Brad's Road Trip Ch. 01bySpotInTheSand©
If you'd told me I'd have phone sex with the woman of my dreams on the day I met her, I'd have thought you were nuts.
If you'd told me I'd fall in love with her before even meeting her, I'd have simply laughed at you.
If you'd told me I'd have sex with more than 20 women in the three weeks between talking to her for the first time and actually meeting her - all with her blessing - well, then I might have been speechless.
Then I would have laughed at you and called you nuts.
I guess that's why we're not usually informed of the unbelievable things that are going to happen to us before they actually occur. They're just that - unbelievable - before they happen.
Oddly enough, this whole thing happened because of perhaps the most innocent thing you could ever imagine.
It was a simple phone call to my mother.
I did this every now and again - call my mom at work in the middle of the day. No Oedipus complex or anything; I'm just very much a momma's boy, and since the Marine Corps had stopped dipping its bucket into my well three days ago, I didn't have a lot to do. I figured giving my mom a call would be as good a way as any to kill five minutes.
After all, I was sure she would welcome any break from ensuring that the specialized taco flippers of the world were properly compensated for their single-digit IQ efforts.
Only, my mom didn't answer the phone at the Taco Bell office building, and neither did Betsy, the middle-aged woman who worked down the hall from her. Instead, someone new answered.
"Taco Bell offices, this is Kelly, how can I help you?"
The voice instantly stunned me. I opened my mouth, closed it, opened it again, croaked out something that didn't even remotely resemble English, and then coughed.
"Hello?" the voice said again.
This time I cleared my throat, so as not to sound like a moron again.
"Hi. Sorry, didn't expect anyone to answer the phone that fast, and my mouth was full." It was a blatant lie, and she probably knew it. This wouldn't be my last conversation with her, but it would be the last lie I told her.
"It's okay. What can I do for you?"
The voice struck me again, but this time I was prepared for it. I didn't think she was trying to sound sultry, but it was working either way. She could have been an operator on one of those sex lines - yeah, I know, most of those are men using voice changers, but still - because her voice sounded that good. No hint of an accent, so I guessed she was a native.
"It's Kelly, right?" I said, hoping to get myself back on solid ground.
"Yeah. Who is this?"
"Hi, Kelly. I'm Brad Carver."
"Related to Linda somehow, I'm guessing?
"That I am. Is she around?"
I was a bit surprised someone besides my mom or Betsy answered the phone.
"Actually, she's in a meeting right now. I can take a message for her, though."
"Are you a new person they just hired over there?"
"No, actually I'm an assistant manager at one of the stores. I was just in the office to pick up some things, but the whole staff - Linda, Betsy, Ron, everyone - they all went into a meeting. I'm off today so they asked me to watch the phone."
"Ah. Lucky you," I replied. "Well, I'm Linda's son. Was really just calling to say hi for a few minutes. I'm kind of like you - I'm off today and I'm bored."
"Well, I was going to take a message for her, but you can keep talking to me until they're done. It shouldn't be too long now."
Nice. A come-on, maybe?
"Sounds like a plan."
"So, Brad, you know what I do. What do you do to be off today?"
"I'm - actually, you're sitting at my mom's desk, right?"
Even just one word, a simple "Yeah," was stirring something within me. This woman sounded smoking hot - yes, I know, that meant she was probably hovering around the 400-pound mark and would probably stop a rhino dead in his tracks with a glance, especially if she worked at Taco Bell. Still, there was a chance she looked as good as she sounded, and if she looked even half that good, she'd be gorgeous. So I figured I would see what I could do. After all, I'd be home in a few weeks, and I had nothing immediately lined up as far as.. physical arrangements went.
"Turn around and look on top of the large bookcase behind the desk."
I knew my mom kept a picture of me back there. And not just any picture - the picture from boot camp, when I was wearing Marine Corps Dress Blues. I had yet to meet a woman who saw that picture and didn't start drooling.
"Is that you?"
"Yeah, that's me in the uniform."
"That's all I can really say. Wow."
I was in, at least from a physical standpoint. Good to know.
"I've gotten a bit bigger since then, in all the right areas, and I've grown a mustache and a goatee as well."
"I thought you couldn't have those in the Marine Corps."
"Mustaches yes, goatees no. But I've been on terminal leave for four days now, and I've decided I'm not shaving around my mouth ever again. I swear, I could get shot in the heart and not lose as much blood as I have from razor cuts over the last four years."
That got a laugh out of her, and I couldn't help but notice how sexy she sounded when she was laughing. Once again, I know - voice and face seldom match.
"What's this terminal leave you said you were on?"
"We get 30 days of paid vacation a year. My contract is up in early July, and before I get out, I have to either take all my unused leave, or they pay me for it. But with all the extra allowances I get for being in my chosen job field, it's better financially to just take the leave. So I've been pretty much out for four days now."
"Are you coming back?" Was that a hint of hope I heard?
"Yes, I'll be back in a few weeks. I leave here Thursday morning."
"It takes you that long to drive from.. where are you anyway?"
"San Antonio, Texas. And no, it doesn't. I'm making quite a few stops along the way."
"Like where?" I'd gotten in a few of my destinations before I heard some noise in the background, and I could clearly hear my mom's voice and also Ron, the operational director of the offices.
"Sounds like they're done," I said when I finished telling her about Sumter, South Carolina, and how I was going to visit family there.
"Yeah, they just let out. Let me get your mom," she said, and I tried to get her attention, but the phone dropped before I could get a word out. A few seconds later my mom picked up.
"Hey, mom. Sounds like a busy afternoon."
We chatted for a few moments, but I kept tabs on the background voices. I heard Kelly and Ron talking, and then I heard Kelly telling my mom to tell me to have a safe trip. I wasn't quite done with her, though.
"Mom, can you get Kelly back on the phone for a second?"
"Well, I was telling her about my trip, and I told her I was going to Pittsburgh. She said she'd been there, and I was going to ask her about some spots to hang out when you guys came out of the meeting."
I tried not to lie to my mother, either, but it seemed like a better idea than the truth right then - "Mom, I'm trying to fuck one of your store managers when I get home, but she gave you the phone before I could close the deal." In this case, what she didn't know would definitely not hurt her.
"Ok." She told Kelly I wanted to talk to her, and I heard her say "Me?" before picking up the phone.
"Hi. I heard you telling my mom to tell me something, but there's no reason you can't tell me yourself."
"Well, yeah. I was just telling her to tell you to drive safely and have a nice trip."
"Heh, well, I'd planned on doing that anyway, but I'll definitely try even harder for you."
We shared a chuckle, and then the moment got awkward. I figured she might try to hand me back off to my mom so I went ahead and said my piece.
"Listen, Kelly. I really liked talking to you, for the five minutes we got. I'd like to meet you when I get back to town. What do you think?"
I figured, hell, worst-case scenario, she laughs and gives me back to my mom and I never see her again. Best case - at least I thought it was best case at the time - I had a date in a few weeks.
It just so happened that this was my lucky day, one of the many I would have over the next few weeks.
"I'd like that," she replied, and then she did me one better. "But I don't want to wait that long."
I wasn't sure I wanted to, either, but with a bunch of concert and game tickets purchased and several hotel rooms reserved, I couldn't back out.
Before I could form something coherent, she read my mind. "I'm going to give you my cell number," she said. "Give me a call sometime while you're on the road."
Nice. Didn't even have to ask, although I would have had she not volunteered. "How 'bout I do even better than that?" I asked when I finished scribbling her number in my notebook.
"What do you mean?" she replied.
"What are you doing tonight?"
Even as I sat at the table and listened to Chuck, Jerry, Adrian & Co. murder the latest hard rock hit with their dueling pianos, there was one feeling in particular that crept up on me and threatened to take over.
It wasn't excitement, though under the circumstances I guess it could have been.
It wasn't worry, though with an uncertain future and a few financial hurdles left to clear, it probably should have been.
Hell, it wasn't even horniness, despite the hot Puerto Rican waitress who had practically been begging Russ, Chad and I to take her home from the moment we walked in.
No. I was tired.
Five years in the Marines had drained me almost completely, and the few ounces of energy I had left were being diverted to the drawing breath department. It was Wednesday night, and between packing, the moving company and trying to tie up loose ends before I left, I hadn't slept since Sunday, and even then just an hour or two.
I'd spent more time in the gym earlier today than I'd slept in the past week.
Yep, the sleep monster was coming, and it wasn't stopping till it rendered me comatose. I wasn't arguing - I had a seven-hour drive tomorrow, and trying it without sleep would be pretty stupid at best. I would have probably passed out on our table if Chuck hadn't picked that moment to tell the whole bar my story.
"You know," the bald, slightly chunky black man said from behind the black baby grand piano, "we here at Howl At The Moon appreciate everyone who walks through the door. But we especially appreciate our regulars. The guys and gals - and assorted others - that come in here night after night and listen to us and have a good time. We thank all of you for not having lives."
That drew a laugh, even from me, but Chuck was far from finished.
"But there's one guy here tonight who outdates even me. This man has been coming in here since before any of us up here on stage even worked here. Three and a half years, ladies and gents.
"But now, after five years of working his ass off for the United States Marines-"
That of course, drew cheers. I was silently plotting ways to kill Russ and Chad for selling me out.
"-this guy is leaving the Alamo City tomorrow morning, and we want to send him out in a way that we reserve for only our most loyal customers. So Brad, you already know what's coming. Get up here."
Everyone applauded, but I felt like complete shit. Getting up on stage and singing "I Touch Myself" in an octave that would challenge Mariah Carey was not on my to-do list. But I was on the spot now, and I had to come through.
I climbed up on stage and grabbed the mic.
"All right. Before we start, I'd like to say that I've been through hell in the past week, and I'm not really feeling up to this. But, you know, it is Chuck asking."
I turned toward him and continued.
"And over the past 3-plus years, I've probably tipped 'ol Chuck enough to put at least two of his illegitimate kids through college, if not all three. So, what's one more favor for a friend, right?"
Chuck laughed and began hammering the keys. Despite my oncoming exhaustion, I did as I was told and put on a pretty dang good show. I kept my voice as high as possible and did all the hand movements I thought were necessary. I basically compiled a greatest hits collection from all the guys and girls I'd seen do this over the years. Toward the end of the song, I walked up to where Chuck was playing, cupped my crotch and rubbed the back of my hand against his shoulder right as I hit the final "I touch myself." He laughed it off, while most of the bar patrons shouted and cheered. A couple even tossed $1 bills at the stage.
When I got done, everyone cheered. Over the next two hours, I didn't have to pay for a beer - and beer was about all that was keeping me awake. I was in one of those sleep-deprived hazes, where things are just kind of happening around you and you're almost semi-conscious. I'd lost Chad and Russ shortly after my singing performance - I was just sitting at the bar now, letting people come up to me, kiss me on the cheek or shake my hand depending on sexual orientation, and give me beer.
Sometime around closing time - I think - either Russ or Chad put a hand on my shoulder and told me it was time to go. I offered no arguments - I had to be on the road around 7 a.m. that morning, or right around five hours from then. I chugged the rest of the beer in front of me, threw a $20 on the bar for a tip, and stumbled out of the bar after them.
The hot Puerto Rican waitress was hanging all over Chad, and there were two other girls walking with us, too. I knew I would have absolutely no energy to mess around when we got home - one of the other guys was just going to have to double-dip. I was sure neither of them would mind, and I figured it was a safe bet they'd be awake and still going at it when I woke up at six to shower for the first of many, many days of driving.
The car was designed to seat four, or maybe five if everyone in the back seat was small, but since there were six of us, someone had to sit on my lap on the way home. I didn't even care - as soon as my butt hit the seat, I was out. The girl on my lap could have started giving me head on the freeway and I'm not sure I'd have noticed. Maybe if she was really talented.
When I next opened my eyes, the car was stopped in front of what was about to be my old apartment building. The girl was still on my lap, and she grinned when I woke up.
"Up for a little fun?" she asked me in perfect English. In reality, it was probably slurred as all hell English, but since I was sloshed as all hell, my translating abilities matched up perfectly with her speaking ones.
This one was blonde, bubbly, well-built and probably about as dumb as the seat belt I had strapping me in. Such women were usually prime targets for sex, but like I said. Not happening tonight.
"I'd like to, but I can't," I said, and she frowned. "I'm exhausted, and I gotta drive in the morning. But I enjoyed the ride home, anyway."
She giggled. "As bad as the roads are around here, I basically just gave you a 20-minute lapdance, and I didn't even get your name."
"Brad Carver," I said and offered up a hand that might have been misinterpreted in the Castro District. I was so tired it just kinda hung there.
"I'm Kelly," she said, and I smiled feebly back at her. The name bounced around in my beer-soaked brain for a minute, though, and it finally swam through the Miller Light to the surface.
"Oh, shit," I said.
My mind immediately shifted back to the phone conversation I'd had that afternoon. I remembered how much I was looking forward to another one, and I instantly perked up.
"What?" the girl on my lap asked, confused.
"Nothing," I said, and opened the door next to me. No one else was in the car, and I didn't even hear any noises, so I guessed Russ and Chad had left this particular Kelly in the car to wake me up while taking the other two into the apartment.
She slinked off my lap, grinning toothily at me as she did. She even licked her lips, which I thought was a bit over the top considering I'd told her nothing was going to happen. I slid out of the car and shut the door and immediately headed for the apartment.
"You're certainly awake now, soldier," she said, and I cringed a little. Marines were Marines, Army guys were soldiers. Marines had nothing against the Army folks - for the most part, anyway - but we didn't like being called one.
"Actually, I'm not, hon," I said as I opened the door. Kelly gasped at what we saw - I might have been surprised except A) I'd seen it a handful of times and B) I expected something like this anyway.
Chad was on his knees next to the couch with the Puerto Rican chick bent over in front of him. Her skirt was still on, but her white lace panties were around her knees. Her ass could have been made of caramel - it certainly looked good enough to eat. Or at least melt and drizzle over some apples. I didn't know why I had these kinds of thoughts, but they made me laugh out loud. I wouldn't mind getting me a taste if I didn't have other things on my mind.
She was giggling as Chad buried his face in her pussy, but I knew she'd soon stop laughing and start moaning. Almost on cue, I could see Chad shift his tongue directly onto her clit, and she let out one of those long, low moans that went on for most of a minute.
Across the room, Russ was sitting on the edge of the dinner table, his pants and boxers just a memory as a redhead knelt in front of him, taking his cock about as far as she could down her throat. Russ wasn't that big - maybe five, six inches at most - but this girl still couldn't deep throat him. I chuckled at what she'd think when she saw Chad's dick or if she saw mine. I couldn't see anything but the redhead's back, but I thought I remembered a pretty hot redhead hanging around us when we first got to the bar. Knowing Russ, she was at least a little attractive - the man had been known to turn down naked women lying in his bed if they didn't meet his standards.
Russ grabbed the redhead's shoulders and started fucking her mouth, making Kelly gasp.
"Wow," she said.
"Ever done anything like this?" I asked her.
"I've never even seen anything like this," she replied. Her face was flushed - from the alcohol or just from being turned on, I'm not sure. Probably both. "Have you?"
"You've seen it?"
"I've done it."
She just looked at me, almost in awe, or so my drunk ass thought.
"Five or six times, at least."
She just gasped again and turned her head back to the action. Chad had the waitress bent over the couch now and was quickly pumping two fingers in and out of her pussy as he tongued her asshole. Chad's black fingers repeatedly pounding into the pink pussy surrounded by the mocha-colored skin made me think of dipping a chocolate bar in a cup of coffee. He was spanking her ass cheeks every so often with his left hand. I figured it wouldn't take long before that girl was adding another wet spot to the couch, and I knew it wouldn't be long till Chad was dipping an even longer and thicker chocolate bar in there.
The redhead had gotten off her knees and was now laying on the dinner table. She'd taken everything but her panties off, and Russ was straddling her chest. I saw now that she was rather well-endowed - a C cup at least, with probably somewhere around a 34 chest size. And she was pretty attractive, or so my beer goggles told me. Russ was slipping his cock in and out of her cleavage, making sure her red hair was lying everywhere as he did so. He grabbed her neck and held her face up so he could hit her lips with his cock every time he pushed forward.
Russ noticed us watching.
"You guys going to join us?" he asked without preamble.
I smiled. "Not me, man. I'm fucking beat."