Taking Her Against the Cavalier

She was wearing cherry red lip gloss and strawberry perfume. It was a summer night out on the road. I leaned against her Chevy Cavalier, trying to play it cool like any other twenty-two year old would. I was tempted to light a cigarette, but she was standing so close in front of me and I didn’t want to blow smoke in her pretty face.

She was twenty-three, at her last year of college, living at home with her parents, and she’d snuck out around midnight to meet me there by the baseball parks.

There was a soft, warm breeze, making the bottom of her red skirt dance against her thighs. I wanted to tug at it, but I kept my hands away politely, though all I could think about was the touch of her skin against mine.

I had a cigarette in between my lips, and I smiled at her.

She leaned forward and held my clammy hands.

Honestly, I was nervous as hell, ready to buckle to the pavement.

“How much trouble would you get in if your parents found out?” I asked her.

“They can’t ground me,” she said. “But they’d be angry.”

“They don’t like me,” I said.

She shook her head, but she was smiling. And that might’ve been what she liked about me, that they hated me.

She took the cigarette out of my mouth playfully and put it between her lips.

I laughed.

“You don’t even look like you know how to smoke that,” I told her.

“Oh well,” she smirked. She tossed the cigarette behind her.

“Hey,” I said loudly. It was my last cigarette. I was about to chase it when she grabbed my shirt and pulled my body against hers.

“I know something better you can put your lips on,” she said softly.

She leaned up, and I was too stunned to move.

Her lips barely touched mine, and I stopped breathing. She pressed them harder against my lips and closed them.

Finally I had enough courage to kiss her back, and without thinking I grabbed the sides of her face and pulled her close to me, tasting her cherry lip gloss as my tongue slid over her lips and into her mouth.

She wasn’t my girl. Not in front of others. She had a fiancé, a nice boy her parents were pushing her to marry. I wasn’t her man. We weren’t each other’s, but we wanted each other.

I slipped my hand up under the back of her skirt and squeezed. She jumped, coming closer to me and pushing me against the Cavalier.

“You’re bad,” she whispered.

I pulled her body so close to mine that I could feel her tingling skin. I loved hearing her short breaths and feeling them on my lips when I squeezed underneath her skirt again and ran my hands up and down her legs.

“Only for you,” I whispered back to her. “Only for you.”

And I was honest.

No other human soul on earth could make me do the things or make me feel the way she could. I grabbed her and spun her around, and then I pinned her in between me and the Cavalier, making the heat of our bodies mingle and combine.

She reached her hand down and felt me, making me groan against her, press harder against her. I returned the favor by slipping my hand down the front of her skirt, making her whimper and grab at my arm.

“We’ll never tell anyone will we?” I asked her in a harsh, quick voice.

“Never,” she answered as her eyes closed and my fingers moved upward against her.

And I was okay with that. We were okay with that. For now, anyway. And maybe it’d change, but she was what I wanted, and I gave her what she wanted, kissing her and taking her there against the Cavalier.