There’s a little part of me that wants to change my mind as the road starts to get darker and smaller, more isolated. Not because I think he’s gonna hurt me. But because a little reminder of who I was before all this, before my dad got sick, has been dropped into my life. I have to remind myself that Nate isn’t a part of my world anymore. Him being around is an interlude. This is my reality now.
“Shall we get in the backseat?”
I nod and free myself from the seatbelt, following him out of the car.
The wind whips my face as soon as I open the door andI’m relieved again that I won’t be lying on the floor of the woods with my bare ass out tonight.
Any lingering effect of seeing Nate today dies as soon as I get closer to what’s gonna happen.Thisis what I need.Thismakes me forget. Not reliving old memories with childhood friends.Fuck that.
He gets a towel out of the trunk and drapes it over the backseat.
“Shall we just get straight to it?”
We kneel, facing each other as we unzip ourselves. I turn around as I pull my pants down and he awkwardly moves in behind me.
The contact of his bare thighs against mine sends a shiver down my spine and then his big clammy hands are on my hips, his breath loud and hot on the back of my neck. I don’t know if I’m disgusted or turned on. A bit of both, I guess. As always.
I hear him pop a tube.
“Condom,” I say.
“Of course,” he grumbles with a laugh. “I’m not gonna bareback some kid I found online in the back of my car, that’s just asking for trouble.”
Kid?
“I’m twenty.”
“Figure of speech. Ready?”
“Yeah.”
His fingers are warm and slick as he slides them between my cheeks. I close my eyes and try to relax. Think about the moment when he makes me forget. When my head will be so consumed with his cock in my ass, I won’t be able to think about anything else.
He presses against my back so I bend forward and slides his fingers deep insideme. I groan.
“That’s it,” he says, breathing heavy.
I don’t give a fuck what he thinks of me. That’s why I choose these guys. I’m never gonna see them again. If I do, they’ll be with their wives and be more ashamed than I am. Or they’ll be too shy to talk to me, knowing I’m too young for them. That it’s never gonna happen again.
I hear him put the condom on but still twist around to check.
He lines his cock up with my hole and starts edging in. I’m turned on enough now to relax and he gets halfway in and I start stroking my cock so I don’t lose my hard-on when he pushes all the way in the first time and I feel that initial sting.
He bottoms out andfuck. There it is. The memory eraser. No more feelings. Nothing. Just fireworks going off in my head. Steamed over windows. A stranger’s breath on my neck and his hands gripping against my hips as he fucks me into the backseat. I don’t listen to what he says. Some people are talkers, others are completely silent until they come. But I’m not thinking about him. I’m not thinking. That’s the point.
Sometimes they think they want you to respond, but they don’t. They’re not thinking about you either. You’re just a hole to fuck. A pound of flesh that feels good to stick their dick in. Nothing more. The second it’s over, you’ll be less than worthless to them.
He speeds up, grunts getting louder and less sporadic, his hands holding on tighter to my hips. I stroke myself faster, wanting to come before he finishes. They very rarely wanna touch you once they’ve finished. And blow jobs are awkward in the back of cars, even SUVs. I didn’t come here for a shitty hand job I could have done better myself.
His beard brushes the back of my neck, his warm breathon my skin as he mutters to himself. I pump my fist hard and fast around my dick until I feel myself coming. My muscles contracting around his cock. He starts spasming behind me, slapping my ass and calling out something I can’t catch and couldn’t give less of a shit about, because my world has gone still. I’m floating between reality and something else.
He snaps the condom off and zips up. When he opens his door, the night air rushes in and cools the sweat on my skin. I sit back and pull my pants back up, feeling the lube wet the seat of my boxers.
We sit in silence as he drives me back to where he picked me up. Putting the heaters back on to get the steam off the windows. Sweat drips down my arms from my pits and I watch his sweaty hands on the steering wheel as he drives. The wedding band glistening and the smell of sex in the air.
When he stops, he doesn’t look at me. I stopped existing to him the second he blew his load inside that condom.
I’m about to climb out of the car, when he tells me to wait.
