Brad's Road Trip Ch. 08

"One of those places they eat Chinese food," her ever-enlightened brother had told me a few weeks ago when I called him to set this up. I remembered that conversation vividly, mostly because I'd just left a Thai restaurant when we talked.

We got through two more beers apiece, chatting about his life in South Carolina. At just 27, he owned a pretty successful local trucking company, but was starting to get bored. I told him about my plans back in Idaho, and filled him in on some of the details for the rest of my trip home. When 9 o'clock rolled around, I was feeling a lot better about my family, mainly because I was feeling no pain whatsoever.

"Hey, darlin'," Adam said, and I looked up to see the waitress standing by the table. She wasn't the one who'd been bringing our drinks all night.

"Hey, baby," she replied. "Can I bring you two more?"

"One more," Adam answered, pointing at me. "You're workin' the bar, right?"

"Yeah, sugar," she answered, "but I saw you sittin' over here and wanted to say hi." She leaned down and did just that, though it might have been easier to hear if her tongue hadn't been in his mouth when she said it.

"Well, then," he said when they finished. "I'll take mine at the bar. Be good, cousin Bradley. I'll be back... whenever." He waved his hand as if to say, it might be five minutes, it might be two hours, you understand. And I did.

It only took five or 10 minutes for someone worth looking at to walk in. A whole group of someones, to be exact.

There were five girls altogether, three of whom looked pretty damn hot, especially for a pool hall on a Wednesday night. There was one tall, statuesque blonde, one curvy redhead, and then my favorite, a gorgeous, petite brunette who still filled out her yellow T-shirt and tight Levis quite admirably. She looked vaguely familiar to me, but I couldn't place the connection. I was looking at her when her eyes found mine, and she quickly looked away. That happened a few more times over the next several minutes.

I waited patiently, and soon enough, she and her two hot friends began to draw a crowd. Most were swatted away immediately by the blonde, who was clearly the queen of the group. It wasn't as mean-spirited as what Beth had been doing last night, but it was just as firm. A lucky few were rewarded with a minute or two of conversation, but none were allowed to stick. That didn't stop every dude in the place from buying them drinks, though, and of course, they weren't going to turn them down.

The other two girls in the group would have been the hottest women in most bars, but on this particular night, their drop-dead gorgeous friends overshadowed them. One of them was a wallflower, a tall, lanky strawberry blonde who hadn't said two words since she'd come in. The other was a little more outgoing, a short, slightly chunky blonde with a cute face and a solid sense of humor. I'd overheard her cracking on the various guys who were hitting on her friends, and she'd caught me laughing once or twice.

I thought about approaching one of those other two --- as I said, they were attractive in their own right, and I tended to go for the girls who don't stand out in the crowd anyway. But as I was trying to figure out how to go about it, an opportunity fell in my lap.

Or more appropriately, it just about hit me in the crotch.

The redhead, brunette and funny blonde had started playing pool, and the blonde had a shot that required her to stand right in front of me. She didn't look behind her to make sure she had a clear shot, and her stick stopped about two inches short of my cock on her backstroke.

"That probably would have hurt a little," I said, and she turned quickly.

"Oh, wow," she said. "I didn't even look. How close did I get?"

"Close enough for me to be thankful you're not clumsy with a pool cue." She'd missed the shot, so she turned around to talk to me. "The view made it worth it, though."

She blushed, but not as deeply as I thought she would. "So quit complaining, then," she grinned. "I'm Tracy, and I'm drinking Bud Light. And lemme guess... you're Chuck."

I looked at the green Howl at the Moon T-shirt I had on. On the left side of my chest -- where the Nike logo would go if this was a polo shirt and I was a golf geek -- was Chuck's name. Not only was he my favorite pianist at the bar in San Antonio, he was so popular that they'd made and sold a T-shirt with his name on it. On the back were the words "Chuck Rhymes With... So You Wanna?" It was just one of the many catchphrases he used while performing.

"Sure," I replied, grinning. A different waitress walked by. "Could you get my friend Tracy here a Sam Adams? On my tab?" I ordered. The waitress nodded and walked away. Tracy looked at me curiously.

"So far, the only thing I don't like about you is your taste in beer," I told her. "Saw a chance to fix that."

Truthfully, I had no problem with Bud Light. I even drank it occasionally, but not when there was better beer available.

I'd had a dozen beers by now, and was drunk enough to not give a damn about being subtle. She played another game of pool, and I did the classic pool teacher schtick, sliding up behind her and "helping" her grip the pool cue. She was eating it up, too, thrusting her ass back into my hips. Before long, she was rubbing her ass against something else, too. All she did was look back at me and grin. I locked eyes with the brunette a few more times, but with her friend clearly interested in me, I decided not to push my luck.

A half hour later, Tracy had downed her share of beer, too, and was flirting just as openly with me as I was with her. Soon, though, the inevitable happened.

"Tracy, who's your friend?"

The tall blonde sauntered over to our side of the pool table. She was the sun in this particular solar system, and one of her planets had fallen out of orbit. Tracy, to her credit, didn't back down.

"Lyla, this is Chuck," she said, wrapping her arm around my waist. "He's been flirting with me, and I've been flirting back."

"Chuck, huh?" Lyla said, giving me the once-over. The shapely brunette walked over and stood just behind Lyla. We caught each other's eye again and grinned subtly. "You haven't been over there flirting with us tonight, Chuck. Why's that?"

"With that flyswatter routine you were throwing out?" I asked. "I'm a confident guy. Cocky, even. A borderline asshole, if the situation calls for it. But masochistic? Nah."

She smiled, as did both of her friends. The brunette's familiarity was really coming on strong now, but my brain was too foggy to care.

"Besides," I said, throwing my arm around Tracy's shoulders. "She kinda picked me. Or at least, her pool stick did."

Tracy told her friends the short story, and both of them were laughing by the time it was done.

"Lyla, leave her alone," the brunette said, placing a hand on my other arm. She was even sexier close up, and probably twice as drunk as I was. "Tracy's a big girl. It'll be fine."

The tall blonde considered the three of us for another moment, then smiled and walked away.

"Overprotective sister," Tracy said, shrugging as she walked back to the pool table. I immediately recognized the resemblance. If I weren't fairly drunk, I probably would have realized it sooner.

"Lyla's not a bitch," the brunette said, her hand leaving my arm and dropping down to my ass. She copped a quick feel before we sat down at the table. "She just wants everyone to think she is. We really just came out here to have a good time."

"Girl's night out, huh?" I asked. We watched Tracy hustle the other friend, the quiet, skinny strawberry blonde girl, out of $20.

"No, not really," she said. Once seated, her hand moved to my knee. I put mine on top of hers. "Any of us is free to leave with someone if we spot something we like." She licked her lips suggestively, but I kept the conversation on track.

"And Tracy isn't usually the one who spots something she likes, huh?" I asked.

"Oh, she does," the girl answered. "She just doesn't ever do anything about it."

"Well, I'm glad she did this time, even if she didn't mean to." I looked at the girl a little harder, trying like hell to place her, but I couldn't. Finally, I just gave up and decided to enjoy the view. "What about you?"

"Oh, I found something I like, too," she answered, pulling me a few feet away from the pool tables. It wasn't a dance club by any means, but they were playing music you could dance to. This particular song was Usher, and she and I started dancing.

"So, what's with you, hmm?" I asked. "We're making eyes at each other all night, but you don't come over for more than an hour?"

"You're the man," she laughed. "Do I look like I need to make the first move?"

She had a point, but I had an excuse. "I was flirting with your friend the whole time."

"Another reason I stayed away," she said. "But you want the real reason?"

I nodded, and she leaned in close to my ear.

"Alcohol," she whispered. "The more I drink, the wetter I get."

The forwardness of that comment shocked me, but not so much that I couldn't break into a huge grin. The song changed, but apparently the DJ was a big Usher fan, because it was two in a row. We spent a few more minutes grinding against each other before we were interrupted.

I can't say I'd forgotten about Tracy, but with this stunning brunette in front of me, she wasn't exactly front and center on my mind, either. I felt a tap on my shoulder, and turned to see Tracy standing next to us.

"Tracy," her friend said, beating me to the punch. "Sorry, I stole Chuck here for a minute."

I was worried about her reaction. I figured at least some of the guys she was interested in at these types of places chose one of the other three girls instead, and I didn't want her to think that was happening again. Truthfully, I was just really drunk, and was flirting and enjoying the brunette's company while Tracy played pool. I had every intentions of trying to score with Tracy when the time came, but I doubted it looked that way.

I didn't need to worry, which I realized when Tracy broke out a big grin. "That looks fun!" she said, and pulled both of us a little farther away from the pool tables and towards a small open area where there were a few other people dancing.

The music switched over to something by Nicky Minaj, and Tracy joined us. Usually the meat defines the sandwich, but this time, it was all about the bread. I was just happy to be stuck in the middle of these two very, very sexy women. Sometimes, the brunette pushed her fairly sizable chest up against my back while I thrusted my hips against Tracy's ass. Other times it was Tracy behind me while her friend and I ground our hips together. Neither girl was shy about my raging hard-on, and I could feel four very hard nipples pushing into my back.

Tracy even brushed up against her friend a few times, and while the other girl didn't return the favor, she didn't seem to mind. Finally, right before the song ended, Tracy made her friend the center of attention, rubbing against her back while she and I danced cheek-to-cheek.

As soon as the music stopped, the brunette just put it out there.

"It's time to go," she said. Shit, I thought. Tracy was certainly hot, but this girl was one of the sexiest women I'd seen on this road trip. She wasn't quite at Becky's level, but was tied for second with Belinda and Stacy. I was torn, but I had to make the right decision. The only decision.

I broke away from her and put my arms around Tracy's waist.

"I'm sorry, but I've already got plans," I said, kissing the blonde behind the left ear. She shuddered briefly.

The brunette looked disappointed, and slightly shocked. She probably didn't get rejected all that often, and I could see why. Still, she smiled and nodded. "She's definitely worth it," she said, and started to turn.

"So is she," Tracy said. "I'm willing to share, maybe..."

The girls locked eyes, and for a moment, I wasn't in the conversation. They broke into huge smiles, and both turned toward me. I didn't have to ask.

"My car is at my hotel, just a few blocks down from here," I said.

"I'll drive," Tracy said, which was good, because neither her friend or I were in any shape to do it. Truthfully, Tracy probably wasn't either, but it was a short trip.

Suddenly, and thankfully, I remembered Adam.

"I need to go say bye to someone," I said. "I'll meet you outside in a minute, I promise."

"We need to get our stuff too," Tracy said. Her friend had already walked back toward the pool tables to do just that. "See you in a second."

I spun toward the bar, but saw no sign of Adam. I muscled my way up to the bar, but didn't see the waitress he'd left with, either.

"You know where Adam Presley is?" I asked when I caught the bartender's eye.

"Is that Monica's boyfriend?"

"Monica's a waitress here?" I put both hands in front of my chest, in the universal sign for "with big tits?" The bartender nodded. "That's probably her then."

He leaned up close. "They're in the back. Don't want to be disturbed."

I grinned. "When they get done, tell him his cousin Brad found something like that, too, and I'm on my way back to my hotel."

"Will do," the bartender said. I pushed my way back toward the pool tables. I threw a few twenties on the table to cover my tab, and started toward the door.

"Have fun," I heard the redhead say. She, Lyla and the other strawberry blonde were smiling at me, and I tossed them a little wave as I backed out the door.

A car honked as soon as I got outside, and I stumbled my way to a blue Chevy Malibu. Tracy was driving, and her friend was in the back seat, so I hopped in the passenger seat.

The ride to the hotel was short. I ran my hands up and down Tracy's thighs while she drove, and we kissed a few times when she was stopped at lights. The brunette ran her hands all over my chest and arms, and I snaked an arm into the back seat to rub her legs, as well.

I was staying at a Days Inn, and the rooms opened up into the parking lot. So about 20 seconds after Tracy parked the car, we were in my room. The brunette and I immediately shared our first kiss, a long, slow, deep, passionate tangle that made our tongues feel like they'd just run a marathon.

"You know," I said to her when we decided to breathe, "I never got your name."

"Who cares?" Tracy shouted, right before tackling me onto the bed. The brunette fell down on my other side, and I took turns going back and forth between them. First, I'd be on top of Tracy, feverishly making out with her and rubbing her pussy through her shorts while her friend watched, then I'd pull her friend on top of me and run my hands up and down her back and over her ass while Tracy played with herself.

Tracy started working on my shorts, tugging them to my ankles along with my boxer shorts. I was rubbing her friend's breasts through her shirt and playing a spirited game of tonsil hockey with her when I felt Tracy's mouth engulf my cock.

I moaned into the brunette's mouth, and had to do my best not to cum right then and there. My exploits of the past few days had been plentiful, but still, I'd been revving up for the past hour and a half, and I'd never cum after Kelly's relentless teasing on the drive in. That I didn't spontaneously combust in Tracy's mouth was a minor miracle.

I managed to hold off, though, and watched as Tracy's friend slowly undressed. I pinched Tracy's nipples through her shirt as she bobbed up and down, and when I looked back, the girl was mostly naked, lying on the king-sized bed in just her blue lace panties.

"Play with yourself," I said. "I wanna watch."

She did as I asked, slipping two fingers under the waistband and onto her pussy. She started by just rubbing her clit, but then pushed her fingers south into her pubic hair. When she slipped one finger inside herself, her eyes rolled back in her head and she moaned.

Meanwhile, Tracy was getting me closer and closer. I was sure I was going to come a few times before this was over, but I didn't want the first one to be in her mouth.

"Ok, ok," I said, gripping Tracy's hair and gently pulling her up and off my cock. "That feels amazing, but you girls have been killing me for like an hour. I want to fuck. Now."

I looked at Tracy, figuring since she'd found me first at the bar, she had first dibs. She surprised me.

"She can go first," she said. "She's been out of the country for three months. Been a while since she had some good 'ol American dick."

In retrospect, that should have been when the warning bells erupted in my head. Between the alcohol, the twin beauties in front of me, and the blood flow problem Robin Williams so eloquently described, though, I thought nothing of it.

"That's ok with me," I said, and pulled the girl to the foot of the bed by her legs. She rolled onto her hands and knees, and Tracy pulled her panties over her ass, leaving them bunched around her thighs.

"My favorite," the girl said. "Like she said, it's been a while. Want this first one to go quick."

I was ready to give her a personal record. I stood up, and after Tracy licked up and down my shaft a few more times, I placed my hands on the brunette's ass and lined myself up to sink into her in one thrust. Right before my hips moved forward, though, someone began an artillery assault on the hotel room door.

"Brad!" Adam shouted. "Bradley Carver! Open this fucking door!"

"Adam?!" I exclaimed, but it took a few seconds to realize I wasn't the only one who'd said it. The brunette girl had rolled onto her back, and we locked eyes.

That's when I finally placed her face. I hadn't seen her in 15 years, hadn't heard her voice in 13. But damnit, I knew it was her.

"Under the covers," Tracy said, and her friend quickly did what she said. Tracy put her shirt and shorts back on and tossed me my boxers. Adam pounded on the door some more. "Hold your damned horses, Presley," she shouted, watching me put my boxers on with amusement.

"Tracy?" he asked, not shouting now. She pulled open the door.

"You know you're interrupting something, right?" Tracy asked.

"Thank fucking God I am," he said, bursting into the room. He looked at the girl under the covers on the bed, me standing in front of the TV in just my boxers with a raging hard-on, and Tracy standing right in front of him, with a flushed face and nipples poking through her shirt.

"You didn't," he simply said, looking back and forth between me and the girl on the bed.

"No," she and I both replied in unison.

"Wait," Tracy said. "I'm your ex-girlfriend, and she's your sister." She pointed a finger at me. "How do you know Chuck?"

"Who the fuck is Chuck?" Adam asked, collapsing into a chair next to the window.

"His name isn't Chuck," the girl said from the bed. "His name is Brad. He's my second cousin."

Tracy's eyes widened into giant saucers. "Holy shit!" she shouted. "How the fuck did that happen?"

"How the fuck did you not know it was her, dude?" Adam yelled, launching the Days Inn stationery at me. It hit me square in the chest.

"Moved when I was eight, dude," I said. "Hadn't seen so much as a picture since then. Hadn't talked to her besides e-mails since we were both 10."

"All night you looked familiar," Amber said. "That's why I kept looking."

"You looked familiar to me, too," I said. "That's not why I kept looking, though. I had other reasons."

Tracy at least laughed. "And here I thought you were into me."

"I am," I said. "God made more than one hot woman."

"She's your cousin, dude," Adam said. "Quit sayin' she's hot."

"Dude, cousin or not, she's hot," I said. "I'm gonna avoid the obvious South Carolina incest joke here, since you probably have three shotguns in your truck. But fuck, man. You ain't blind."

He nodded slightly.