My name is Alistair, and back in May of 2002 I tagged along with my buddy Darren as he headed for a bar on the Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica. On the way he received a phone call from a friend, a guy we called Dan-Dan, and as Dan-Dan spoke on the other end, Daren turned off of Santa Monica Blvd. and pointed his Camaro towards the Main Street drag. “Change of plans.” He rolled his head towards me and smiled. “Dan-Dan and Scottie have something lined up for us at Main.”
I’ve never been comfortable hitting on chicks, but having come out of a three year relationship put me way behind in my game. Fortunately Dan-Dan and Scottie had that part all taken care of, or so they said. The two of them found four chicks who suited their ten-to-ten rule and were now looking for a headcount to match. Their rule stipulated that up to ten-o-clock they’d only sick their charms on chicks scoring a ten, but at eleven they’d start shopping for nines, and at twelve, eights, and so on until they were too drunk to care anymore. I don’t know if the rule was created for fun or if they truly adhered to it, but seeing that it was only nine-thirty, and that meant ‘tens’ were supposedly waiting for us, I was highly skeptical.
They hadn’t lied!
Of the four chicks I was immediately taken by this girl named Kelly, only she held Scottie’s hand and pinched his right thumb knuckle, explaining how it happened to be one of her favorite erogenous zones. Scottie let her know she was crazy, and I guess to prove she wasn’t, she slipped his thumb between her lips and sucked it like a little girl. It was absolutely one of the hottest things I’d ever seen, and left Scottie smiling like a goofball. I admit being pretty envious of the fucker.
Things between the rest of us guys and gals were still undecided––at least in terms of who was getting who––and so we talked and drank as a big group for the next hour.
Main was a romantically lit club, but it’s cluttered with a maze of vertical grey bars, almost forming jail cells, and large sections of the walls were painted in black and brown lacquer, making the place feel overwhelmingly masculine––then there was Kelly in the middle of it all, the softest pillow of relief and difficult to pull my eyes from. The other three girls were exceptionally pretty, but Kelly was something else. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail, which exposed the entirety of her face, and showcased her smooth tan skin with its near satin sheen. A few undone buttons on her fuzzy sweater, and just barely enough chest to provide cleavage, meant another thing I had trouble staring at.
Her eyebrows characterized her best, they were a shade darker than her sandy blonde hair and sympathetically angled, making her expression seem kind and friendly, which she very much was, even to the point of being a huge flirt. Was I growing even more envious of Scottie? Fuck yeah!
The club continued to fill up, forcing everyone to forget about the concept of personal space. Then from out of nowhere Scottie threw an arm around me and pulled me near enough to speak straight in my ear. “You going to bang any of these chicks or what?”
He had a way of forcing the issue, so I let him know I was probably going to pass. They were all cute, but I just wasn’t clicking with them. Instead of giving me the how-lame-are-you-speech I know he felt I deserved, he massaged my shoulders and smiled big. “Dude, is it cool if I go in for the kill?”
“Sure, but what happened to Kelly, it looked like you were in there?”
“She dropped the boyfriend bomb. Fuck’n little tease just now got around to mentioning him. I knew that bitch was too good to be true.”
I quickly made my way to Kelly, grabbed her thumb, and said over the music, “I heard this is one of the most erogenous areas of the body.” She laughed, hiding her face in her other hand. She was super easy to talk to, and before I knew it we’d spent over an hour going back and forth on everything.
Scottie came by and shoved two martinis between us. He was a bartender at T.G.I.Friday’s, and liked to introduce everyone to what he considered to be the best in cocktails. As we took the drinks, I noticed Kelly’s eyes appeared less than friendly for the first time that night, and I realized she was a bit peeved at Scottie for dropping her like a hot potato.
Scottie was reasonably charming and very self-assured––being about six-one and two hundred pounds––but he bordered on cocky, always pushing himself on women as if they didn’t really have a choice. Maybe things would have been different if he didn’t have the looks to get away with it, but he did––and the way he’d so quickly riled Kelly up, led me to believe that a lame apology would turn her around equally as quick, and he’d still end up going home with her, boyfriend or not. Lucky for me he didn’t feel like apologizing.
The martini happened to be Grande Mariner, VOX Vodka, and a twist of orange peel. It was big, good, and strong, and my recollection of the rest of the evening suffered some. It hit Kelly, too, and soon she was holding my arm tightly against her, and hugging a cheek to my shoulder. Initially the knowledge of her boyfriend made conversation easy––I couldn’t fuck up what could never be––but now she was this little sweet thing with these wide blue eyes, pleading for more and more of my attention as the night continued, and it killed me.
Scottie talked to her friend, who’d grown louder by the minute and obviously the drunkest of the bunch. Every time Kelly looked their way, I’d lose her––her pretty little forehead would bunch up and her soft eyebrows would sink. She finally insisted that her friend had too much to drink and Kelly couldn’t watch a guy like Scottie take total advantage of her. Before I could say anything, she pulled her friend from Scottie and took her glass. They started hugging as she pressed upon her friend that it was time to leave.
Scottie pulled her back, and a tense moment occurred where I had to call him aside and have a talk. He was pissed, and said something to the effect of, “So that Kelly chick’s got her panties in a twist because I deprived her of dick, and now she’s going to cock-block¬¬ her friend?”
I tried to explain it wasn’t that, and he momentarily gave in, saying, “Fuck it! Take her home. I don’t need this shit!”
Kelly and I took that opportunity to get her friend into a Taxi and drive her home. On the way Kelly told her what an asshole Scottie was, and that she would’ve totally regretted it in the morning. She was too drunk to understand and yelled back, and I thought for sure the cab driver was going to drop us at the nearest corner. When we reached her apartment I walked them to the door and Kelly saw her inside. Kelly and I then went to Kelly’s place and my heart danced when I found myself being invited in.
In her living room I discovered a Britney Spears CD and held it up. “Are you sure you’re twenty-three?” She grabbed it from me and insisted she only bought it for one song. I’d forgotten all about her previously mentioned boyfriend and apparently she did too, because we made our way into the bedroom where I laid eyes her gorilla collection for the first time––about twenty stuffed animal gorillas on shelves and at either side of her vanity mirror.
“You’re positive you’re not twelve?”
She laughed. “You tell me.” She then gave me a big kiss and I was totally convinced.
We cleared four more gorillas off the bed and continued to make out for about a half hour. It had been a long time since I’d taken the time to kiss a girl and explore her body through her clothes. So nice! I finally made my big move and slipped my hand down her unfastened jeans, quickly hitting pay dirt and getting a sweet moan from her sexy little mouth. She stopped me, took off my shirt, I removed hers, then our pants came off just as quick, and––well I was floored.
From head to toe her body was tantalizingly tight, but her curves remained smooth and feminine, resembling some drill team girl who loved to be flung into the air and caught. I’d later learn she’d been a figure skater in her teens, so I wasn’t too far off.
Soon she leaned her hands on my chest as she rode me like a jockey rides race horse, seeming determined to work up a sweat. I moved on top and drove smooth and fast through several positions, like I had my hands on some high performance car with a chassis and engine to handle everything. I listened for the rise and fall of her soft purring as I thrust away at different speeds, and she let me know when she came and I knew it was for real. We finally passed out around three, with only a sheet covering us and her in my arms.
In the morning she got a phone call, then slipped on a nighty and left me in the bedroom, putting her finger to her lips and telling me to be quiet as she shut the door. It turned out to be the infamous boyfriend, and she spent twenty minutes breaking up with him as I lay naked in her bed. When she came back her eyes were wet and her lashes formed little black stars.
It was an incredibly awkward situation, but she offered to make coffee before I left. As we waited for it to brew she let me know I didn’t need to feel bad about anything, because her and her boyfriend had agreed to see other people. In fact, it had been his idea.
She again started crying as she repeated portions of their phone call. He hated that she was still friends with several of her old boyfriends, in his eyes she’d do anything to get attention, and maybe if her daddy spoiled her with love instead of things, she wouldn’t have to go seeking approval by throwing herself at every good looking guy she saw. I did my best to console her, saying that everyone craves attention so you could pretty much deliver that speech to anyone. He was clearly being an asshole.
She’d known what ‘seeing other people’ actually meant as soon as he’d suggested it¬¬––a chicken-shit way of driving a wedge between them. The coward needed her to fool around so he could blame her for breaking them apart and not feel like the big jerk. Well, she gave him that much.
I offered her a hug and she came into my arms. “Am I pretty?”
“You’re beautiful.”
“Be totally honest, please?”
“Seriously, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever been out with.”
“You don’t know how bad I need to hear that,” she said, squeezing me tighter. “Because I feel really ugly right now.”
“The guy will totally regret this for the rest of his life. I guarantee it!”
“Well,” she began, sounding very flattered, and then releasing her hold some, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I kind of slept with you so this would happen––for him to break up with me. And he won’t admit it, but this is exactly what he wanted to happen.” Her forehead then bunched up in frustration, as she took a deep breath, “No, that’s actually not true. I’m not that much of a huge bitch. I mean, there’s a reason it was you and not just some guy. You’re super cute, and you’re really sweet! It sucks because I do care about you.” She laughed, her eyes becoming happy crescents and squeezing out more tears. “If only you were my boyfriend and not my revenge fuck.”
If only…
***
She was a complete mess for the next couple of weeks. Despite the fact her boyfriend pretty much pushed her into cheating on him, their mutual friends still blamed her and a lot of nasty things were said as a result. Her closest friends and family viewed me as the ‘other guy’, which made it a real challenge to be anything more. But I had a mean crush on her and cheered her up on several miserable nights, and by the end of the third week our feelings towards one another had grown too strong to care what anyone else thought.
Over dinner at the Cheesecake Factory, she confessed, “I know we barely know each other, but you don’t treat me like a spoiled brat. Or, I don’t know, you’re just super secure with yourself, and you don’t try to put me in my place or act condescending the way guys always do. Just promise me you’ll leave when you’re ready too, and not pull a Jeff. I don’t ever want to go through that again.” I smiled back at her from across the table and promised, but added that I don’t ever intend to leave. I couldn’t believe someone as beautiful as Kelly had said that to me, and if anyone told me she’d eventually become my wife, I would’ve surely called them crazy.
Shortly after, Darren, Dan-Dan, and Scottie grabbed me for an early morning soccer game. I hadn’t seen Scottie since the evening I’d met Kelly, and as we stretched on the grass I apologized for getting between him and Kelly’s friend. He was actually cool with it, and said that going home with a chick that drunk would’ve earned him a lap full of puke. He motioned with his hands like he was driving some chick’s head onto his dick, and made a vomit sound.
“Nasty,” Darren shouted.
I then mentioned I’d been dating Kelly, and both Darren and Dan-Dan gave me a thumbs-up, saying she was totally fine. Scottie on the other hand, gave her the thumbs-down. “Dude, she’s fine, but that type of chick will only break your heart.” Darren and Dan-Dan shut him up before he’d say anymore, but it left me wondering all day what he meant by ‘that type of chick’? A bitch? A flirt? A serious attention hound? It led me to even bigger questions, like would I really be any less jealous or fragile than her prior boyfriend, or had I made a promise to her that I couldn’t keep?
***
Kelly was not shy with her body, but that part I didn’t really mind. The first time I’d seen her flash titty was on rafting trip down the Colorado River with some of her friends. And as her vest opened and her bikini top came off, exposing her pink little nipples and firm ‘C’s to the still air, and as howls from her friends and even the guide echoed against the Mesozoic red rock walls, I was surprised to find myself brimming over with pride. So I learned that day, I could at least handle that much, in fact, it had been a bit of a turn on.
But the boldest I’ve seen her had to be an afternoon towards the end of our first summer together, as we swam in a fancy pool at the base of the Hollywood hills. The pool belonged to Dan-Dan’s uncle and he invited everyone over when his uncle left town. There were five guys and three girls. One of the three girls happened to be Scottie’s new squeeze, who was hot, but didn’t seem interested in much more than laying in the chaise lounge and drinking the melon balls Scottie concocted in the outdoor bar.
Kelly and her friend Beth were lying on this two person raft in the pool, while the guys went off the diving board in the deep end. The diving board action got a little out of control, and Kelly shouted out, “Which of you whales is making all the waves?” Dan-Dan had just gone off the diving board, so he swam to their raft and started to lift it at one end, threatening to tip them over. Looking sympathetically annoyed, but without opening her eyes to the strong sun, Kelly pleaded for him to stop.
“Gimmie one reason,” he responded, like some nine-year-old bully. Dan-Dan’s tall, about six-three, and although he had a naturally gangly frame, he and Scottie had been working out for at least two years, and he’d have no trouble tipping Kelly and her friend if he wished it.
Kelly then dropped the bomb. “If you promise not to tip us we’ll take off our tops.”
Beth wasn’t quite ready to go along with this, but fortunately for us she’d had enough melon balls that it only took a little enthusiastic noise for her to cave. Next thing I know, Dan-Dan’s setting their tops on the pool edge, and four, white, perky titties had joined our party. For close to a half-hour they floated that way, with Kelly taking a quick plunge into the pool just to cool off, and then scooted back up, her nipples hardened by the cold water.
Apparently all it takes is two semi-nude girls to bring out the childish pervert in any guy, because soon enough we were doing canon balls off the diving board and trying produce waves big enough to jiggle their tits. Dan-Dan sent a big one, making the raft roll and momentarily cause their boobs to boogie nicely. We whooped at our success, and the girls, not being fools to our game, were laughing as they lay there soaking up the rays and the attention of five crazy guys.
I don’t remember how it happened, but Darren ended up going off the diving board without his trunks on. This turned into a nude flip contest between all the guys, which was a pretty good indicator as to how drunk we were. It was like we were in grade school again, and we almost forgot about the women. Bill quickly set the record at two and a half flips. The crazy fuckers were doing double bounces to pull this off, too. I had never seen a double bounce before, which required someone else to land on the board at the precise moment the person jumping took their last step, the additional weight providing twice the launching power. Bill was the lightest of the bunch, probably one-fifty, and that meant getting the most air. Part of the fun was getting so high you could see into the front yard, meaning anyone walking by could see you, and the whole getting ‘busted’ aspect made it feel like tryouts for Jackass.
Drunk, naked, and out of control, the gang then wanted to launch Kelly, just to see how high we could get her. The idea of her bouncing topless on the board gave me an instant hard-on and I stayed quiet in the water hoping it would go away. Kelly slid off the raft and swam towards me. She’d noticed I’d turned silent, and wondered if she’d crossed a line. I decided what-the-hell, and let her know the truth, moving her hand to my erection. She smiled mischievously, giving it a squeeze. “You wanna a real show, baby?”
She kissed me and swam over to the diving board, then walked out on it, still topless and looking like a centerfold in the evening sun. The guys called a foul because she still had her bikini bottoms on, and this was a nude flip contest. It took a few minutes and a chorus of, “Show us the goods,” before she conceded and slid her bottoms to her ankles, lifting one foot out, and then kicking them towards me with the other. So my girlfriend’s neatly-trimmed, dirty-blonde bush was exposed to all my friends and Bill, who I’d just met that day.
Scottie had volunteered to be the bouncer, and stood on the side railings just past the board mounts, while Kelly backed up against him, preparing to run forward and jump. Scottie’s dick was fucking big, like six inches soft and no telling how many inches hard, and that meat was right at the back of Kelly’s head. He was slightly squatted for balance, with his hands on her shoulders for extra support until she needed to run forward.
“Wait––turn around for a sec.”
It sounded as if something was wrong, so Kelly quickly turned her head, coming within an inch of Scottie’s swaying dick.
“Asshole,” she shouted, and slugged him in his leg so hard that he almost fell.
He apologized to me, saying he couldn’t resist.
Kelly then ran, and for his part he executed the double bounce perfectly. Scottie being something like two hundred meant the mere one-twenty-five pound Kelly shot into the sky about twenty feet. No flips were attempted, because she, nor anyone else, expected her to shoot up quite that high. Every yard on the block was privy to her weightless naked tits and beautiful ass. A scary moment occurred when it looked as if she might reach the shallow end, but she regained control and managed a nice jack knife in the middle of the pool, leaving a tall neat splash behind.
Kelly’s ‘show’ left me harder than a WWI helmet full of cement, but Scottie’s girlfriend didn’t seem to share my appreciation. She asked Scottie to go inside with her, where there’d no doubt be a fight waiting for him. We all got dressed, and then Scottie’s girlfriend came back to get her bag of clothes and junk, and the two of them disappeared for the rest of the evening. Oh well.