ASS like BLAM!...Titties like POW!!
You ever imagine how you'd improve on things if you were God? The changes you'd make. I'm not talking namby pamby, peace on earth bullshit. I'm talking basic quality of life issues. Kids would be born at age six so you didn't have their crying ass keeping you up all night. Women would reach there sexual prime not at 36, but at 18 when they're fresh outta the oven, and it would be a law of physics that beer never be contained in anything besides brown glass bottles.
If I was God, had mined every one of my sick fantasies for inspiration, and then created the ultimate piece of ass she woulda been Darcy Swissgood. And frankly, right after that I'd go back and change history so that I’d never met that crazy bitch.
I'm pulling the first leg of a double shift at the Zippymart. The lazy puke that works second shift had called off, saying he’d come down with something. Yeah--came down with a fat bag of smoke and was getting stoned is more like it. Anyhow I gotta pull his 4pm till midnight shift or else Shatzer, my manager, is gonna shit-can me.
So I'm about an hour or so into my shift, and Shatzer is gone. I'm studying for my finals in between ringing up customers, when in walks this chick that is a walking wet dream. I mean tits like BLAM! and an ass like POW! She's wearing this black vinyl mini skirt with a crop top jacket to match.
Underneath...I shit you not; just a black lace bra. I don't know if she had raided Madonna’s wardrobe or what but the whole package worked. All of a sudden, she looks up at me and catches me gawking at her. I feel myself go flush and turn back to my book. I felt like such a lame fuck, and when I look up again she's walking right at me.
Now let me preface this by saying I ain't ugly as sin on soda crackers but I ain't exactly beating women away with a stick either. Heck, no woman that’s ever come on to me has been worth a second look. I had been rejected by women that weren't 1/6th the package this girl was. And now I have a vision like her staring at me like Michael Jackson at a preschool.
So get this; she says "Do you have any Lips and Assholes?"
I musta muttered "huh" or something, and she repeated herself." You know-- LIPS AND ASSHOLES, the little Donut Fair donuts, delicious, bite size, greasy as shit and shaped like a puckered asshole....You got 'em?"
I point her to the snack pastries. She goes back but says she can't see ‘em, which I know is bullshit because the whole end cap is filled with bags and bags of the greasy little fuckers.
I cruise to the back and hand her a bag but then she asks me “What’s a girl do for fun in this town?"
I just froze--I couldn't fucking believe it. My first thought is she's jazzing me while someone is boosting beer, but I scope out the room and the two of us were the only ones there.
"You’re not very confident are you, DAVE?" she asks, reading my name tag.
"Do you get an opening dropped in your lap by a girl like me very often?" she continued staring me down.
"Do you?"
"N-n-no,” I stammered.
"Well what's it gonna be? Am I walking outta here? Am I gonna be another missed opportunity where you brag about what you coulda done or are you gonna grow some balls and live a little?"
I don't know how I did it but I managed to squeak out a response and asked her what she had in mind.
"Close this Popsicle stand and let’s have an adventure" she said boldly.
"I can't--my boss would shit razor blades. Besides I have this exam tomorrow..."
"There will be other exams...DAVE!” she yelled “There won't be another adventure. I knew you were a pussy!" She turned on one heel and started to stride away in contempt. I don't know where I got the nerve, but I grabbed her and spun her around, kissing her full on the lips. She pressed her body against mine, grinding herself into me. Then pulled away briefly and said, "You’d better lock up."
I rushed up and grabbed the “back in 5 minutes” sign and replaced the open sign with it. Five minutes may have been selling me short, but not by much. She didn't seem to mind, though. Not satisfied with my climax, she held me down and rode me till she was spent.
So there we are: my ass ringed with the impression of the Pepsi 24 packs we just screwed on top of. I open the cooler just to feel the breeze off the Snapple bottles as I thank her for the best fuck of my short 19 years.
"Don't even start telling me that's it and you gotta get back to work or study for your bullshit quiz!"
"No, NO you don't understand—it’s not a quiz; it’s an exam.... my final exam! I gotta...."
"You fucking lied to me, you dick!!" She cuts me off.
"NO, you said an adventure! I..."
"Honey, I don't know what you think that is swinging between your legs but it’s not all that. Don’t get me wrong—you’re good and all, but you’re not an adventure."
I thought about it for a second. This girl wasn't just a girl--she was a force of nature. And even though mom and dad were gonna shit when I had to re-take poly-sci, and that puke Shatzer was gonna can me, I had to do it. It was too good to pass up. I didn't wanna fight against the force that was this vinyl-clad hurricane; I wanted to be washed away by it.
As I stood up and walked passed her, she says how she knew I wouldn't go. I just replied "Oh I'm goin', I just wanna grab us some beer and some Lips and Assholes for the road."
So I write Shatzer a note telling him where he can stick his job, and we hit it out the back door with a case of Coors tall-boys and a bag full of munchies. She makes a beeline straight for this beautiful '97 Eclipse.
"Is this is your ride?" I ask.
"I only travel with best," she replies “B the way my name’s Darcy. Darcy Swissgood."
"I’m Dave--Dave Porter. I guess we shoulda introduced ourselves."
"Why? No names, total anonymity. The thrill of a no-strings, honest-to-God zipless fuck--that's what this was all about. Would it have been anywhere near as hot if you bought me dinner and a movie first?" she challenged.
"I suppose there is some honesty to that, but I'd like to think that it woulda been hot no matter what the situation," I replied.
"Don't flatter yourself, Hercules. You were good and all, but that anonymity, that unknown, unquantifiable element--that's what makes an adventure. It ain’t an extra inch on your dick; it’s the sense of heading for the big crash and not giving a fuck."
She's zipping in and out of traffic all the way up 71. The CD player is cranking a machine gun techno beat that I can feel throbbing in my temple. The way she weaved around the 18 wheelers and cut them off left several pissed-off truckers blaring their horns at us.
"You drive like someone off Dukes of Hazard !" I yell.
"The Jetsons!" she replied.
"What?" I asked, not sure what she said
"The Jetsons--I loved that fuckin’ cartoon. Traffic’s going 100 miles per hour. Those little flying cars all bumper to bumper and George would just zip in and out. No matter how small the space he could always make it," she explained.
So I ask if she's worried about the cops. She goes all serious and says "What about the cops?"
I tell her, no reason just I thought maybe she would be worried about speeding tickets. But she just laughs and says " Dave, that's he least of my worries."
We continue talking mostly just about goofy stuff. She seems reluctant to talk about anything resembling her personal life. I just write it off to the thrill of the no-strings, zipless fuck," as she put it. I basically don't tell her anything about myself either, not that she asked.
By the time I notice where we are, we're tooling along the lakeshore. She looks great with her shades on. I realize that though we fucked like wildcats I still haven't seen this amazing woman naked. Back on the Pepsi display she had doffed her panties from under her skirt and we went at it. I suddenly want to see those magnificent breasts, but decide I'd better hold back. I was pretty sure there’d be another chance.
"We need gas," she explained, wheeling sharply across three lanes and onto the East 55th street exit ramp. She doesn't have to roll very far for me to see that we are not in a friendly neighborhood. Most of the buildings are vacant, and covered in plywood and graffiti.
"Uh... I'm not sure about this neighborhood..." I say, as we drive passed a rough-looking group of black and Hispanic kids hanging on the corner.
"You a racist, Dave?" she challenged.
"No. I'm a survivalist, and I think the chances of surviving this gas run are a little better in Shaker Heights," I reply.
"Shit you are. You're a fucking racist. I shoulda figured, small town guy like you...You ever been to a Klan rally?" she prods me.
"Fuck you. I ain't racist. I just think this neighborhood looks to be a high crime area." I try to rationalize, but she cuts me off.
"Because they're black? Man, you have to learn you can't judge a book by its cover."
She pulls to a stop in front of Marzelle’s Gas-N-Go. She leaves the car running and grabs her purse from behind my seat then leans over to me.
"Lock the doors and windows if you want," she hissed, then kissed me hard. “I'll be right back."
For a minute, I'm kind of dazed, not believing that I'm even lucky enough to be with this amazing girl. I watch her walk away and see the glass door of Marzelle's slam behind her. Then I look up and I see these two kids standing there, boom box blaring some hip-hop beat. They catch me looking at them and stare me down. One of them turns the box up to a deafening beat as if to say "fuck you! What are you looking at?" I looked away nervously and fiddled with the radio trying to turn it up loud enough that I couldn't hear their tunes. Between what they're blasting and the thumping of Darcy's speakers I could barely hear anything. I lean back and close my eyes but then over all the noise I hear it...
BLAM! BLAM!!
My heart just about jumps out of my chest. Darcy's in trouble. I'd like to say my first instinct was to jump out and get into Steven Segal mode and save the day, but that's bullshit. All I thought was jump in the driver’s seat and get the hell outta there. But before I can even flinch, the glass door flies open, Darcy bursts outta there, and as the door slams shut behind her again the glass explodes out as another shot goes off from inside the store. She's careening toward me as the glass from the door comes down in a hailstorm behind her.
She throws the door open and dives into the car. She's sprawled across my lap and I'm thinking "DRIVE! Drive and let’s get the fuck outta here!”
The door to Marzelle's slams open again and this time a young kid in a Hoyas jersey and a do-rag is coming at us with and automatic pistol.
"Get the fuck outta the car bitch!" he yells as she's groping underneath my seat.
"I mean it!" he says as I hear another thunderclap and the window of Darcy's Eclipse explodes away from me.
Darcy has turned around at this point and is starting to ease out of the car when I look on the floor between my feet and there is a silver plated 38, which is obviously what she'd been groping for.
I don't know where I found the nerve, but about the time I hear him say "You are one dead bitch," I grab the pistol from the floor and bring it up to bear on Mr. Hoyas. I don't even remember pulling the trigger, but the next thing I know the whole top of his head just opens up like a ripe pumpkin right above his eyebrow.
The next few minutes are kind of a blur. But Darcy is outta there and back on the highway by the time I start to come to terms with what happened.
"SHIT!! You surprised me back there, Dave. You're a regular Rambo! Did you see the way his fucking head opened up? Weeooooo! That was fucking wild...." she hollered.
"Stop it! Just stop, okay? It’s not a fucking roller coaster ride. I just killed someone! You almost got your ass shot off. We gotta go to the police." I try to reason with her.
"No can do, small town.” Darcy is a mover and shaker with the emphasis on the word mover. I don't intend to stay in Cleveland long enough to fill out the paperwork, let alone all the legal hassles we'd have with a trial. He's just one more statistic on the evening news. Don't sweat it. There will be three more shootings like that just on his block today No one’s gonna miss him."
I couldn't believe she was so cavalier about it. I wanted to puke, but before I could ask her to pull over she turns to me and says, "You saved my life. I owe you big time. Just wait till we get to the hotel." Her smile was so infectious I couldn't help but look forward to it.
I must have dozed off, because the car lurches to a stop at the Dew Me Nights hotel. The neon sign is buzzing like a bug zapper, and I can hear crickets all around.
"Where the hell are we?" I ask, yawning.
"Near Erie, PA. C'mon—let’s go," she says hurriedly
If the name wasn't a dead giveaway for the class of hotel she had chosen, then I was definitely clued in when I saw we had the option of renting by the day, or by the hour. My preconceptions were confirmed inside as well. The room had a condom machine in the bathroom and a TV bolted to the ceiling that played porn flicks. Darcy tells me to shower while she makes a run for stuff to rig the busted window on the Eclipse.
I hop outta the shower and prop the pillows up at the end of the bed. The music from the Porn is irritating me, and despite the cinematic wonders of "Black Anal Gang Bang #17," I switch channels over to a local station to catch the news. The no-talent anchor doesn't even mention the shootout at all. I guess it’s not news in a neighborhood like that after all. About then I hear the door knob twist and Darcy is back.
Now I don't know if it’s the amount of blood she detours to my dick or what, but every time I lay eyes on her I swear the room seems to spin and I get all lightheaded.
"Well Rambo, you ready for your reward?" She asks, tossing her keys on the dresser.
I ask her what reward, and she smiles. "You tell me," she said coyly.
I tell her to undress for me. She douses the big light and her body is immediately bathed in the blue glow of the neon motel sign. As she peels off her bra, I see the halo of fine hairs glowing all over and I tell her how beautiful she is. She only responds with a smile. As her skirt falls to the floor, she finally speaks.
"This is what you wanted--to see me? Am I right? You hardly took your eyes off my tits the whole drive up. I hope I was worth the wait."
I try to respond but she giggles at my stammered attempt and crawls onto the bed. She kisses me once then turns around and grabs the foot board of the bed. "Take me this way, from behind. I love it like this. "
I get up on my knees and my hands surround her magnificent heart shaped ass. I lean forward to kiss the back of her neck but rake my teeth down her spine instead. And as I feel myself slip inside her, I throw my head back and that’s when I see it.
Right there on the fucking TV--my face in all its grainy black and white glory. Darcy's asking what's wrong but I'm grabbing the controller and turning the volume back up.
"Recapping tonight’s top story, police in Cuyahoga County are still searching for this man who was an accomplice to tonight’s murder and robbery at an East side convenience store. Young Maleek Williams, an honor student from East High School was savagely murdered while trying to defend his grandfather’s grocery from a would-be hold up team."
As the anchor drones on, they show security cam footage of Darcy entering the store and taking the automatic out of her purse. After she brandishes it at an old man, the kid in the Hoyas shirt wrestles it from her and the two shots go off. Then he chases her out of the store. At that point the video switches to another security cam shot of me taking off the top of Maleek’s head.
"Oh Fuck!! Jesus fucking Christ on a pogo stick, I am fucked!" I start to rant.
"Calm down," Darcy sighs.
"Calm down? Calm down? Are you fucking high? Do you know how fucked my life is? Do you know what this means?"
"It means the same fucking thing now it meant ten minutes ago. We're on the run. We're on an adventure." she responds.
"Adventure? An adventure would be sneaking into the movies without paying, okay? That's more my speed! Not fucking murder! Not armed robbery!" I continue.
"Look small town, I ain’t your average girl, so this ain’t your average adventure. You wanted a ride? This is a fucking "E" ticket ride, baby. Like I said, the thrill of careening headlong towards the big crash and not giving a fuck!" she said.
"But I do give a fuck," I returned. "I have a life, and a family I don't want to put through this!"
"Guess you shoulda thought about that first, ‘cause I hate to say it, but they are in it now. Fuck--we get busted, our families are gonna be rich just off Springer and the tabloids!" she said in a disgusted tone, pulling away from my dick and lighting up a smoke.
"They're in it, you're in it, we're in it. So you gonna spend tonight crying about it and let this hot sex go to waste, or are you gonna collect your reward?" she challenged. "What's it gonna be?"
I don't know what came over me, but I grabbed her. Balled her hair up in my fist and I made love to her with an anger and a passion that I surprised myself with. In the end, I felt ashamed and dirty. I think that's when I really got scared. She had pushed my buttons and pushed me to the edge. The sex was so rough I felt guilty, almost as if I had raped her. And the rougher I got, I swear the more she seemed to dig it. Darcy Swissgood was a real piece of work all right, but it was scaring the shit out of me. Scared of where we were going, scared of how it would end and scared that I lacked the desire and self control to walk away from it.
I wake to Darcy zipping the vinyl mini and turning to smile at me. "Bout time you got up. I thought maybe I'd fucked you to death." she cracked. I looked at the clock; it was 9:20 a.m. "What's the agenda?" I ask.
"I'm buying you breakfast. I owe it to you for all the trouble I got you in. Besides, you were really fucking good last night. I'll make you a deal, you keep fucking me like that and I'll quit calling you small town," she said.
"Deal," I tell her, hoping that I don't get pushed to that limit again.
We head down the road. Darcy seems to be sticking mostly to the back roads at this point and is obviously more worried than she’s letting on. We pull into this little mom and pop greasy spoon called Fork’s Dinerette on the outskirts of Erie.
We go inside, and for all the shit she gives me about being small town all these guys look like they'd think Wooster was a thriving metropolis. The juke is blaring Boxcar Willie or Slim Whitman or some such shit and the whole joint reeks of menthol Kools. We grab a booth by the window.
"What if these yokels recognize us?" I ask.
"What?, off that grainy security camera video? Gimme a break. You're too paranoid. Besides, look at these lame asses. You think they ever watch anything besides Hee Haw and Ernest Ainslely?" she replies.
"I guess your right," I offered quietly. The waitress arrives to take our orders.
"I'll take an egg white omelet with just green peppers and tomatoes, four slices of white toast and a super-size black coffee," Darcy orders with a smile.
"Our coffee comes with free refills," says the waitress.
"I don't give a shit if it comes with a free tank of gas! Just give me the biggest cup you’ve got so I don't have to flag you down every five minutes for a refill." The waitress wisely chokes down whatever she felt like saying to Darcy and turns to me.
"Just a bagel and a coffee for me, thanks," I say quietly, and the waitress turns and walks toward the kitchen.
"Why’d you give that waitress shit? We don't need any attention!" I snort.
"Come on, Dave! You think she's in the back going 'that chick just gave me shit--better check with the authorities to see if there’s any dangerous felons on a tri-state spree.' Give me a break!”
" Tri-state? Is there something you’re not telling me?" I start to ask, then I reconsider. "Fuck it--I don't wanna know." She just stares at me for a minute or two until I can't take the uncomfortable silence. So I tell her I gotta take a leak.
"Can you get my smokes out of the glove compartment while you’re up?" she asks.
I tell her sure and head to the men's room over by the jukebox.
Inside, standing at the urinal they have the front page to the local Erie paper hanging there and I read it as I piss. There in the center is Darcy Swissgood, a.k.a Martha Swissholm, a.k.a Athena Baker. The story detailed how she is wanted in several robberies in Covington, KY, Cincinnati and Marion , as well as for a murder in New Philadelphia where a man’s body was found in a burned-out Mazda RX7 believed to be used in the Cincinnati and Marion robberies. The body has been identified as Daryl Likens of New Philadelphia. He was shot twice in the back of his head, robbed, and left in the burning Mazda in a corn field. She is currently believed to be in the Cleveland-Youngstown area and is the prime suspect in the East 55th Street convenience store robbery.
I'm pretty bugged--no wonder she didn't tell me dick. I'm just the latest in a long line of adventures. I head out to the car, not knowing if I'm gonna grab her smokes for her or grab the keys and just keep going. I get out there and am sitting in the car, door flung open rooting for the cigs in the glove compartment when I look up at her through the restaurant window and she mouths "You’re the best" to me. I'm just sitting there trying to decide what to do when I see the TV screen on the wall behind her. It’s running the whole updated story I just saw in the bathroom. She's still smiling at me unaware that behind her the manager and that waitress are checking her out. I don't know what to do but I grab the .38 and stick it in the back of my waistband. As I get inside, the manager and the waitress are at the checkout. The Manager is picking up the phone and I hear the waitress say "call the cops!"
Reacting from my gut I pull the gun. "Drop the phone you fat fuck!!"
"Don't shoot. Please!" he begs.
"Just fuckin’ drop it and step back, or your customers are getting an order of brains benedict splattered all over them!" He drops the phone and I see tears running down his face. Darcy is looking at me, puzzled.
"What's going on, honey? " she asks.
"We've been made. We gotta roll. They saw you on the news." As I'm trying to explain and not paying attention, Mr. Manager pulls a gun from underneath the counter. Darcy screams as my arm goes up to block the gun which fires into the ceiling. He bears down on me with his hand cannon when I just reach out with my hand and before a second thought can go by I've shot him in the throat.
"C'mon Darcy, let’s roll! We're burning daylight!" I turn and high tail it out the door and I can see Darcy stopping at the register, trying to boost some last minute cash. Just about the time I'm clearing the plane of the door, I yell for her to leave the cash and haul ass, when I'm grabbed spun around and this cop’s got his automatic shoved under my chin.
"Move, say a word, anything, and I blow your head off. Scumbags like you are a waste of human flesh and I won't shed a tear wasting you," he says.
I drop the gun, and he cuffs me and moves me over to an unmarked squad car, shoving me into the back seat. I look around and I see just how fucked we are. There are about six cops, all with guns drawn. They were just waiting to get us, all peaceful-like, but I had to go off on the manager and forced their hand before it got any worse.
I'm sitting there waiting for what seems like forever, knowing what Darcy is walking right into. Knowing that she doesn't know, and feeling so fucking helpless. Then the door bursts open and she comes running out.
"DROP TO THE GROUND WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED," the megaphone blares. She looks up at me in the car, looks at the cops and surveys the situation. And then she looks down at the .38 I dropped on the black top right between her legs.
"Drop to the ground or we will open fire!!" The cops repeat.
And then she looked at me. That same fucking killer stare she gave me when she strode up to my counter. That same look she had swerving in and out of traffic, the same look she had in her eyes when she said to me "It’s the thrill of heading for the big crash and not giving a fuck."
She dropped in one swift motion grabbing the .38, bringing it to bear on the cop with the megaphone. I saw his wire frame glasses split at the bridge of his nose. His brain emptied out the back of his head about the same time the first bullet hit her. I'd like to tell you that she squeezed off two or three more before she went down but the rest of the bullets came down on her like a rainstorm. I had to look away I couldn't bear to remember her any other way than beautiful.
I suppose saying all that, I wish I could just go back to my old job, my old college schedule, where my biggest headaches were keeping my average high enough that Mom and Dad never cut off the tuition money. Go back to where my biggest daydreams involved a nicer car or an occasional piece of ass. I suppose there’s part of me that wishes he never met Darcy Swissgood. Not because of the way she fucked up my life, though that would be enough reason. No--I wish I'd never met her because since then everything has paled in comparison to my time with her.