I'm still proud to say that the rave I met Rachel at was not the last party
that I was more than happy to attend. My life became cars and Scott during
the day time and Rachel and drinking and dancing and more of Rachel during
the night time. Sleep? That's what you did after fooling around with
Rachel. And I was starting to really like the Rachel part of my life. She
was the first one I connected with, other than Scott on the sparse
occasions when he wasn't in the mood to be a car-obsessed jerk. And she had
a way of making me feel as no other human had ever been able too. I forgot
how crappy life had been when I was with her and could only think of fun
and excitement and laughter while we were together. Not to mention that she
was hot. As were the parties, the raves, and everything else I can't
remember. All I know is that whatever it was, it was hot and I'm not
talking just temperature here, although that was hitting triple digits as
well.
Rachel had been telling me how at the end of the summer her crew did this 24/7 party thing where they just went from rave to rave, following the parties around until everyone collapsed from exhaustion. She said last time she made it six days and then passed out. Woke up in an alley wearing newspaper and Mardis Gras beads. Since the tongue and tattoo incident I was more into remembering what happened the night before, but still, when Rach turned those sparkling eyes on me and grinned, promising me a good time, who was I to resist?
I asked her why the hell we should wait for summer to end before we took on the night life of Post-Pulse LA. She thought it was an excellent idea. My only problem was being able to get away from work. I'm sure Scott would have just grunted and not cared if I disappeared for days on end, but I'd had people bail on me before and I wasn't going to be like that. Hitting a bunch of parties was all well and good, but I'm still not about disappearing without warning. And no matter how much those eyes of Rachel's shone, I couldn't bring myself to do anything of the sort. Scott wouldn't have said anything about it, but we got in several decent-sized projects and I wasn't leaving him to do all of the work. I was improving by leaps and bounds to the point where I was thinking about taking on a total restoration all on my own. If I took off, Scott's job would become a hundred times harder to meet the deadlines.
But sooner than later it was hitting the end of summer and business was slowing around the garage. I could feel the itch to hit the party scene for days on end from all the work Scott and I had been busy with for the summer, not to mention the fact that Scott was good for conversation only if an exhaust system needed to be welded together. Maybe it was just comparison, but I would have sworn he had been talking less and grunting more since Rach and I hooked up. It was a good thing we had a rhythm down in the garage since we had most communication down to unintelligible noises and pointing. I almost killed him one day when I realized that I had made a noise close to a grunt and he handed me the 9/16 ratchet which was what I had wanted. I was becoming like him. Had to get out of there. But he wasn't coming out from under the hood for anything.
The funk was bugging me, even if I wasn't letting it show. So much so that I even tried cooking once. That wound up being a bad move. We sat mostly in silence and what little conversation we mustered surrounded the fabulous topic of cars and a project that was winding to a close. Let me tell you, it wasn't worth flashing the one guy to get some more candles. It wouldn't have been worth it to spit on the guy. He might have liked that just as much though. The most interesting part was when Scott mentioned that the buyer wanted the car delivered to him in San Diego.
I almost suggested that I could follow him there and then we could drive back, but that idea passed quickly when I thought about us driving back for hours in dead silence. Even if I brought Rachel along it wouldn't be worth Scott sitting in the back sulking and scowling and killing the whole fun of a road trip. Well, in reality, the second the radio got cranked up and junk food got ripped open and flew all over the place, he would insist on driving with everyone face forward, hands in their own laps the rest of the way. That quickly ended my desire to offer to drive along. So he decided he'd contact Mr. T.A. Barron and see if he could arrange a ride back somehow since he figured that Barron owed him a few favors. Barron agreed since his new mistress didn't like the color of her car and Scott could take care of that quickly while he was there, everything being provided of course, and Scott got to ride back in a sleek black limo. What a waste. Bet he wouldn't think about draining the bar and having six of his friends come along to make it worthwhile.
The minute my attempt at reinstating conversation between Scott and I, otherwise known as dinner, was over I ran to find Rachel and give her the good news. As Scott drove away, me and Rachel's "Party Till You Drop" plans were put into effect. We hit the party trail and kept on keeping on. She said it was wild in the past while filling me in on details of how it loud and fast it was and there was nothing but drinking, dancing, and booty day after day after day. If anything, she downplayed it. Seriously, it was...there are no words to even describe it. It was really that intense.
We hit the first party within an hour of Scott hitting the road. I knew I was in for it full time and full throttle when someone handed me a drink on the way to the dance floor. This was completely foreign from the other parties and raves. There was no easing into these. You just jumped headfirst and hoped there was still water in the pool or that there was someone out there that would catch you. The part of me that was so repressed while in the garage with Scott was forgotten and everything underneath shone like a bright flame. It was great.
The lights flashed, music blasted all around the half-naked, and sometimes fully naked bodies that turned and twisted against each other. I might have been dancing with one person or ten, I didn't know. It was the blow out of all blow outs. Everyone was there too, all of the summer punks, the gothic gangs, and even the preppy kids going to college or whatever mommy and daddy were paying for during the rest of the year were there, determined to fit the next nine months of having to be restrained into one wild week. What losers. I got the party this week and I would get the next one the next weekend.
Each party melted into the other, hours and minutes lost meaning. It was almost as if time ceased to mean anything. It felt like that first big project for Mr. Barron that Scott and I did where I was so focused on something that nothing else mattered. Except this time it was nothing but fun, partying and sex. Oh, and there wasn't that pesky little worry that hit men would be sent if we selected the wrong color for the floor mats. In the whole week, there was exactly one serious moment. Drugs were flowing all over the place, and as much as everyone said it was great and I had to try sniffing this or smoking that, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Bad memories or something. Rach and I had crashed in this chair and a guy offered her a hit of something. She went to take it and I jumped up and told her that if she was going to do that, I was out. She almost laughed and then realized I was dead serious. She shrugged and handed it back, saying she wasn't going to miss out on having me for a whole week for something she could do without. Then she licked her lips and said she knew a better way to get high and pulled me back in her lap. Fifteen minutes later, it was my drug of choice as well.
Except for that moment, the week was one huge party beyond anything I'd ever experienced. I know we started out late in the morning and staggered over to some other building when it was night. What night, I never knew. I ended up crashing on a couch in the back for a while close to dawn and woke up to find Rachel and some guy leaning over my back. Rach had drawn a tic- tac-toe board on my back and was playing with the guy. Once she saw that I was up, tic-tac-toe was forgotten and we hit the scene again. A blur of music and bodies and dancing comes to mind. Although, I know that Rachel took a nap at some point under a table. And that I only know because I was dancing on top of it and then dove off and everyone landed on the floor, laughing and howling. When I glanced over I saw her curled up and went to check to see if she was okay. She woke up a few minutes later and decided we were going to jet out of the place. Then we were at some guy's apartment until the stoners crashed it and a herd of us then went over to some chick's house. That was the time the cops showed up. I'm not sure why they showed up, maybe it was the music, maybe it was someone who called and asked about the two girls whooping, dancing, and having sex on the roof. Anyway the cops came, Rachel and I got down off of the roof , and then we were back at another club.
And booty? The roof thing didn't even touch on that part of the experience. Rachel had promised. And oh, did Rachel deliver. Before we were even on the dance floor at the first club she was all over me, feeling me up and grinding into me as we made our way to the floor. Next thing I knew, we were in a stall in the bathroom, going at it for all we were worth. You wouldn't think there was enough maneuvering room in one of those things, but trust me, there's plenty. We made out in a recliner at the apartment and desecrated this rug that had a crucifix painted on it at the house.
Basically if we weren't dancing or laughing we were having sex or making out. Sometimes there were people watching, sometimes we were alone, sometimes we added a guy into the mix, sometimes we added a girl into the mix. We were too much on a party high to care. One time Rachel wasn't even there. Well, it had been at her urging that I fool around with the guy I ended up with. She said he was the best guy she'd ever been with and let me tell you, she was not kidding. Looking back, he had to have been a gynecologist or something, because when he got his hands down my pants, his knowledge of the female anatomy was way more than your average guy. And this guy had lips on him like I'd never known. If I had to compare him to Rachel? I still don't know who would win. I didn't think anyone could compete with Rach in that department either, but there was a lot I had left to learn that week.
Then later, I think it was at the other club, Rachel and I had gone into a feeling frenzy and we actually didn't make it to a stall. I was leaning back on my hands, ass on a counter as Rach was doing things to me that I didn't know a human being could do. Suddenly, I was being kissed in two places at once. My eyes shot open because I knew that it wasn't Rachel's tongue that had just entered my mouth, she was busy elsewhere and I don't care how talented that girl is, she can't be two places at once. Turned out this totally hot chick had decided to get in on the action. At one of my cries Rach looked up at me and then to hot chick, grinned wickedly, and promptly got back to what she had been doing oh so well. I think she offered hot chick a hand as well. I could have tried protesting, but I was too drunk on pleasure to care anymore. Wild rides and good times. Too bad hot chick disappeared after that. I learned an important lesson from her. God made a mistake in only giving us two hands. Four work so much better.
Anyway, after sleeping everything off, yes actually sleeping, we got up and went to another club and put on a slight show there. We would dance and do little strip teases with each other that everyone was whooping and cheering on. On the last day we were both wiped but we were also both getting back in the mood. The strip tease was moving quickly to a porn show at this other club, but something happened and the place was suddenly being closed. I caught a whiff of whatever the something was and agreed that it was time to go. A sewage pipe had bust and we had to get out of there before we were dancing in vomit and shit. We had done a lot of kinky things that week, but dude, there are limits. I yanked her out of the club and we practically fell out of the door, kissing passionately until a cop tapped me on the shoulder and said to get a room. Or let him watch.
He looked like a big greasy doughnut and despite that I might have let him, but that would have killed the mood faster than the raw sewage inside. I caught a street sign and muttered that we were close to my place and Scott still wasn't due back for a day or so. Rachel stood up hand in hand we took off running.
I didn't think we were going to make it before we got to the shack. We were kissing, grabbing, and pulling at what little clothing remained as soon as we were inside of the junkyard. It was a good thing that there wasn't a customer waiting or else he would have gotten the show of a lifetime. We flew through the door of the little shack, landing on the bed. It may not have been in the midst of a party, but hell, two can have as much fun as twenty or thirty or forty or fifty or, well, you get the point.
In my opinion we had the best sex of our entire relationship that night. Partly because we were both still sober and could remember it. It was all lips, teeth, tongue, and skin. It seemed like we had sex that night almost as hard as we'd partied the entire week. After countless hours of pleasure she and I both passed out from exhaustion.
I woke up to light shining in my face and rather orgasmic feelings running through my body. Rachel was at it again and I was in no position to object. Her hands ran over my body as her tongue explored inside of me. I flipped us so that I was straddling her before she could finish the job and sat up, giving her a full view of m chest. I grinned down at her and she leaned up and our lips met in a flash of passion. Erotic, sweet, and dark all in one. Her mouth descended to my neck before she let up a bit. "Hello Scott." She purred.
My body stiffened at his name. I had pushed all thoughts of him and the garage as far away as I could that week and when I turned my head around and saw the look on his face mixed with the exhaustion of travel, all of the reasons I'd pushed him out of my mind came back.
"You joining or going?" Rachel asked, her hands running up and down my naked back, kissing my neck softly.
I looked down a moment and then stared into Scott's eyes, "Join the fun or get out." I went back to focusing on Rachel after that. It bugged me that Scott had seen us, and I didn't get that. I mean, Rachel and I had fucked each other with a whole crowd watching and that didn't bother me. But Scott. Whatever. Rachel knew that I was distracted even though we kept going.
She was sweet about it though. After we fooled around more than a handful of times that day she got out, got dressed, gave me a soft kiss good-bye and left me to sleep off a weeks worth of sleep deprivation.
Rachel had been telling me how at the end of the summer her crew did this 24/7 party thing where they just went from rave to rave, following the parties around until everyone collapsed from exhaustion. She said last time she made it six days and then passed out. Woke up in an alley wearing newspaper and Mardis Gras beads. Since the tongue and tattoo incident I was more into remembering what happened the night before, but still, when Rach turned those sparkling eyes on me and grinned, promising me a good time, who was I to resist?
I asked her why the hell we should wait for summer to end before we took on the night life of Post-Pulse LA. She thought it was an excellent idea. My only problem was being able to get away from work. I'm sure Scott would have just grunted and not cared if I disappeared for days on end, but I'd had people bail on me before and I wasn't going to be like that. Hitting a bunch of parties was all well and good, but I'm still not about disappearing without warning. And no matter how much those eyes of Rachel's shone, I couldn't bring myself to do anything of the sort. Scott wouldn't have said anything about it, but we got in several decent-sized projects and I wasn't leaving him to do all of the work. I was improving by leaps and bounds to the point where I was thinking about taking on a total restoration all on my own. If I took off, Scott's job would become a hundred times harder to meet the deadlines.
But sooner than later it was hitting the end of summer and business was slowing around the garage. I could feel the itch to hit the party scene for days on end from all the work Scott and I had been busy with for the summer, not to mention the fact that Scott was good for conversation only if an exhaust system needed to be welded together. Maybe it was just comparison, but I would have sworn he had been talking less and grunting more since Rach and I hooked up. It was a good thing we had a rhythm down in the garage since we had most communication down to unintelligible noises and pointing. I almost killed him one day when I realized that I had made a noise close to a grunt and he handed me the 9/16 ratchet which was what I had wanted. I was becoming like him. Had to get out of there. But he wasn't coming out from under the hood for anything.
The funk was bugging me, even if I wasn't letting it show. So much so that I even tried cooking once. That wound up being a bad move. We sat mostly in silence and what little conversation we mustered surrounded the fabulous topic of cars and a project that was winding to a close. Let me tell you, it wasn't worth flashing the one guy to get some more candles. It wouldn't have been worth it to spit on the guy. He might have liked that just as much though. The most interesting part was when Scott mentioned that the buyer wanted the car delivered to him in San Diego.
I almost suggested that I could follow him there and then we could drive back, but that idea passed quickly when I thought about us driving back for hours in dead silence. Even if I brought Rachel along it wouldn't be worth Scott sitting in the back sulking and scowling and killing the whole fun of a road trip. Well, in reality, the second the radio got cranked up and junk food got ripped open and flew all over the place, he would insist on driving with everyone face forward, hands in their own laps the rest of the way. That quickly ended my desire to offer to drive along. So he decided he'd contact Mr. T.A. Barron and see if he could arrange a ride back somehow since he figured that Barron owed him a few favors. Barron agreed since his new mistress didn't like the color of her car and Scott could take care of that quickly while he was there, everything being provided of course, and Scott got to ride back in a sleek black limo. What a waste. Bet he wouldn't think about draining the bar and having six of his friends come along to make it worthwhile.
The minute my attempt at reinstating conversation between Scott and I, otherwise known as dinner, was over I ran to find Rachel and give her the good news. As Scott drove away, me and Rachel's "Party Till You Drop" plans were put into effect. We hit the party trail and kept on keeping on. She said it was wild in the past while filling me in on details of how it loud and fast it was and there was nothing but drinking, dancing, and booty day after day after day. If anything, she downplayed it. Seriously, it was...there are no words to even describe it. It was really that intense.
We hit the first party within an hour of Scott hitting the road. I knew I was in for it full time and full throttle when someone handed me a drink on the way to the dance floor. This was completely foreign from the other parties and raves. There was no easing into these. You just jumped headfirst and hoped there was still water in the pool or that there was someone out there that would catch you. The part of me that was so repressed while in the garage with Scott was forgotten and everything underneath shone like a bright flame. It was great.
The lights flashed, music blasted all around the half-naked, and sometimes fully naked bodies that turned and twisted against each other. I might have been dancing with one person or ten, I didn't know. It was the blow out of all blow outs. Everyone was there too, all of the summer punks, the gothic gangs, and even the preppy kids going to college or whatever mommy and daddy were paying for during the rest of the year were there, determined to fit the next nine months of having to be restrained into one wild week. What losers. I got the party this week and I would get the next one the next weekend.
Each party melted into the other, hours and minutes lost meaning. It was almost as if time ceased to mean anything. It felt like that first big project for Mr. Barron that Scott and I did where I was so focused on something that nothing else mattered. Except this time it was nothing but fun, partying and sex. Oh, and there wasn't that pesky little worry that hit men would be sent if we selected the wrong color for the floor mats. In the whole week, there was exactly one serious moment. Drugs were flowing all over the place, and as much as everyone said it was great and I had to try sniffing this or smoking that, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Bad memories or something. Rach and I had crashed in this chair and a guy offered her a hit of something. She went to take it and I jumped up and told her that if she was going to do that, I was out. She almost laughed and then realized I was dead serious. She shrugged and handed it back, saying she wasn't going to miss out on having me for a whole week for something she could do without. Then she licked her lips and said she knew a better way to get high and pulled me back in her lap. Fifteen minutes later, it was my drug of choice as well.
Except for that moment, the week was one huge party beyond anything I'd ever experienced. I know we started out late in the morning and staggered over to some other building when it was night. What night, I never knew. I ended up crashing on a couch in the back for a while close to dawn and woke up to find Rachel and some guy leaning over my back. Rach had drawn a tic- tac-toe board on my back and was playing with the guy. Once she saw that I was up, tic-tac-toe was forgotten and we hit the scene again. A blur of music and bodies and dancing comes to mind. Although, I know that Rachel took a nap at some point under a table. And that I only know because I was dancing on top of it and then dove off and everyone landed on the floor, laughing and howling. When I glanced over I saw her curled up and went to check to see if she was okay. She woke up a few minutes later and decided we were going to jet out of the place. Then we were at some guy's apartment until the stoners crashed it and a herd of us then went over to some chick's house. That was the time the cops showed up. I'm not sure why they showed up, maybe it was the music, maybe it was someone who called and asked about the two girls whooping, dancing, and having sex on the roof. Anyway the cops came, Rachel and I got down off of the roof , and then we were back at another club.
And booty? The roof thing didn't even touch on that part of the experience. Rachel had promised. And oh, did Rachel deliver. Before we were even on the dance floor at the first club she was all over me, feeling me up and grinding into me as we made our way to the floor. Next thing I knew, we were in a stall in the bathroom, going at it for all we were worth. You wouldn't think there was enough maneuvering room in one of those things, but trust me, there's plenty. We made out in a recliner at the apartment and desecrated this rug that had a crucifix painted on it at the house.
Basically if we weren't dancing or laughing we were having sex or making out. Sometimes there were people watching, sometimes we were alone, sometimes we added a guy into the mix, sometimes we added a girl into the mix. We were too much on a party high to care. One time Rachel wasn't even there. Well, it had been at her urging that I fool around with the guy I ended up with. She said he was the best guy she'd ever been with and let me tell you, she was not kidding. Looking back, he had to have been a gynecologist or something, because when he got his hands down my pants, his knowledge of the female anatomy was way more than your average guy. And this guy had lips on him like I'd never known. If I had to compare him to Rachel? I still don't know who would win. I didn't think anyone could compete with Rach in that department either, but there was a lot I had left to learn that week.
Then later, I think it was at the other club, Rachel and I had gone into a feeling frenzy and we actually didn't make it to a stall. I was leaning back on my hands, ass on a counter as Rach was doing things to me that I didn't know a human being could do. Suddenly, I was being kissed in two places at once. My eyes shot open because I knew that it wasn't Rachel's tongue that had just entered my mouth, she was busy elsewhere and I don't care how talented that girl is, she can't be two places at once. Turned out this totally hot chick had decided to get in on the action. At one of my cries Rach looked up at me and then to hot chick, grinned wickedly, and promptly got back to what she had been doing oh so well. I think she offered hot chick a hand as well. I could have tried protesting, but I was too drunk on pleasure to care anymore. Wild rides and good times. Too bad hot chick disappeared after that. I learned an important lesson from her. God made a mistake in only giving us two hands. Four work so much better.
Anyway, after sleeping everything off, yes actually sleeping, we got up and went to another club and put on a slight show there. We would dance and do little strip teases with each other that everyone was whooping and cheering on. On the last day we were both wiped but we were also both getting back in the mood. The strip tease was moving quickly to a porn show at this other club, but something happened and the place was suddenly being closed. I caught a whiff of whatever the something was and agreed that it was time to go. A sewage pipe had bust and we had to get out of there before we were dancing in vomit and shit. We had done a lot of kinky things that week, but dude, there are limits. I yanked her out of the club and we practically fell out of the door, kissing passionately until a cop tapped me on the shoulder and said to get a room. Or let him watch.
He looked like a big greasy doughnut and despite that I might have let him, but that would have killed the mood faster than the raw sewage inside. I caught a street sign and muttered that we were close to my place and Scott still wasn't due back for a day or so. Rachel stood up hand in hand we took off running.
I didn't think we were going to make it before we got to the shack. We were kissing, grabbing, and pulling at what little clothing remained as soon as we were inside of the junkyard. It was a good thing that there wasn't a customer waiting or else he would have gotten the show of a lifetime. We flew through the door of the little shack, landing on the bed. It may not have been in the midst of a party, but hell, two can have as much fun as twenty or thirty or forty or fifty or, well, you get the point.
In my opinion we had the best sex of our entire relationship that night. Partly because we were both still sober and could remember it. It was all lips, teeth, tongue, and skin. It seemed like we had sex that night almost as hard as we'd partied the entire week. After countless hours of pleasure she and I both passed out from exhaustion.
I woke up to light shining in my face and rather orgasmic feelings running through my body. Rachel was at it again and I was in no position to object. Her hands ran over my body as her tongue explored inside of me. I flipped us so that I was straddling her before she could finish the job and sat up, giving her a full view of m chest. I grinned down at her and she leaned up and our lips met in a flash of passion. Erotic, sweet, and dark all in one. Her mouth descended to my neck before she let up a bit. "Hello Scott." She purred.
My body stiffened at his name. I had pushed all thoughts of him and the garage as far away as I could that week and when I turned my head around and saw the look on his face mixed with the exhaustion of travel, all of the reasons I'd pushed him out of my mind came back.
"You joining or going?" Rachel asked, her hands running up and down my naked back, kissing my neck softly.
I looked down a moment and then stared into Scott's eyes, "Join the fun or get out." I went back to focusing on Rachel after that. It bugged me that Scott had seen us, and I didn't get that. I mean, Rachel and I had fucked each other with a whole crowd watching and that didn't bother me. But Scott. Whatever. Rachel knew that I was distracted even though we kept going.
She was sweet about it though. After we fooled around more than a handful of times that day she got out, got dressed, gave me a soft kiss good-bye and left me to sleep off a weeks worth of sleep deprivation.