We couldn’t afford to get married, we could barely even afford rubbers, but then, my boyfriend’s brother got a job…
I turned 21, and got the beers, since Colm was still 19, and Sean was already home, when I got there. He had his own room, since we moved to a 2 bedroom, but he layed out his school books on the kitchen table, with a clamshell on the counter.
“What’s this?” I put 5 of the beers in the fridge, and cracked one for myself.
“Skirt steak,” he didn’t even look up from his notes, “With mushrooms, and bearnaise.” And a dry salad, I pushed out of the way to spear a mushroom, and a slice of meat on a fork.
“Mh!” Chewed, and swallowed. “You made this?” Washed it down with a hit from the longneck.
He shrugged, wrote something down. “The sauce.”
“You’re going to have to show me how to make this!” You can’t buy it in a jar, I’ll bet. Maybe on the internet, I made a note to check later, but with something this rich to soak up the alcohol, I got the bottle out of the freezer, and cracked it. So, I could save 3, or 4 beers from my boyfriend.
His little brother, he was still in high school, and working weekends, at a fine resteraunt. Okay, as a dish washer, but they let him do a little prep, and he said the Saucier took him under her wing. Started teaching him the bases, like the mother sauces, and I don’t want to be mean, but you know what they say about trusting a skinny chef?
Well, Gail was the kinda chef you could trust, I’ll say that. Also a big old lesbo, but one of the nice ones? At least she never made me feel uncomfortable, she’s not like a bull-dagger, don’t let the tattoos fool you, but I don’t swing that way, and she never even asked.
“Huh!” He flipped the book shut, and got up. Grabbed a beer from the fridge, so I got out a shot glass, for the Bourbon. “Want a shot?”
“No,” he looked at the styrofoam plastic clamshell, and made a face.
“Not hungry?”
“Huh!’ He sat back, “Well, I just spent all day cleaning up other people’s leftover food, so no, not really.”
“It’s really good, expecially the sauce. I’m going to have to save some so your brother can taste it, you think you can show me how to make it?”
“Not unless we get a blender.” He shrugged, and set down his beer. Picking up his books, and tucking them in his old computer case.
Not for the first time, I looked at him, Sean, and marveled at how he was growing up. I mean, he looks the exact same way he did when I met him. Must be a couple years now since I moved in, but now he’s standing up, a little straighter. Speaking up a little louder, even to his older brother.
I guess since he started bringing home paychecks, instead of sleeping on the couch.
“UGH!” I set down the shot glass, quietly so he looked back. “Bourbon. Sure you wouldn’t like a shot?”
“I don’t really like Beamer.” He chucked his head over my shoulder. “I’ll take a rum, and coke, if we have any coke left.”
I checked the fridge, “Pepper.” Pulled a can out of the 12 pack.
“That’s fine.” Got out a dixie cup, and measured out a shot of Admiral Nelson on the bottom, by the handy line.
He took a sip, winced, then shook his head. “You trying to get me drunk?” With a grin.
“Too strong?”
“No, it’s fine.” He took his beer for a chaser, out to the living room. It’s not a Drawing Room, because it’s not like, that Mansion that I only really got to see once. Which isn’t to say that I was ever much of a gold digger, but one of the things I loved about his brother was that he was willing to give that all up. His trust fund, and inheritance, just to be with me.
Now, standing in the kitchen door, looking out at the old second hand sofa, the beat up coffee table from good will, and feeling the warmth spread from my burning throat, I had to admit that we’re doing pretty good.
Just the 3 of us, I got a scholarship, and a grant on grades alone. Almost valedictorian, but Amanda Bell beat me to it, and we’re always such rivals, back in high school. I guess you could call me an over-achiever, but now I could take a moment to stop, and smell the roses.
“Huh!” If she could see me now, through those coke bottle glasses, and those frumpy bangs hanging down. From her dorm room at Brown. I know, it’s Ivy League, but still. Brown University, she told everyone at student council when she got accepted, and made that face when I told her about my scholarship.
Okay, so Swarthmore isn’t Ivy League, but if I hadn’t gotten in, then I wouldn’t have wound up here. Met my boyfriend, and his little brother Sean. Sitting back on the couch, and not even touching the remote. Looking up at me with that charming smile, and his leg up over his knee. Off to one side, leaving plenty of room next to him to sit down.
His arm across the back, over my shoulders, and before I know it, I’m leaning over, kissing him.
“Huh!” He smiled. “What was that for?”
“Just being you. Making dinner, and being so smart. Taking a hint.” I kissed him again, and his hand slipped up my leg to my shirt. My bra cup through the stiff rough plastically uniform. It had a little cotton in it, but not enough that you could feel it. It’s what’s inside that counts, so I turned, and put my legs up across his lap. Unhooking my bra through the back of the blouse, and pulling them up together.
“Uh,” he looked at the VCR/DVD player, instead of the TV, still dark. Turned off, you might say.
“What?” I shook my head, and pulled his hands back up to my chest. Feeling down his arms, and up his biceps. “Huh!”
“Colm, he’s going to be home any minute.”
“So?” I giggled, “You know what he told me?” I leaned over, to his ear, and whispered. “It’s about time you stopped jacking off in your room, and lost your virginity.”
“To you?”
“What’s wrong with me?”
“You’re dating my brother.” Honestly, we hadn’t gone out in months, and that was for our aniversary, and I had to remind him to even do that.
“I know, but he’s into it.” I shrugged, “Ask me why, I don’t know, but he really wants to watch. Maybe we should wait until he gets home, before we go any further, but this way, it’ll be a surprise, so why don’t You kiss Me for once?”
“Huh!” He closed his eyes, and leaned in, puckered up, so I had to kiss him again, but. He’s not as good a kisser, and I really should stop comparing the 2, but just like all those gropes, and fumbled necking, in high school.
I guess it takes a while for boys to learn, how to do 2 things at the same time. Kiss, and feel you up, but he just held them, his fingers nowhere near my nipples, and I listened for the key in the door behind me, while our tongues played between our teeth.
“Smooch, how was that?” He lost his confidence, that easily, and looked down, with his cheeks warmed up, but at least he wasn’t crying, like a baby.
“Huh!” I felt one, hot in the palm of my hand. “You’ll learn.” He looked away, at the clock. Over the dead TV.
“He should be home by now.”
“Uh! So, he’s running late? As per usual, it’s not like he’s got a curfew, and he has to be home at a certain time.”
“Well,” finally, he pushed ma back. Feeling up to my shoulders, and kicking my legs off to straddle them. “I can’t wait any more. Huh!”
His belt clinked open, and I helped him with his zipper. Slipping my fingers in the fly to feel his harness, until he got the button open, then fishing it out through the flaps of his boxer-briefs.
“I always wanted to do this.” He pulled his underwear down, so it slipped back in, and bounced up when he tucked them under his balls.
Then, he grabbed my tits to squeeze them together, with nothing but a day’s bra sweat to hot-dog between them.
“Huh!” I grabbed his ass, and pulled it up, rooting around to catch the tip, lick it up to my nose, and pop it in my mouth with a practiced twist of my head.
“Oh,” he ran his fingers through my hair, then pulled out. “No, I want to fuck your tits.”
“Huh, let me get it wet first, Jesus. I never thought a guy would turn down a blowjob first, let me show you, slow down!”
“I’m sorry.”
“Huh!” I just rolled my eyes, and felt between my legs to hold it. Roll the skin back to wwirl my tongue around the salty head, and spat it out.
“What?”
“You really need to rinse it out better. Spt! It’s too soapy.”
“Well, is it wet enough?” He moved back, to grab a couple handfulls of my chest again.
“Huh! Hawkh! Spoot!” I nodded, smiling, and hearing a thunk in on the porch. His brother setting down something, and trying the door knob, to find it unlocked. Of course, i didn’t latch the knob, throw the bolt, let alone the chain when i got home, with my hands full, but by then Sean was too far gone to care.
Humping my tits so hard that his thighs slapped them together, the head appearing, and slipping back in the foreskin, just like his brothers. I’m no size queen, I never was, but.
“Sean, what the fuck?”
“Uh!” he stopped, and let go.
“Huh!” I let my head fall back, and arched my back, feeling his balls twitch against my sternum first, and for some reason remembering Xiphoid Process from vocabulary, back when I was taking Anatomy and Physiology senior year.
Then, I felt myself drifting away, my hand against the side of my head, and the hot gushes of boy juice, spattering my cheek, neck, shoulder, his knuckles brushing one of my breasts with his desperate pumping, and then, the saddest sound I’d ever heard in my whole entire life.
“How could you?” He sniffed, and ran off, carrying the fresh bottle of Jim Beam, I have no idea where he bought, being only 19, and all.
“Colm!” The door slammed, but he climbed off, trying to pull up his pants, and almost tripping over the coffee table on his way around it.
“Huh!” I just put my head up, my elbow down, and felt the hot sticky drops roll down my shoulder. Watching it unfold.
“I thought you wanted, Colm? Open up, come on, man.” He looked back. “You lied to me?”
I shrugged, “I don’t know. I thought he’d like the surprise, but I guessed wrong.”
Looks like I’m not going to get plowed tonight after all. At least I don’t have to go back out to the liquor store, but then it hit me.
I was just there, standing in the kitchen door, and looking proudly over what little life we managed to put together, and now I’ve probably thrown it all away, for what? A moment of drunk lustful weakness?
“Ugh!”
“I’m sorry, man. I’m so sorry.” Now Sean was sliding down, and starting to cry, heartbreakingly.
“Huh, grow some balls, man.” I grabbed my bear, and took it in the bathroom, for a shower.
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