyler but you wouldn’t necessarily describe as in-shape. They checked ID and it gave her a thrill, hoped they’d see her age and appreciate how she was holding up. Guy didn’t acknowledge it in any way, just gave it back to her and nodded with his head for them both to go in.
The place was beautiful inside. Sort of what she imagined a Florida club would look like. Purple and pink neon lights hidden under formed shapes that traced the curving edges of the bar and planters filled with yucca. Corners were softened with potted palms in brass cauldrons. The people there were beautiful, they looked in place, like they belonged here. She hoped she looked like she belonged here, she didn’t feel like she did. Tyler was certainly turning heads.
“Let’s get a seat, Jess,” Tyler said into her ear.
Most of the crowd had gathered around the bars and were on the dance floor or hanging around the edges of it. The booths were all taken but there were two available tables.
They sat and talked, ordered some drinks. The music was loud but they could hear each other. By her second fifteen dollar cocktail, she was feeling a little better. She stopped thinking people were watching her and wondering why she was here. Now she wanted to dance.
She felt bold. She put her hand out to Tyler, led him to the dance floor. When she was out there she didn’t care about anything. She moved her body well. She could dance. She was great at it. Could have been professional if it weren’t for genetically weak tendons. She was good enough for this room that was for sure. When she moved out there she didn’t think about anything else. Her body loved to move like that. She pressed it against Tyler, slinked it under his hands for him, let him feel her ability. Her sinewy grace, her flexibility. She danced herself against him like she was a woman who was fucking him. Danced with him like she knew him carnally. It was the best thing she’d done with him when they were both clothed. They went on like that for hours. She had four more drinks. Tyler had more. She didn’t need to sit. She could do this all night. When she went to the bathroom she looked in the mirror and saw her fresh face. Gleaming with sweat and vibrant. Healthy. Happy. What had she been worried about?