Kem Nunn - Tapping the Source

He was feeling fairly miserable by the time they headed up Hound’s street. Behind him, the two blondes had begun to bitch about somebody’s mother’s boyfriend. One of them had begun a rather lengthy story about how the guy tried to get a look at her when she was in the shower or something. She was talking in this very loud voice and Ike got the idea that it was partly for his benefit. The redhead looked at him once and rolled her eyes. Before they reached the house, though, the subject changed and they all started talking about some party they’d been to the night before. Seems some boys had invited them over for a party, except there wasn’t a party, just a bunch of horny guys sitting around waiting for some chicks to show up. “That’s all those guys do,” one of the girls said. “They just go down to the beach every day and tell a lot of girls there’s a big party at their place. Then when you get there, it’s just them, sitting around, trying to act cool.”

“And it’s not even their house,” someone said. “It’s just a summer rental. They’re from Santa Ana, or some dumb place, I heard them say.”

“And they never have any decent dope,” the redhead added.

Ike was getting a little nervous with this line of conversation. Suppose he got them home and they got scared, or pissed off? What would Hound have to say about that? Would he send him back after Michelle?

The house was dark when they got there. There were just a couple of candles lit in the living room and some music on the stereo, some of the punk sounds Ike heard around the Sea View but had not until now heard at Hound’s. The girls seemed to like the house, though. They could see it wasn’t just some summer rental. “You live here?” the redhead wanted to know. Ike said that he did. Hound and Samoans were not in sight. But the girls did not seem to mind. They didn’t even ask him about the party. The redhead sat on the couch and the other two started looking through the records.

Ike sat next to the redhead. His palms felt cold and damp. He was still having a hard time thinking of anything to say and he’d used the last of his joints. Then Hound came in. He looked much as he’d looked the night of his party, the night Ike met him. He was decked out in a pair of white cotton pants and one of his fancier Mexican shirts. He wore a necklace of beads and there were more beads on the front of his shirt. His hair looked straight and clean and was held in place with an Indian-looking headband. Ike introduced him as his brother. Hound smiled at the girls and seated himself on the floor. He produced a pipe and a match. He told Ike there were some beers in the kitchen. Ike went to get them, and by the time he got back the other two girls were seated on the floor with Hound and the pipe was making the rounds. Ike rejoined the redhead on the couch and started opening the beers.

The pipe was loaded with hash and soon everybody was pretty stoned. Ike was getting wasted in a hurry. He’d skipped dinner and now he was getting his share of hits off the pipe and pouring beer down fast to cool the burning in his throat. The two girls on the floor got up and started dancing and their bodies were like slender flames licking the walls. The redhead reached across Ike once in a while for the pipe or a beer, pressing her breasts against his arm, and pretty soon he was necking with her. At some point, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that one of the Samoans had showed up and had started dancing with the skinny blondes. He noticed, too, that Hound Adams had left the room. He’d already forgotten all the girls’ names. He’d even forgotten the redhead’s name, but he was feeling no pain at the present and the redhead’s top had somehow gotten down around her waist and she was grabbing at his cock, and nothing had ever happened exactly this fast for him before. It was like one minute they were just sitting there, and the next minute they were going after each other like mad and he had forgotten all about Michelle waiting for him at the Sea View apartments.

“Come on,” he said, whispering in the redhead’s ear. He took her by the hand and pulled her off the couch. She left her top on the cushions and followed him into one of the back rooms. It was the room he’d been in earlier that night. The couches were empty now. The girl sat down hard, pulling him with her, but he slipped away and knelt in front of her, began working her shorts down and over her red high-heeled shoes. And in one part of his mind he kept thinking how crazy it was, how a few weeks ago this whole scene would have been inconceivable. But here he was pulling down some girl’s pants without even knowing her name and he was going to fuck her, and he knew, with a rather faint twinge of guilt, that it was Michelle who had taught him how, who had given him the confidence necessary to make this thing work. But there was really not time to think of all that at the moment. It was enough just to know that the two things, what happened with Michelle and whatever this was, were not the same and had nothing to do with each other.

He was back on the couch beside the girl now, his hand between her legs. She was hot and wet, working her ass around on the couch, pushing herself against his fingers, pushing her tongue into his mouth and moaning all at the same time. It was like everything was moving at once, the room in motion around him, hot, dark, panting. A slice of moonlight broke through the window and touched her breast, cutting across the nipple. And then he was aware of the hand on his shoulder. He would later try to remember just how it had happened. For a moment he thought the hand belonged to the girl, but then he knew it did not. He straightened a bit on the couch, the girl still twisting and moaning beside him. He jerked as he saw it was one of the Samoans who had touched him. The man was naked, standing just behind him, on the other side of the couch, then he was moving around it, kneeling on the floor near the girl. He was smiling. Later Ike would remember the whiteness of his teeth in the dark room. It was a confusing moment. He did not even know the Samoan’s name. He watched the muscles flexing in the man’s chest as he seemed to glide in front of them, to sit on the couch on the other side of the girl. The girl now seemed to be waking up to what was going on. The Samoan pulled her toward him so that her body was twisted, the upper half turned toward him, the lower toward Ike.

To Ike’s surprise, the girl did not resist but let the Samoan kiss her. She seemed, in fact, to grow even more excited. Ike’s fingers were still inside her and she was still moving on them, harder than before. Then the Samoan was moving again, this time moving the girl as well. Still no word had passed between them, but the man seemed to know just what he wanted. He managed to get the girl on her knees in front of Ike and his hand was on the girl’s neck, pushing her toward Ike’s cock. Ike’s fingers slipped out of her, drying quickly in the dark room. He felt her take him into her mouth and nothing had ever been quite this crazy. It was like his body was on fire, moving on its own, and he could think of nothing else. And then, suddenly, the room was not dark at all, but there was some kind of white strobe light going. Flashes of light pierced his eyes and exited at the base of his skull. And when it was bright, you could see everything. It was like daylight, like one of those electrical storms he had witnessed in the desert. And when it was light, he could see the Samoan only a few feet away from him, fucking the girl from the back, moving behind her in a slow rhythm, his face a mask. And the girl, her red hair flying, going after Ike’s cock until that was the only part of him that was alive and he was going to come and that was all that mattered. He took the sides of her face in his hands, pushing himself into her. And when he came it was like it was from so far inside of himself that his eyeballs ached and his head buzzed. There was a moment when he guessed the buzzing was all in his head, and that was followed by another moment when he knew it was not, that it was coming from somewhere in the room. And then he saw the girl.