Chapter Seven -- The Universe is a Computer

I still felt cold. Cold and dry. My nerves brittle, standing on Sid's steps-- like I'd snap any moment. I leaned into him-- a soft comfort. Warm and moist. I didn't believe in miracles. But what was this? I reached my hand inside my blood-soaked shirt, still disbelieving. I was there, and I was alive. 

"I think you should go to the hospital," Sid said, turning the key to the front door and kicking it open with his foot.  I shook my head no again. I had enough of hospitals. And how would I explain this? How would I get them to understand what happened? I didn't even understand it myself. 

We both staggered through the doorway. My dead weight pulling at Sid. God, I remembered everything. No shock, no memory lapse this time. Every detail a sharp glinting edge like the knife that cut into me. All agony. 

And Sid's words-- "I haven't said I love you yet"--  felt like breaking glass inside my head. I wondered what he meant by yet, and what I might answer back if he said those same words again.

My body steered into Sid, nudging him to the sink. "Thirsty,"  I managed to gasp. Sid turned on the tap, and I grabbed the nearest glass and filled it to overflowing. My parched lips drained it, then another.  I filled a third glass and began gulping again.

"That's enough," he said, taking the water from my hand. "Your body needs fluids, but take it easy." Wrapping his arm firmly around my waist, he guided me to the couch. I fell back, and Sid sat down, the water on the coffee table within arm's reach, then he stripped the offending shirt up and over my head, setting it aside. He unfolded his mom's old tattered quilt, cocooning me snugly inside along with his warm body against my bare skin. My teeth chattered; my body shivered.  Sid settled in closer.

"Unbreakable," he whispered softly against my neck. 

"What?" I asked quietly, my body tense. 

"The movie Unbreakable. Everyday Superman. No one could heal like that unless they were superhuman." He was studying me like I was someone he'd never seen before, checking each tiny scar, the creases in my knuckles as I clenched the quilt as if it was some kind of life preserver.

"I don't think Superman ever had to be carried to the couch," I hiccupped. "My finger." Sid touched his index finger to mine.   

"What? You mean the thorn?" 

"Yes," I said. "I'm not the only one who's undergone miraculous healing. The roses." My once blighted finger tingled a bit, as if recalling. "They were sick, now they're well. In a few weeks' time."

"Who did this? Why? You said you never saw him before, but then you weren't so sure," his voice strained, trying to maintain composure. 

I think, the stranger in the parking lot,  I had a dreamy feeling that I'd seen him before, but-- "I'm not sure," I said. "I'm not sure of much anymore." I sighed, pulling the quilt tighter around us. Maybe if we squeezed in tight enough together, I'd forget everything else. I felt warmer. I recalled the promise I made to myself walking back to car, that I'd open up to Sid. It was hard being open when you've been closed for so long. I wedged my guilt, prying open my soul. Got to talk to someone. 

Got to.

"His face," my voice cracked, trying not to cry. "He almost seemed sorry-- his eyes. His hands brutal; his eyes kind. He didn't take a thing. Didn't even try. Just asked directions, stabbed me, then helped me fall back in the seat." I wiped my nose and eyes with one clean swipe of my hand. Shit. I looked into Sid's face. So open. Listening. God, he's beautiful. "He held my head. He wasn't crazy. He was almost... polite."

"Polite? The man fucking tried to kill you. More like apathy." I relaxed my head into the curve of his neck, scratchy and safe. 

"You don't understand. It was like he knew," I turned my face up and looked at him. "Like he knew I wasn't going to die." 

"Must be he wasn't sure. Why else even do it? But then why didn't he wait to see what happened?" 

"Maybe he did," I whispered.

"You mean you think he was watching us?" For the first time, I saw real anger in Sid's face like a storm with the heady wind behind. We both sat quiet for a few moments, collecting our thoughts. 

"Sid?" 

He cradled my head with his open hand resting on the base of my neck. I felt his pulse quickening.  I silently counted each beat off, trying to get the nerve to say what I've feared for so long. 

"What if the fire at my parents  house wasn't an accident?" 

Sid was quiet. These thoughts, they'd already occurred to him. 

"Maybe it was electrical. But maybe it was no accident. I can't help thinking that the fire at my place, the bar. And now--" I steadied my voice, "this attack ... now I think, all this couldn't just be coincidence. Today... Hell, for the last week, I've thought a lot about Mom, Dad and Karen dying.  Nothing will ever fill that pit inside my soul where they used to be. Not talking about them in the present tense--like I can call them for advice. Like the day at Lancaster's, I said my mother'ed love to see that garden. I suspended belief long enough to think she could walk right down the path with me." I took a deep breath.

I sobbed. "Why didn't smoke detectors wake them? What it was like for them? Did they suffer?  I always thought I could have prevented it. You know, I should have been there... not with the guys. Maybe I would have realized-- or heard. Now, I'm beginning to think I'm the reason-- " My voice cracked, and I wiped my nose with the quilt. 

"That's pretty self-centered of you, thinkin' you're the cause," he said. "And what if you're right? What if this does have to do with you?  --doesn't mean you're to blame." 

"I know that. My brain knows that. But that's not how it washes out inside me. Fuck. Look at me. What am I Sid? God. I'm some fucking freak. When you were thinking of taking me to the hospital, I had visions of getting dissected alive to see how fast I'd heal up again-- like some X-Files episode." 

"Hmm..." Sid joked, "always thought you were an alien life form. I guess now it's confirmed."  

"Well, I bleed and feel pain. And I eat and drink. Damn," I said, remembering. "And I was going to make bacon and eggs tonight, too."

"I think we can pass on you making dinner. You should eat. How 'bout chicken soup?" I think I've cried out all the water I just drank; Chicken soup felt right. Yes, it'd have to be chicken soup-- Sid's motherly instinct taking over. I began to think, maybe I'm no longer a desirable creature to him. I needed nurturing instead-- not good. I snatched the quilt around us tighter.

"I'm hungry but not yet," I said. "Don't get up." I wanted to kiss him, but I was afraid. He was too near. And Sid was right. I am an alien-- alien to myself. These tingles and pressures and touches don't feel like they belong to me.  Sid moved his face closer, and closer still. He exhaled. Every molecule of his breath alights, sparks. It seemed to take hours for his mouth to meet my lips, and when it did, I moaned far too loud. I sounded too needy. But he didn't pull away. Instead he opened up his mouth enough to breath inside me. I felt his life-- his spirit filling me. With dream like slowness, he parted his lips more and moaned back. And I knew, yes, this was what it felt like to be kissed by someone who loves you.

-----------------------

I get up and ready before Sid for the first time since my stay. I made the coffee and fed Babe a bowl of Cat Chow,  scratching under her tabby chin. 

I sipped on the coffee and chewed at my cuticles, thinking they'll grow right back anyhow. I smiled remembering how my mom used to harp on me about chewing them all the time. I wished silently to myself that she could say that to me right now. I wished I could call Dad. At least now I was just wishing and not pretending anymore. In the night, I dreamt that they were both alive. Mom said everything would be fine, and Dad shouted, "Suck it up dumb ass" the same way he always yelled at me in high school whenever I struck out at bat.

I looked over at Sid sleeping on the sofa bed, and my heart turned into one giant knot. What was I doing? Maybe Alan's right about me. Sid should expect more than what I could give. Not that I ever promised him anything but wasn't my staying here a promise? 

I picked up the change of address card and rummaged through the desk for a pen. I was weak or smart; I wasn't sure which. But I couldn't leave.  Those kisses last night were too good for words. I filled the card out and laid it on the counter for Sid to take to the post office. 

"Good morning." Sid rolled around facing me. "Ready for work? What time is it?"

"Only 6:45. I couldn't sleep." 

And I know why. My brain was wired after he left me confused and horny. 

Must go to work. My life needed normalcy-- self-healing freak-shows need normal.

"The paper's usually outside the door by now." I could take a hint. I stepped out to get the news. When I came back in, Sid's in the shower. 

I scanned the front page. Today was going to be a hot one. That meant staying on the front room floor at work where it was air conditioned. News? Oh, yeah, someone tried to kill me yesterday, but that didn't make the papers. Opinion page? Letters to the editor, nothing interesting. Then I flipped over to the back of the feature section and saw his face. I ran to the bathroom and pounded on the door, "Sid! Sid!"

"Hold on a minute. I'll be right out!" He opened the door drying off. I crammed the paper in his face. He pushed it back, getting it wet.  It took him a moment for his eyes to adjust. "Mr. Lancaster is a quantum physicist?"

"No, it's Dr. Lancaster. And he's a prof at Cambridge. And look here," I said, snapping my finger against the paper, "he's speaking tonight at seven in Calvin Auditorium."

"I see that. And the topic-- I read something about this a few years back in a science magazine-- "The Universe is a Computer." He sat down at the counter, towel around his waist. "Could you get me some coffee?" I poured him a cup while he read in silence.

"Do you think you could get tickets for tonight?" He asked.

"Probably, if it's not sold out."

----------------------

On the way to work, Sid outlined what Lancaster's lecture was about-- as much as I could understand.

"They theorize that the universe is this super computer. That the universe has been computing since the Big Bang. Hey, that explains the card don't you see? It was binary-- ones and zeros -- language of the computer. Lancaster must have written a message in the code. You still have the card?"

"Yeah, Glenda told Mr. K they wanted it back. I was supposed to bring it to work, but with all that's happened, I forgot."

"Good, I want to find out what it means before we give it back. Did you get a chance to read that stuff I found on Emma Lancaster?" he asked.

"No." Too busy worrying about hormones for important things like solving this fucking mess. "What about this computer is a universe stuff?"

"See, all the computer uses is a series of on and off switches. One is on and zero is off. The analogy of the computer is used for a lot these days. Like the brain for example-- synapses going on and off. But this theory is more than an analogy; it's real. It is-- a computer. Light. ON. Void. OFF. Do you get it?"

"I'm not the computer nerd here--" I said, "but what I'd like to know is, if the universe is a computer, what is it computing?"

"Well, itself. Or reality." I rolled my eyes. We were just pulling up to the green house, and he was bringing up one of his 'what is the meaning of life?' discussions, which normally I did like get into with him, but it was 7:56 by the clock in his car and almost time for me to punch in.

"I'll call you later," I said, getting out of the car. "Mr. Keller knows a few people at Albright College; I can probably get the tickets if you can't."

"See you at five then." And he drove off. 

Not one word about last night.

----------------------------------------

The phone rang on my first step in the door and didn't stop until two that afternoon. The paper was right-- it turned out to be a hot humid Michigan day--- 96 degrees by two o'clock and with the heat index well into the 100s.  Kim Donally, Mr. Keller and I stayed cool on the floor while the greenhouse crew sweated it out in the back forty. Alan ran deliveries so he went from what he calls arid to arctic all day. I mentioned to Alan and Mr. K about our friend, Dr. Lancaster, speaking tonight at the college, and that Sid and I wanted tickets.

Alan said he wouldn't mind going himself and taking Lynn.

"How many tickets do you want then? Four?" Mr. K asked. "I'll take them out of payroll on Friday." He winked at me and started out the door.

"Hey, that's not fair-- just because he's down in his luck doesn't mean he shouldn't have to pay. What about me! I'm a poor single guy!" He yelled after him.

Sid called me first. His Dad said the tickets were sold out.  Sid's cell phone cut in and out, but I told him Mr. Keller was trying to get tickets, and we might have company. For the first time I didn't seem to mind that Alan might come along. I needed to do this for Sid. That apology yesterday from Alan helped. Or could be everything that's been happening made me feel petty. Contemplating an evening with Alan and Lynn wouldn't normally be relaxing. Neither should seeing a speaker that I think might be stalking me, especially after my near death experience last night. Yet I was more relaxed than I'd been in weeks. 

I bit the inside of my cheek and smiled. Kisses unbend anxiety. 

Mr. K burst up the steps with the tickets, handing them to me. He reminded me that I was supposed to bring in the card from Dr. Lancaster. I was hoping he'd forget. I told Mr. K  I'd bring it in tomorrow.

---------------------------

Reliable Sid pulled up five minutes early. 

Mr. Keller told me to 'scat' and have a good time tonight. I ran out to the car.

"I did some more detective work today," Sid said. "Take a look." He nodded toward the folder sitting between us.

I opened it and thumbed through the pages of faxed and copied old records. Then, I stopped to look at an old group school picture. There were about twenty students in various shapes, sizes and ages. A little girl dead center held up a small slate with 'Freemont School 1869' printed in neat letters. 

"There he is," Sid pointed to him. 

How could this be? Yet, as I took in the picture again-- it seemed familiar to me. Maybe because I recognized the building in the background, but no-- something more. A nervous feeling returned to my gut.  

The face was tiny, smaller than a dime. But there was no mistaking. 

"Fuck," I said, my hands shaking. "This looks like Lancaster."

"Yeah. And here's that information about Emma and her brother." He hands it to me, and I silently read it over. "I can't believe this. He's real. A school master, employed by Freemont school. And look at this, he grew up in a town only about fifty miles from here. And this article about his disappearance from the Gazette... Sid you did some digging."

"It really wasn't difficult to find at all-- internet, college library, telephone groveling. All in my regular day's work. I plan to go lookin' for the school records tomorrow."

----------------------

Back at the apartment I showered and changed. The anxiety I didn't have earlier, was now visiting me. The anticipation of pretending to be a couple was intoxicating-- like foreplay. I heard Sid whistling in the other room. 

"Alan and I thought we could go somewhere to eat afterwards. Sit down and talk in a relaxed atmosphere," he told me through the door. 

"You better finish getting ready. Alan will be here soon. I want to get there early and get a good seat."

"Wes? You're gonna be fucking pissed. I told Alan."

I froze.  I opened the door. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him about last night, but I don't think he believes it."

"No shit? Big fucking surprise. No one's going to believe it."  Shit, I thought he told Alan we weren't fucking.

"I'm ready, just looking for my tennis shoes… hurry up."

"You're not mad?" 

"What for?" I smiled. His shirt was half buttoned, his hair sticking out on his head and his shoes untied. He was adorable. Now how could I be mad at that?

"Your shoes, they're out here by the door." Sid picked them up and threw them at me while Alan was outside honking. 

-----------------------------

When Lynn climbed out of the car at the auditorium, her breasts almost fell out. Sid's eyes lingered for an instant then looked away. Lynn's breasts have that effect-- kinda like a bad car accident. You don't want to look, but you can't look away. Lynn talks animatedly about her day, and Sid filled her in on the subject of Dr. Lancaster's lecture tonight, which we could both tell, bored Lynn. She was a bright person, but her interests didn't include computers. Period. She hates them. But hand her a Wall Street Journal, and she was in heaven.

"You know," Sid said, "Alan has been thinking about becoming my partner. You might want to rethink your position." 

"Common interests are over rated," said Lynn. "Look at you two, florist by day and bad-boy rock star by night hitches up with number one nice-guy slash computer geek." Sid smirked and patted my ass. 

We sat in the third row, and the auditorium filled quickly. From the buzz we heard around us, Dr. Lancaster was quite a speaker. Sid sat reading the promo info on Lancaster they'd handed out at the door while I  gazed up at the ceiling tiles with John Lennon singing in my brain…'I had to count them all, now I know how many holes it takes to fill the Albert Hall…' I looked over a Sid, still engrossed. Hmm, 'I'd love to turn him on.' I sighed, no turning him on right now. 

Hmm, maybe if I put my hand on his knee? There, that got his attention. 

Ahh, he scratched his nose. Handsome nose. Right now I wanted him more than anything in the whole, wide, micro-processing universe. 

The good Dean Whithers ambled out to introduce the speaker. Sid laid his hand over the top of mine, lightly brushing my knuckles with his index finger. 

I hardly recognized Dr. Lancaster when he stepped out. His posturing was different. He commanded the auditorium, maybe conducted was a better word. The audience sat up in their seats like an orchestra comes to attention when the conductor raises his baton. Even Lynn appeared impressed.

The lecture was fascinating. He conveyed the theory in laymen's terms using both anecdotes and analogies. I understood most of what he said--still, there were moments that I was completely lost. I could tell that Sid was getting it, and by the way Lynn kept shifting around that she didn't. I wasn't sure about Alan.

I made direct eye contact with Lancaster exactly three times during the lecture. And I'm pretty sure he was looking directly at Sid and speaking at times.

The question and answer session at the end was the most interesting and confusing. They discussed physics-- 

 Sid raised his hand, asking the last question.

"If the universe is unfolding reality as it makes its computations, then aren't you in essence stating that man has no control over his destiny? That it is unfolded for him?"

"Yes, in a sense I am. And no I am not." He answered. "Quantum theory contains many paradoxes."

"That sounds more like a politician answering than a scientist," I whispered to Sid. Lancaster stared at me. I didn't know how, but I thought he knew what I'd said.

We sat talking a few moments, waiting for the crowd to thin. A well dressed little man with green tennis shoes limped up to us. 

"Professor Lancaster would like to meet you. Would you mind following me back stage?" he asked.

Everyone eyed me. I nodded, curious as to what Lancaster might want.

"Sure," Sid answered, following the odd man back. We all fell behind.  Igor, yeah, in Young Frankenstein, that was who this odd fellow reminded my of-- no hump on his back though. 

Then he turned around and said to us: 'Walk this way!'  I started to laugh and limp like Igor.

"Stop Wes," Lynn hissed. "That's not very nice."

I stopped. 

We followed.  

Sid did a slow burn. I wasn't sure if he was mad at me or thinking about Lancaster. 

I spotted Lancaster in a group of college students, who were captivated. Lancaster excused himself, and strolled up to us, warmly shaking  Sid's hand.  

"Interesting question you asked," Lancaster said, assessing Sid. "Although one I've heard many times before, but interesting. Do we rule our fate or is it manipulated for us? The age old question." 

"We make it," Sid said. 

"You seem pretty sure," Lancaster said, raising an eyebrow.

"I am." 

"Good to meet someone who knows. But the real reason I called you all back here is to see how you're doing, Wes. I must say that you look much better than the last time I saw you. I hear that my nephew is in a band with you. He's pretty talented. We have numerous musicians and mathematicians in our family. The two fields are interrelated you know."

"Yeah, I've heard that you use the same part of your brain for music and math calculations," I commented.

"Simplistically put, but yes," he said. "Les tells me you are very gifted musically. I'd like to hear you play sometime."

"We're playing near here this weekend. Les can tell you how to get there if you want," Sid jabbed me in the side, clearing his throat.

"Ah, we have dinner reservations," Sid said. "Sorry to cut this short, but we really need to be going." 

"Nice speaking to you. Maybe I will see you this weekend. And by the way Wes, I've never thought of going into politics." 

He did hear me!

Sid pulled me away. As soon as we were out of earshot he said, "Are you crazy? Why did you invite him to see you play?"

"I couldn't believe you said that," Alan said. "He's a pervert. A complex one, but a pervert."

"Now I'm going to have to worry about you even more," said Sid.

"It's not like he can't find out where we're playing," I said. "His nephew's in the band."

"Yeah, that's weird," said Alan. "This Les guy appears from nowhere." He looks at Sid. "And 'we have reservations'? Come on! Fuck. You want to be more obvious? There's no place within forty miles of here that you need a reservation for, dick head."

"I don't care what he thinks," Sid said.

"No, shit," said Lynn.

"Well, where do we want to go to eat? I was thinking the Jade Imperial Dragon," I suggested. "Best Chinese restaurant in the tri-state area."

"Chinese," Lynn said, kissing Alan on the chin. "I love Chinese food."

-------------------------

As my foot hit the threshold, I whiffed the sweet, floral aroma of the special house herbal tea. I loved the Dragon with its huge saltwater aquarium partition swimming with colorful clown, butterfly, and damsel fish. And I loved how the water from the tank reflected on the walls. The best buffet. Service great. Clean. The same couple running it for over twenty years, making the best sesame chicken I'd ever eaten. We sat in a booth farthest from the kitchen. I slid in first, and Sid beside me, his thigh brushing against mine. Alan kissed Lynn on the cheek as she excused herself to the little girls' room.

We made small talk while Lynn was gone. Alan stared at me the whole while, but I ignored him. The waitress brought ice water and place settings. She poured the house tea, leaving a small pot on the table. I reached across Sid for the sugar, intentionally pressing my body into his.

When Lynn got back, we ordered; I got my usual sesame chicken, and Sid got Kung Po. 

Conversation. Make conversation. I hated Alan's staring.

"What'd you think of Lancaster?" I asked.

 "Most of what he said was, 'wah, wahhhh, whah, whah, waaaahh.' You know, the way the adults all talk on the old Charlie Brown specials on TV?"  Lynn complained.

"I thought he was interesting," I said, nabbing a bite of pork fried rice off Sid's plate.

"Reality is an algorithm," said Alan. "I knew the Universe was fucked up." 

"Watch your language," Lynn slapped Alan's thigh. "We're in a public place." 

"There's something about him I don't like," Sid said. "He's shifty. Like he's hiding something. And what was that 'the real reason I called you back here is to talk to you, Wes'? Maybe he is behind all that's been happening--  It was his way of saying, 'I'm watching you.' I don't like him."

"I've read that while many geniuses relate well in their academic world, they have serious problems with intimate relationships," Lynn said. 

"Did you get that information from one of those tests in Cosmo magazine?" I asked. "You know, 'Are you in love with a psychopathic killer? Take this test and see...' Now that's some stimulating reading." 

"Reading's not important in Cosmo," Alan said. "It's the pictures that are stimulating. Lots of nipples. But you three probably aren't interested in women's nipples."

"Sometimes you're such as ass hole, Alan. Guys," Lynn said, leaning over the table to us, "didn't you think that Lancaster guy was hot? He reminds me of Harrison Ford like he is now, not during Raiders of the Lost Ark. Yum."

"He's ok looking," I said. 

We eat, taking bites off each other's plates and laugh. We're avoiding the main topic-- last night's stabbing. I don't really want to talk about it.  I'm having a good time except Alan's pissing me off-- treating me so nicey, nice. 

"Listen, I'm sorry about that comment. I can be an ass hole," Alan said, pushing his sweet and sour chicken around his plate.

"No problem, Alan," Sid said.

Being nice-- it wasn't normal for Alan. Might as well bring up my brush with death last night. Alan was going to dance around it all night unless I did. 

"Alright," I said, turning my water glass in circles and staring down Alan. "I know what this is all about, Sid told me, so stop being so damned polite."

"I'm so glad Sid told you," Lynn said. "There really shouldn't be secrets between lovers. I know being too truthful about partners you've slept with can be a problem in some relationships, but in Sid and Alan's case, as close as they are, I think it's wise that Sid told you the truth."

It was like being slammed at 60 mph into a dash board. Lynn immediately knew she'd fucked up mega size. Sid paled. Alan just squirmed in his seat like the snake he was. 

"You slept with Alan?" I asked Sid under my breath. "Is there anyone left alive but me on this entire continent who hasn't fucked you, Alan?" My voice was rising. I was pissed. Hurt.

 Sid grabbed my arm and scooted me outside. I rationalized; I hypothesized, then I began to hyperventilate.

"Oh, damn Wes, it's not what you think," Sid tried to explain, but he knew I was close to hitting him and backed up a little. I couldn't believe I was that jealous. 

"We only did it twice," he said lamely.

"Twice?" I said. "YOU  fucked him twice?"

"Once that night and then again the next morning," he said matter of fact like. I don't know if I was pissed because he slept with Alan, or if I was pissed because he hadn't slept with me. 

Alan and Lynn walked out of the Dragon and both stood sheepishly by the door. 

"Fuck this," I said to Alan. "Let's go." We all raced to Alan's Olds and got in. He put the car in drive and sped off. 

I didn't notice where we were going; I looked listlessly out the window, pressed tightly against the car door. Instead of street lights and head lamps, my mind projected images of  Sid and Alan together. Now I understood. Why Alan always messed with me, and why he never picked at Sid. Shit. I was anxious-- all because I began to wonder if Sid wanted someone else. I felt him grasp my hand, and he squeezed it hard once. I finally looked over at him; it was dark, but I could see he was crying. I squeezed his hand once back, my hand shaking. 

Sid slid in next to me.  

 "Please," I said, leaning into him, wanting more, waiting for more. 

We decided at the same time. We met, mouths open, hungry. I kissed his face, tasting his damp salty tears on my lips. One of his hands twisted my hair, tugging my scalp while his other sloped up my thigh, making pin pricks of light heat dance before my eyes. I couldn't see. I groped blindly, my arms reaching.  I didn't care that Alan's listening-- maybe I wanted him to hear. 

"Sid," I groaned, my back sliding down the seat away from the door. I clung to Sid, bringing him down with me, pulling his shirt out of his jeans. I undid each button and pushed it off his shoulders, curling one hand against his chest. I reached my other hand and stroked the moist freckled skin of his back.  His tongue practiced those amazing gymnastics on the roof of my mouth, sending delicious sensations into every inch of me. 

 Then I felt the first contact of Sid's hand on my crotch, and I twitched up in his hand. I cried out too loudly, but Sid filled my mouth with his tongue, quieting me. 

I heard Alan and Lynn murmur in the front seat. The car stopped. Sid's hand fumbled to unbutton my jeans, and my breath came in jagged gasps as he undid each one. I waited for his touch, his strong square palm on me. 

Lynn's blouse flew over seat, next her bra, which landed on top of my head. And Pop, I sling shot her bra back into the front seat (they really do snap). I hiccupped a laugh as Sid's body slipped down mine, lower, then lower still. 

"Shit, don't stop," I begged. That was Sid's hand on me. His mouth moved down my chest, and without his lips to still me, I couldn't shut up. I bit my own lip--  I moaned and mumbled his name. 

His tongue licked my belly, trailing down slowly. I lifted my hips, shaking. His hands pulled my jeans and underwear in one sweep over my hips and down. I wanted his mouth on me. 

I heard Alan and Lynn whispering again in the front seat. 

Biting my lip, I tried to keep quiet. I tasted blood in  my mouth from suppressing my heat. I couldn't stand this torture. My hands clutched vinyl; my backside stuck to the seat. I didn't care that I was parking in Alan's car like some horny teenager. All I cared about was the feel of Sid's hot slick tongue as he licked my inner thighs. All I cared about was his mouth. I became light headed. Gasping. He ground hard into my leg, dry fucking it. His tongue biting and nipping.  I whimpered and squirmed. Then suddenly, his mouth gulped me. 

"Help me," I cried, slapping my hand over my mouth. My other hand burrowed into Sid's sandy hair. I couldn't believe it was happening. I thought, I'm gonna cry, he feels and sounds so good. 

"What are you doing to him Sid? Killing him?" Lynn giggled. I've muffled my sobs behind my hand, but not well enough. Then I saw her head peek over the seat. "Holy Shit!" she said, then ducked back down.  

I didn't care. 

Fuck. I couldn't hold back. I shuddered.  He  swallowed me. 

Me. 

Now I was sobbing. 

Sid pulled himself up. He kissed my chin, then my mouth. I tasted myself on his lips, musk and salt. He opened his mouth and moaned.  I wanted to do to him what he just did for me, and I reached down to unbutton his jeans. 

Alan started the car, and we began to move. 

Sid moved my hand away. He sat up, pulling me with him and whispered hoarsely into my ear, "I'll finish you off at home."