Page 2 of Baby Blue
He hadn’t managed to get more than a block away before the girl’s fingers were tugging on the zipper of his fly, and by the time he pulled up in the driveway, she had a handful of him out of his jeans and was working to beat the band. “Hey, let’s go inside,” he whispered to her. “Come on.” He slipped his dick back into his jeans and opened the driver’s side door, knowing full well his fly was still open. The girl hadn’t climbed out of the truck, and he motioned for her to follow him. Go around and open her door? Nah. What was the point to that? She just wanted a fucking. It wasn’t like she was a date or anything.
When she got out and made her way to him, Blue looked up and saw a car pulling in next door. The woman got out and headed toward the house, glaring at Blue the whole way. What the hell was her name? Blue couldn’t remember. He knew she worked at a hospital or old folks’ home or something, but he didn’t know for sure. And he knew she hated him with a passion.Maybe it was the beer cans on her lawn, or the way he cussed and carried on out in the yard when her kids were out playing, or possibly the aroma of pot wafting out his windows, accompanied by loud music, that set her off. Whatever it was, she despised him, and he could honestly say the feeling was mutual. She was a bitch, no question about it, and he’d gotten tired of her calling the cops and the city commission on him every time she thought he’d violated some ordinance, like the one that said his grass couldn’t be knee high. Fuck that shit. It was just grass. What was the damn problem?
The two of them stumbled through the front door, and in just a few seconds, Blue had the girl completely undressed, his hands roaming all over her. Firm tits, firm ass, big blue eyes. It was turning out to be a good evening, and Blue was pretty excited about that. The large brandy snifter beside his bed was only about half full of condoms, and he made a mental note to get refills soon. Couldn’t run out of those bad boys. He rolled one on and fucked the hell out of the girl, listening to her shrieking and screaming in what had to be ecstasy. As soon as he came, he pulled out, slipped the condom off, and pushed her to her knees. She knew what she was doing, he’d give her that. Swallowing his length wasn’t a challenge for her, not at all. After he’d come down her throat, he flipped her over the end of the sofa, rolled on another condom, and fucked her ass. “So, you do this often?” Blue panted out.
“Seriously? You want to talk?” she huffed.
That made Blue chuckle. “Just trying to be polite.”
“Just fuck me. You don’t have to like me. I don’t have to like you.”
“Okay then.” That was that. Was he satisfying her? He didn’t know and he didn’t care.
Blue kept going, then reached around the girl’s hip and started stroking her sweet little bud. He felt her tighten up andin minutes, she shrieked out a climax that sent him over the edge. Spent, he dropped down over her back and wrapped his arms around her, then kissed her temple. “That was good,” he moaned.
“It was okay,” she snapped.
“Don’t be like that, baby,” Blue whispered, trying hard not to laugh. He could play the good guy when he wanted to. “Want something to drink?”
“Yeah, sure, why not.” She struggled under him, so he rose and let her up, then stumbled into the kitchen, his jeans still around his thighs. After he’d taken a second to pull them up, he reached into the fridge and got two beers, twisting the caps off and tossing them into the overflowing garbage can. When he stepped back into the living room, she was sitting on the sofa, naked and sprawled out.She does this all the time, he couldn’t help but think.
“So, you live around here?” Blue asked, attempting to make conversation of some sort.
“Yeah. Over in Ridgewood.” The girl took a sip of the beer and made a face. “Hell, cheap-ass shit.”
“But it’ll still get your drunk on,” Blue announced, tipping the bottle toward her in a salute before downing half of it. What the hell was she complaining about? If she lived in Ridgewood, his cheap-ass beer was champagne to her.
“You haven’t even asked my name,” she pointed out, brow furrowed and eyebrows slanted toward her nose.
Blue just shrugged. “Why would I? I thought we didn’t have to like each other.”
The girl shook her head, sending her bleach blond hair weaving back and forth. “You got a big tee shirt or something?”
“Oh, yeah. Hang on.” Blue set his bottle down on the coffee table and shuffled off into the bedroom. He dug around and found an old John Deere tee shirt?god only knew wherethatcame from?and handed it to her when he returned to the living room. “Here. You can pretend you’re the farmer’s daughter,” he said with a laugh and downed the rest of his beer.
“Wanna go to the bedroom?” she asked, a coy smile on her face. Blue thought that was a little odd, but what the hell? More fun in the sack. Sounded good to him.
The birds were chirping and the sun shining when he opened his eyes the next morning. He didn’t remember much of the night before and, worse yet, his head was throbbing. One look across the bed told him the girl was gone. Had someone picked her up? He really didn’t think he’d driven her anywhere. Maybe he had. He couldn’t remember.
But when he dragged himself into the living room, his mouth fell open in disbelief. His TV was gone, and so was his stereo. His home theater system too. He checked the kitchen?his microwave was missing, along with his can opener, his toaster oven, and his PorkyPig cookie jar.Bitch stole my cookie jar!his brain screamed. Then something blistering and hot poured through his memory.
Sure enough, he yanked open the nightstand drawer and his pistol was gone. Worse yet, he’d bought it second-hand from a felon who worked at the sub shop down the street, so he had no paperwork on it, and it would be hard to report. But it had his fingerprints all over it, so that would be some kind of bad news if it wound up being used in a crime, and he was really afraid it might. He checked the box in the closet and all those guns were still there; she hadn’t found them. Blue had to believe she’d had someone come and pick her up. It only made sense. Then he remembered the trip to the bedroom for the tee shirt and he knew that had been her opportunity?she’d drugged him. No other explanation.
Blue called Turner to say he’d be late for work. “You’re already two hours late, dipshit,” Turner reminded him.
“I know that, Turdbucket. I told you what happened. I’ve got to call the cops and then I’ll be there.” Turner was mumbling some gripey shit when they hung up the phone.
The cops were supremely unhelpful. “So, what was this girl’s name?” a tall, blond officer asked Blue.
“I have no idea.”
“So you brought her back here and had sexual relations with her, and you have no idea what her name was?” the cop asked again.
“No. I have no idea. She asked if I wanted to know, and I asked her why I’d want to,” Blue explained. “She was a one-night stand, man, not a girlfriend.” Blue watched the officer’s face contort in disgust.Like you’ve never fucked somebody you pulled over for speeding, Blue thought, but he didn’t dare say it. He really wanted to, though?really, really wanted to.
As they stood there, he heard a sound and turned. Sure enough, it was the neighbor, and she had what looked like an almost malevolent grin splitting her face. Blue could tell she was delighted he was having some kind of difficulty that required law enforcement, so he just ignored her.
He decided that, regardless the repercussions, he’d better tell them about the gun, so he made up a story about how he’d gotten it from a friend and that he had no paperwork on it. He might still get in trouble, but at least if they had the police report, he had something to fall back on.
