“I was not scared of Chucky.”
“That’s because your dad only let you watch PBS Kids till you were like fourteen.”
“I was eleven,” she protested. “And I had seen several Broadway shows and was allowed to watch classic movies.”
“Meaning westerns?”
“Did I have to watch Shane a ton of times? Yes, I did,” she laughed, “I saw The African Queen, too.”
“So, nothing made after like 1950?”
“I assume we’re not counting the American Pie movies I watched at Trixie’s house,” she said, “I did sneak around. You’re acting like I stayed sheltered.”
“You had to follow some strict rules.”
“Yeah, and I admit I was scared when I thought I might be pregnant.”
“I would’ve married you. You know that.”
“I wouldn’t have wanted you to marry me because of a baby, Drew,” she said. “That would be the worst thing, for me, to feel like I trapped you.”
“None of it was on purpose, and I would’ve been—well, apart from the fact that your dad might seriously have had me killed for getting you pregnant, I would’ve been happy for myself, because I had an excuse to keep you here. But the guilt was killing me—that I could have stolen your chances to go to a good school, travel and have an amazing life because I had carelessly got you pregnant.”
“Like you said, it wasn’t on purpose. I wouldn’t have blamed you. I was just terrified that I’d screwed up my whole life and my dad would hate me. I could just see us in some horrible, nasty rent house with rats and bugs with me waiting tables eight months pregnant and you trapped in a marriage to me—because he would’ve kicked me out and you would’ve felt like you had to marry me.”
“Which makes me furious because I know that if I fucked up, my dad would yell at me and tell me I was stupid, but he’d help me. He wouldn’t make me feel like a piece of shit or kick me out. I’m sorry that you were treated that way. It never would’ve made me feel trapped. And I don’t know why you thought we’d be living in the slums from, like, Oliver Twist.”
“I was dramatic and scared.”
“We weren’t ready to grow up yet.”
“Yeah,” she said, “and now we’re all grown up.”
“But we can act like we’re teenagers in this nice parked car.”
“I think we should. I mean, I brought you a cold lemonade on a hot day. Doesn’t that deserve a reward?” she laughed.
“I think so,” I said. Then I picked her up and she squealed. I set her down in the backseat and climbed in after her.
Laughing, we started kissing each other. I ran my hands up the outside of her thighs underneath her white sundress. I pulled her into my lap and loved the way the swell of her cleavage was right in front of my face. I buried my face in her breasts, kissing and licking. With a flick of my hand, the buttons down the front were unfastened and my mouth was on her nipple.
“Oh, I love that,” she said, arching her back to give me better access. She was rocking against me, eager, and I couldn’t resist her.
In an instant, she had the front of my jeans open and rose up on her knees. I slid my fingers between her legs, pulled her panties aside and fingered her. She was wet and ready for me. I guided my cock into her pulsing slit and groaned as she slid down the length of my shaft. We rocked and ground together, our rhythm flawless and fierce. Her white skirt was spread out over the place where we joined, her full breasts bouncing and the front of her dress unbuttoned. I played with her nipples, kissed her lips and neck. It was so hot, so sexy to have her riding me in the backseat of the Monte Carlo right here in my garage. I shut my eyes, imagining how we looked, as if I could look in a window and see a beautiful blond bouncing up and down in the lap of a very lucky auto mechanic. I slid my hand into her hair and kissed her mouth, sealing my lips against hers so I could swallow cries as she came with a ferocious grip as I drove into her deeply. I moaned into her mouth and my head went back when I gave in to the orgasm. She was grinning at me, pleased with herself, when I finally broke the kiss.
“That was amazing,” she said, “best lunch break ever.”
“We didn’t even have lunch.”
“This was better than lunch. This was exactly what I needed.”
“How did you and I go from months and months without having sex with anyone to having to be together twice a day?” I asked, smiling.
“We’re making up for lost time. And don’t rule out one more time today. I can’t promise I won’t miss you too much this afternoon… we may have to go to bed early tonight.”