Got MILF? (5 page)

Of course, there was no way I could do that with my libido drained and the thoughts of that night suddenly flooding back to me. I said bye to Estella and wiped myself clean, all the while thinking that at any moment, some very dangerous people would break into our house and turn me and my family into human slushies.

So as you can imagine, I nearly had a heart attack when, a few days later, a giant fist came slamming against my front door. All while Mom and Izzy were out shopping for my birthday.

“Open the fucking door, Eddie,” a voice that sounded scarily close to Rolando’s called. “I know you’re in there, esé. Estella told us you were home.”

I looked down at the text message my uncle’s fiancé had sent me not an hour before:
U home?

No fucking way. They must have gotten to her; scared and threatened her until she told them I’d be here
. I looked out the window to find Rolando and two huge friends of his on our porch. Rolando was a big guy, but each of his friends stood at least a head taller than him. They bought to mind those twins from the Cartel in
Breaking Bad
who hunted Walter White.

Rolando looked agitated to say the least; pacing up and down the porch and scratching the greasy scalp under his ponytail. He wore a blue do-rag and a long, loose baseball shirt. The other two guys wore nothing but singlets and jeans with dark stains all over them.

One of those guys caught sight of the fluttering of curtains, nodded my way and whistled. Rolando pushed past him and looked right up at me. “Come down here, homes!” he shouted.

I’m so fucked.

“Just wanna talk, esé,” he said in a slightly more subdued voice. “And it’s better if your mom and sister aren’t around.”

He got me. They weren’t going to leave, and the longer I kept them waiting, the greater the chance that Izzy and my mom would show up and find themselves in the middle of what was about to go down.

I called out through the window. “Are you going to leave them alone?”

“Who?”

“Mom and Izzy.”

I heard them whisper. Then, Rolando said: “If they’re not here, they won’t be involved.”

Fucker better keep his word. “And Estella?”

“What about her?”

“You’re going to leave her out of this.”

I heard one of them laugh and say: “We’ve already taken care of her, esé.”

Fucking bastards!
I dashed out of my room and went down to the front door. I threw it open and stared at the trio through the security door.

“What did you fucks do to her?”

“Just come out. Come on.”

“Fuck you, Rolando. I want to know what you did to her.”

I saw my cousin’s eyes go dark, and then he moved towards the door. I stepped back, fear fluttering from my stomach. With his giant, fat fist, he gripped the handle of the locked security door and pulled the damn thing open with ease.

I stood there, in front of those three damned criminals, with my mouth hanging open.

My mom’s frigging cheap door would literally be the death of me.

Standing in front of my fat-fuck of an older cousin and his two cronies, I became pants-pissingly aware of just how miniscule I was compared to them. I had none of the rolling muscles on their arms; nothing even close to resembling a barrel chest, and with barely enough strength to beat a fifteen-year-old white girl in a fight (if I was lucky).

My field of vision darkened the moment my cousin stepped towards me.

My heart virtually stopped when he pulled me in to a crushing hug.

He smelled of cigarettes and cheap beer, and if it wasn’t for the fact that my brain function wasn’t at its best, I would have tried my damnedest to break out of that embrace.

Not that my scrawny ass would have had much success.

I sucked in a lungful of clean, fresh air as soon as he let me go, and I almost collapsed when a giant hand from one of his compatriots came slamming down on my shoulder.

Rolando turned me to face him. “I’m going to be indebted to you for the rest of my life, Eddie.”

“Danny,” one of the other guys began, “He would have been proud of the shit you pulled that night on El Coyote.”

“God rest his soul,” the other muttered, making the sign of the cross.

“And God willing, that piece of shit
El Coyote
is burning in the deepest pit of hell right now for what he did to my esé.” There was a fire in Rolando’s eyes that scared the living bejesus out of me, which wasn’t helped by the fact that I still wasn’t entirely sure if I was in the clear. Mafia guys give each other the kiss of death, right? Maybe the Cartel has something similar with hugs.

Rolando threw his arm around my shoulders and didn’t guide so much as
force
me away from the safety of my home. “Come with us. I’m going to start making it up to you right now.”

~~~~~

About a half-hour later, we arrived at
El Santo de Autos
– a quiet little garage on the other side of town. As Rolando pulled up into the garage, I immediately recognized the hatchback we parked beside. It was Estella’s business car; the one whose windshield I’d broke running down the drug lord. Only, the windshield was fine. And not a dent or broken headlight in sight.

“Can’t even tell, right?” Rolando said as we stepped out of the car. “My homies here did a great job.”

“Pro bono,” one of them said with a grin. “For our bro.” I assumed he was talking about Rol, but they were both smiling at me.

Shit, just who had I killed that made all these scary motherfuckers like me so much? He must have been one drug lord to rule them all.

“Last thing I wanted was Estella losing her job. You know, accidents happen, but she’s only new there. At least this way, her company doesn’t have to worry about it.” I was shocked by the sincere tone in Rolando’s voice. I’d always thought the guy had lacked even the most rudimentary forms of human empathy.

“And you guys are the sweetest for doing it.”

Fuck me running; there was Estella, walking up from the garage in dark sunglasses and a tight blue dress that made my dick want to burst out of my jeans. She gave each of us a peck on the cheek and walked over to her car. “You’re like artists. No one will ever know what happened to it!”

To my surprise, the huge “cronies” were grinning like schoolkids; their faces a little red. “It was nothing, Miss Estella,” one said.

“Anything for the fearless lady who helped take El Coyote out,” the other added.

She laughed. “I won’t take credit for any of that.” She stood behind me and massaged my shoulders. I hoped to God no one would see the hard lump in my pants. “This crazy guy’s the only one you should be thanking.”

“Speaking of thanks,” Rolando said, and then gave a shrill whistle. One of his cronies gripped the back of my head and turned me to face the direction of the garage.

A blaring engine revved, and from out of the shadows rolled a red convertible with a very familiar leaping cat logo. My knees grew weak. I didn’t…I couldn’t let myself think for a moment that this was their ‘thanks.’

Hoooly shit.

Rolando’s friends urged me forward, while Estella lowered her glasses and blasphemed.

I stared at the red convertible as my feet drew closer, feeling like I was walking on air, and that my social standing was about to shoot up like a rocket.

Rolando’s meaty mitt fell on my shoulder. “Early birthday present. Hope you like it, homes.”

~~~~~

The next few weeks and months went by pretty fast. Over time, Rolando and I became closer, and while I was still pretty certain that he was involved in some shady underground activities, I never received any unexpected or unwanted calls from the Cartel threatening to serve my ass to someone on a platter.

I chalk that up to Rolando and his boys knowing how to keep their mouths shut in regards to who took out El Coyote.

Taking that red convertible to college was an indescribable joy. Thankfully, the campus security was pretty tight so there was little chance of anyone trying to jack it while I was in class.

The amount of extra attention I received from girls was even better than I could have expected. I got more than just a few handjobs over the next six months. One gorgeous Latina beauty said she’d always wanted to cum in the backseat of a car like mine, so I spent one pretty awesome evening learning just the right way to go down on her. She came, all right, and not just once. I’m not about to take full credit for that; the red beast I rode played a pretty big hand in that.

So my college days were soon filled with little more than making new friends, meeting girls, and doing nasty things with said girls in my car. All that fun socializing meant I was putting less and less time into my studies, which drove my mom crazy. “Don’t you understand that this is your inheritance, mi hijo? Oh, thank God your father isn’t here to see you piss away your education like this.”

So I failed two of my economics subjects and barely scraped a pass in Psych. It looked like summer school was the way it was going to be.

Tio Esteban and Estella were married a month or so after I got my license, and everyone was thrilled at their union. Estella was the kind of woman who could charm a rock, so the women adored having her officially in the family. And the men beamed with pride at their golden boy Esteban who’d managed to pull such a smoking hottie for a wife. I sincerely doubt that I was the only guy – young or old – in my family with dirty fantasies about her during the ceremony. But I hoped (for my sake as much as my uncle’s) that I was the only one who’d taken it beyond just fantasies.

I can only imagine what every guy in church was thinking when Estella appeared in that wedding dress. If they were anything like me, we’d all be going to hell someday.

I would have sold my soul just for the chance to fuck her in that big, white dress and then add a little extra white under her veil.

Here comes the bride. And here I come too.

I held the hymn book over the front of my pants.

When Estella and Esteban exchanged their vows, it suddenly hit me: they really loved each other. Like,
really
loved each other. Both had tears glistening down their faces once they were done, and when they kissed, it was like two desert wanderers who had just found water.

I felt a little awful for all that I had done with Estella.

I felt equally bad that I would probably never do that stuff with Estella again.

Yeah, I know; I’m a selfish prick. My car was getting me more action than I’d ever dreamed, yet I was still pining after my uncle’s wife. That wasn’t right.

But don’t throw stones; any other horny nineteen-year-old who had done it with the hottest MILF in his life would have thought the same thing.

Anyway, my uncle and new aunt flew to Rio for their honeymoon, and I didn’t see or hear from them again for another month. It was during that time that I kept taking full advantage of the status my car bought me, and worked longer and longer hours at Game Island to keep me financially afloat. Not for the car – Rolando and his cronies took care of that – but to buy some decent clothes, take girls out, etcetera. It was no wonder my academics began slipping – or rather, nose-diving.

So that brings me to the next chapter of my story. Being the wonderful nephew that I am, I offered to pick Tio Esteban and Estella up from the airport when they arrived from Rio.

“That would be great,” my Mom commented. “Will you have room for one more in that big, expensive car of yours?”

“Sure,” I said. “But only one more? Izzy isn’t coming?”

“Nope. And neither am I.”

I paused. “So…who’s the ‘one more’?”

“Mia.” At her blank look, she sighed. “Estella’s daughter. The one who’s only just come back from Japan.”

Fuck, was she ever Estella’s daughter.

On the morning of their return, I opened the front door and felt my heart leap into my throat at the sight of a younger, geekier version of Estella. She had her mother’s thick, dark hair, and from the looks of it, just as much ass in those right black jeans. Only this girl carried a shoulder bag adored in colorful pins and patches from her recent trip. Three dark Kanji were tattooed on her right shoulder, each adored with a simple red and black cherry blossom design.

Be still my stupid heart.

She smiled. “Hello. You’re my new cousin, right? Ernie?”

“Um, hi. And yes— I mean, no. I mean, I’m your cousin, but my name’s Eddie.”

She raised a quizzical eyebrow at me. For the first time in weeks, I actually felt
awkward
around a girl.

She reached out a small hand with brilliantly-colored fingernails. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Eddie.”

I swallowed, felt myself smile like an idiot, and shook her hand. “Same.” And before I could stop myself, I blurted out: “You look a hell of a lot like your Mom.”

She laughed, and I thanked God she didn’t take it badly. “Yeah, I get that. I’ll take it as a compliment. Most guys can barely keep their eyes or their hands off my Mom.”

There was a look in her eyes that arrested me for a moment. Like there was a hidden meaning in her words.

“So, should we go?”

I swallowed. “Um, sure. But maybe first…” I scrambled for something, anything, to delay our departure so I could catch my breath. “Don’t you want to—”

“Oh of course! God, I’m so rude. Is your Mom here? I haven’t even met my new aunt yet!”

And like most Latina women, what was supposed to be a quick meeting turned out to be almost twenty minutes of chatter. They really hit it off, but that was no surprise because apart from Estella’s good looks, Mia had also inherited her charm.

By the time we actually left the house, we were running a half hour late for their arrival. And that was assuming we wouldn’t get stuck in traffic.

Which we did.

There had been an accident up ahead, causing congestion that, according to the radio, went on until at least five miles ahead. “So, how did a guy like you end up with a car like this?” Mia asked as we waited. I turned down the hardcore trance mix I was playing through my iPod.

I tried to be cool about it. “A couple of guys owed me a favor. A big favor. This was their way of saying thanks.”