Here I was, in the huge backseat of a restored '57 Chevy Bel-Air with a woman whose name I couldn't remember; her mouth, tasting of whiskey and tobacco, kissing me, her callused, sure, hands slipping off my panties. My wide hips tipped up to let her, my mouth slack and open to her demanding slippery, tongue; my head tilted, eyes open, staring at the rivulets of rain streaking the fogged side window. Zippers of her leather jacket rasping on my breasts naked underneath my shaker knit sweater; leather seat slick underneath my bottom. My mind in another place; my body indifferently in here and now. How did I get here? Deciding to surprise my three-month new lover. Flying up to Baltimore. Seeing her leave her apartment with her arm around the waist of another woman. Crying in the taxi, telling the cabby to just drive, somewhere, anywhere. Going to the waterfront and staring out at the bay for hours. Thinking how I was twenty-three, feeling sixteen. Then, going to a bar, a dive of a place that a friend told me about. Knowing that showing up in a snug, off-the-shoulder hot magenta sweater and a frothy lace-edged denim mini that barely covered my rear and high-heeled open-toes was a screaming invitation. Brushing off nice girls, shy-smile girls, girls with manicures, girls with hopes and dreams in their eyes. Crossing my legs and smiling arrogantly at the worst girl, the one in sleeveless leather, with a James Dean sneer and orange-streaked punk haircut; watching her clear the pool table effortlessly with one stroke after another, until she finished, patted the loser on the ass and swaggered over to me. Small talk, hot talk, the kind that releases butterflies in stomachs. Sending her every goddamn signal that I could: Crossing and uncrossing my legs, keeping eye contact, hand touching her hand when she passed me the daiquiri she bought for me, playing with my hair – all the cues that I learned from magazines, movies, what all girls are born with, what women that I fell in love with teaching me. Until she leaned over and whispered huskily in my ear,
Toni: Let's go for a ride.
She opened the door of the bar for me, she opened the door of her car – I made noises about how cool her vintage blue and white Bel-Air was, and I saw in her eyes a new look, that I was more than a casual pick-up, that there was a person behind the body. The cold ice in me thought, Great, maybe she'll be a better fuck. She asked as I got in the front seat,
Toni: You know cars?
I replied casually,
Janet: My daddy collects them,
and shrugged in a way that said I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to say that my ineffectual Kentucky Colonel of a father mostly collected antique Dusenbergs and Cords – a lady doesn't name or money drop. She drove with one hand competently on the large steering wheel, one hand capably on my thigh. I put my hand on the back of her neck as if we were old lovers. She smoked and I didn't ask her not to; I wasn't going to ask her not to stop at anything. She had Patty Cline playing on the radio,
Toni: Tho' you try you can't conceal it, Love has brought us only storms, I can see your eyes revealin'...
It took more than I knew I had not to start crying again. We parked on a tree-lined road that overlooked the dark bay. Her hands pulled me to her; my hands went to her shoulders. My lips parted, an unambiguous come-and-get-me, her mouth got mine, her tongue a sweet invasion. I sighed and thought to myself, She knows how to kiss. A long, wanting kiss. The radio playing, the beginning patter of raindrops on the car's roof, the soft fricative sounds of our clothes, leather on wool, the denim of her tight jeans on the denim of my skirt; a background of notes, a soundtrack for lust. As her hands began to caress my breasts over my sweater, I broke off our kiss and gazed into her caramel brown eyes, and said evenly,
Janet: The back seat.
A drawn-out,
Toni: Okay baby.
We got out, the rain splattering on us, and as I went to the back door she ran to the trunk, popped it, and took out a wool blanket. She entered the car and slid over to my side, and there I was. My panties off, my skirt hiked up, and my thigh was thrown across hers. Her tongue swirled in my mouth, her hands riding up underneath my sweater, touching the underside of my breasts. My body replied in demiquavers, so slowly, as torpid as my heart. She wasn't a fool, her hands stopped, and her mouth left mine. She cocked her head and said lowly,
Toni: Something happened to you today?
Today...goddamn, I hated women with intuition. I shook my hair and said,
Janet: No.
Toni: You want to talk about it?
Goddamn, I hated being a lousy liar. I drawled,
Janet: Nothing to talk about.
Toni: You want me to hold you?
Kindness is the flame that draws you in, that consumes you. I whispered,
Janet: Yeah.
She pulled me close to her, wrapping the blanket around both of us, her arms hugging me. I put one arm around her shoulder and leaned my head against the curve of her neck. She held me silently while the rain outside echoed the rain I felt inside. Until both stopped falling and I kissed the side of her neck underneath her ear. She shifted and took my chin with her fingers, tipping up my face to hers. She kissed me. Sensually, slowly, fully. Her tongue questing with a silky touch. Taking her time, seducing my mouth. Capturing my bottom lip, sucking on it; hearing me cry softly in response. Silencing me with her tongue finding mine, sweeping over it.
A/N- Let me know if y'all want a part two.
Excuse mistakes
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