Stacy's Dad Has Got It Going On (16 page)

She rode him. He filled her. She could
feel him everywhere. As she attacked his mouth with a fleshy kiss, she bounced
in his lap. God, his pants were going to be covered in pussy juice by the time
she was finished with him! She hadn’t pushed them far enough down. At this
point, she didn’t even care. Pants could be washed later, but she had to get
off now!

Eric grabbed her ass, then her hips,
then her tits, and then her hips again. He couldn’t seem to decided where he
wanted to keep them, but Savannah liked his hands on her hips, guiding her
motion, helping her along. She pulled her head away from his, and banged it on
the ceiling before pulling her tits from the lace that enveloped them and
shoving both in his face. He went wild, licking her nipples and her cleavage,
sucking and biting. She moved faster on him, sliding her hand down between
their bodies to play with her clit. God, she knew what she liked, and right now
she just wanted to come.

“This is going to be a quickie,” Eric
warned her over the sound of falling rain.

“You coming?” she asked. She wanted
him to. As she scoured her clit, she tightened up her pussy muscles and rode
him harder.

“God, you are so tight!” Eric plunged
his face between Savannah’s tits and hissed, “Yes!” He dug his fingers into her
sides, drew her up, and pulled her down on his dick. The itch was scratched.
He’d got all up in there, and his monster did its job like a pro.

“You gonna come?” she cooed. Again,
“You gonna come? Tell me you’re gonna come.”

“I’m gonna come!” he cried, though his
voice was muffled by her breasts.

She let herself fall on him, right
flat down on him, and she didn’t move except to massage his erection with her
pussy muscles. As she milked him, he hissed until he squealed. She pictured the
hot cream shooting out of his dick to fill her all the way up. The vision was a
means of arousal unlike any other. She leaned back without letting his cock
fall from her snatch, and she rubbed her wet clit so fast her hand was a blur.
Her hips bucked forward with wild approval. Electricity coursed through her
veins as Eric sucked her tits. She came again and again, in miniature spurts
and jerks, until her clit was too sensitive to touch.

When she rolled off Eric’s spent cock,
the rain tumbled down onto the windshield. “See?” she said. “Nobody could have
seen us. And wasn’t that worth it?”

“Yeah,” he panted as she tucked her
tits back into her bra and threw on her hoodie. “What are we going to say when
Stacy asks what took so long?”

Savannah just laughed. “Doesn’t look
like she’s talking to you right now, but if she asks we’ll just say my ankle
was acting up and it took you a long time to get me up the stairs.”

Tucking his dick back into his
underwear, Eric zipped up his pants and let out a huge sigh. “Certainly didn’t
take you a long time to get me up.” He opened his door and geared up to step
out into the rain. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Raindrops pelted Savannah’s scalp the
second she opened the passenger side door. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed her
backpack and forced herself onto her feet. When the hell would this pain go
away? And it was so off-and-on that she couldn’t really predict when her ankle
was going to hurt and when it wasn’t.

“Oh, sorry!” Eric cried, running to
her side and scooping her into his grasp. “After that little ride, my legs are
ready to give out too.”

She tried for a brisk pace toward the
side door, but met with little success, so she pulled her fuzzy hood up and
over her head to keep the cold rain at bay. Big translucent splotches developed
across Eric’s shirt as the weather pelted him good.

“What’s Stacy so upset about anyway?”
Savannah asked. “Not that it’s any of my business.”

Eric let out a forced-casual chuckle.
“Oh, it’s really nothing. She got a call on her cell phone from her mother when
we were walking around the campus. Hilary told her I’ve been…”

She’d started out not wanting to know
anything about Eric’s home life. She hadn’t wanted to hear his sob story. It
must have been the sex that’d changed things, because now she couldn’t let go.
She wanted to know about him and his wife and his family. “You’ve been what?”

Slowing his pace, he led Savannah
across the grass glowing like sprigs of emerald. In the rain, the whole world
smelled fresh and alive. The droplets kissing her face and clinging to the tip
of her nose somehow lessened her pain. For a brief moment, she felt wonderful.
And then Eric said, “I’ve been smoking a lot of weed lately, that’s all.”

Savannah stopped in her tracks. The
rain was soaking through her hoodie now, right where her backpack sat heavy on
her shoulder. She dropped the bag and laughed, but Eric only looked at her
cock-eyed, like he hadn’t heard the joke. She looked up at her red brick
building. It was all dark and wet, except for the dry patches underneath
people’s balconies.
How many lives exist beyond those walls?
she
wondered.
How many lives are like mine?

Her heart went numb when she returned
her gaze to Eric’s handsome face. His hair streamed in the downpour, and she
thought about the shower, where he’d pinned her to the wall and fucked her.
Water,
water everywhere…
and Eric’s smoking... “Did you say you’ve been smoking a
lot of
weed
?”

Eric shrugged like he thought he was
Mr. Cool. No, he shrugged like Savannah would
think
he was Mr. Cool. She
didn’t. That must have shown on her face, because he stammered his excuses.
“It’s no big deal. I keep telling Hilary, and today I told Stacy the same
thing—that it’s barely even a drug. I mean, it’s like alcohol, and you can buy
that anywhere. Some people have a drink at the end of a long day, some people
smoke tobacco products, I happen to smoke pot. So what?”

Tension sizzled in the space between
them. She remembered the feel of his tongue on her clit after he’d frozen it
with ice. That’s how she felt now: numb, and then subjected to Eric’s diatribe
in defense of his drug of choice. She didn’t really know what to say. Or, maybe
she knew what she wanted to say, but she didn’t actually want to say it. She
didn’t want to start something. In fact, she wanted to end it.

“It’s not like I’m addicted or
anything,” he went on. She could tell by the pitch of his voice that he was
trying to convince her, and he could obviously see she wasn’t buying it.
“That’s the great thing about pot—it’s non-addictive. It’s not like booze or
cigarettes or hard drugs, where you get hooked and you can’t kick the habit. I
mean, you’ve spent a lot of time with me over the last couple days. Have I
smoked once? No! I even brought some stuff with me, and I haven’t been into it.
Sure I use it, but I don’t
need
it. I can stop any time.”

Before she heard the words in her
head, she was saying them. “So stop.”

The falling rain barely registered,
but the thunder did, off in the distance. “Come on, let’s get inside,” Eric
said. When he touched the arm of her wet sweater, she could have sworn his hand
sizzled against it. She could feel his anger. He wanted her to be on his side,
and she wasn’t. He wanted
somebody
to be on his side, and nobody was.
Not even his college-student daughter. Who else could he turn to?

When they arrived in discomfiture back
at the apartment, Stacy’s blaring radio cut their shared silence. Stacy’s
bedroom door was closed. Heaving a sigh of relief, Savannah headed to her room
to change out of her wet clothes, but Eric grabbed her arm before she got too
far. Pulling her close, he whispered in her ear, “I guess you won’t let me
change in your room this time.”

She took in a sharp breath and pulled
away from him. “You’re welcome to it after I’ve finished.” Hobbling to her
refuge, she shut the door. God, she wanted to sit down on her bed, fall back
into pillows, and sleep. First she had to get out of wet pants, which had gone
limp at the bottom. She’d walked on the hem all the way up the stairs.

There came a knock at her door as she
slipped out of her clothes, and her heart raced at Eric’s intrusion. The door
opened before she’d said a word, and just as she started to snip, “I said after
I’m done!” Stacy poked her head inside.

“Oh sorry,” Stacy said, lowering her
eyes to the floor. “Didn’t know you were changing.”

Relief. Or disappointment?

“It’s okay, hun. Come on in.” Savannah
jammed her feet into fleecy pajama bottoms as Stacy closed the door and sat on
her bed. “I pried,” she admitted. Throwing on the nearest T-shirt, Savannah
collapsed on the bed beside her roommate. “I kept asking your dad what was
wrong until he told me.”

Stacy slunk to the floor and, setting
her head against Savannah’s bad leg, released a torrent of angry tears. “I felt
so sorry for him when he came here saying all this stuff about mom and her
intern guy and whatever, and it was all his own fucking goddamn
fucking
fault!”

Grabbing the box of tissues from her
bedside table, Savannah pushed it down the bed. She hoped to hell Stacy
wouldn’t pick up the heavy scent of Eric’s cum seeping from her snatch.
Savannah was sure she could smell it. God, as if today hadn’t gone downhill
fast enough!

What could she say to console her poor
roommate? She was so bad at all this. She really and truly sucked at comforting
people. “There are tissues, if you want.”

“My goddamn fucking father is a
pothead! I mean, what the fuck is that? What the fuck? He’s, like, forty-eight
years old!”

“Forty-eight?” Savannah asked. “Wow,
he barely looks forty! I can’t believe that—forty-eight? Really?”

Stacy looked up with brow furled and a
scowl planted firmly on her face. Her red cheeks glistened with tears as she
sat up a little straighter beside the bed. Like a helium balloon, her
expression suddenly popped, and she slunk back down onto Savannah’s
fleece-covered leg. “I don’t understand how a middle-aged white-collar white
guy gets pot in the first place. Like, what, does he hang out in the hood
during his lunch hour? How would he even know where to buy it from? What, does
he just, like, spot the nearest black guy and ask him for drugs?” And then she
quickly self-corrected, “No offence, Sav. I don’t think all black guys sell
drugs. You know I’m not racist. I just meant…”

“It’s okay,” Savannah interrupted.
Better than let Stacy dig herself in any further. “Where he gets it probably
isn’t the biggest issue here.”

Pulling a tissue from the box, Stacy
blew her nose in one loud expulsion. “No, you’re right. It’s just so weird.
And, you know, it’s not even because it’s pot. My dad was going on and on
about, oh, you can buy alcohol everywhere, blah, blah, blah…”

“Yeah, he said that to me too.”

“But, like, if my mom had called me to
say he was drinking every night, I’d feel exactly the same. It’s not about the
substance, it’s about, like…” Stacy shook her head, like the words were in
there but she couldn’t quite find them. “You know?”

Strangely, and maybe this was simply a
result of living together, Savannah did know precisely what she meant. “You
wonder what’s so bad in his life that he has to escape reality. And your mom’s
his everyday reality, so when he comes home and smokes a joint…”

“More than one,” she said.

With a nod, Savannah went on, “Okay,
when he smokes more than one, your mom wonders what she’s done so wrong that he
needs to escape from
her
.”

Savannah was surprised to get all that
out without sobbing, but she figured her emotional calm could only indicate a
stabilization of her psyche. The last time she’d come this close to talking
about her truth, she’d wept as hard as Stacy.

“That’s exactly it,” Stacy said,
nodding in amazement. “How did you know?”

That was the question Savannah didn’t
want asked. Right now, she knew she couldn’t skirt it. She couldn’t change the
topic. She couldn’t run away. She just had to answer. “When I was young…” She
tried to smile, but her lips quivered and fell. “My mom took a lot of
prescription painkillers back then. I guess…I mean, yeah, she was addicted. For
sure. She wasn’t working. She was home with us kids, and I remember even before
she got up in the morning, she kept a bottle of pills right beside the bed.
She’d be popping pills practically before she opened her eyes, and the whole
day she’d be in a daze. One time she fell down the stairs. She was so doped up
she couldn’t walk straight. I was just a little kid—I thought she was going to
die.”

“You never told me that,” Stacy said.
The tears had stopped rolling down her cheeks, so at least Savannah’s
confession did some good.

Sitting up in bed, Savannah shifted
until Stacy’s little blonde head rested on her thigh. Maybe this was how she
could console her best friend, after betraying her so badly. Savannah petted
Stacy’s hair. “So I know how you’re feeling right now. Ashamed?”

Stacy’s head shot straight up. Her
eyes were wide with disbelief. “Yeah,” she said. “How did you know?”

There was so much of her childhood
Savannah never talked about, even within her family, but Stacy needed
comforting right now. Maybe she needed comforting too. She felt deceived by
Eric. She felt like he wasn’t the person she thought he was. Maybe sex with her
was just his substitute for the drug of choice.