real
fast. In the barn, I’d place her head on my heaving chest and we’d
lie there on a blanket in the hay. Sometimes she’d protest a bit,
start working her fingers up and under my shirt. I’d catch her
wrists and bring them to my mouth, licking and sucking and tasting
her pulse. She’d start to snake a leg up and over my own, bringing
her hips up against mine, and I’d bring a hand down on her thigh,
pushing it back. Keeping her still.
I didn’t fully
understand why I was doing it. It wasn’t like me at all. Hell, that
was the understatement of the year. I’d never gone slow, never
spent time just kissing. I never stayed long with the same girl. I’d
never been much of a repeat customer. And that was with girls who put
out, went far and fast.
I’d never done this
kind of thing, kissing with our clothes on, murmuring to each other
in the darkness, her listening to my heartbeat as she lay on my
chest, my hand softly stroking the silk of her hair. So tame, but I
wasn’t getting tired of her, not in the least. I felt like we were
just getting started. I wanted it to last as long as it could. Which
wouldn’t be long, I knew that. The bridge we’d built between our
two worlds could crumble in an instant. But I didn’t want to think
about that. I wanted to enjoy it while it lasted, however short that
might be.
And I wanted to treat
her right. Kara was a beautiful, sweet young girl, inside and out.
That was the truth. I’d never been with a girl like her. And
goddamn it but it made me want to be a better man.
I’d never say that
sort of shit out loud. It was the kind of pussy crap you heard guys
say in romantic movies, the kinds that were nothing like real life.
But that’s what was going on in my head. That’s how far gone I
was.
I still had the animal
within me. I was still a beast. I wanted to rip off all of her
clothes and drive my cock into her deep, fucking her hard against the
wall, the tractor, the hay, any surface I could possibly get my hands
on, fucking her relentless and driving into her like an animal again
and again. But I held back.
In those moments, when
we’d calm ourselves down and sit together in the barn nestled in
the hay, sometimes we’d just lie quiet, intertwining our fingers.
Listening to each other breathe, I’d trace the edge of her
fingernails. She’d examine the faint outline of old scars on my
hands.
On the third night,
Kara brought me a piece of obsidian rock she’d found. A couple
hundred miles west there were huge obsidian mines, and every now and
then a shard would work its way over to the ranch.
“For you,” she
said, pressing the cool, smooth black rock into my palm.
“Why’s that?” I
asked, after we’d gotten in a fair share of kissing.
“It’s cool and
black. Like your heart.” She giggled, cracking herself up, like she
was making the funniest joke in the world.
“Is that so?” I had
to smile, watching her.
“Well, isn’t that
what you want me to think?”
“It’s true.” I
looked at her, feeling suddenly sad though I didn’t know why. This
girl was so innocent. Only three years younger than me, there was so
much she didn’t know about the world and I didn’t want her to
find out.
I didn’t want her to
know about mothers who got addicted to crystal meth and left their
sons. About fathers who didn’t even care enough to stick around for
the pregnancy, let alone to greet their newborns. About grown-ups who
took in foster kids just for the cash and then didn’t give them
enough food. About sadistic guards in juvenile detention centers and
the brutal pecking order established on the inside, survival of the
strongest and sickest.
I didn’t want Kara to
know about any of it. She was too good for it. And too good for me. I
knew that as well. We were having our moment, our time in the barn,
but it was nearing September and I’d be gone soon. She and I both
knew it, though we never talked about it.
I knew it was for the
best for her
fast. In the barn, I’d place her head on my heaving chest and we’d
lie there on a blanket in the hay. Sometimes she’d protest a bit,
start working her fingers up and under my shirt. I’d catch her
wrists and bring them to my mouth, licking and sucking and tasting
her pulse. She’d start to snake a leg up and over my own, bringing
her hips up against mine, and I’d bring a hand down on her thigh,
pushing it back. Keeping her still.
I didn’t fully
understand why I was doing it. It wasn’t like me at all. Hell, that
was the understatement of the year. I’d never gone slow, never
spent time just kissing. I never stayed long with the same girl. I’d
never been much of a repeat customer. And that was with girls who put
out, went far and fast.
I’d never done this
kind of thing, kissing with our clothes on, murmuring to each other
in the darkness, her listening to my heartbeat as she lay on my
chest, my hand softly stroking the silk of her hair. So tame, but I
wasn’t getting tired of her, not in the least. I felt like we were
just getting started. I wanted it to last as long as it could. Which
wouldn’t be long, I knew that. The bridge we’d built between our
two worlds could crumble in an instant. But I didn’t want to think
about that. I wanted to enjoy it while it lasted, however short that
might be.
And I wanted to treat
her right. Kara was a beautiful, sweet young girl, inside and out.
That was the truth. I’d never been with a girl like her. And
goddamn it but it made me want to be a better man.
I’d never say that
sort of shit out loud. It was the kind of pussy crap you heard guys
say in romantic movies, the kinds that were nothing like real life.
But that’s what was going on in my head. That’s how far gone I
was.
I still had the animal
within me. I was still a beast. I wanted to rip off all of her
clothes and drive my cock into her deep, fucking her hard against the
wall, the tractor, the hay, any surface I could possibly get my hands
on, fucking her relentless and driving into her like an animal again
and again. But I held back.
In those moments, when
we’d calm ourselves down and sit together in the barn nestled in
the hay, sometimes we’d just lie quiet, intertwining our fingers.
Listening to each other breathe, I’d trace the edge of her
fingernails. She’d examine the faint outline of old scars on my
hands.
On the third night,
Kara brought me a piece of obsidian rock she’d found. A couple
hundred miles west there were huge obsidian mines, and every now and
then a shard would work its way over to the ranch.
“For you,” she
said, pressing the cool, smooth black rock into my palm.
“Why’s that?” I
asked, after we’d gotten in a fair share of kissing.
“It’s cool and
black. Like your heart.” She giggled, cracking herself up, like she
was making the funniest joke in the world.
“Is that so?” I had
to smile, watching her.
“Well, isn’t that
what you want me to think?”
“It’s true.” I
looked at her, feeling suddenly sad though I didn’t know why. This
girl was so innocent. Only three years younger than me, there was so
much she didn’t know about the world and I didn’t want her to
find out.
I didn’t want her to
know about mothers who got addicted to crystal meth and left their
sons. About fathers who didn’t even care enough to stick around for
the pregnancy, let alone to greet their newborns. About grown-ups who
took in foster kids just for the cash and then didn’t give them
enough food. About sadistic guards in juvenile detention centers and
the brutal pecking order established on the inside, survival of the
strongest and sickest.
I didn’t want Kara to
know about any of it. She was too good for it. And too good for me. I
knew that as well. We were having our moment, our time in the barn,
but it was nearing September and I’d be gone soon. She and I both
knew it, though we never talked about it.
I knew it was for the
best for her
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