Sour Stomach

"I just don't want you to feel pressured..." Alan said to Lori. Her mom was waiting. Long drive from school. "I don't feel pressured," Lori smiled and kissed him.

The party was just slowing to a dead stop when Alan looked drunkenly over at Jessie.

She was lying back, her head against the pale stains on the wall. She saw Alan looking at her and this made her smile.

Alan knew that the ball was in his court, the question she'd asked was: "Where did you grow up, anyway?"

And the answer was delayed by copious amounts of beer and whiskey. Never mix the two. That's what the older people said. What Todd said. Todd had bought for all seven of them. And everyone was passed out or near it now.

Who ever had signed for the hotel room was gonna be in a lot of trouble too. Maybe it's cause kids under twenty-one can't hold their liquor that they're not allowed to drink. The smell was coming from the bathroom even with the door shut.

Alan crawled over to Jessie and collapsed on his stomach, next to her. He raised his eyebrows and said quietly, "I was born in Montana, but I grew up in Nebraska..."

"Nebraska?" She said with a smile. "Not so far away... are you graduated?"

"This summer," he confirmed with a smile all his own.

She pushed his bangs up and away from his eyes. Her fingers were sloppy, slowed by liquor. "So, Nebraska boy... do you have a girlfriend?"

Bad question. Alan had always prided himself on his honesty and what he deemed chivalry. Yes. Alan did have a girlfriend. Yes. Lori was her name. But she didn't like Todd or his strange parties. For his three months in the relationship, this was the first she'd let him go to. Special occasion. Mike was leaving for the Army in the morning. Mike had passed out half-after midnight. And it was coming on three am now.

"She pretty?" Jessie asked, seeing the hesitation in his eyes as she lit a cigarette with a stick match. She then held her pack out to him. Three left. "I smoke too much. You want one?"

"Yes and no." He slurred with what he thought a sly response. Jessie looked down at him with half-opened eyes. "Yes. Pretty. No. Cigarette?"

"Yes."

"Heard a rumor once. All there is to do in Nebraska is drink and fuck. That true?"

"Well if it is... I wouldn't know." He was sideways on the floor now, gazing up at her. Jessie was a blonde girl. Her face had a strong chin and a tiny nose. She wore overalls with an undershirt and this led Alan to muse if she liked her body or not. She had a smile on her lips that seemed to border on that of the bitch who one Scrabble for the third time.

"You don't fuck?" She said, looking him dead in the eye. He rolled his eyes upward at the direct question. He had no idea how to field this. Not only did he not fuck, he had never fucked. Waiting for the right girl.

Waiting for Lori. He inhaled deeply. The only thing working in his favor was that there were huge drunken lapses in the conversation.

"Haven't yet..." He said with a sly smile.

Her expression didn't bat an eye. Didn't indicate some sick victory. And for an instant, Alan could've sworn she was cold sober when she said: "Neither. Have. I."

He laughed an odd laugh. The sort burned by alcohol, and smothered by the need to not wake anyone. Then he pulled himself up to sit next to her.

"How's the virginity thing working out?" He mused, trying to keep the conversation going. It had been awhile since he'd been so drunk and for some reason sexual conversations were especially interesting when they took place at this time after so much fuel.

She smiled at her lap. And then she leaned her head into his shoulder. Felt nice. Her hair smelled nice. And he glanced down to watch her blow smoke at his lap.

For awhile, they sat just like that, in silence. They sat like that until she leaned forward and put her cigarette out in the ashtray. She then looked over her shoulder at him. Something mischievous there made him smile. It was the sort of smile that's born way down low that seems to touch every part of your insides on its way up to the mouth.

"How long have you been smoking?" He asked, feeling like he should say something. Even if it made no difference.

"Since I was thirteen." She said, turning to face him. He glanced over her attire. Overalls. The shirt beneath them was cut low, letting him eye her breasts. Which he'd done more than once through out the party.

"What are you now?" He smiled.

"College now." She said, moving closer. She straddled his lap, right there against the wall. Her hands settled into his shoulders, squeezing them gently.

"That's a long time to be smoking."

"I started smoking butts in my mom's ashtray..." She inhaled, cocking her head to look at his eyes. Her eyes were green.

"Tasty..." He said, bemused. "What are you doing?"

"Touching... is that okay?" She leaned forward, and he could smell the cigarette that had just passed her lips. "I can stop."

He stared at her. What was her story, anyway? Todd's friend? Mike's friend? When they'd been introduced earlier, that had been the case. Just some girl from St. Louis. Rubbing his shoulders. He liked the attention. So he said nothing. Let her continue. Let her do what she was doing, like that.

Her hands moved to his neck. She just kept watching him, her half-opened eyes waiting for him to stop her or waiting for him to encourage her. He was doing neither.

Jessie's fingers touched the back of his head, seeming to stroke each individual hair. He could feel his heart beating in his chest. The beat that's reserved for couches at mom's house, for parked cars, for those moments of sexual tension when there's the chance of going over the edge. Of going to far. Of doing too much.

And he'd always prided himself on his discipline.

She'd leaned in. She was all he could see and too lazy to bother looking around her. Her chest was heaving too. She was feeling the same thing. His eyes dropped to her heavy breasts. That pale skin sitting inside of that white shirt, beneath the blue overalls.

When he looked up at her, she closed her eyes. Her lips were slightly parted. He could make out her front teeth peeking out from behind her full upper-lip. And that's when he leaned forward some.

As his lips touched to hers, a siren blared in his head. He closed his eyes to shut it out. Her fat lips pressed to his, opening just enough for him to smooth his lips against them. He could taste Jack Daniel's and nicotine. And all he could do now was inhale through the nose to keep alive.

Her lips widened into the kiss and he let that happen too. Lori was probably home asleep. She had this teddy bear from when she was six. The thing had been loved to near death, the eyes hanging by a strand. And when she slept she wore only a long shirt that covered her to the thighs. He'd seen her only twice, ready for bed, and both times she'd been the most beautiful thing he'd ever beheld.

Her tongue pressed into his mouth. Was it the whiskey or was it the beer or was it that this girl just knew how to kiss? He raised his tongue to let her slip beneath him. Her arms went around his head and his arms laid limp at his sides.

"Want me to stop?" She said into the kiss with a smack.

Gordon. That teddy bear's name was Gordon.

He broke the kiss and looked at her. In her eyes, he could see the barest hint of a dare. Or was it an apology. Her arms hugged to his neck tightly, was she trapping him? She'd made it plain that she wouldn't continue if he said so. If he said so much as 'yes' or 'please stop' she'd listen. Roll off of his lap and likely pass out next to Mike or Todd.

And when her weight left, that response in his groin would fade and stop stabbing his jeans. How tight it was down there. Older people said that alcohol cause impotence in everything but women.

He didn't want her to stop. He wanted to put his hands on her breasts and squeeze them. Something about this girl. This girl from St. Louis seemed to beg for that. And she was choosing him. Not Mike. Not Todd. Alan. Alan was who she wanted.

But if he said she should continue... that meant Lori didn't matter. That he followed his hormones to whatever bridge they led to. And what did that make him?

So he chose not to say yes. He chose not to say no. He chose something else. He reached upward for the first. His fingers touched to the clasp on her overalls and she leaned her head upward, knowing what he was about to do and consenting.

He unclasped the right side. He unclasped the left side. And her overalls fell forward. She then leaned back further, the small of her back touched his legs. He parted them and looked down at her in the revealed shirt.

Jessie was leaning on her elbows, her ass sitting on his erection. "C'mon..." She said. "C'mon, huh?"

He slipped his legs from beneath her and crawled over her. As his lips touched to hers, he knew he was dictating the situation. He was now in control. His chest collapsed into hers. He felt her tits smear beneath him as he went on kissing her.

Served Lori right for not coming. He was too drunk anyway. Besides, what Lori didn't find out about wouldn't hurt her. He turned these thoughts over and over in his mind as he entertained the excuses, sought his refuge, and claimed this girl from St. Louis.

What a sexy name Jessie was anyway.

"Oh... Alan..." She half-moaned into the kiss.

His hands went upward, pinning her arms down. He raised up and looked at her. Her face was contorted with heat. He leaned down again and ran his lips over her neck. A kiss. A lick. A kiss. A lick. What Lori liked.

And then it was her earlobe. It was attached to her cheek. Not like Lori. And pierced. Not like Lori. His teeth caught on the stud and he toyed with that. He felt her shudder beneath her. Now he knew what she liked. And he wanted to continue. Wanted her to feel good like that.

So he stopped. Part of the fun was in the teasing.

He chose to go back down, over the neck. Kissing like he knew how. And then it was the edge of her tit. Right where the breast met the chest. Here he used his teeth. And he sucked lightly.

"Hey..." She said above a whisper. "Hey... let's move."

He looked up at her. He wasn't sure. If they stopped to move, would that break the spell? Would he become so guilt-ridden he couldn't look at her?

Maybe that's what he needed. A chance to think through what was happening. Maybe he could break away if they did. This might be his one chance -so he took it. He leaned away and nodded.

She pulled herself up, placing a hand on the bed for balance. It shook a little, but Mike stayed put. She looked down at him, her hair slightly frizzled from their fooling around. And she smiled her clever, drunken smile over her shoulder at him. Jessie, the girl from St. Louis, walked out of her overalls and around the bed, toward the bathroom.

Now was his chance to fold. He stood up to follow her. It's never easy walking when drunk. And an inexperienced drunk has more trouble it seems.

Alan fumbled his way to the bathroom, stepping over Todd. Once there, the smell of the puke on the floor reminded him that some people were in worse shape than others.

He swallowed, watching her barefoot touch to the cold tiles. The vomit was caked under the sink. Everyone too drunk to clean up. Too drunk to stop.

She was wearing boxer shorts. Red plaid. And her white shirt seemed slopped over them in laziness. She turned and placed her hands on the sink, looking at him. He stared at her breasts heaving beneath that loose-fitting shirt.

"Jessie..." He began.

She closed her eyes like she knew what was coming.

He walked closer. His heart was pounding at the idea of just being wrong. And she seemed to sense this because she took his hand and rubbed it with her long fingers. "Hey..." She said. "Hey."

Her hand brought his hand upward, forcing it to her breast. There, her fingers massaged his, forcing him to grip and ungrip that heft. And it was impressive. He continued squeezing long after she did... his free hand reached around her waist.

He lifted her shirt up in back, grazing it with the back of his hand. She gave a little moan as he administered his touch. Her drunken lips slopped against his and he kissed back greedily. And that's when he felt her hands go downward.

She was pressing his erection.

The pressure upward --near the head.

He shuddered against her kiss and bit against her with a rush of need. And that's when he felt his zipper tugged down.

Instinctively his hand rushed down to stop hers, dropping her breast. She gasped as he gripped her. And his own wrist brushed against his bobbing erection that was popping out of his underwear. His eyes went to hers.

They were half-opened slits.

He opened his lips to voice his protest, but she put a finger to his mouth. "Shhhhh..." She whispered. "Shhhh..."

And he released her hand.

Her cool fingers wrapped around the shaft, pulling it through the forward slot in his boxers. Her nails grazed his pubic hair.

Lori played with him. A hand job. He was half asleep as she played with him until orgasm. "When do we... do it for real?" He asked when she was finished. "We'll know when..." She'd mused. "Don't rush it... just don't rush it."

His lips touched to Jessie's shirt. He could feel she had no bra. He could feel that it was just the cotton before the nipple. And he used his teeth to coax her.

Her hand on his cock. Lightly tracing. Lightly getting him to swell up. He was already harder than he'd been in a long time. But he didn't tell her that. It kind of embarrassed him. What was it about Jessie? Why was it never so hard for Lori?

"Mmmm..." She breathed in his ear. "Big boy..."

He'd never fancied himself as "Big." But in that moment, with his lips on her shirt and her hand on his cock, he'd believe her. He believed it himself.

She lifted a leg upward and he felt her ankle on the back of her calf.

His lips had chewed a glorious wet spot, right over her nipple. He wondered casually if it were now possible to see her nipple through the wet cloth. A drinking wet T-shirt contest in the making.

She squeezed his dick and he felt his knees weaken. She pulled him closer with her other hand. And at this pace, he felt the tip of the erection touch to the underside of one of her boxer's legs. He felt himself slip between her thigh and the fabric.

"There's more to love than sex," Lori told him. "Love is... ice cream in the park. Holding hands in November. Love is you push me down the snow top in a sled..." And he'd agreed.

He felt Jessie's hard curls with the tip of his cock. And in that instant, she'd moaned. Where was it that a girl's clit was anyway? That close to her pubic hair? Or was she just encouraging him?

"Jessie," he said, drunkenly into her tit. "I can't fuck you... my girlfriend..."

She inhaled deeply as his head slipped between her wet lips, touching his cock... as Lori never had. "Just squat a little..." She panted. "Squat a little and move forward... all it takes..."

He leaned away from her shirt and held onto the sink behind her. "It's too late..." She breathed up at him. She leaned up and kissed him. Her kisses were gentle and sweet. Like Lori's kisses. They were drunken and tasted of smoke. Not like Lori.

"It's too late, Alan... fuck me..."

The head was pushing into the fabric, the shaft was slick with what had dripped on it. If it happened it happened. "Sorry, Lori... I was drunk..." Or something just as good.

He squatted backward and felt the head fall back just enough to touch her pussy at an angle. Jessie stared at him with half-opened eyes. They were glazed in lust and something more. Something he couldn't put a finger on. He ignored it and thrust forward.

She breathed in and cried out.

His cock was finally a cock. And her pussy was now a pussy. He felt something break inside of her and he moaned. The heat of the pussy, the stickiness. Everything was new. Down there, he felt her grip his cock. And he slid out, leaving only the head.

"So if we ever had kids, Alan..." Lori smiled. "What would you name them?" She'd asked on the beach one day.

"I don't know." Alan said.

"I like the name... Maxine."

"And if it's a boy?"

"Max," Lori said with that smile he loved.

He pushed in again and he felt Jessie's leg raise to rest around his ass. "That's it..." She breathed against him. "Come on..." He felt himself buried in this strange girl's cunt... as far back as he could go... only to withdraw. And move in again.

"Look at me..." Jessie grunted. Her hands wrung his cheeks as she went to kiss him again. He licked her mouth in response. His eyes opened for her to see. She was smiling at him. "What are you... thinking?"

Lori smiled as he approached. He broke the ice, "I saw you studying with..."

He slammed into her in response. And he saw this make her smile. She had him in body, but not in spirit. He hadn't said a word. He'd never said "yes," he'd never said, "take me... into your ugly pussy and let me kiss your nicotine stained lips." So it wasn't like cheating, was it? So he wouldn't satisfy her with a response.

"Beth?" Lori teased, eyebrows raised.

But she was getting something else she wanted.

"I saw you coming over here," Lori went on.

"Come inside me..." She moaned. "I want to feel it... burst in me... do it..."

"Listen... uhm, there is just no way for me to come over here under a pre-tense. You already know what I want to say, so I'll just uhm... say it... wanna go out?" Alan had took a chance. She knew it was going to happen. If she was so inexperienced, how did she know? He fucked her harder, working his come up from inside. Up to the tip. And then when it was about to bust, he inhaled that bathroom.

"You mean on a date?" Lori chimed.

The smell of the party.

"Yeah, a date," he smiled, attempting his charm.

"What are you thinking?" She moaned again.

Lori clicked her tongue, "You don't even know my name."

He burst inside of her.

"I'm Alan," he said.

The stain on the floor.

"Lori," she'd said for the first time.

"Yesss..." She hissed, his dick slipping from her boxers.

What a mess this party was.

It was going to be costly.

And it made him feel like he might throw up himself.