Louis Fight

….“You’re seventeen and you never had a drink?” She spoke incredulously, placing both hands on her hips. “Nope,” was all he replied. “Well it’s about god damn time. What else haven’t you done?” Louis raised no more objections and accepted the glass she brought to him. This was a day for firsts. He sipped his wine as Fay stood directly in front of where he was seated and raised one foot behind her and then the other, to remove her shoes.
“I got batteries for the stereo.” Still directly in front of Louis, she spun around and bent over a portable cd player on the floor. Fay’s butt was large and round but firm, situated on meaty thighs that tapered from the knees to flexed muscular calves. She lingered over the cd’s before selecting a Simon and Garfunkel album. Once it was playing, she sat down on the sofa facing Louis, with one leg curled up underneath her and the other foot on the floor.
“So, you were telling me about track in the car. Timothy says you’re a star athlete.” She moved as if she were going to put her hand on his leg but altered the motion in time, and slapped her own thigh instead.
“I don’t know anything about being a star. We’ve got a lot of good runners. Arisha’s going to state for hurdles.” Louis slurped his wine compulsively.
“What do you compete in number..” She read the number off the track jersey he was wearing, “..nine.” She could not resist tracing the embroidered number on his chest with her finger. Louis seemed not to notice.
“I sprint mostly, sometimes I run distance. I’m going to run the hundred and the two-hundred at state but to be honest, most of the time I don’t know how long the race is until I cross the finish-line.” Fay laughed at this a little too loudly.
“Drink up, it’ll relax you. Tonight, you and I should ease off the reins a bit.” She stood up and padded across the carpet to the bar, her glass already drained. This time she returned with the bottle. Louis was still gulping in obedience to her last command when she motioned for him to hold out his half full glass for her to top off.
“Actually, I’m starting to worry about whether or not I can run at state. I fell in the meet a couple weeks ago and pulled something in my lower back. I walked it off then but, it’s really starting to slow me down. I haven’t told coach.” He squinted down at his wine, “You know I haven’t told anybody about that.” He looked up foggily and flashed his goofy grin. Fay tilted her head and smiled back. She tousled his hair. The effects of the wine were already evident in the way Louis’ speech ran too freely, without enough precision on the softer consonants. Fay’s eyes lit up.
“You told the right person. Growing up on a rodeo ranch, I learned to work out some serious bruises and sprains. I’ll give your back a try when you finish your drink.” Again he gulped wine in response to her encouragement. Fay stood up so her hips were at Louis’ seated eye-level and ran her hand down and over them, ostensibly to smooth and straighten her skirt, but in so doing she accentuated all of the luxurious curves that the skirt concealed. She padded on stocking feet to the entry for her purse. “I guess while Timothy’s gone I can smoke inside. You don’t mind, do you?” He frowned dismissively. Returning with her lit Capri 120, she tugged at her shirt to agitate the air trapped inside and said, “Two days in this heat without air conditioning is inhuman.” Fay bent over and rolled down her stockings. Louis watched unabashed, as he drank. When Fay looked up from pulling off her second stocking, she found him fixated on her legs, still holding his empty glass to his lips. “Finished your drink already? Well get on your stomach.” Louis seemed confused.
“Naw, it’s way down in my lower back and.. thanks anyway, but I’m fine.” She sat down next to him and watched him watch her cross her legs, while she refilled his glass again. “Don’t be shy.” She purred. By the time he had finished another glass of Merlot she had him persuaded.
Louis lowered himself onto the floor and stuck his hand down the front of his pants to arrange his testicles between his legs so no weight rested on them. Fay straddled him, distributing her weight between his butt and her knees on the floor by his hips. She started with his neck and shoulders, arms, even fingers but soon she had localized the problem, and concentrated on kneading his buttock exclusively. She had to position herself lower and still her hands worked between her own legs. She rocked back and forth to add the force of her weight behind her fingers. She rubbed him this way for about ten minutes, during which time Louis’ mind reeled, clinging desperately to slipping awareness and control. When she finished she rolled him over to reveal a besotted smirk. “Better?” she asked and he continued to smirk and nodded. She rested her head against his chest and lay her leg over his, and they lay together on the carpet.
“Thanks a lot Fay.” He looked down at the tangle of dyed blond hair on his chest. “You know, I used to think you didn’t like me.” Her eyes grew large and vulnerable as she looked back up at him from inside that tangle of hair. “Of course I like you, honey. I love you.” She parted her peroxide veil and brought her lips to his. Fay kissed Louis. He kissed her back, thoughtlessly. They both lapsed into a silence which was broken when Fay attacked Louis with merciless tickling, to which he proved highly susceptible. She did not relent until after she had forced him to sit up in order to assure his defense. In the wake of their horseplay, his single good-humored voice sounded hollow. “So Fay, you found out all this about me. What about you, your family, interests, whatever.” She cocked her head. “Well.. I’ve got pictures of my family. Do you want to look at my photo album?”
“Sure,” he said.
“Another glass of wine?”
“Sure,” he said. He fumbled around for his glass and held it out for her. When she filled it he immediately drained it in a gulp, but then he had to shut his eyes tightly, as if in concentration. Fay gave him a hand up. “You sure you never had a drink before?” She did not let go of his hand once he was on his feet. By the hand, she led him to her bedroom. Woo woo woo, sang Simon and Garfunkel, woo woo woo….

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