Читать книгу SKANKS - Keaton Albertson - Страница 6

Most of the fine-trimmed females who I knew as a teenager did not attend my local high school. The real top shelf honies resided in outlying communities and went to rival schools. Thus, my friends and I had to travel abroad to the many neighboring farming towns that surrounded our quaint valley in order to hook up with the quality specimens. It was in one such small municipality where I had met Sofia, a sexy Hispanic girl who lived some fifteen miles away from me, on the opposite side of the county from where Kmart Cowboy had taken me to visit Jamie. Conveniently enough, another one of my associates, Archimedes, was dating Sofia’s friend during the length of my sexual undertaking with the dark-skinned consort. Thus, although I did not have my own auto with which to drive to Sofia’s house, transportation services were readily made available to me through Archimedes, who proved to be much more reliable than the flannel shirt attired buckaroo.

Sofia was the first Latina who had sexually molested me. She had long, black hair, plump breasts, and a beautifully bronzed complexion. Sofia was a nineteen-year old, legal adult when she first started using me for her selfish pleasure. I was still a minor and was in my junior year of high school at the time. I never reported to anyone about the sexual abuse that I had endured at the soft hands of my hyna, simply because I liked it and I certainly did not want her to stop.

On one particular winter weekend, Sofia and I met up with Archimedes and his girlfriend for a double date. My Hispanic hussy had borrowed her mother’s car for the evening and we all piled into the vehicle to drive over to the movie theater to catch a film. While traveling to our destination through the snow-covered roads, Archimedes began receiving some road dome in the backseat of Sofia’s car from his girlfriend. Not to be outdone by my buddy, I took it upon myself to perform cunnilingus upon Sofia while she was driving. Before we made it halfway down the street from Archimedes’ house, I was crawling around on the floorboards of Sofia’s car and soon had my head stuffed deep into her groin.

By no means am I a contortion expert but, fortunately for me, Sofia was a small girl, standing just under five feet tall. So maneuvering her right leg over the top of my head while she was driving did not require much dexterity. And since her mother’s car had an automatic transmission, we did not lose any cruising speed when I momentarily lifted the chicana’s foot from off the accelerator. But once my head was positioned near her felted mound, Sofia experienced some difficulty reaching the brake.

I initially pelted Sofia’s alcove through her sweatpants with my tongue. Moments later, as my tongue began to dry out from licking the cotton material, I escalated the eroticism and reached for her waistband. From years of practice, simultaneously pulling down Sofia’s sweatpants together with her panties came as no chore. But doing so while she was driving was a novel experience to me. Just the same, I soon had the hot Latina’s undergarments down around her ankles and her moist cooch was exposed to my face. Sofia’s dainty vagina was nothing short of splendid, both in taste and texture. Despite the fact that she sported a healthy bush of thick pubic hair, her labia were quite soft and form-fitted to my mouth, almost as if her cooter was custom made for me.

As I sloshed out my hyna’s soft cum canal, she began to lose focus on her driving. Sofia inadvertently began to speed up and did not see a sharp turn in the icy road ahead. Failing to make the turn, she drove straight off the road without being able to hit the brakes. Thereafter, her mother’s car collided into a dirt embankment that ran parallel to the road. All sexual activity inside the car came to an abrupt halt once the car jeered sideways and slammed into the immovable obstacle.

Lying on my back, I looked up at Sofia’s naked thighs above me. She remained sitting behind the wheel. My left ear was resting upon the brake pedal of the car.

“What happened?” Archimedes asked, collecting himself from the backseat. “Keaton? … Hey, Keaton where you at?”

“I’m down here, man.”

Archimedes leaned forward in his seat and laughed. “What the hell are you doing down there?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

“Just fine, dude,” I replied, waving his gaze away from Sofia’s exposed bottom half. “Handle your own business back there.”

Archimedes withdrew himself from peering over the headrest and I heard him zip up his pants from the confines of the backseat. While he was doing so, Sofia slowly pulled up her sweatpants. I took the opportunity to right myself into the passenger seat.

Once everyone was fully clothed, I took the initiative to attempt to exit the wrecked vehicle. Giving my passenger door a nudge, I disappointedly discovered that it refused to open. “My door’s stuck,” I announced. “It’s wedged up against this dirt heap!”

In a move of pure chivalry, Archimedes climbed over the top of his girlfriend and bailed out the rear door. He failed to ask his girlfriend if she had been hurt during the crash. “We can get out this way!” he hollered back into the car after he abandoned his female.

I assisted my chicana in exiting out her door and then we rescued Archimedes’s girlfriend from the car. Both girls remained silent thereafter, Sofia seemingly in shock. Archimedes and I looked over my Mexi-friend’s car and found it inextricably wedged into the embankment, it having come to rest along a crest of large rocks. Two of the wheels were not touching the ground. Within short order, a police cruiser pulled up behind us, having apparently been called by a neighbor who had observed the accident. We all huddled around each other in the cold while the police officer took a statement.

“These roads are pretty treacherous out tonight,” the officer stated, jotting down some notes into a small pad of paper. “Were you all speeding?”

“No,” I stated. “We were going the speed limit but we must have hit some black ice on this turn. It sent us right off the road.”

The officer looked at me with a suspicious expression. “Were you driving this vehicle, young man?”

“No, sir, this is her car,” I replied, pointing at Sofia. “She was driving.”

“And what might your name be, young lady?”

Homegirl did not respond. Instead, she just clung onto my midsection, shivering. “Her name is Sofia,” I stated. “She’s a bit shook up from all this.”

“I see. And she is your girlfriend I take it?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” I stated.

“Well, I’m going to need everyone’s names and ages,” the officer said to all of us. “And if you have any IDs on you, I’m going to need those too.” He then tapped Sofia on the shoulder. “Miss, I’m going to need to see a copy of your license and registration.”

After the formalities were taken care of, the officer then assessed the extent of the damage that was done to Sofia’s mother’s car. He quickly determined that the vehicle was unable to be moved from its location without mechanical assistance. “Do you all need for me to call you a tow truck?” the officer asked us.

“I think we can just have one of my buddies come over and pull us out,” I announced.

The police officer was kind enough to contact another friend of mine to come to our aid. Several minutes later, Dirty showed up on the scene in his pickup truck. He brought with him some towing chains and we quickly began securing the rear of Sofia’s car to his tow hook.

“How the hell did she drive this damn thing into the rocks?” Dirty asked me while we were both beneath Sofia’s car attaching the towing chains in the snow.

“Dude, the streets are covered with ice,” I explained. “You damn near slid into the police cruiser on the way over here. I saw you skidding around that corner up there.”

Dirty offered me an incredulous glare. “Why you gotta bullshit me, man?”

“What do you mean?”

“You were doing some freaky shit in the car while she was driving, weren’t you?”

I looked up to where the cop was standing to verify that he was out of earshot. “Come on, dude, keep it down,” I said to Dirty.

“I knew it!” Dirty stated. “You slimy bastard.”

“Shut your ass up and get those chains secured,” I directed.

After several attempts at pulling and tugging on the tow chains with Dirty’s truck, Sofia’s car was successfully recovered from the embankment. I thanked Dirty for his services and sent him on his way. The police officer left the scene without issuing Sofia a ticket and all parties were safely transported home.

It turned out that no significant damage was done to Sofia’s auto, as it was operational enough to make the journey back to her house, having only suffered a few dents and cosmetic damage. My personal integrity, however, did not fare as well. I did not heed my own wisdom regarding appropriate sexual conduct with females: I had neglected Sofia’s cones throughout this entire occurrence.

~*~*~*~

Maintaining a faux relationship with a sex partner while balancing out time for vandalism activities with my friends often proved cumbersome during my adolescence. I periodically had to utilize a day planner to coordinate different events, as to squeeze in time for socially deviant escapades between evenings when I allowed Sofia to violate my body. My efforts to harmonize my endeavors did not always run smoothly, however. There was one occasion when I double-booked myself.

Shortly after I accepted an invitation from Sofia’s parents to their home for dinner one wintery night, I realized that I had previously made plans with two my friends, Dirty and Rat, to go out mailboxing. After much deliberation, it was decided amongst my friends and I that they could pick me up at Sofia’s house after midnight. At which point, we could then proceed to destroy mailboxes on the drive home. The late night hour, as it was rationalized, would provide additional protection from any persons who might take notice of our nocturnal misdeeds.

With my plan in motion, I enjoyed a wonderful meal at the home of Sofia’s parents. The Hispanic whore’s mother and father engaged in meaningful conversation with me while they dined. They talked about how astounding of a human being I was and how kindly I treated their beloved daughter, although it was readily obvious that I was several years her junior and that I was only being used by her for my wonderful wiener. While Sofia’s parents hailed my niceties and neglected the obvious sexual exploitation at hand, I kept an eye on my watch, anticipating the activities that I had planned after midnight with my friends.

After we finished dinner, Sofia and I lounged around inside the living room and watched television together with her parents. For an older couple, Sofia’s parents demonstrated a great deal of physical affection toward one another. This poignant display of intimacy made me feel uncomfortable, especially when their wrinkled faces would touch and they started kissing. After nearly an hour of being privy to the sensuality of the senior citizens, Sofia’s parents finally retired to their bedroom, leaving me alone with my hyna.

Although watching Sofia’s parents fondle each other put quite the damper on the excitement phase of my sexual response cycle, the hot Latina managed to make up for the obstruction. Once we were alone, our necking behaviors escalated into heavy petting. Long moments of kissing provided segue into even longer periods of caressing. Just as the eroticism began to intensify, Sofia abruptly stopped her sensual movements and advised me that she was going to her bedroom to change clothes. While she did so, I continued lying on her couch inside her parents’ living room, looking forward to what was going to happen next.

A few moments later, my chicana returned to the living room, wearing nothing more than a white, silk nightshirt. The ivory white sheen of the fabric completely contrasted her dark complexion; the big buttons of the nightshirt were accentuated by Sofia’s dark areola, which were clearly visible through the semi-transparent material. Upon seeing her reenter the living room, I was entranced by her beauty. I was unable to speak or breathe, much less move. My catatonic state was quickly cured once Sofia returned to the couch and resumed rubbing her hands all over my excited body.

I began kissing down the center of Sofia’s cleavage while parting her nightshirt, exposing her firm breasts. Taking her nipple between my lips, I felt the darkened tip swell inside my mouth. I gingerly plucked upon the apex of her opposite breast, causing her other nipple to become engorged. Once I began to sense the feminine aroma of passion, I kissed down Sofia’s stomach and slowly lapped up the moisture between her curvy legs. My mouth explored her clitoris as I simultaneously unbuckled my pants and pulled them to my knees. Lifting up her smooth thighs from off the couch, I sunk the large head of my swollen member inside my hyna’s meat curtains. She let out a sultry moan as her tight crawl space offered moderate resistance to my penetration. With a few pumps, my thick shaft slowly disappeared inside her body, inch by solid inch, until all nine were completely enveloped by her meat wallet.

As my long strokes brushed against Sofia’s cervix, she became increasingly more aroused in response to my masculine maneuvers. When the sultry Latina climaxed for the fourth time as I was releasing my load of sex syrup inside her, I thought for sure that her parents would come barging out of their bedroom in response to hearing their daughter’s feminine eminence of pleasure. But, instead, I heard a knock on the front door.

I withdrew from Sofia’s wishing well and looked behind me from my prone position on the couch. I witnessed the faces of Dirty and Rat peering at me through the glass of the front door, cackling and giggling to each other. Grasping a nearby blanket, I covered Sofia’s naked body and waved the voyeurs away.

“I have to go,” I said to the lusty chicana.

“Mmmm…” she replied in a sensual moan. “Are you sure?”

I looked back over my shoulder at the shadowy figures who were lurking on the front porch. “Yeah,” I said. “My friends are here. I gotta go.”

“Can’t they come back later? I’m not done with you yet.”

“You can have me any time,” I stated. “But I have some things I have to go take care of right now.”

Sofia kissed my neck. “What’s more important than being with me right now?”

The thought of smashing a mailbox with Dirty’s folding army shovel ripped through my mind. “Nothing,” I lied to my girlfriend. ”But it’s getting late and they’re giving me a ride home.”

Sofia pouted. “Okay. Call me later?”

“Sure,” I replied. I gave Sofia’s body one last string of kisses from between her breasts, down to her waistline, and then I got up from the couch. After I pulled up my drawers and tucked away my jizz-coated equipment inside my boxers, I made my way out of the Mexican love nest and joined my friends on her front porch. I was greeted with smirks and poorly contained laughter from Dirty and Rat.

Once we began motoring down the road in Rat’s shitbox Chevy, my friends could contain their laughter no more. They both began to crack up, chuckling loudly. “What the hell are you assholes laughing about?” I asked, looking from Rat behind the wheel of his car to Dirty in the backseat. “How long were you guys spying on me?”

“Long enough,” Dirty replied, while Rat continued to laugh out loud.

I shook my head in disbelief. “You guys need to get a life of your own and stop soaking up mine,” I said.

“It looked like the windows were getting a little foggy in there,” Dirty mentioned in jest.

“Hey, what can I say?” I retorted. “Sofia’s parents keep the heat up pretty hot inside their house.”

Rat continued to laugh as he drove. “So are you all relaxed now?” he asked.

“I’m a little tired, yeah,” I responded.

“No, I mean are you relaxed now?” Rat asked again, gesturing to my lap.

I looked down and witnessed a massive cum stain covering my upper thigh and groin area.

“Dude, that ain’t mine,” I proclaimed.

“Say what?” Dirty asked, leaning forward from the backseat and looking around to me. He too noticed the soggy stain on my pants and started laughing uncontrollably once again.

“I don’t know what happened,” I said, pointing to the wet spot on my pants. “But that was her. It definitely wasn’t me.”

“R-ight,” Rat said.

“Dude, just shut the hell up and drive,” I commanded.

After we reached a few more miles toward home, Rat began navigating his car through a residential street. Without saying a word, Dirty handed to me a folding army shovel that he had transported in the back of Rat’s car. I unhinged the scoop of the shovel and locked the passenger door. As I was rolling down the window, Rat slowed his car and began driving very close to a row of mailboxes. I hung my torso out the window and batter-upped with the shovel. Swinging at the first mailbox, I entirely missed the target. With my second swing, I managed only to scrape the side portion of the next mail receptacle. I struck out on my third attempt, only being able to bash the shovel against the metal pole that secured the final mailbox, which caused my arms to reverberate with pain.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Dirty accosted me. “Those mailboxes are so close that my mirror is damn near touching them! And you can’t hit them with that shovel?”

Despite the notable exhilaration of the situation at hand, I felt very relaxed. Every muscle in my body felt like Jell-O and my limbs seemed to move at slow motion. Nestled into the resolution phase of my sexual response cycle, all I wanted to do was go to sleep in my post-nut haze. “I’m just feeling a little tired right now,” I mumbled to my friends, attempting to defend myself.

“Bullshit,” Dirty countered. “You just got through blowing your wad with that wetback hussy and now you can’t do shit. Rat, pull over. Let me show you boys how to play some mailbox baseball.”

Rat did as Dirty told him to and I switched seats with my friend. Once Rat resumed driving down the residential street, nearing the next row of mailboxes, Dirty began smashing the targeted mail receptacles with great ease. He ripped through the aluminum of several mailboxes, slicing them with the edge of the shovel scoop. Dirty then turned the scoop vertically and bludgeoned the next row of targets, each of his swings landing perfect hits. With the three of us laughing up a storm, I quickly felt that Dirty was taking up all the fun.

I convinced Rat to pull over once more so that I could redeem myself with our mailboxing activity. With the army shovel again in my grasp, Rat navigated his car down a new road. I started to swing at the fast approaching mailboxes. But, much to my misfortune, I struck out again. Hanging my head in shame, I handed the shovel back to Dirty. “Sorry, guys,” I managed to speak. “I just don’t feel up for this right now. I feel too relaxed and weak to do anything. I need a refractory period before I can perform again. Just give me a few minutes.”

“That does it,” Dirty stated. “No more hooking up with females before we go out and have fun! You need your vandal stamina!”

The rest of the drive home was spent in silence, largely because I had fallen asleep while Rat was driving. Since the conclusion of that evening, it was firmly decided by all parties involved that the mixing of female companionship on the same nights that devious endeavors were conducted would be strictly prohibited.

~*~*~*~

Not long after my foiled mailboxing activity, I was sitting in my bedroom late Friday night, listening to the title track from Digital Underground’s Sex Packets album when my thoughts started to drift away into lasciviousness. The sullen beats of the song’s bass loop, combined with the sexually laden lyrics, caused me to reminisce over the tangy taste of Sofia’s fly catcher. I considered making a booty call but then realized that I had no means of transportation to my mistress’ house at the midnight hour on such short notice. I could usually manipulate Rat into bumming me a ride on such occasions but not tonight; he was in Florida for family vacation. Then I remembered that Rat usually kept a spare set of keys to his shitbox Chevrolet hidden inside his car just in case his father took away his driving privileges, which occurred rather frequently. Since Rat was unavailable to help facilitate my wanton needs, I decided to borrow his car while he was away enjoying his holiday.

To sneak out of my parents’ house, I removed the screen from my bedroom window, crawled up through the window well, and pulled close the glass behind me. Keeping to the shadows, I chugged down the street toward Rat’s house. I quickly located his vehicle that was parked on the curb beside his home and found the doors unlocked. With a quick search of the interior I located the spare key that was found hidden in the ashtray. The car started right up and I swiftly drove it out of the neighborhood. I waited for a few blocks before I activated the headlights and picked up speed.

Several minutes later, I arrived to the adjacent town where my hyna lived. I stealthily parked the confiscated vehicle a few houses down the street from her parents’ residence. I then made the rest of the journey through the dark streets on foot. Jumping the yard fence, I crept across Sofia’s lawn toward her basement window and made my presence known with a small knock. My Latina girlfriend quickly came to the window and slid it open.

“Keaton, what are you doing?” she whispered with an amalgamation of worry and excitement.

“I came to see you,” I smoothly replied. “You gonna let me in or what? It’s cold out here.”

Sofia cleared off the top of her dresser, which just so happened to be placed immediately below her bedroom window. I crawled through the window opening, crouched atop her dresser, and then hopped down upon the floor.

“How did you get here?” Sofia asked while hugging on me.

“I have my ways, baby,” I responded, while feeling a rush of blood surge into my hungry belly breacher, anticipating what was about to unfold. “You know that I can’t stand being too far away from you. I go through withdrawals and stuff.”

The Hispanic hussy shivered from the chill coming through the open window. “It’s cold,” she said, grabbing her arms together. I closed the window, just as Sofia jumped back into her comfortable bed. In a moment’s notice, I stripped off my clothes and joined her beneath the covers. Making out maneuvers commenced. As my hands were roaming around lusty Latina’s soft body, I came to the pleasant discovery that she was not wearing any undergarments beneath her oversized, baggy shirt.

“Hey, isn’t this my shirt?” I said to Sofia after I noticed that she was wearing a shirt of mine that had mysteriously came up missing from my bedroom a few weeks earlier. “I was wondering where this went…”

“I was going to give it back,” she replied, while moving erotically in response to my caresses. “But it smells like you and it’s real comfortable.”

“It doesn’t fit you,” I said, while slowly removing the article of clothing from off Sofia’s bare torso. “I want it back.” I repossessed my stolen shirt, wadded it up, and tossed it on the floor beside the bed. “That shirt looks much better on the floor,” I commented, glancing over the chicana’s nude body through the moonlight that shined through her window.

Before I could heave in another breath, Sofia pushed me to my back, grasped my erect taco jabber, and straddled atop me. She hoisted herself up on her knees and inserted my bratwurst into her soggy snatch, pausing every inch or so to brace herself from the massive girth that was probing into her body. Once she managed to sheath the entire length of my baby leg, my hyna began to ride my long ranger with undulating hip movements. Her rhythm became increasingly faster until the box springs of her daybed started to creak and then finally caused the headboard to break loose from the frame bolts on one corner. While still inserted inside her dripping doughnut, I pulled Sofia’s body into me, held her by the waist and stood up from the broken bed. I then kneeled down on her floor and splayed her finely sculptured body out before me. Caressing her firm breasts, I sunk deep into her, tickling her belly from the inside with my beefy pole.

Over the next thirty minutes or so, I turned Sofia’s darkened bedroom into an adult filming studio, concocting every position imaginable. After I worked the luscious Latina over to the point of exhaustion from her multiple orgasms, I squirted a thick load of sour cream inside her soft taco and then carried her back to the traumatized bed. Drained of my vital bodily fluids, I fell asleep beside Sofia with her naked body intertwined with mine.

I woke up at about three in the morning to the sounds of approaching footsteps across the kitchen floor above my head. “Get up!” Sofia said to me in a hoarse whisper. “That’s my mom. She’s going to see your car. Where did you park?”

“I’m down the road,” I mumbled, still being half asleep. “Don’t worry. It’s cool.”

“She comes down here all the time,” Sofia whispered while pushing me out of her slanted bed. “She don’t sleep very good and she usually wakes me up to talk.”

Energy surged through my body at the thought of the chicana’s mother catching me inside her daughter’s bedroom in the wee hours of the morning. I bailed out of the busted bed and scavenged some clothes from off the bedroom floor. As I was pulling on a pair of pants in the early morning darkness, I quickly came to realize that they came nowhere close to fitting me. By the time that I figured out that I had inadvertently scooped up a pair of Sofia’s pants from off the floor it was too late. Her mother was heard descending the stairs toward the open doorway.

A look of dread shot across my hyna’s face. I quickly kicked off her Guess jeans and scurried into her closet. With wire hangers falling down and sticking into my body at various angles, I pulled the hinged closet door closed, just as Sofia’s mother came walking into the bedroom.

My heart pounded with exhilaration as I peered out of the vents that lined the partitioned slabs of the closet door. I feared that the old woman would notice the unkempt nature of her daughter’s bedroom following the marathon sex session, take note of the destroyed bed, or perhaps spot my clothing or shoes upon the floor. Apparently unaware of the evidence of my presence that surrounded her, I watched as Sofia’s mother sat down upon the destroyed bed, carrying with her what appeared to be a wedding dress in her arms. A mother-daughter conversation then followed that concerned the elderly woman wanting Sofia to use her wedding dress for what she believed would be an inevitable union between Sofia and I. An uncomfortable exchange took place, as my hyna’s mother urged her to climb out of bed to try the dress on. Naked, and still with large amounts of cum stains upon the bed sheets, surrounding carpet, and caked around her inner thighs, Sofia awkwardly declined her mother’s suggestion and remained concealed beneath the covers.

“Well, alright then,” her mother finally conceded. “I guess I’ll just hang this up in your closet and you can store it down here until the time is right.” The aging woman stood up and approached the closet door. “You really should keep the fabric protected, though. Maybe we can get a dry cleaning bag to wrap it in for awhile.”

Trapped, I tried to inch my way further into the closet to avoid detection. My back pushed snugly against the inner wall. I had nowhere to go. With my raw rod dangling inelegantly beneath my legs and my nude body still smelling like sex, I closed my eyes and braced myself for the inevitable embarrassment that was about to transpire.

“Okay, I guess I’ll try it on!” Sofia blurted out from her bedside.

I opened my eyes and witnessed the shadow of Sofia’s mother abruptly turn around to face her daughter.

“Honey! What are you doing sleeping without any clothes on? Oh my gosh!”

“I just got really hot last night and couldn’t sleep,” Sofia stated, snatching the wedding dress from her mother’s arms and using the gown to cover up her bare body. “It’s no big deal.”

“Well, it most certainly is a big deal, young lady. Why, I never slept in the nude before and you—”

“—Look, mom, do you want me to try this on or not?”

A sharp silence permeated the air, mixing into the lingering scent of semen. I leaned forward ever so slightly to get a better look out of the door vents.

“Can you give me a little privacy so I can change?” Sofia asked her mother in an annoyed voice.

“Yes, dear,” the old woman responded, her tone lightening somewhat with her daughter’s compliance. “I’ll be right back. I’ll go wake your father!”

As the elderly woman shuffled out of Sofia’s bedroom and made it up the stairs, my Hispanic honey pot quickly tossed the wedding dress onto her bed and turned on a nearby lamp. She opened the closet doors and said to me, “Quick, get your clothes!”

I searched the bedroom floor and rapidly located my disrobed apparel. After yanking on my own pair of pants, I stuffed my head into my shirt, pocketed my socks, and slipped on my shoes. I then scaled the dresser by the window like a professional rock climber and slid open Sofia’s window. “I’ll see ya later,” I said to my concubine, while pausing to climb out the windowsill.

“Call me,” Sofia replied with a kiss.

“Okay—bye!”

“Oh, wait!” Sofia called out. I looked back to see her extending to me my worn boxers inside her hand. “Don’t forget these.”

I smiled, grabbed my underwear from her, and made it through the bedroom window as fast as I could. With my crusty boxers clenched in my fist, I ran across Sofia’s front lawn and jumped the border fence. I quickly relocated Rat’s stolen car that I had parked down the street and boarded inside. Still groggy, I threw my boxers into the passenger seat and cranked over the motor. I drove back home, reaching over seventy miles per hour down the abandoned country road.

I reached town at about half past three. As I was rocketing down Main Street, I was surprised to see a pair of headlights blink into my rearview. The vehicle quickly accelerated from behind me and I slowed down to the appropriate speed limit. I feared that a cop had spotted me racing through town in the stolen car. Or maybe my parents had realized that I was gone and were out looking for me. Instead, I was pleasantly surprised when Suave, a good friend of mine, pulled his stepfather’s aging sedan from behind me and sped up to drive beside Rat’s car. We both rolled down our respective windows to yell at each other.

“You fuckin’ stole Rat’s car, man!” Suave shouted out to me from across his bench seat. “Oh my hell!”

“It was absolutely necessary!” I shouted back through the wind passing between our two moving vehicles. “I needed to make an ass run!”

“Hey! Pull over up there!”

I pulled Rat’s car to the side of the road as Suave parked his car behind me. He jumped out of the cab and ran up alongside the shitbox Chevy. “Let me in, dude,” he said, yanking the door open. “Let me drive.”

“What for?” I asked.

“‘Cause I wanna take this thing for a little ride. Here, scoot over.”

“Fuck you, man. I stole this thing fair and square. I gotta take it back before someone notices that it was gone.”

Suave cocked his head and glared at me. “We’re talking about Rat here. Who’s going to care that someone stole his car? I mean, seriously.”

“Good point,” I said, lifting my legs up across the shifter to seat myself in the passenger side.

After commandeering the vehicle, Suave decided to use the stolen car to go cruising along some of the side streets that had various dips and inclines built into their uneven surfaces. One such intersection was known as “Lucy’s Leap,” where many teenagers had previously bottomed out their transmission bell housings and undercarriages of their parents’ vehicles. Evidence of prior misguided navigation attempts across Lucy’s Leap were found etched and chiseled into the asphalt from where many vehicles had previously left scrape marks from driving too fast over the wretched lump in the road. Suave sought to etch in a few more deep scratches into the incline and repeatedly raced Rat’s car up and over Lucy’s Leap, gaining several inches of air on each pass, and shooting up streams of sparks upon colliding with the hard street on the other side.

Rather than turning at the designated intersection where everyone else did to make these historic passes over Lucy’s Leap, Suave took the shitbox Chevy a few blocks further on each end of the incline to navigate a turn and get more distance with which to accelerate. After a dozen or so passes, Suave began whipping around the turns faster and with more confidence. During our final pass, Suave took the intersection turn too wide and sunk the side of the car into a spring ditch that paralleled one of the side roads. Both passenger side wheels went into the ditch, high-centering the small car on the embankment. Fortunately, the ditch was rather narrow but the car tilted over in such a manner that the entire right side was smashed up against the opposite bank of the ditch, preventing me from opening the passenger side door.

“Son of a bitch!” I exclaimed. “This is the second time in four months that I’ve been sitting in a car, stuck in a god damn ditch.”

“We just fucked up Rat’s car,” Suave pointed out, as he began laughing hysterically. “That was cool.”

“Yeah, no shit. Let’s get out of here!”

Suave exited the car through the driver side and I scaled over the gearshift and seats to follow him. Once we were both outside of the stolen auto, we examined the situation and determined that it was hopeless. The car was wedged into the spring ditch and could not be moved.

“What the hell are we gonna do now?” Suave asked, still laughing over the situation.

“Fuck it,” I said. “Let’s just go. Your stepdad’s car isn’t too far from here. Let’s just walk.”

Suave continued to laugh. “What about Rat’s car?”

I shrugged my shoulders with indifference. “Who cares? It ain’t ours. Rat don’t know we have it. For all he knows, some stranger jacked it and wrecked it into the ditch. Let’s just get out of here.”

“Alright,” Suave agreed, turning away from the wreckage.

We began walking down the street for Suave’s vehicle, leaving Rat’s car for whoever might want it. A truck soon pulled over beside us and the teenage driver rolled down his window to speak. “Ya’ll need some help?” he asked.

“With what?” I replied.

“Ain’t that yer car back there in the ditch?”

“Well, we were driving it, if that’s what you mean,” Suave said.

We both looked at each other in a dismissive manner and then continued trudging ahead.

“Don’t ya’ll want some help getting it out of the ditch?” the kid asked as we were walking away from him.

Suave and I looked back at the kid, stunned by the inquiry. We had written the vehicle off and never thought of salvaging it or asking for help to get it out of the ditch. But help was offered nonetheless.

“Um, I guess so,” I replied.

“Yeah, sure,” Suave half-heartedly added.

The driver coincidentally had a set of towing belts in the back of his pickup, as if he had done this type of thing before and prided himself on helping others pull their wrecks out of ditches. Perhaps he was patrolling the city streets, looking for stranded peers to aid with his services. Regardless, Suave and I stood by as the kid backed up his truck, snatched up the towing belts, secured the shitbox Chevy to his towing ball, and yanked the wedged vehicle out of the ditch. We sarcastically thanked the young lad and then the kid drove off with a big grin on his face, apparently feeling like he had just accomplished something chivalrous.

I reacquired the shitbox Chevy and immediately drove it back to Rat’s house. When Rat returned home from his family vacation several days later, he discovered that his car had a severe steering malfunction, a broken suspension, and several sizeable dents along the passenger side body. I had a difficult time explaining how a pair of my dirty boxers were found inside of his ride that was mysteriously left all fucked up on the curb beside his house. I nonetheless vehemently denied any involvement in the affair.