Текст книги "Baking and Babies"
Автор книги: Tara Sivec
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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 15 страниц)
Chapter 16
– Fuck Betty White –
Marco
“Sorry, no take backs. You already said you’d kill Demi Moore, marry Taylor Swift, and fuck Betty White,” Drew reminds me.
“I blurted it out without thinking!”
“Hide yo wives, hide yo grannies!” Drew cheers.
“My wife is going to be your child’s grandmother. Do you want to fuck her too? Or are you more selective with your grandmother fucking?” Jim asks.
Oh, for the love of all that is holy…playing Fuck, Marry, Kill seemed like a much better idea than being forced to watch that weird as shit turtle porn video again. Who knew turtles were so vocal during orgasm?
“I do not want to sleep with any grandmothers!” I protest.
Thankfully, the camera crew decided to pack it up and go home after Drew tried to get the meerkat to eat live goldfish out of the edible underwear he put on, and none of this is being recorded for the world to see.
“Alright, I’ve got Friendship Rocks, Call of the Cutie, and Dog and Pony Show. Which one will it be, boys?” Tyler asks, walking into the room with three DVDs in his hands.
“Ooooh, definitely Dog and Pony Show,” Drew says with smile and a nod.
“We are not watching that stupid My Little Pony shit,” Jim tells Tyler, grabbing the DVDs from his hands and chucking them across the room.
“Wait, MLP movies? Wow, that is NOT what I thought Dog and Pony Show was,” Drew mutters.
“What the hell else are we going to do, then? Thanks to Drew we don’t have a meerkat to play with anymore,” Tyler complains.
“How the hell was I supposed to know? Jesus, you give a meerkat one sip of beer and you’d think I tried to poison him with the way that stick-up-his-ass zookeeper acted,” Drew mutters.
“I’m pretty sure beer IS poisonous to an animal like that,” Carter tells him.
“Excuse me for not being up-to-date on my meerkat knowledge,” Drew grumbles. “It’s not my fault the little guy liked it and wanted more. He was thirsty after all of that underwear candy. Fucking Tom Brady…”
Drew notices all of us staring at him in confusion and he shrugs. “I didn’t feel like Sunshine Wiener Schnitzel was a good name for him, so I changed it to Tom Brady. It’s always Tom Brady’s fault.”
We sit here for a few quiet minutes, staring into our bottles of beer.
“This is pathetic. Are we really this old that we don’t know how to throw a good bachelor party anymore?” Carter asks.
“It’s all Liz’s fault for not letting me have strippers,” Drew complains. “Stupid strippers and their stupid snail trails…”
“I think we should watch some student/teacher porn in honor of Marco and Molly,” Tyler suggests with a wag of his eyebrows. “I bet you could tell us a few stories about bending that one over your desk and spanking her with a ruler, am I right?”
He nudges Jim with his elbow and gives him a smirk.
“I bet I could tell a story about how I shoved my entire arm up your ass, how about that?” Jim replies.
“Awww, no fair!” Drew complains. “I was going to tell that story later. No matter what anyone tells you, KY Tingling Jelly shouldn’t go in your ass. I was shitting fire for three days, let me tell you.”
I quickly chug the rest of my beer, hoping the alcohol kicks in soon and erases everything from my mind that happened tonight. Well, except the kiss. Damn, that fucking kiss almost made me come in my pants. As soon as Molly walked out the door all I could think about was kissing her. Shit, from the moment I open my eyes every morning until I fall asleep, that’s all I think about. I couldn’t stand going one more second without knowing what kissing her would be like instead of just dreaming about it. I ran outside as fast as I could and I couldn’t wipe the goofy grin from my face seeing her still standing next to the limo.
God, those lips. That tongue. That fucking mouth that tasted like sweet, crisp apples, just like I wondered. I think I might’ve been better off not knowing. Now that my suspicions are confirmed, I’m never going to be able to get rid of my hard-on. I want to strip her naked and taste every inch of her skin. I want to bury myself inside of her until we both lose our minds. I want to hear her scream my name and claw at my back until…
“What are your immediate future plans with my daughter?” Jim asks, pulling me out of my horny thoughts and hoping I didn’t mutter any of them out loud.
“Um…to spend time with her, and…uh, yeah. Hang out and stuff,” I tell him uncomfortably. I don’t really think he’d appreciate me telling him all the ways I want to fuck his daughter.
“I mean, are you planning on making an honest woman out of her and proposing?” he questions. “It’s the least you could do after you defiled her and ruined her for any other man.”
Wow, really? And here I thought Jim was starting to take a liking to me. What the hell is wrong with my dick and sperm that he thinks it would defile Molly? I’ll have you know my sperm is very nice, and I’ve gotten quite a few compliments on how appealing to the eye my penis is.
“She’s not defiled,” I grumble. “The Desoto sperm is filled with all sorts of good stuff.”
“My sperm is filled with pineapple. I eat two pineapples a day leading up to blow job day,” Drew comments.
“She’s twenty years old and just finished college. What man is going to want a woman tied down with another man’s child?” Jim asks, folding his arms and glaring at me.
“Um, how about me, the father of the child?”
The fake child, but whatever. I know I freaked out in the beginning and couldn’t imagine being with her if she were having someone else’s kid, but things have changed since then. If Molly really were pregnant by someone else, it wouldn’t matter. I’d find a way to deal with the knowledge that she had someone else’s gross spooge all up in her, and I’d deal with everything that comes along with helping her raise that child, because in the end, she’s still the same girl I’ve wanted for two years. She’s still Molly and even if we don’t know each other well, even if tonight was the first time I kissed her and there’s still so much I need to learn about her, she’s gotten into my heart and under my skin, and I’m not going to let anything ruin that.
“At least Gavin has the good sense to wrap his dick up to prevent shit like this, because he and Charlotte are smart and they don’t want kids,” Jim informs me.
“That’s what you think,” I laugh, realizing immediately I should have kept my mouth shut.
Everyone looks at me funny and I quickly blurt out the first thing I can think of.
“I mean, I wrap my shit up too, but accidents still happen. I even double-bag it. That’s right, I wear two condoms so suck it!” I tell them. “But you know what, sperm is conniving and vindictive, and if they want to chew their way through two layers of latex, they will sure as shit gnaw through that stuff and give you the finger while their little spermy tails are moving them right along. Fucking sperm and their spermy tails…”
Realizing I sound like a complete moron, I slam my empty bottle on top of the coffee table and grab another beer from the ice bucket in the middle. I down the entire thing, wiping my hand across my mouth when I finish.
Tyler decides to break the tension in the room by walking over to Jim and getting down on one knee in front of him.
“Jim, give me your hand,” he states, holding his palm out.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Jim complains.
“Just give me your hand, I need to ask you something.”
Jim looks at him in disgust, and then smacks Tyler’s hand away.
“Fine,” Tyler huffs. “We’ll do it your way.”
He clears his throat and lifts his chin, resting his hands on top of Jim’s knees.
“Jim, I’d like to officially ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage,” Tyler tells him confidently.
“Fuck, I think I’m going to cry,” Drew mumbles with a sniffle, rubbing his fists against his eyes.
“Get the fuck off your knee and remove your hands from my legs,” Jim growls.
“I’m sorry, Jim, but I need to do this the right way. I want you to see that I will spend as much time on my knees as it takes to please you.”
Drew laughs and holds out his fist for Carter to bump. “Ha ha, that’s what she said!”
Jim glares at him and Drew gives him the finger.
“Oh, fuck your face. Like I was the only one thinking it.”
“I can’t believe you’re going to get married,” Gavin says quietly. “What happened to bros before hos?”
Tyler snorts. “Really, dude? You’re getting married in like, a few weeks. You already made the decision to quit me for a ho so it’s time for me to get my own life and my own ho.”
Jim snaps his fingers in front of Tyler’s face. “Hey, asshole. The hos you’re referring to are my daughters.”
Gavin and Tyler ignore him and continue with their own weird conversation.
“I didn’t quit you, I just asked the love of my life to marry me. I’m sorry if that gets your panties in a twist,” Gavin complains.
“I wore Ava’s panties ONCE and you were supposed to keep that a secret, fucker!” Tyler yells angrily. “You’re my best friend, and in some circumstances you will come first, but not when it has to do with marriage, which you should understand. I’m sorry, but I’m picking the ho this time.”
Jim punches Tyler in the arm and pulls back his fist to do it again when Tyler holds up his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Ho is a term of endearment, I swear!”
“Whatever,” Gavin grumbles. “It’s not like I’d marry you anyway. It just would have been nice to be asked.”
Tyler gives him a smile, pounds his fist against his heart and points at Gavin. “You’re my boy, Blue Balls.”
Gavin does the same with his fist and Tyler turns back around on his knees to face Jim.
“So, do I have your permission to marry Ava? I’ve already made the calculations and I only need to sell two more ounces of weed to be able to buy her the ring she wants, and since I have roughly thirty ounces heading to Madelyn’s house—”
“Twenty-five,” Drew interrupts. “Sorry, that shit is full of sorcery. It kept calling my name and I couldn’t resist. Speaking of that, you’re out of Cheetos and Fruity Pebbles.”
Jim sighs, shoving Tyler’s hands off his knees. “You didn’t knock her up, did you? Do I have to get my shotgun?”
Tyler quickly shakes his head. “No, sir. We are extremely careful. I always wear a condom, and when I don’t, I pull out faster than a roadrunner speeding away from dynamite. No sperm has touched your daughter’s ovaries, I can promise you that.”
Tyler looks over his shoulder and gives me a smirk. If he wasn’t so much like a girl and hitting girls is frowned upon, I’d punch him right in the face.
“Get off your damn knees, dumbass. I’ll let you marry Ava as long as you never use the words sperm and your daughter’s ovaries in a sentence again. Ever. If you even think those words in my presence, I will kill you and make it look like an accident,” Jim threatens.
Tyler pushes himself up from the floor and leans in to hug Jim, who immediately holds his hand up and presses it against Tyler’s face to hold him off.
“Stop trying to hug me.”
“Can I call you dad, then?” Tyler asks, his words muffled behind Jim’s palm.
“Not if you want to keep your dick from being shoved down your throat.”
My phone vibrates in my back pocket and I quickly pull it out and step out of the room while Drew runs over to Jim and Tyler and tries to make a group hug happen.
When I get out the hallway, I look down and smile when I see a text from Molly.
Send me a penis of yur picture :)
I laugh when I see she screwed up her words and must have managed to sneak some alcohol at the party, and then my laughter dies when I realize what it is she’s trying to ask. She wants me to send her a picture of my penis. My heart starts racing and my palms start sweating as I run down the hallway to the closest bathroom.
Flipping on the light switch and locking the door behind me, I turn in circles trying to figure out where I can stand that will give me the best lighting. It’s not very bright in here and there are too many dark shadows. This is not going to make my penis look the best that he can be, dammit! I need a spotlight or a bulb with a minimum of seventy-five watts for optimum photographic beauty.
Realizing I’m not going to get what I need in here, I see another door by the shower. Walking across the large bathroom, I open the door and see that it leads into a bedroom. Poking my head into the room, I see exactly what I need in the far corner. I move quickly across the carpeted floor, unbuttoning my jeans as I go. I don’t have a lot of time to do this before the guys will wonder where I am.
I close my eyes and play back the kiss out in the yard, remembering the feel of Molly’s tongue against mine and the soft little moans she made into my mouth. I need a chubby for this photo to really impress Molly and a chubby is what I’m now holding in my hands thanks to that quick little trip down memory lane.
It would be great if I could say that my girlfriend’s father didn’t walk in on me two minutes later sitting at his wife’s make-up table with the bright lights lining the mirror highlighting my dick in one hand while I held my cell phone pointed down at it in another, staring at a framed photo of his wife which I swear was a total accident, but that would be a lie.
While I apply pressure to my bloody, split lip and wonder if I still have the ability to eat solid foods, Drew sits down next to me on the floor of the bedroom. He hands me a bag of frozen peas to hold against my eye, giving me a sympathetic look.
“Don’t feel bad, dude, we’ve all spanked it a few times to a picture of Liz, she’s hot.”
Fucking Betty White. I blame her for all of this.
Chapter 17
– Lips, Tongue, Penis, Suck –
Molly
“Oh, my God! Are you drunk?!” Charlotte whispers hysterically.
I sway a little bit as the room spins, grabbing onto the edge of the bar in the kitchen of the ginormous suite we’ve been celebrating in.
“Bugger off, you daft cow!”
“Why are you speaking with a British accent? What the hell is happening right now?” Charlotte complains, grabbing my arms and giving me a little shake.
“I’m practicing for when I travel the world. I want to fit in with the locals in London. Top o’ the mornin’ to ya, eh?!”
Charlotte shakes her head at me, all three of them. “That was Irish and I think Canadian. How much alcohol have you snuck?”
I hold up one hand and spread out all five fingers.
“Seven many,” I mumble, trying to focus on my fingers and wondering why we have so many. Why five and not four? Do we really need a ring finger? It holds no purpose aside from giving us a place to put rings.
“You’re lucky mom and Aunt Claire haven’t come back yet from apologizing to the strippers and aren’t witnessing this right now,” she mutters.
“Why aren’t you out there with them?” Ava asks, coming up beside us. “You’re the one who puked all over the poor guy’s stomach.”
Charlotte rolls her eyes and puts her hands on her hips. “I already apologized to him and offered to pay for a new thong. He was just so greasy and he kept slapping his flaccid junk against my knee, and it reminded me of bologna and I couldn’t help it.”
Luckily Charlotte was able to play off her stripper-inducing puke by batting her eyelashes and giggling about being soooooo drunk. I had already snuck into the bathroom for the tenth time to take a shot by the time the three hip-thrusting, dick-dangling men showed up so watching her vomit made me run right to the bathroom and purge the demons. Everyone had a good laugh about how my “baby” didn’t like strippers.
“WOOOHOOO bring back the naked men! Charlotte, why aren’t you drinking?!” Grandma Madelyn yells, dancing her way past us and sloshing her drink all over the floor.
Charlotte holds up her flask of water and takes a sip, which makes Grandma throw her arms up in the air and shout again, throwing the contents of her drink all over the wall in front of her.
“Jesus, who knew Grandma was like a Gremlin? You feed her booze after midnight and she turns into crazy drunk monster,” Charlotte mutters.
“So, did you text Marco? What did you say?” Ava asks, looking away from grandma as she gets up on the coffee table and starts thrusting her hips to the loud music blaring through the sound system in the living room.
“I said I’d like a spot of tea while I get snookered,” I giggle.
“Why do you have a British accent? Charlotte, why does she have a British accent?” Ava asks, looking away from me to question our sober sister.
Charlotte shrugs. “It appears our sister turns British when she gets drunk.”
“Oh, are you guys talking about foreign languages?” Aunt Jenny asks as she stumbles over to us, drinking the last bit of martini from her glass before smacking it down on the bar behind me.
“I don’t get why we can’t just all speak American,” She complains. “You’ve got British and Alaskan and Canadian and Texan…why do we need all these different languages mucking everything up?”
Charlotte puts her arm around Aunt Jenny and gives her a squeeze. “Oh, Aunt Jenny. You always know how to make me feel like the smartest person in the room.”
Aunt Jenny beams at Charlotte and gives her a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “I love you too, Charlotte!”
The three of us watch her stumble over to Grandma and get on top of the coffee table with her.
“Alright, back to the important matter at hand,” Ava says, turning back to face me. “What did you say to Marco? Did you text him what I told you to?”
I pull my phone out of my back pocket and hand it to her without a word. She presses a few buttons and her eyes widen in shock.
“You asked him for a picture of his penis?!” she shouts.
“I tried to do what you said and tell him to come up here because I got us a hotel room, but I couldn’t figure out how to type all those words,” I tell her with a shrug.
“Did he send the picture? Let me see!”
Charlotte leans over Ava’s shoulder and we both stare at her.
“What? I’m getting married, I’m not dead. Marco is hot and I’m sure he has an equally hot penis,” Charlotte explains.
“Sorry, no Italian sausage for you tonight, Char. But he did send a close-up picture of a bloody lip, which is a little confusing,” Ava tells us, turning the phone around for me to see.
“Shit. Did dad beat up his face?!” I yell, trying not to sway so I can get a better look at the photo. “Oh, no. His poor, pretty face. I really like that face.”
Ava turns the phone back around and starts rapidly punching buttons.
“What are you doing? Are you telling him to send the picture penis again?” I ask, leaning forward to see what she’s typing.
“Forget about the penis picture, you drunk slut. I’m doing what you were supposed to do and telling him to come up to the hotel.”
My phone makes a whooshing sound, signaling that she sent it. She sets it down on the counter and walks around the bar, grabbing a glass from one of the cupboards and filling it up with water. She slides it across the counter to me and points at it.
“Chug it. Time to sober up, bitch.”
I grab the glass and drink, half of it dribbling down my chin.
“I don’t think this is a good idea. Should she really try and seduce him when she’s drunk?” Charlotte asks as I slam the empty glass down and ask for a refill.
“She needs to be a little drunk or she’ll chicken out. Some liquid courage is always good the first time you touch a penis,” Ava announces, sliding another full glass of water towards me.
“Hey, I’ve touched a penis before. It was the size of a piece of Pez candy, but it was still a living, breathing penis,” I inform them, bringing the glass up to my mouth.
“That doesn’t count. Quinn yanked your hand away as soon as you touched it. Haven’t I always told you guys that it’s never a good idea to have sex with a virgin?” Ava sighs. “They’re so wound up with years of pent-up sperm they’ll blow their load if the wind changes direction. Always go with someone who has experience.”
The water starts churning in my stomach and I quickly put the glass down.
“Marco has experience,” I whisper nervously. “And he’s older. He knows what he’s doing, and I’ve only touched a Pez Penis. What the fuck am I doing?!”
Charlotte smacks my cheek, grabs both of my arms, and turns me to face her. “Snap out of it, woman! There is no instruction manual for this shit. No one knows what they’re doing. You just go with the flow and do what feels right.”
I nod even though everything she’s saying just makes me more nervous. Why isn’t there an instruction manual? Sex For Partial Virgins 101.
The ding of my cell phone sounds from the counter, and I watch as Ava picks it up and smiles.
“Buckle up, slut. There’s a penis with your name on it headed this way. He was already headed down here to see if you needed rescuing so he’s right around the corner. There’s also a partially melted bag of frozen peas and a raw steak coming as well, whatever that means,” Ava states. “I really hope Uncle Drew hasn’t been teaching him anything weird tonight.”
My eyes widen and I whip my head back to face Charlotte.
“What if he wants to have sex with the steak? What if he wants to use the peas on me? Is that a thing? Like some sort of tiny Ben Wa balls or something?” I ask her in a panic. “I knew I never should have left him alone with Uncle Drew! Now he’s got ideas. Weird, kinky ideas that involve frozen food and I don’t know how to have regular sex, let alone frozen food sex!”
My scalp starts to get itchy and sweaty and I can’t remember if I put on deodorant before I left the house. At least I put on good underwear.
“Speaking of Ben Wa balls, did you hear Aunt Jenny had to go to the emergency room AGAIN last week because she got them stuck up in her?” Ava laughs. “Uncle Drew asked if they could have their own parking space. I guess after the nurses spent so much time watching Aunt Jenny waddle across the parking lot while doing lunges, the doctor submitted the request to the hospital board for safety reasons.”
I whimper and my lip starts to quiver.
“I don’t want to go to the emergency room because frozen peas get stuck in my vagina!” I wail.
“Oh, for the love of God,” Charlotte mutters. “Ava, stop freaking her out. Molly, no one’s putting frozen peas up your who-ha. No one says you have to have sex with him tonight. You two need to be alone. Maybe start with something simple. Get to know his penis. See what he likes and take it slow.”
I look at Ava to see if she agrees and find her nodding in approval.
“Slow is good. Try a blowjob. It’s pretty impossible to screw those up. As long as your mouth is on his dick, he’s not going to care about anything else.”
Okay, I can do this. I can put my mouth on a penis. I’ve seen porn and I know how it’s done. In theory.
“Why is it called a blowjob? Don’t you just suck on it? There’s no blowing involved, right?” I ask.
“Since you’re a beginner, just stick with the sucking for now. When you graduate to the advanced class, we’ll discuss the use of popsicles and lube that heats up when you blow on it. For now, just focus on the basics. Lips, tongue, penis, suck. The end,” Ava explains.
“Lips, tongue, penis, suck,” I repeat.
“I thought it was lick, slam, suck?” Grandma asks, dancing by us again and overhearing what I said. “Have I been doing tequila shots wrong tonight?”
She turns away from us when the hotel door opens and my mom and Aunt Claire walk back inside.
“Girls, you didn’t send those strippers away, did you?” Grandma shouts across the room. “I need to borrow one of those boy’s wieners to lips, tongue, penis and suck with my next tequila shot. I guess that’s what the kids are doing these days.”
There’s a loud knock at the door, saving mom and Aunt Claire from trying to respond to Grandma. Aunt Claire moves to the side while my mom opens the door, holding it wide so Marco can come in.
“Oooooh, forget the stripper! I’ll use his penis!” Grandma announces.
“You better get over there and get him to your room before Grandma ruins him,” Charlotte whispers. “There is no coming back from false teeth falling out on your dick during a blow-job.”
She pats me on the back and Ava gives me a thumb’s up. “You got this. Embrace your inner slut.”
I can do this. I can totally do this.
“Did someone order a hot piece of man-meat?” Aunt Claire shouts, sliding her hand around Marco’s elbow and leading him into the room.
Mustering up as much confidence as I can, I raise my hand and smile.
“That would be me. Looks like my delivery came in thirty minutes or less.”
Aunt Claire deposits Marco in front of me, grabbing Charlotte’s arm and waving Ava over to join them as they head into the living room area.
I look up into Marco’s face and I gasp.
“Holy shit! You have a black eye!”
Reaching my hand up, I gently touch the purple area on his upper cheekbone, jerking my hand away when he winces and gasps.
“Oh, no, your lip,” I mutter, my fingers tracing over the crusted blood on his bottom lip.
The picture Ava showed me on my phone didn’t come close to how bad it looks in person. His poor, perfect lip that rocked my world with that kiss earlier is now out of commission.
“It’s okay. It looks worse than it is,” he tells me, placing his hands on my hips and pulling me closer. “Just promise me if your dad asks you to search my place for pictures of your mom that you’ll ignore him and not ask any questions.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about and I don’t care. I’m sad I won’t be getting any more kisses from him tonight, but that just makes what I’m about to do easier. No kisses means I won’t be distracted and I won’t attempt to waste time or try to chicken out before getting to the good stuff.
I’m putting Marco’s penis in my mouth tonight and nothing is going to stop me.
