by Victoria Lowe
(5/23/01)

"Yeah, the long distance thing doesn't work." His words, whispered in the darkness of our motel room, had no effect.

He was some Navy guy I'd encountered in a dusty highway café. But I was sure that I had met him before. It was something that he said, or maybe it was the way he said it. I'd met him before, or someone like him. After spending the past six hours in conversation, I wanted more than just words.

His eyes were warm and bright against tanned skin, obscured by blonde hair that at times drifted over his eyes. I wondered what he thought of me, this black chick, unfettered, open, free to roam, talking to him about Henry Miller. I wondered what he thought of the overt gestures of my hands, the wild look in my eyes. I was drunk on my state of being, Route 66 in the middle of nowhere. And drunk on being alone, and drunk on him.

I leaned back into the cracked red leather seat of the restaurant booth and stretched my legs out beneath the table to touch his knees. Jason opened his thighs just a little, allowing my heels to rest on the seat cushion, nestled between his legs. He looked hard at me, blue eyes burrowing beneath my skin, blue eyes lit with the promise of thrills and chills. And maybe a little bondage thrown in.

I could see in his expression that he wanted a reason to get out. Not out of the navy, not out of the café, but out of himself...

...out of himself and into some trouble. I think I was the trouble he was looking to get into.

Jason relaxed in his seat and brushed a careless hand through his hair. A sly grin spread across his face.

I studied him, intently this time. He was cute out of that military uniform. An ivory cowboy hat hung on the arm of the chair. He picked it up and secured it on the back of his head. His hair stuck out in front of the hat and flopped over his forehead. Adorable.

I leaned forward across the table, looking past the tumble of hair to find his eyes. "What's the first thing you're gonna do when you get back on the ship?" I asked.

Jason sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face, wearily.

"Sleep," he answered with a smile. "I'll still be on leave when I get back, but I'll have to hide from my supervising officer. She'll put me to work if she sees me."

Jason reached out with cool fingertips and touched the bridge of my nose.

"I have to go," he said. "Unless somebody gives me a reason not to go back so early."

I shrugged and moved my face from beneath his hand. I loved to tease. I knew I was going to fuck him. I had decided this the first time he smiled, when I slid into the wide red seat at his table.

"Am I supposed to fall for that line?" I wondered aloud.

"Why not?" he said, grinning.

Yeah, I thought. Why not?

I got up and left the café. I stood for a moment under the blazing desert sun and donned my shades. Behind me, the screen door of the café squeaked and slammed shut. I walked to my car, catching an image of him in the metallic reflection of the fender. He stood on the broken lip of the café steps. His blue jeans and white shirt were clean, neat.

Not waiting for an invitation, he walked to the passenger side of my car and waited for me to open the door. He wanted it bad. Our eyes met over the roof of the car, and I smiled.

In silence, he undressed in the dim light of my motel room. I watched him, and cradled my battery-operated vibrator in my hands. Never leave home without it.

Jason unveiled a hard body, his flesh chiseled by a drill sergeant's commands. When he unbuttoned his jeans, I knew he was just my type. No underwear. I couldn't help but smile at this, as I rolled the lifelike phallus between my hands. Inspired, I slowly slid the dildo into my mouth, flicking my tongue over the ridged head. Jason moved toward me, his body glinting with pinpoints of sunlight that punched through the venetian blinds. He reminded me of a shark.

He was too hot for his own good.

As he waited before me, I extended my arm, touching the now slick tip of the plastic cock to the oval indentation of his naval.

"Stay there," I said.

I rubbed the cock over his taut belly and bounced it idly against his growing erection. He took a deep breath, curling his fingers in response. My fingers wrapped around his cock and pulled him closer. I licked the length of the rubber cock, and then leaned down and did the same to him. As my tongue moved over him, I played the dildo along his shaft, caressing the heavy swelling of his balls. Jason groaned softly, and his fingers now curled into fists.

I placed the plastic phallus aside and reclined on the bed.

"C'mon sailor," I invited, laughing to myself. I'd waited a long time to say something like that.

In a quick motion, Jason lifted my T-shirt and pulled it over my head. My breasts were like plump loaves of chocolate bread, not the perky tits of a centerfold, but soft and real. He massaged them with a delicacy that belied the look in his eyes. We kissed, his lips warm and hungry on mine.

His hands moved in teasing circles over my dark nipples as I unzipped my jeans. Jason watched as I wiggled free of them, and his mouth fell open. I smiled at his expression.

He crouched, using both hands to pull me to the edge of the bed. Without pause, he ducked between my thighs and ran his tongue over my clean shaven pussy. I moaned lightly and hiked my feet up to rest against the flat plane of his shoulder blades.

Jason flipped the switch on the vibrator and it purred to life in his hand. Using his tongue to part my naked lips, he slid the tip of the vibrator inside me. My eyes closed against the hot rush of pleasure. I was already lightheaded, but he was just getting started. He bent over me, flicking his tongue over my swollen clit, pushing the dildo in deeper. I arched back until my shoulders pressed against the mattress, my heels digging into his shoulders as he covered me with his mouth. His teeth raked gently over the budding pearl and he sucked it between his lips.

Jason rose, one hand still grasping the slick vibrator, still thrusting it inside me in rhythmic motion. His other hand moved to my chest, playing over the stiff peaks of my nipples. My breath caught like a gasoline flame in my lungs and I held it, concentrating on the delicious pounding inside my cunt.

The worn tip of the cock hit me deeper and deeper until I cried out, nearly drowning in waves of pleasure. I grabbed Jason's arm to stop him, not wanting to come too fast.

"Too much?" he asked.

I shook my head. No. I just wanted something else. Jason nodded and put the vibrator aside, covering my body, his weight pressing me into the bed. His skin was damp with the stifling humidity of the room and his own excitement. He rubbed against me, his nipples stroking mine.

"Let me put it in you," he moaned, sliding his tongue over my throat and chin, into my mouth.

Pushing him away so that he stood upright, I reached for the mint-flavored condom on the nightstand. If I was going to fuck him, some guy I barely knew, I wasn't going to be stupid about it. Placing the tip of the condom between my lips, I leaned forward and opened my mouth over his erect cock.

"Yes," he moaned.

I used my fingers to smooth the sheath down until it covered him, pausing to fondle the soft blonde fur at the base of his cock. Jason grasped my wrists and pinned them over my head as he fell against me. He must have been reading my mind, for it was exactly what I wanted him to do. Without hesitation, he drove his lubricated, rib-sheathed hardness into me.

I watched his face, captured by the way his hair fell into his eyes and stuck to his forehead in thin golden strands. His mouth opened and he groaned his pleasure.

And I felt it too, that tightness of rapture filling me almost painfully, until red and black splashes burst behind my closed eyelids. Tears stung my eyes and I lost track of everything but him, the sensation of his body, his cock pushing deeper. I lost his lips on my mouth, his hair brushing against my face, and the words he whispered into my ear. I had already drifted away, floating on the cloud of my own selfish pleasure.

Jason came quickly, spurting into the well of the condom. With effort, he held himself up with outstretched arms so he wouldn't collapse against me. He stroked my forehead with weak fingers. He was trembling, as if this encounter had taken everything he had to offer.

He rolled away from me and sprawled at my side. I dropped my heels against the metal rim of the bed frame and let my feet rest on the nubby carpet. We hadn't even taken the time to get all the way onto the bed.

I stared at the ceiling. The plaster was marred with cracks, like a network of roads leading nowhere. I heard Jason sigh, and felt his hand move over my skin to rest on my belly. I pushed away his hand and got to my feet. Grimy and sweaty, smelling of sex, I pulled on my clothes.

"I'm leaving," I said.

He sat up, casually, as if it had not occurred to him that he was naked, on a mussed bed at a nameless motel.

"What?" he asked. "Why? Where are you going?"

I liked the frantic lilt to his voice.

"Down the road," I answered with a smile. I had no plans. I packed my single bag quickly and, without a backward glance, grabbed the room key and walked out.

Jason caught up with me as I was getting into my car. He grabbed me around the waist and turned me to face him, kissing my forehead with gentle lips.

"I don't have to be back for a few days," he cajoled. "A ride would be fun."

"I didn't invite you," I said, pushing him back. I opened the door and tossed my bag in the car.

Insistently, Jason turned me around again, pressing me against the side of the car. His hair was disheveled, his clothing rumpled. He looked like he'd been through the wringer. He looked like I felt.

"I'm inviting myself," he said.

"It won't be my fault if you're late and your ship leaves without you."

"Trust me," he answered, "I'll get back."

He kissed my upturned mouth, his large hands gripping my ass. I wanted to twine myself around him. I wanted him again, and I could still taste the mint on my tongue. Jason released me and I sagged against the car.

"Here," I said, handing him the room key. I needed to get him out of my sight. I needed to think. "Go check me out."

He took the key and left me standing there amid my jumbled thoughts. I could leave right now and he would make his way back to his navy buddies. That would be easy. I chuckled at the thought and stretched out across the hood of my car, closing my eyes against the glaring sunlight.

"C'mon," I heard him say. I opened my eyes and sat upright.

"Okay," I said. It was decided, just like that. And we left.

"Yeah, I know," I said to him, in the darkness of a roadside motel some days later. It was the end of another highway, and time for him to leave.

Long distance relationships don't work. But somehow, I never seem to learn my lesson.

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