It was 1987. The year Bo Didley, Chuck Berry, and Marvin Gaye made it to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Marvin Gaye was a favorite of my Dad, and Ford Mustangs were a hot topic at our dinner table on most nights, but tonight was extra special for me. It was my 16th birthday. I had my pick for our dinner on this night and, to nobody’s surprise, it was my Mom’s homemade pizza.
My Mom really didn’t have time to do this in one day, so she would start the night before on the pizza sauce. The thick rich aroma of her delicious tomato sauce was wafting through our house all night last night. And, of course, it was Dad’s job to stop at Becco’s market on his way home from work and select the finest of the Italian sausage. After all, “Nobody knows more about meat than I do!” he always said with pride. And, he had a point, because Grandpa was a butcher in Apache Junction ages ago when Dad was growing up. “I worked in that shop sixteen hours a day!” he would always remind us and me in particular. He also reminded me that he had to walk to school every day, even on Sundays, fifty miles each way, and through buffalo stampedes.
“You know, Sammie,” I can still hear his lectures of life,” You can be anything you want to be.” I always dropped my head down.”Oh no, here we go again.”
“Yes Dad. I know, I know.” I always got The Look when I said those words. He would pull down his large black-framed glasses and look over them at me. “Uhm.” The usual reply.
I usually got A’s and a few B’s in school. I could have applied myself more, but I had a lot of chores to do. Feeding and tending to our horses, fixing broken fences, and working on that damn car.
“So, just what do you want to do with your life?” Dad always kept after me.
“I dunno, maybe waitress at Hooters.” That always pissed him off.
He abruptly stood at the table
“Sit down Julius!” My Mom was shaking her head with her back to us, laboring on the sauce for my birthday feast. My Dad was and still is a mountain of a man, six-foot-five and a solid 260 pounds. But Elaine could put him in his place in a heartbeat. My Mom ruled with an iron fist, and we both knew it. In fact, she grounded me for life last year. I came home from a trip to the city with a ‘Harley Davidson’ tattoo on my left arm.
“I love you, Mom.” There, Dad. It’s now two against one. My Mom didn’t want to be called by her ‘chosen’ name here at home. Her parents immigrated to America from Vietnam, when she was a little girl. They wanted her to have an American name on her naturalization papers, so they picked Elaine Mae. But she really liked to hear, “Mom.”
“You know, tomorrow is a big day, Sammie.” My Dad was trying to get on our good side now. He knew he didn’t have a ghost of a chance to pursue my employment issues any further.
“Yep, a biggie, Dad. Now I can drive your car.” That was just pushing his buttons now. Again, Julius stood up. Only to feel the wrath of Mom’s dishtowel on the back of his neck.
“SIT DOWN!” Mom now gave him ‘the look’. “You promised her.”
“I know Honey,” My Dad was still very much in love with her, and it would never fade, only get stronger, as they went on their journey of life together. I could only pray to find such happiness as these two shared. It made growing up something special, to have parents like them.
“Be right back.” My Dad got up and walked towards bedroom hallway.
“Your father has a surprise for you.” My Mom turned and looked at me.
“What? What surprise?” My heart was now racing. The butterflies in my stomach were overwhelming. I glanced down the hallway.
“Oh My God!!” I was now squirming in my kitchen chair. I could see my Dad coming back into view, his eyes absolutely beaming, and I distinctly heard the jingle of car keys. He had his arms behind his back, foolishly trying to hide my surprise. I sprang at him when he got into range.
“Oh Dad, you didn’t!!” I squealed in pure delight, hugging him, trying to reach around him and pry my present from those huge hands. It was no use; he was too big. I stepped back with my hands to my mouth, my dark hazel eyes bulging with excitement. I began bouncing up and down. My eyes glued to his hands as they came into view.
“For you, Sammie.” I stood frozen in time, unable to speak. The keys to his Mustang swayed in front of my stunned face. Not just any set of keys. My very own set!!
At first I was afraid of them. They would hold so much responsibility, but I quickly grabbed them anyway and launched a hug that my Dad would never forget. My Mom just stood at the stove and watched us, silently nodding her pretty head with approval. I could hardly get to sleep that night. I couldn’t just leave My Keys on the nightstand, nope. I had to hold them again. I grabbed my flashlight from the drawer, and clicked it on.
I laid on my back in my bed with my legs propped up knocking together and held my sweet independence high in the darkness. The beam from the light made them shimmer. They had the Ford logos, and I read “Sammie” embroidered inside a large red heart on the big black leather tab. Everyone will think I drive a Sammie. What the Hell is a Sammie? What kind of a car is that? Maybe it should have said MUSTANG, but it didn’t matter to me. I got the car.
That car became a big part of me. So many events in my life would take place because of it. Some were happy, and some were sad. And some would change my life forever, as though that Mustang gave me so many choices at the crossroads along life’s journey. It seems like such an easy decision to go straight, or turn left or right, but the path we choose will alter who we are today. To fall asleep on that Thursday night was impossible. And school the next day was just eight wasted hours. I couldn’t get home fast enough.
“Happy Birthday, Sammie!” Mom sang as she finally presented the scalding hot delicacy from the oven, the steam blasting my face as she placed it front of me on the table. I squirmed, feeling my keys as they caressed my butt in my back pocket.
Ah, can I get this to go? I silently begged. I had a ton of places to go to, people to see, and things to do!!
We slaughtered the pizza in short order. The only sounds were that of our lips smacking together, and some moans of delight. Dan Rather was on TV, talking about President Reagan and the Iran-Contra stuff, and the Unibomber struck for the second time at a Utah computer store.
“Can I go?” I beamed at my parents. I had wolfed down four big slabs of Moms present. But I was a growing girl, five foot four inches and a nicely toned one hundred and ten pounds.
“What? No McGyvver tonight, Sammie?” My Dad was teasing me. Friday was also our night to watch whatever impossible predicament he’d escape from.
“Go ahead, dear, but be careful.” And my Mom’s voice was serious, my Dad nodding in agreement. “Be home by midnight, ok?” I kissed them each goodbye.
I grabbed my Phoenix Suns windbreaker off the hook at the back kitchen doorway, and flew out the door. I would come home a totally different person, at three in the morning.
“Holy Shit,” I mumbled to myself as I pulled up the doublewide aluminum garage door. I knew they were watching from the kitchen window. The sun setting in the Arizona desert is, for me, always breathtaking. I will always call this place my home. I stood silently and took in this beautiful view. The blazing sunset filled the inside of the garage with a bright orange glow.
My Mustang was parked facing out, looking like a primer gray missile ready for launch. The last rays of sunlight bathed the hungry grill and glared off of the center fog lamps. The small hood scoop was ready to eat some Chevys. I slowly approached my steed, petting the front of the hood, and touching the hood pins whose job it was to keep the damn thing from flying open in event I went five hundred miles an hour.
“Thanks Dad!” I turned and shouted at the kitchen window and the two figures standing at it. The only thing this machine needed was a navy blue paint job and the two big white stripes. It was all-original, matching numbers, with an honest to God 351 Cleveland engine. Hell, I knew more about cars than most of the boys in school or the entire valley.
I guess that’s why the gear heads sought out my company at school. I was born and raised by a father that was a racing nut besides teaching at the University. Ever since I was 10 years old, I helped him on most Saturday afternoons putting this beast together. When most teenage girls were at the mall flirting with older boys, looking for anyone to say how beautiful they were, I was bent over a fender, tightening header bolts or pulling an alternator off, or working on the jets to that fucking carb. We just couldn’t get it to idle quite right. The three-quarter race cam had some to blame, but it was supposed to idle rough.
And thanks to that unreliable Holley carburetor, I would find out about very real sex, on this very special night. The night of my 16th birthday.
“Thanks again, Dad!” I opened the door and climbed in. I got my butt just right, and leaned forward sliding that key in, pressed down the clutch pedal and the heavy duty Hayes clutch we had just put in, and I turned it. The beast roared to life. I was honest to God, WET!
There are two aromas that can really get me going, my Mom’s homemade pizza, and the sweet smell of high-octane exhaust. And I had a tank full of 104, courtesy of the small airport down the Interstate. I put the animal in first gear. Dad said it dyno’d at 450hp.
Four years ago, my Dad began to teach me how to drive. Hours and hours of driving up and down our long gravel driveway at first, so I had mastered how to dirt track in the corners and slide without spinning out, and all that crap. I gradually worked up to the super speedway events on the asphalt Interstate that ran by our land. I could speed-shift with the best of ‘em, as my Dad would say. He would sit in the passenger seat and cheer if I laid rubber in all four gears.
But town is waiting for you, Sammie, I thought, and slowly eased out of the garage. At the end of our gravel road, I looked in the rear view mirror and noticed how different I looked. I had a more sensual look in what used to be girls eyes. I had just a little eyeliner on, but it made me look really sexy now.
There’s nothing in the world that compares to cruising down the Interstate at 85 miles per hour with the Mustang’s deafening growl and the music of TOTO’s “Hold the Line” blaring out of the sound system. I was on my way to being an independent woman. The windows were rolled down, even though it was only about fifty degrees outside. I just wanted my long black hair to flow out the window.
I blew by a semi and the driver hit his horn in approval. “There goes a hot chick,” he would have said. The lights of town were slowly coming into view as the Mustang roared down into the valley.
My headlights picked up on the reflecting railroad crossing sign, and then it died. My Mustang, chugged a few times, sputtered, and went quiet. I was almost downtown too. I coasted to a stop just a few blocks away from Donavan’s Speed Shop.
“Shit, that’s a break.” I rolled up my windows, locked the doors and got out.
Donavan’s is where everyone goes to get the hottest hop-ups. Clyde Donavan, the owner passed away some years ago, so his oldest son Jason took it over. Jason was a high school star athlete until he got partially paralyzed in a real bad car wreck when he was drag racing through town a few years ago. With any luck, he’d still be open. I began walking into town.
Oh good! He’s still open. I could see Jason sweeping out the big stall in the garage. As I was running towards the open garage door, Jason spotted me and suddenly stopped sweeping and dropped his broom. I jogged into the stall, and stopped a few feet from him. “Still open?”
I’ve had a crush on this guy ever since I saw him play football in high school. Jason could have gone to any college in the southwest to play defensive back or wide receiver, but when his dad died, he took over his family responsibility, and kept the shop going. My Dad really didn’t care for him that much, only because, “Donavan’s Shop had high prices on everything!” I’ve always liked Jason and considered him a good friend to share Ford racing secrets with.
“Hi Sammie! Is that you?” He looked surprised to see me. He struggled to pick his broom back up. His right leg and hip were bolted together after being shattered in the wreck. It took more than just his football career away; girls didn’t want to date a cripple. But to me, he was my hero. I had had countless, intimate encounters with him in my privacy of my bedroom.
“Hi Jason.” Jason could always get me to smile. “I got major problems.”
“I told your dad to get a new Holley for the GT,” His voice was crackling.
“Well you know my Dad, save a dollar, spend a penny.”
“Where’s the car, Sammie?” He was trying not to make eye contact, which I thought was strange.
“A couple of blocks away.” Now I moved to get in his vision. Again he looked away.
“Ok, let’s go get it.” He dropped his broom against the workbench and I followed him to the tow truck outside.
“Hey, Sid! I’ll be right back,” he yelled to his little brother, who was busy cleaning the front office area. “Ok Jas,” the little 12-year-old yelled back. We climbed into the truck.
“Shitty thing to have happen on a birthday.” I looked at him for an eye to eye. He slowly turned and looked at me.
“No shit? It’s your birthday?”
“Jesus, Sam, you’re really growing up fast.” He was blushing and trying desperately to hide the fact.
“Let’s go get the car.” He quickly glanced down at my legs in the skintight jeans.
Jason did all the work hooking up the tow strap to my car. He was still in fantastic shape. He had really muscular arms and a big chest. He looked a lot like a young Paul Newman.
I couldn’t get enough of watching him, or how the cool desert breeze made his blond hair flow so sensuously. I could look at him as a sexy man now. He was only six years older than me, so that made it all right.
We pushed my car into the far right stall, and Jason hit the button to drop the garage door shut. I could see out the back door window from this stall. His mangled wreck of a car was still in the yard. Its engine was pushed into the front seat from the impact of hitting the train on that night. His brakes failed because of a bad fitting and all the fluid leaked out. The streetlight from the alley served as a reminder that the Angel of Death took only his car that night.
“Got to go, Jas!” Sid yelled from the office. And we heard the door slam shut. We were alone now. Jason pulled the hood pins out and raised the hood.
“What have we here, Samantha?” He didn’t call me Sammie? I watched him take the air cleaner off. Then I leaned in right next him.
“That’s the whole problem uh Jas?” I leaned a lot closer to him pointing to the front of the carburetor. I had my right breast rub against his arm. They weren’t very big, but they were breasts. I could feel my nipple become instantly hard, and he knew right away that I wasn’t wearing a bra!
Jason stood up quickly and forgot he was under the hood of my car. He almost knocked himself out.
“Oh shit, Sammie! What the heck are you doing?” He stepped back and sternly looked at me. He rubbed the top of his head. “Jesus Christ, Sammie.” He checked his hand for blood. He didn’t even notice the look of utter despair in my eyes.
“I’m sorry Jas,” My voice was weak and sad. My Boyfriend just yelled at me.
“You trying to get me in trouble?” I felt terrible. How could he say a thing like that? His face sank when he saw the tears beginning to well in my eyes.
“I’m sorry, Sammie,” He now came to comfort me,” I just thought you were-”
I quickly turned and ran into the office, sobbing all the way. I slammed the door behind me and, leaning against it, I began to really cry. Jason stayed in the work stall tending to my car.
“How could I be that stupid?” I scolded myself in his dark office. “You think he’d be interested in a kid like you??” I looked at the big clock on the wall behind his desk. It was nearing ten o’clock.
“Just great.” I sat in Jason’s chair at the desk. “Happy birthday, Sam.” I stared out the huge store window and pouted, the distant streetlight trying to put me on a stage so everyone could see my foolishness.
“Hey everyone, look! It’s little Sammie,” an imaginary carnival barker was announcing. “Look how she moves through the night, like a sensuous snake, about to strike it’s preyed.”
“Oh, fuck you,” I debated the carnival barker. My big night lay in ruins. I imagined my ideal night would have been to ride around town with my Jason, just a little while, so everyone could see I was with him. He could be driving my car, and I would be sitting on the console right next to him with my arms wrapped tightly around him.
“Jason? Please take me home and make love to me.” His apartment was right above me, right above this very shop.
“I’ll just wait here till he’s done with my car.” I saw the lit numbers to his nearby radio. I reached over and clicked the FM button. Suddenly the whole office and shop was filled with music. The band Journey was on, and they were singing the song “Don’t Stop Believing.” The words to the music went straight to my broken heart.
“Almost got it, Sammie!” Jason yelled from his distant workplace. I quickly looked at the big clock, 11:15. Cinderella’s night is almost over. I felt sad again.
I heard my car roar to life. Excited, I quickly left Jason’s chair and ran back to the shop.
Oh my God, what a sight! Jason leaning against my car with a huge smile of satisfaction with his big arms folded across his chest in triumph. I shyly walked towards him, hiding my happy face. My car rocked as the race cam did its stuff.
“I replaced the carb jets, Sammie, and adjusted the floats,” he said as he twirled a screwdriver. “Call it a birthday present.” He had a look of concern. “OK, Sammie?” I stood directly in front of him, afraid to look up. He lightly tapped my nose with the screwdriver, trying to get me to look at him. I couldn’t hear him. The engine was too loud. Jason turned and shut off my Mustang.
“I said I replaced those bad jets, but don’t tell your dad.” He reached out and gently held my shoulders. I slowly looked up. My boyfriend didn’t want me. He saw the trails of my tears. He knew I wanted him. Music was softly filling the garage. It would be hopeless to escape this pending seduction.
“Jason?” My voice was shaky but I had to know.” Do you think I’m pretty?”
“Yes!” he exclaimed and went to the front of my car, gently closing the hood.
“Sammie,” he continued as I walked to him at the front of the Mustang. “You could be on the cover of Vogue.” Wow! I didn’t know he read that magazine.
“You’ve got the senior girls beat by a mile.” We stood side by side, looking at the front of the car. I felt him turn to look at me. “You’re the most beautiful girl in this valley.” There was a hint of sincerity in his voice. Maybe it was that he liked what I knew about cars.
“Happy birthday, Samantha,” Jason bent down to kiss my cheek just as I turned to face him. Our lips met.
There’s an eternity of time to that very first serious kiss. Every pair of lips that would touch mine from that day forward would be compared to Jason’s. And for a girl of 16 to get that first very special kiss from her biggest fantasy, it’s pure heaven.
We stood together frozen in time. I slowly put my arms around his neck and quietly pressed against him. He dropped the screwdriver. I felt his hands around my waist. My mouth opened as his soft warm tongue brushed my moist lips. Jason was breathing so fast and heavy it was triggering a hunger deep inside me. I wasn’t afraid of where this was going. My knees shivered in weakness, his strong hands were at my small firm breasts.
Jason didn’t know about my parent’s collection of porno, that I had found and studied. For two long years, I read all the magazines and watched every movie, hundreds of times. I had a library of sex at my disposal. And I knew he didn’t have a girlfriend and since I had a crush on him for so long, I wanted him to be with me. I wanted him to make love to me. I needed him to be the one.
He moaned in complete surprise as my hands pressed from his neck, down to the front of his jeans. He followed suit, by gently rubbing my damp pussy through the crotch of my anxious skin tight Levis.
My hands were at his crotch, rubbing and grasping. I moaned long and loud, feeling his rock hard penis that was trapped in his jeans. My first ever, very real penis. And his was very erect.
“My tight jeans, quick pull them off!” The words wouldn’t come out. I unzipped his greasy jeans. He groaned. His hands were now at my own jeans, working to release them. My hand was going inside, sliding under the band of his jockey shorts. I felt his rich pubic hair, and the heat from his groin.
“Sammie,” he whispered, his lips worked around my cheek to my ear. My jeans were going down my legs. His hands held my butt, squeezing my small firm cheeks. My hand found his beautiful naked cock. It was so smooth and rock solid. My fingers slowly grasped it.
“Jason,” I quietly whispered his name. He pushed his jeans and underwear down to his knees. I watched his manhood spring straight out. It looked huge. Not nearly as big as some of those actors in the pornos, but for a sixteen-year-old virgin, it was big.
This scene of innocence lost will be forever stamped in my mind. A dimly lit service garage, in the farthest stall two people standing and facing each other. One with his jeans and underwear around his knees, his rock-hard penis sticking straight out. He was holding my shoulders. He had his eyes closed and his head tilted back, because I was stroking his cock with my hand. My fingers were squeezing and pumping his ridged shaft. I’m looking down in awe at this sight. My own jeans are around my ankles, but my panties are still on, and so is my jacket and tee shirt. To me, it looked like two lonely people finding each other on a dark, cool February night in the Arizona desert.
“Oh, Sam, Oh,” Jason was whispering. I stepped out of my jeans and knelt on them. His beautifully hard cock throbbed as I held it. I slowly took his penis into my mouth, closing my warm wet lips around his smooth velvety head. My hands held onto his hips. I could feel the poor attempt the surgeons did to reconstruct it. I slowly moved my mouth back and forth on his erect cock.
“Oh, sweet Jesus!” I heard him whisper out loud. I could make him mine forever. After all, I learned a lot watching those movies. But I didn’t consider the end result of my expertise. He held my head and began to pump his cock in and out of my mouth faster and faster. I could barely hold his hips now. I grabbed the base of his wet stiff penis and pumped it feverishly.
“Oh, Oh,” I felt his ass tighten, as his penis swelled in my mouth. He stopped moving. The flood of hot cum poured onto my tongue, and hit the back of my throat. Instinctively, I tried to swallow, but there was way too much. It just kept pumping out. I had a huge load in my mouth as I released his penis, and it was still flying out of the tip, landing on my jacket, my cheek, and in my hair. The bittersweet salty taste overwhelmed my full mouth. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut and gulped it down as he gently held my head in his shaking hands. I could feel his warm cum dribbling onto my naked thighs.
He brought me to my feet and began kissing me, as I began to slide myself out of my drenched black panties. I held onto his still very erect penis, to keep my balance and also to remind both of us that this wasn’t over yet.
“Losing My Religion.” I heard the R.E.M. song on the radio at the very moment that I lay on the hood of my car, naked from the waist down with my legs spread wide. Jason approached, his hard cock swayed towards my hot young pussy.
“This is MY man, Jason,” I told myself. My heart began to beat out his name. He gently held my hips and pulled me down to the front of the hood. His hard cock bumped the inside of my hot smooth thigh, making me gasp in excitement and finality. His eyes were shut as he rubbed the head of his stiff cock around my sweating pussy. My head was swimming with excitement and raw lust. He found the tight opening, hot, wet and slick.
“Ohhh,” I felt the head go in just a little. Arching my back, I sat up and wrapped my arms around his neck. Desperately seeking his sweet kiss at this moment in my life.
“Owww, Ouch, Ohhhh.” He was pushing just a little. I clenched my teeth. It hurt and it burned at the same time. The pressure was painfully sweet. Jason looked down and kissed me, taking my head in his hands, thrusting his hips forward. Jason was making a secret commitment to me. He would never leave my side, “Forever, Samantha.”
“AHHH, OH my GOD!!!” The searing hot pain filled my stretching new womanhood. I looked down with tightly clenched teeth. Puffing, and panting, his penis was half way in.
It had broken through. My body was shaking as he slowly pulled his hard penis out a little. I saw my blood and juice coating his glistening shaft. He slowly pushed it back in making me yelp sharply. He was going deeper.
I hung on to his neck for dear life. It was so painful, but also very, very wonderful. He slowly pumped my young pussy. My tightness made him dizzy with lust. Every stroke was more than the one before, as his cock glided effortlessly in and out. My wetness was louder than the music in the background. My butt was riding in a pool of blood and juice on the hood of my car.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” I was loudly breathing the words over and over. He held my hips, slowly pumping his wonderful cock. Pain was building; he was going deeper. My hips were a flurry of humping back against his organ. He pulled me down to lay my back on the hood of the car. He wrapped his large arms around my spread thighs, pulling me and plunging his cock in and out. My arms shot straight out, there was nothing for me to grab. My head and hair flung from side to side, as my cries of passion echoed throughout the empty garage. He pumped slow, then fast. His cock went deep, then shallow. My stuffed pussy was splashing with juice
“Oh, what he does with his cock! That wonderful, hard thrusting, pumping, hunk of manhood,” my sex glazed mind whispered over and over.
I watched him straighten up and felt him sink the entire length into me. My mouth hung wide open. I was silent. I was full. A great pressure was washing through me. My head was spinning. My whole body was shaking. I couldn’t stop it. The tidal wave of a climax engulfed every inch of me. I locked my legs around him, and quickly gripped his strong arms, trying to ride it out, terrified at where this euphoria was taking me. My eyes were closing as the heat in my loins exploded, sending a bath of warmth cascading through every fiber of my gripping vagina. A seductive darkness closed in.
“Oh, Dear God, Samantha,” a small voice echoed faintly through my thoughts. I was drifting away. “Don’t bother me,” I replied to the voice. I was weightless, and drifting. My entire being was warm and tingly. On and on, I drifted so wondrously. Barely conscious of where I was, or that Jason had pulled out of me and was passionately kissing my mouth. I was elsewhere now, in another world, where time didn’t exist. The fruits of passion. A woman’s orgasm. I faintly felt the heat of his cock pumping out a huge load of cum onto my belly. I was vaguely aware of holding his penis, and stroking it, pulling on the shaft, milking more of his precious seed onto my body.
There’s that little voice again. “Sammie?” What the fuck do you want! I’m busy here in ecstasy; I’m getting mad now.
“Sammie!!” I slowly began to remember.
“Sammie?” I felt him. He slowly came into view. My mind was a broken jigsaw puzzle of thoughts. I slowly sat up and hugged my Jason.
He held me so close on that night. We stayed like that for quite a while, sharing touches, and sweet kisses. Until I glanced at the shop clock, 2:45 a.m.
“Holy Shit! I’m going to get killed!” My panic was obvious and urgent. I could just see my Dad waiting at the driveway with his twelve gage shotgun. “I’m sorry Sammie, but we have to shoot you now.” And my Mom would be standing right behind him with a rolling pin. “Let me beat her first, OK, honey?”
We quickly got dressed without much talking. I jumped into my car. Then Jason leaned in and kissed me and touched my cheek. My heart began to sing with joy. The love was very deep in his blue eyes at that moment, and it would carry me through the next two years of school. Jason would be my guy.
I lucked out when I drove up the long gravel driveway. The house was totally dark, except for the yard light near the garage. I shut off the car and coasted into my parking place. I quietly snuck into the house. I could hear my Dad snoring. I went to my bedroom and got undressed. I took a long hot shower to wash away the evidence. I crawled into bed and stared out my bedroom window. All I could see was Jason beautiful face.
“What’s Jason doing right now? Is he thinking of me?”
“I love you Jason.” Was the last fleeting thought my mind would have as I drifted off to sleep.
My Mom was surprised to see me do the Saturday morning wash so early. I had more evidence to destroy. A guy’s cum stains are very distinct. And mixed with a virgin’s blood, it is a dead giveaway.
“Hey, Sammie?” My Dad came in from tinkering in the garage. Just then a bolt of fear jolted me. He had secret spies follow me all night, and he knew.
“What happened to the car?” Oh good, he had his back to me as he poured himself a glass of water at the kitchen sink. Did he say “the car”?
“The car? What?”
“There’s blood on the hood.” Oh My God! He knows! Quick thinking will save the day.
“I hit a rabbit.” Jesus Christ! Did I just say that? I scratched my head and rolled my eyes.
Dad slowly turned my way, pulled down his big black-rimmed glasses, and peered at me.
I gave him a slight grin and shrugged my shoulders.
“Must have been a tall rabbit, huh?” And he didn’t pursue it. He and Mom would get ready for a drive into Phoenix that morning, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my music.