Page 3 of Another Last Call
“Couple of days,” I replied.
From the corner of my eye, I saw her nod slowly.
“Have you ever had sex?” she asked.
My eyes nearly burst out of my skull, but she didn’t so much as glance in my direction as I gaped at her.
“No,” I finally answered. “Have… have you?”
She shook her head, then looked over at me. “D’you want to? With me?”
I did, and I told her that. She had a condom with her and we hurried down the beach to the gazebo so we had some semblance of privacy. It was chilly away from the bonfire, the coolness of fall creeping into the air already, but I barely noticed it at all.
She kissed me and let me touch her everywhere. That was thrilling in itself; boobs always were, and she let me feel her up for as long as I wanted. Which, honestly, wasn’t very long. Ididwant to touch her boobs for as long as she’d let me, but while I’d made out with girls before, I’d always known we weren’t going all the way.
So knowing I was about to… yeah. I was eager to get to the next part, let’s say that.
I wasn’t inside her for very long. After getting the condom on and sliding my cock into her, I got maybe five or six thrusts in before I let out a wavering groan and came. I tried to laugh it off, embarrassed, but she’d smiled and said it was okay, that she’d heard it was normal for the first time to be like that and that it didn’t matter anyway, since she’d orgasmed. Which I wasn’t sure was true, but she said it was, and I was going to damn well believe her.
I thought about it often after the last time I left Marble Beach, that frantic, groping tryst in a gazebo by the lake. Neither of us knew what we were doing, but she’d been gorgeous and warm and willing and so, so special to me. But I hadn’t heard from her after, and that was the last time I’d seen her.
That first year I was in university, I told friends the story of my first time on drunken nights when we were bragging. We’d laugh about it—not at her, neverather, but how she lived in Marble Beach and could’ve had her pick of the countless rich kids with parents who had big lake houses instead of crappy cabins. And instead, she’d been stuck with me, so instead of losing her virginity in a nice fluffy bed or a hot tub or hell, on the back of a jet ski or something, she’d been bare-ass naked on the sand-gritty wood of a gazebo on a cold night.
The poor girl. At least I’d made her… well. At least shesaidI’d made her come.
Years went by and I met more girls. Had more sex. Got arguably better at it. I broke my share of hearts and had mine broken in return.
That first girl, though.
Sitting on the back deck of the cabin that night with a beer in my hand, I looked out at the lake and wondered what had happened to her. Everyone I’d been friends with had plans to leave. Marble Beach wasn’t big, and it was mainly a summer town, so unless they wanted to work in shops or restaurants or one of the bed-and-breakfasts nearby, there wasn’t much here for anyone.
I couldn’t remember if she’d said what she wanted to do back then, but I imagined she must have left, too.
After finishing my degree, my next goal was to start my own business. I’d worked hard, found the best jobs I could, dedicated myself to earning enough to be my own boss like my dad had when he was my age. He always asked me to come back out to the cabin each year, even for just a week or two, but I’d always been too busy.
I wished I’d come here with him.
I wish I’d spent more time with him before he died.
The last rays of the sun were dancing on the horizon across from me. As they dipped their way into the lake, I lifted my beer bottle in a toast.
Six months without him now.
I wished we could have had one last beer together.
Three
Maggie
“Comealittlecloser,sweetheart, and tell me about those specials again.”
I stared at the tourist, my expression somewhere between blank and disgusted. He was your typical well-off white asshole, with thick salt-and-pepper hair and a weak chin that he jutted out so it appeared more prominent. I wasn’t sure what he did for a living, but he looked like he probably owned multiple suits. Not that he was wearing a suit, but something about the way his expensive golf shirt was tucked into those pressed khakis made it seem like he was the kind of guy who worked in a big, fancy office somewhere.
“Just the one special,” I replied blandly. “The Beach Burger’s half-price until five.”
He chuckled, exchanginglookswith the other men at his table before bending his arm so he could rest his elbow against the back of his chair as he turned towards me.
“No smile for me today?” The corners of his lips curled up, making him look about as friendly and approachable as a slime-covered toad. “Come on, sweetheart. We’re all friends here. I’m Peter. That’s Todd and Les and Jake. What’s your name?”
