The Mother Road (22 page)

Exploding white hot pleasure races through me as I scream Porter’s name, unable to stop the moans coming from my mouth as I ride out my orgasm on Porter’s tongue. When the throbbing comes to a low roar, Porter pulls away and wipes his beard as he stands up with a giant smile on his face. He grips my hips and leans forward to kiss me, just as I hear Paul’s voice in the distance calling Porter’s name.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I scramble around, trying to find a shirt to put on so my brother doesn’t see me naked, straddling his best friend.

“Fuck,” Porter mutters, dropping his hands from my waist and finding the flannel on the floor. He tosses it to me and then looks down at his crotch.

Holy mother of all boners. Porter is packing and pressing against the zipper of his jeans.

“Oh, my God, you have a boner,” I say, speaking what’s running through my mind.

“Yeah, kind of happens when I have a sexy as fuck woman in my arms.” He rubs the back of his neck, looking around for an escape.

“Porter, where the hell are you? I thought you were bringing doughnies back to the boat. I told you no powdered ones.”

“Jesus,” Porter shakes his head as I scramble to put my shirt on, ignoring the pounding between my legs.

“You need to get that thing out of here,” I point at Porter’s erection.

“Thing?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“You know what I mean. Paul can’t see your penis all puffed up and proud like a peacock.”

Porter laughs. “Don’t fucking call it a peacock.”

“Was there orange juice in the fridge? I want some orange juice.”

Paul has to be only a few feet away now, still flapping his gums for everyone to hear.

“Get in the bathroom,” I hop off the cabinet and push him toward the back, trying to straighten my hair at the same time. “Don’t say a word, be quiet.”

“But it’s disgusting in here.”

“Just get in there!” I scream-whisper.

Just as I shut the door to the bathroom, Paul opens Tacy’s door. He walks up the stairs and stops when he sees me twirling my hair, leaning against the RV wall, the flannel buttoned up unevenly and what I can only assume is a guilty look on my face. He scans the RV and pushes Porter’s bag with his foot.

“What are you doing?” He’s confused, it’s evident in the way he asks his question, practically tilting his head to the side like a dog.

“Hanging,” I say as casually as possible.

“Why are you naked?”

“I’m not naked!” I screech, but then remind myself to be cool. With a more even voice, I say, “I’m wearing clothes.”

Paul scans my outfit and frowns. “That looks like Porter’s shirt, and what is that smell?” He sniffs the air.

Please don’t say sex, please for the love of all the holy men in the universe, don’t say sex.

“That’s Porter’s cologne, unmistakable! Where is he?”

Did you hear that? That was my jaw hitting the ground in shock. Denial roars awake, and instead of cowering in the corner where I run my finger up and down my lips, pulling a Bugs Bunny, I lie.

Life lesson, lying is good when faced with a situation like this. When your brother’s best friend just licked your clit to full on oral stimulation and is now hiding in the beard clipping infested, pee soaked bathroom so he doesn’t poke people with the ten foot long pole in his pants, this is a moment to lie. Lie your freaking ass off.

“What are you talking about? Porter is with you fishing. I’ve been spraying Porter’s cologne all over your bedding, you know, pulling another prank. I wanted to see if there was more to your friendship than meets the eye. Basically, I wanted to see if you got aroused at night from the smell. But oops, you caught me, oh well. We’ll just call it even.” I grab the box of doughnuts off the counter and hold them out to Paul. “Doughnie?”

Paul eyes the doughnuts, but doesn’t bite. “Then where is Porter?”

I shrug. “Got me. Did you check the bathrooms? He might be taking a shit.”

Paul scrunches his nose. “I knew that was him who was farting while we baited our hooks. I about passed out back there. Well, if you see him, tell him I got the doughnuts.” He grabs the box from my hand, quickly moving away. “Why are you wearing his flannel shirt?”

I look down at it and then curtsy. “I was going to make some minor alterations as a prank, so when he put it on, it wouldn’t fit. You know, bring the egomaniac down a few pegs. It’s easier to alter when I’m wearing it.” All grade-A lies.

“Oh, good one,” Paul nods. “Do we have orange juice?”

“Nope, I think the lodge does, though.”

“Alright, thanks, sis. Fingers crossed we catch some fish for dinner tonight.”

I hold out my crossed fingers for Paul as he exits the RV and heads toward the lodge. Once he’s out of sight, I run to the bathroom and fling the door open, breathing for the first time since Paul arrived.

Porter saunters out, erection controlled, but desire still laden in his eyes. He pins me against the cabinets and whispers, “Egomaniac?” His fingers grip my chin, forcing me to look at him.

I shrug my shoulders, not knowing how else to react when he’s inches away from me, blocking me in with his tall, yet sexy stature.

He licks his lips, the same lips that were just on my most private of areas a few moments ago. He leans forward and presses a very light kiss across my mouth.

His voice is heavy as he speaks. “Just so you know, you taste fucking amazing, like whipped cream and strawberries.”

He bites my bottom lip and then pulls away. I swear to you, scouts honor, my vagina just quivered. No joke, it shook on its own from Porter’s confession.

“Got to go. Have fun altering my shirt.” He winks and heads for the door.

I can’t help but go all girl on him and call out, “What’s happening here?”

Over his shoulder he says, “Exchanging souls with the Devil and dabbling in the forbidden. Don’t look into it, Marley, just know, you are better than I ever imagined.”

With that, he walks out of Tacy and slams the door shut. Confused as hell, I look out the window to see Porter standing next to the fire pit, one hand on his hip and the other running through his hair. His back is tense and I can tell, without even looking at his face that he’s regretting everything we just did.

If that’s not a blow to the gut, I don’t know what is.

**PORTER**

“Why do you have that stupid smile on your face?” Paul asks from over the passenger seat. “Are you really that excited about seeing the blue whale?”

“What?” I turn to Paul, who looks irritated. “Oh yeah, the blue whale, super excited man.”

Honestly, I could give two shits about the blue whale, which according to Paul and the history lesson he gave us an hour ago, the blue whale is the most iconic attraction on Route 66 because of its size and value it offered to families traveling in hot cars all day. Attached to the Davis pond in Catoosa, Oklahoma, the blue whale used to be a swimming hole of fun for tourists of all ages.

Nope, the whale is the last thing on my mind right about now. All I can think about are the leggings Marley is wearing and the tight top she decided to put on after she took my flannel off. Well, that and the fact that a few hours ago I had her boobs in my mouth and her hands dancing through my hair, pulling me closer to her.

When Paul asked me to go get the doughnuts, I wasn’t even expecting Marley to be awake, but the minute I saw her in my flannel, twirling around and spraying my cologne, my vision became black and all I could focus on was not mauling her up against the wall of the RV.

I never wanted to cross that line we developed, the friendship line, but I snapped, lost all control, and took what I so desperately have been craving for years, and fuck if she wasn’t one hell of a kisser. Probably the best I’ve ever had the pleasure of sinking my mouth on.

Even though I was lost in her touch, in the little mews that popped out of her delectable lips when she came, I couldn’t have been happier for Paul’s disturbance. It was like he gut checked me from afar, reminding me of one of the major reasons why I shouldn’t be fraternizing with Marley; she’s my best friend’s sister. She’s also the daughter of the man who employs me and the girl who I once destroyed.

“I like blue whales. They’re so big and girthy,” Marley says from the side, interrupting my thoughts and bringing them back to her long legs that are very slowly rubbing together, as if she is a cricket chirping away a dick-growing melody.

Paul clears his throat and chimes in. “Did you know that an average blue whale’s penis is nine feet long and twelve inches in diameter? Their balls can weigh up to one-hundred and fifty pounds. That’s like having two human adults hanging between your legs. Try rolling those up in your pants.” Paul sticks his finger up in the air as he continues. “Also, don’t plan on giving a blue whale a blow job anytime soon, unless you’re ready to swallow up to thirty five pints of semen. Ejaculation is a scary thing with whales; you can drown in whale spunk. What a way to go. Here lies, Porter. Died from suffocation of whale cum.”

“Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Mirth laces my voice.

“You can honestly tell me if a penis the size of an aspen tree started tickling your chin, you would be okay with that?”

“I don’t think I could handle tree penis,” Bernie chimes in.

Marley sits up in her seat, a smart ass look on her face. “Dad, would you be able to handle any kind of penis?”

“I handle my own.”

“Walked myself into that one,” Marley shivers.

“What’s interesting about whale sex,” Paul continues. “Is that even though a nine foot dick seems like a cannon of a cock any red-blooded male would be proud to stuff in his pants, it’s tiny compared to the actual size of a whale vagina.”

“Should I even ask…?”

“A whale’s vagina is one hundred feet long. Scientists have joked about needing a GPS to navigate between the massive meat curtains. But what’s really interesting is that you would think whales are a shy breed, you know with their graceful breaches and flirty fin flips, but in actuality, female whales are sluts.”

“Why are you still talking?” Marley asks.

Ignoring her, Paul sits on his knees and faces both Marley and myself. “I watched a documentary on Netflix about whale sex and come to find out, a female whale, also known as a cow in scientific terms, not to be confused with one you find on a farm…”

“Yes, because I always see female whales flopping around on the farm next to the corn, threatening to take the crop out if not referred to as a cow,” Marley deadpans.

Casually, Paul flips his sister off and continues. “Like I was saying, cows get around. They can be penetrated by multiple penises in a day.”

“Whale penis or other penis, like human or something?” I ask. “Just want to clarify.”

“Whale penis, you sick fuck. What human would be able to first of all, hold their breath long enough to catch up to a whale vagina, and then secondly, a human’s penis having sex with a whale vagina would be like a macaroni trying to penetrate the meteor crater. Just wouldn’t work. There would be zero pleasure in copulating.”

Bernie puts the RV in park and turns to face us. “As much fun as this conversation is, we’re here.”

We all look out the window to see a large blue whale made of dried concrete sitting in the middle of a murky pond. The whale’s mouth is open and there is a slide hanging from the side from what used to be used by many tourists visiting the popular attraction. Now, it almost looks like you could get a staph infection from just looking at it.

As nostalgic as the whale is, it’s lost its charm, thanks to Paul’s whale sex lesson. All I can see is the slide being a giant whale dick and the happy smile on the whale representing recent… “copulating.”

“Oh, it’s better than I imagined,” Paul says with excitement, hopping out of the car quickly and jogging over to it.

Bernie and Marley follow behind Paul, while I pull up the rear. Marley hangs on her dad’s arm, her camera in her hand, and her perfect little ass swaying back and forth with each step. I’m convinced she’s adding extra sway for me. My suspicions are confirmed when she looks back at me for a second and winks.

Fucking vixen!

Paul runs up to the whale and starts to examine the engineering of the large figure. Bernie discusses with Paul the construction that must have gone into preserving such a large attraction over the years.

We aren’t the only people visiting the blue whale today. There are a few other cars parked next to Tacy, a family with some small children and an elderly lady. Off to the side of the pond, there are little tables that almost look like they were plucked from
The Little Mermaid
with their under the water theme. I take a seat at one of the tables and observe the landmark. I try to think about what it was like when people were in their old fashioned bathing suits, partying out on the tail of the whale, having a “gay old time.”

“Want your picture in front of the whale?” Marley asks as she sits next to me.

It’s the first time she’s talked directly to me since I left the RV. Her voice is soft and sweet, and all I want to do is taint that sweet innocence of hers.

“I think I’m good. Paul sort of ruined whales for me.”

“Are you just seeing whale penis too?”

“Pretty much,” I nod.

She bumps my shoulder with hers. “Get a good view of my legs on that drive? I would have sworn my legs were growing nipples by the way you were staring at them.”

“And yet, you continued to run them back and forth at a seductive pace, knowing I was watching the whole time.”

She shrugs. “Have to maintain interest.”

I bump her leg with mine. “With you, there is no running out of interest.”

“Laaaaaaame,” she carries out, busting my balls.

“Hey, that was very heart felt.”

She’s about to answer me when the elderly lady comes up to both of us.

Have you ever searched crazy old lady in Google images? Try it. You would most likely find a picture of the lady standing in front of us. She is a good four feet tall, thanks to the hunch in her back. She’s wearing a cardigan most likely from the 1900s and her hair is sectioned off in little rubber bands, causing her hair to stick straight up in the air. She’s wearing glasses, that’s a lie, they’re not glasses, they’re goggles that make her eyes look five sizes too big. And then there are her earrings, or should I say her leftover craft supplies. Draping from her ears are spools of ribbon that she tied through her ear lobes.