Previously, on A Young American…
To start at the beginning, go here.
Since I was in dire “need” of doing some work, I applied at a factory job. Turns out that was the only step necessary and they told me I started later that day, so I went home to change into more work appropriate clothing. I ran home and in the elevator was surprise, surprise, Tiffany.
“Hey.” I said, pushing the second floor button and watching the doors close. She was dressed in a long sleeve brown shirt with three buttons at the top, two of them undone, not that I could see any cleavage anyway.
“Hey, how are you?” She looked up at me, smiled, and then went back to texting.
“Pretty good, just about to go to my first day of work.”
“Hey, if they’re hiring let me know.” She laughed.
“I’ll feel the place out; let you know.” Smooth. The elevator went from G to 1.
“So, listen.” I said, scratching my arm, “sorry about the other day.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it.” She laughed, “It was pretty funny. Most of the time when I meet guys I try to picture them naked, but with you I didn’t need any help.” She flipped her hair when turning toward me, but it just fell back over one of her hypnotic eyes.
“Well, glad to be of service.” I said as the elevator made an abrupt stop at 2, almost like it was letting me know my time was up. I stepped off and we separated. It wasn’t until I walked into the bathroom that I saw how red my face was in the mirror.
I blushed when she made that comment. I don’t think I’d ever blushed in my entire life. What is this woman doing to me, I thought. I got those sudden pains one gets in his gut when his dream girl walks past him in the hallway. That feeling always made me feel like taking a shit. No time, though. I quickly changed my pants and bolted to work.
When I arrived, it took me awhile to find the right door to enter. There were several and some were locked. I came across one that looked like a factory inside, so I buzzed in. A short blonde woman with safety glasses came out. “Are you the new guy?”
“No, I was actually just wondering where the nearest gas station is.” I joked. She stared at me through those glasses and expected me to take her seriously.
“Hell of a way to make a first impression. Come on.” I could tell this woman was a huge bitch. She was pretty attractive, though. And she had a bust that was bigger than she was. As soon as I stepped inside the noise of the machines whirring was unbearable. Luckily there were earplugs right to my left. I grabbed a pair and followed the dwarf into the break room, where all was quiet.
“Have a seat.” She said. We sat down and she handed me some papers to sign, before describing exactly what I would be doing. “So basically whenever we get some parts that are broken in some way we set those boxes aside, and your job is to check the boxes and take out any sprayers that are broken. Sometimes it will be a physical issue, where you just check the outside, but sometimes they won’t spray for some reason, and you’ll have to check that out.”
She ignored me. “Here’s a sheet describing all the parts that go into a sprayer. You’ll want to memorize those by the end of the week. Now come on, and I’ll give you the tour.” I scanned the paper as she showed me the bathroom, the workspace, the machines, etc. We concluded our tour at the bench where I would be for my shift.
“You’re going to be doing this for about a month!” she yelled, “Then you’ll move on to taking one of these machines, and making sure product gets out on time!” I nodded and sat down. The box sitting on the table had a sheet with a bag of the damaged sprayer I was looking for. It was shoot myself boring, but the good thing was that I could put my mind and body on autopilot. When my brain went into autopilot I found myself thinking about the strangest things.
It was like playing six degrees to Kevin Bacon, but without knowing where the six degrees were going. Somehow my brain had gone from thinking about Andrew Jackson to the song Ironic in just enough time for my first break. Breaks were organized with a bell, reminding me of my high school days, only here I could step outside for a smoke. I went out the side and saw the smoking area. It was filled with almost everyone from the floor. I walked past them to the parking lot and watched the sun set while puffing on my cigarette.
“Hey knew guy, are you too good for us?” I turned around and sitting on the bench was a kid, probably 23 and most likely this was the only job he’d ever known or had. His eyes looked dented in, and he was as skinny as a crack addict or a juggalo, both of which were high possibilities. I looked at him and chuckled. He stared at me smacking his gum with an enormous smile on his face.
“Something like that.” I said. He laughed and turned back to his friends to continue talking about who had the best spittoon. His name was Luke. I put my cigarette out at the sound of the gong and went back to autopilot. My first day concluded at 11 and I went home. I let Buddy out of his cage and we went for a walk and a smoke. My life quickly became about as routine as it possibly could. Wake up at ten, walk and smoke, eat, go to work at one, get home at 11, eat, walk and smoke, asleep by two.
Eventually the inevitable came and Martha arrived to pick up Buddy. She chose that very morning to stay for a cup of coffee. “Where’s your worser half?” I asked, brewing some up. She leaned her ass against the counter.
“And what, pray tell, does he do?” I asked, putting my ass right up next to hers and folding my arms. She smiled at me. A mother’s smile.
“Same as you. Not the same factory of course, but he’s putting the cogs in the wheels.”
“Ah, I see. Art thou the housewife?”
“Yes.” I said without hesitation. She giggled. A lover’s giggle. She looked at the clock, finding a distraction.
“Shouldn’t you be leaving soon?”
“I got another hour.” I didn’t even check the time. She looked at me and then at my lips. She blinked rapidly.
“Listen, about last time…”
“I don’t wanna talk about last time.” Her green egg eyes stared up at me.
“I kinda do.” She looked back down at her foot and began swirling the tip of it on the tile. “I’m not a cheater.” Oh here we go. “It’s just that I saw the way you looked at me when you were at the door. That’s not a look I get very often. I guess it kinda came over me. It was just a rush. A one time thing, okay?” She looked back up to me. I looked back at her. I must’ve looked at her in that magical way again, because she found herself glancing at my lips once more. I shrugged.
“A friend of mine once said the thing he admired most about me was that I didn’t give a shit. Not in the sense that I don’t care about one’s feelings. To be honest I don’t really know what he meant. My speculation, however, is that I don’t push and I don’t pull. I follow the Bukowski motto: Don’t try. I do what comes easy. What’s easy is what’s worth it. If this isn’t easy for you, then It’s not easy for me, and…well…how’s my math on that?” She smiled.
“That depends on who you read.” Coy as hell. I walked her to the door. When I opened it I felt the urge. She must’ve felt it too, because she paused in her tracks. I went for it. I leaned in and put my lips to hers, reeling myself back so I didn’t seem so forceful. Her lips remained sealed momentarily, before opening up to allow my serpent tongue inside. Her arms glided up and around my neck. Her head cocked to the side and I kicked the door shut, spinning her around and pressing her against it. I heard a slight, muffled moan as I pressed myself against her. Lifting her up and carrying her to the bedroom I shut the door behind us.
As we fell to the bed I kissed her neck. She looked around the room, noticing my stereo. “Turn on some music.” She whispered unnecessarily. I was in the groove and didn’t want any last minute doubt to ruin it, but to fight it would most certainly mean a quick death to the mood. I stood and walked to the stereo.
“Not really.” I heard clothing move in an unnatural fashion behind me. I played my own personal saxophone soundtrack.
“I’m a bit of a sax addict.” I turned around to see her hair once again covering her eye while her head hung low, hands behind her back and unclamping her bra.
“Talk about cheesy.”
“Never said I was a writer.” You Belong to the City faded in with all its glory as I returned to the bed. Her breasts hung slightly low, but she looked amazing leaning on her hands. Her legs spread to make room for me. I stood there and stared at her as she reached up and felt under my shirt. She must’ve been relieved to see I didn’t have that gut that her hubby had.
She used the other hand to undo my belt. She placed a hand on the outside of my pants and just felt it for what seemed like a long time. After this momentary calm, the storm started. She literally ripped my button off my jeans and pulled my pants down without unzipping me. Her hand grabbed the base and flicked it up, before shoving her mouth onto it.
She took all of me in no problem, and she was sloppy about it too. Her other hand trailed down as she began to play with herself while sucking me off. I put a hand on the back of her head, grabbing a tuft of that lovely red hair as the appropriate Maneater roared to life.
I started to laugh.
At first it was just a grin turned chuckle, but it soon became giggling, and snowballed. She stopped sucking and looked up. Her eyes were filled with rage. “I’m sorry.” I could barely say. I pointed at the stereo. She listened for a moment, taking my cock out of her mouth. It infected her, too. She covered her mouth while she laughed and I got softer in her hands. I sat on the bed next to her and we guffawed halfway through the song. I stood at the saxophone solo, pantsless and pulled her to her feet. We grooved 80s style with our combined full nudity and our respective parts bouncing in ways we couldn’t control.
When the song faded away our sides ached and our bodies lacked any erectness. She couldn’t look me in the face without smiling now. I forever fell into the No Sex Zone because of my childish reaction to a movie moment. We dressed ourselves and I once more walked her to the door. When it opened I leaned against it. “Well, thanks for the warm-up.” She giggled, thumb under her purse and looking at her feet.
“I was planning on walking out of here saying that I didn’t expect that to happen.” She looked back into my eyes with a longing, “I didn’t think I’d mean it.”
“What can I say? I’m full of surprises.” She came in close and kissed me one more time, long and slow. She smiled again.
“I like your philosophy.”
“I only live a life worth leading.” She left and I watched her walk down the hall. She didn’t look back. I shut the door and looked at the clock. Still thirty minutes before my shift, so I finished out the alternate ending to our bedroom adventure.