It’s Independence Day

"Why?" my sister asks.

"I need to be alone for awhile."

"Just go next door."

"Don't mother me."

I get in the car and leave. Rather than Wal-Mart, I try the Love's where 36 and T meet. I'm in luck.

"Hopin' for a big weekend?" the cowboy — and I do mean boy — behind the counter asks me. His hat is too big for his head and rests on his ears.

"Don't need to hope," I answer, holding the box up. "These are not aspirational."

I know he has no idea what I mean.

"I've got a sure thing," I clarify.

"What's her name?"

"Freddy."

"I like when girls are named after boys."

"He is not a girl," I say, hitting the "he" as hard as I can, winking, turning, and sauntering out, giving him a little hither and yon as I do. I want to turn around and watch the cowboy pick his mandible off the floor, but I don't dare. He may have a gun pointed at me.

I discard the box before I leave the parking lot. Fearing any type of exposure through my trunks, I slip the condoms inside the lining, behind my balls.

I am too cautious. When I return to the houses, everyone is in the water. I walk to the A-Frame, hide the condoms in the toes of my tennis shoes, and head down myself. I settle into a chair in the shade and watch my nephews and their friends get lit.

I'm impatient. I want movement toward a nap, so I can claim my reward for staying and fuck Freddy for one of the last times.

"I'm tired," I finally say, standing up and heading to the A-frame. "I'm going to go take a nap."

That's exactly what I end up doing. I lie down in the loft and fall asleep waiting for Freddy. When I wake up about two hours later, I am still alone. I put on shorts and a t-shirt and try to conceal my pique.

My sister and her husband are watching TV in the living room. The boys are all playing beer pong on the deck. They are all drunk, slurring and staggering.

I glare at Freddy, grab a bowl of gumbo, and head back to the A-Frame. I eat and then pace. My glare was clear. It was a "come the fuck with me" glare. He doesn't.

I go back to the house, get my Tito's and two cans of Fresca, and head back to the A-Frame. If I am going to be alone, I am going to be drunk.

It is dark when Freddy finally shows up. We are both drunk when he does.

He tries to climb into bed with me. I try to thwart him. I am being petulant. We exchange words.

"What was I supposed to do? No one else went for naps. If I had, it would have looked awfully suspicious. And, no one else wanted to go to bed. I'm the first, and I'm here only because I was miserable knowing you were and I wasn't."

He has points. My sister is a hawk. She'd notice if Freddy and I were the only ones napping, and she'd figure out a reason to investigate. A locked door would only pique her interest. She'd go full Pink Panther after that.

Still, I can't give in. I know I am the one acting immaturely, but I can't rescue myself from myself.

"YouK," Freddy finally says. "It's our last night together. It can be a bad one or a good one. It's up to you."

I'm rescued. I close my eyes and calm myself. "Come here," I finally say.

"I'm glad you chose 'good one'," he says, when he's settled next to me. "Do you think if we kiss the room'll stop spinning?"

"I hope so."

"Me, too."

We kiss and kiss and kiss.

The room keeps spinning as we do.

"I think we need to stand up," I say.

"Me, too."

I turn Freddy toward the wall. He braces his hands against it. I undo the string to his shorts and tug them down. I retrieve a condom and then prepare us both. I slide into him from behind. He arches his back, and I take his hips in my hands.

"Oh my God," he says. "I think this is the deepest ever."

I think he's right. It sure feels like it.

"Talk dirty," I whisper in his ear.

"Your wish is my command. . . . Fuck me, YouK . . . . Give me all you've got."

"You like that?"

"I do. I like it a lot. But, I'd like it better if you could go harder."

"Like that?"

"Yeah, but harder."

I'm hitting him as hard I can. My hips are pounding against his cheeks.

"Slow down," he says. I do. When I do, he removes his hands from the wall, stands up straight, and reaches them behind my head. One of my hands is on his stomach and the other is on his chest. He turns his face to mine and we kiss. I move inside of him as much as I can, but there's no leverage. Our kiss ends, and Freddy moves his hands back to the wall. I move my hands to his hips and start back at him.

"Oh fuck, yeah, give it to me."

"You're getting all I've got."

"Give it all to me."

"Squeeze my dick with your ass, Freddy. Squeeze my dick."

He clenches and I almost come to a dead stop. I have no idea how he does that, but I like it. I immediately start to come.

I feel him reach for himself. I stop him.

"Don't."

I don't want whatever he's stored up to be wasted. I want to take it and keep it.

When I'm finished, I spin Freddy around, pin his back to the wall, and drain him with my mouth. It doesn't take long for him to give me what I want. I take it and keep it. I fall back onto my haunches. Freddy slides down the wall. We crawl back to the mattress. We remove whatever clothing we had not yet removed, slide under the comforter, and hold each other.

I return to an earlier conversation. "You have a pocket pussy?"

"I do. I have a lot of toys."

"Like what?"

"A fleshlight or two. A vibrator or two. A dildo or two."

"How do you explain them to women?"

"I use them on women, dumbass."

"Oh."

"And myself."

"Obviously."

A pillow hits me in the dark. I start laughing and can't stop, the image of Freddy home alone with a dildo up his ass too much for even my fecund imagination to handle.

Freddy stops my laughter with his mouth. We kiss and kiss and kiss and I roll on top of him.

"YouK, I think I'm a one and done tonight," he says. "You were, uh, kind of rough on me."

"You begged me to be."

"I know, but that doesn't mean I want you to be again."

"What if I'm gentle?"

"What if we wait until the morning?"

"I'm really horny."

"Then let me fuck you again. I'm ready."

He presses his erection against my hip. He is, in fact, ready.

I decide "why not." I retrieve a second condom, open it, and slide it over him.

"How do you want to do this?" I ask.

"Your ass is pretty round. I think maybe missionary."

I move to my back, slide a pillow under my hips, and guide him to my opening. "Don't worry about me," I say, "I'm so horny right now, I won't feel a thing."

Freddy kneels below my entrance, pressing against it. I place my legs over his shoulders. He pushes into me and starts fucking me. He hits my prostate. I forget everything. I don't know how long it lasts, and I don't remember him finishing. When I regain my faculties, I'm on my side, facing him, eviscerated and spent.

"Goodnight, YouK," he says, rolling so his back is toward me.

"Goodnight, Freddy," I answer, wrapping my right arm around him and resting my hand on his soft penis. We sleep deep and hard.

* * * * *

We wake to sunshine. I want to go get us coffee, but it's later than usual, and I'm apt to run into others. I don't want anything to interfere with our last time.

"Hey, Sleepy," I say, gently jostling him and then just as gently wiping the hair from his eyes across his forehead.

"How are you not hungover?" he asks. "My head is killing me. And, it fucking reeks of sex in here."

I'm not hungover because he drank all day and I drank only at night.

He's right about the house. We're going to have to open all the windows as soon as we're finished.

"I wanted to get you coffee, but I think the mice are up and moving. So, I got you this instead."

I hold out four Iburprofen and an Alka Selzer. I always have anti-hangover in my dop kit.

Freddy ingests my cure and then drinks an entire bottle of water.

"What're you staring at?" he asks.

"You . . . . We have one more condom left."

He closes his eyes and sighs. I move to the bed and slide back in behind him.

"Hey," I whisper. "We don't have to do anything. We can just stay like this."

"Are you sure? I don't want you to be mad."

"I'm not going to be mad, Freddy. I mean, we've had a lot of sex the last sixty or so hours."

He puts his hand over mine. I kiss the back of his neck and his shoulders.

"YouK?" he whispers.

"Yeah?"

"I think a blowjob might make me feel better."

I press my erection into him. "Suck me for as long as you like," I answer, chuckling.

"Getting, not giving, asshole. If I tried to give you one, I think I'd vomit all over you."

I roll Freddy onto his back and make love to his body, kissing and licking every inch that I can, trying to sear the feel and taste of him into my mind. By the time I find my way to his erection, it is leaking. I hold Freddy down with my hands and give him the best, most loving blowjob I can. I use my tongue to tease and to tickle him. I use my hand on his shaft and his scrotum. I lick and suck his hairy balls. When he's finally ready to come, I go all the way down and suck hard. He cries out. I finish him as best I can. I swallow some of him and then kiss and lick back up his body. When I'm over him, he says "that was by far the best blow job I've ever gotten." I kiss him and let what I had saved slide into his mouth. He swallows. I move against him. I'm close. He says "cum on my chest." I move and do. It's a big, thick one. I move my mouth back to his. I'm on top of him, smearing my cum between us. I end our kiss.

He has a bemused look on his face. "What?" I ask.

"Jamal knows."

"How?"

"He's not stupid. It was pretty obvious what was going on. He asked. I had to answer."

"Do you think he'll talk?"

"No," he answered, smiling a sinister smile. "I have lots of leverage over him."

"Was he mad?"

"Yes. He said he thought I'd only do this with him."

"Do you think he's only done it with you?"

"Yes."

"Do you feel bad?"

"Yes."

We laid there, neither of us speaking, but the air filled with unspoken words. I placed my hand on his face and stroked his cheek with my thumb. When I brushed it over his lips, he kissed it.

"Look," I say, surrendering. "I'm going to hit the shower. While I do, you should head next door, so they don't think anything's amiss. I'll take care of my stuff and air this place out. Then I'll be over."

I don't let him answer. When I exit the shower, he's gone. I drag the mattress back to the bedroom and then strip it clean. I open all the windows. I move his mattress back to the frame in the loft. I pack my things and head to the main house. When I get there, only my sister and her husband are inside. The boys are all down on the dock.

"I'm heading home."

"Okay, I love you Brother."

"I love you, too, Sister."

"Are you going to say good-bye to the boys?"

I vacillate. I should, but I don't think I can.

"No," I say. "You can tell them I said good-bye."

* * * * *

I'm dumbfounded as I walk to my car. In a million years, I wouldn't have predicted what had happened over the prior three days. As I unlock my car, I hear laughter and Martina McBride from the dock. She's again belting out her "Independence Day" anthem.

I smile, thinking about how Freddy used it against me.

When I am in my car, I notice a note on my side mirror, again written in soap. It's simple: "STNY?"

It's from Freddy. I smile wider than I had been smiling.