drive-2
12:05 a.m.<>2001-03-31
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This is a continuation of the last post. If you missed the first part of the story and want to slog through it, I suggest you scroll down to the bottom of this page and hit "previous."
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Drive, Part 2
I was stunned. Stunned at what Samantha had just told me about her and Josh. Stunned at the way she was quite clearly getting off on telling me the story. Stunned at my own reaction, the hot rush of desire tightening my throat as I pictured the scene she had so vividly described for me. My friend Sam. The cute one. The modest one. The sheltered one. Naked under a blanket, speeding through the hills at night. In a car driven by a naked gay man. A naked, erect gay man.
The image was almost comical when reduced to that level. But I didn't feel like smiling as I pondered what Sam's motivations might be for being so up front about her escapade with Josh. I decided that I had to know how the story ended.
"So what happened after that?" I asked. "Did you hook up with him? Pull to the side of the road and get it on? Make him see what he's been missing by swearing off women?"
I tried to affect a lighthearted tone, the bantering one that Sam and I normally used with each other. I did not want her to know how strongly our conversation was affecting me. But Sam's voice was low and distant as she stared pensively into the gloom beyond the radius of the headlights.
"I wanted to," she replied softly. "He knows how much I like him, I've never made a secret of it. And I thought he was trying to, you know, tell me something with all of the taking-off-the-clothes business. I thought he was finally saying that he liked me back. Especially when I saw his ... how his ..."
She made the same gesture I had seen her perform earlier, waving ambivalently toward her crotch as if she was physically unable to even utter the words "dick" or "penis". I nodded to show that I understood what she meant.
"But it was just Josh, playing around as usual," she went on. "I went to put my hand on his leg, but he just grabbed my hand and kissed it. He didn't say anything, but I could tell he didn't want to ... you know ... fool around or anything."
"That must have hurt," I commented quietly.
Her voice had lost its even tone when she replied. "I was just confused, right?" she said in frustration. "I've never done anything like that before, and I really liked it and everything, but ... I don't know. It felt like he was just playing with me."
I debated whether to even open my mouth to voice my next thought. What the hell, I decided.
"I know how you feel," I said with a rueful smile. "I mean, I know exactly how you felt."
She turned to look at me fully then, and her lips curved upward in a smile that made my stomach lurch and broke my heart. She reached over and took my right hand gently in her left and gave me a squeeze. Neither of us said anything. I came as close to telling her my true feelings for her as I ever would. And she, in the least hurtful way possible, told me that we would never be anything more than just friends. We drove on through the night in silence, hand in hand.
"So you wanna hear the rest of it?" she asked after several minutes had passed. She spoke briskly, as if to dispel the somber feeling that had fallen between us. Her eyes and nose crinkled as she broke into a sly grin.
"Huh? Oh, I thought that was the end of it," I mumbled, trying to break myself out of my funk. Sam shook her head, still grinning mischievously.
"So spill," I said, arching an eyebrow in mock irritation.
"Well, once I realized that Josh didn't wanna do anything with me, I got really pissed off. I mean, I was butt naked, next to a guy I really like, who was also butt naked, and I couldn't do anything about it. And I was, like, crazy-minded. I couldn't show up at my parents' house in the middle of the night and try to have a normal conversation with them when I was all, like ..."
"Horny?" I supplied.
Sam shrugged. "I hate that word, but ... yeah, I was naked and horny. So, Josh and I hadn't said anything to each other in a while, and finally he pulls to the side of the road again and starts pulling on his clothes. He didn't even get out of the car this time, he just pulled his jeans on right there in the driver's seat. And he said something like, 'well, that was fun!' or whatever, and I put my own clothes back on, and it's off down the road we go.
"We still had at least two hours' of drive time left, so I reclined the seat and pulled the blanket up over me as if I was going to sleep."
In the dim green glow of the dashboard display, I saw Sam wink. "But I wasn't exactly sleeping," she purred.
"You didn't!" My mouth was agape.
"Au contraire, mon frere," she replied smoothly.
"No way."
"Way." She was grinning from ear to ear now, caught between pure delight and sheer embarrassment.
I was at a loss for words. Almost. "Did he notice?"
"Nope. I was very discreet under that blanket."
"And did you ... " this time it was I who was reduced to making hand gestures that resembled, I don't know, a pod bursting open or something.
Sam nodded emphatically. "Oh yeah," she said. "I thought Josh would notice when I finally - you know - but I was quiet."
Suddenly I was aroused all over again, and overcome with curiosity. I asked her questions in rapid succession.
"Are you normally not quiet?"
"I'm usually pretty vocal, yeah."
"Do you, er, masturbate often?"
"Sure, sometimes. Not as much as I used to, though. When I was a kid, I would do it all the time."
"All the time?"
"Two, three times a day, sometimes. I did it in the bath, I did it before going to sleep, I did it when I changed after coming home from church. I thought I had invented something totally awesome that no one in the world knew about but me. What did I know? I was just a kid, and it's not like I had anyone to talk to about it." She seemed amused by recalling the younger Sam's dogged pursuit of self-gratification.
I closed my eyes for the briefest of moments and allowed the image to flicker through my mind. A young Sam, lying on her bed in her sunlit room, rubbing herself between her thin legs with her rumpled Sunday dress lying on the floor with her shoes and white stockings. Shaking my head briskly, I returned to the present moment and the road in front of me.
"So did you ever tell Josh what you did?" I asked.
Sam shook her head. "Nobody knows. Nobody knows but you." She looked at me steadily. "I hope you don't mind that I told you all this," she said. "I just had to tell someone, and you're the person I trust most in the world."
"Thank you for your trust," I replied as un-ironically as possible. We soon fell to talking about other things as we continued our journey south.
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Looking back from the vantage point of several years, I can treasure the friendship we had, and the trust Sam placed in me. At the time, though, I was a single raging hormone, and I all I could do was curse whatever cruel deity had forced me to undergo such torment from the girl I was so hot for. Writing it all down now, I can actually taste once again the choking lust I felt for Sam during that long drive into Virginia.
I haven't seen Sam in quite some time. The last I heard, she's in the Air Force and is going out with some hunky military guy. Well, I wish her all the best. I hope I get invited to the wedding. She's probably forgotten all about that night drive by now, which is fine with me. I have no complaints about how things turned out.
But sometimes, when I'm lying awake at night, I think about what it must have been like for her, there in the car with Josh that faraway evening in Virginia.
Slowly, Sam unbuttons her jeans under the blanket. Taking care not to move in such a way that Josh might see her, she draws one corner of her fly aside, so that the zipper opens. How tight it must have been for her fingers, having to slide under her jeans, under the waistband of her panties.
How hot she must have felt to herself, after all the time spent getting worked up earlier by her and Josh's mutual nudity. How wet she must have been, as she slid a finger - her right middle finger? her left? - into herself and began to rub ever so softly.
Did her breath catch in her throat, almost loud enough for Josh to hear, when she touched her slick clitoris? Did her hips give a jerk as she felt the pleasure spike? Did they undulate slowly and insistently, like Jodie's do whenever she masturbates, as if her hips had a will of their own? Did Sam have to bite her lip to keep from crying out? Did she leave a wet spot on the blanket? Did her scent fill the car? How could she be doing this next to Josh, without him suspecting a thing?
I don't know the answers to these questions. But those times I'm lying awake at night, I like to stare up at the cieling, and think about all the possibilities.
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