Catfish McDaris

A Lesbian’s Sore Throat

 “You’ve got a lot of nerve, the hillbillies from hell are scouring this town for you. Where are you? Inside your old lady’s bank knocking off a piece of ass,” Slick shook his head in amazement.

“Nerves of steel, never hurt anyone,” he replied. “Where are we headed anyway?”

“The Jemez Mountains, trout fishing, clean cool air, icy streams and lots of frigid beer and juicy steaks cooked over a campfire. We might even score some mountain poontang, the finest species in the Rockies,” Slick said. 

Nicky rubbed his hands together. “Sounds good to me. Look, Bud, I’m in powerful need of some shuteye. You take the first shift at the wheel and then I’ll spell you after a few Z’s.” He said as he crawled in back into the camper. He was soon snoozing away. Slick kept the truck pointed west, the double nickel swallowing the highway, like a python and a gerbil. After four Doobie Brothers tapes, a couple of Steppenwolf, and the entire collection of Jimi Hendrix, ending with Band of Gypsies, he pulled over for a pit stop. Nicky woke up, missing the sound of the whining tires on asphalt. They both got out and stretched and watered the roadside flora.

“You want to take the helm, old buddy?” Slick asked.

“No problem, amigo,” Nicky replied.

Slick was soon sawing logs. Nicky listened to the wind and thought about all the women he had painted. He thought about Goya and Otto Dix and Matisse. There was so much to paint and so little time. Looking ahead and off to the side of the road, he spotted a hitchhiker. He thought what the shit and pulled over.

She was wearing sun bleached denim and down at the heel boots. Her most prominent feature of attire was her straw cowboy hat with a snow white turtle shell attached to the crown. The shell had a have a nice day smiling face. Turquoise nuggets for the eyes and nose, red coral for the smile, other than that, she was dog butt ugly. When she took off her hat getting in the cab of the truck, her crow blue black dyed hair stuck up all over her head. She looked like a cross between a half dead magpie and a fighting rooster. Nicky thought, damnation what a hell of a thing to pick up.

“Where you headed?” she asked.

“West and north to the mountains,” he replied.

“Don’t get any funny ideas, mister. I’m a trained killer in Asian martial arts. I’m headed for a lesbian convention in Albuquerque,” she drawled with a Texas twang accent.

“You don’t need to worry. I’m not into rape or dikes or getting my ass whipped,” he replied.

“What the hell is that noise back there?” She pointed back at the camper. “You got a St. Bernard or something?”

“No, that’s my partner, Slick. He’s taking a nap.”

“He must have constipation of the sinuses. My name is Antoinette, but everyone calls me Tony.”

“Pleased to meet you, I’m Nicky,” he replied.

“Do you mind if I smoke?” Tony asked.

“Go right ahead, it won’t bother me,” he answered.

She reached into her back pack and pulled out a freezer bag of pot. Nicky had thought she meant tobacco. Tony pulled a New Mexican map from the glove compartment and started breaking up the golden olive sticky buds. Pulling the leaves apart from the seeds, she took a matchbook cover and rolled the seeds away from the shake. She flipped the seeds out the wing window and pulled out a rolling machine. Sprinkling the weed in, she rolled a Zig Zag paper down until only the gummed edge was exposed. She licked it slowly, smiling at Nicky. Out popped a perfect joint. Tony punched the cigarette lighter in on the dashboard and was soon toking away. Passing the reefer to Nicky, he declined. He was catching enough of a contact buzz as it was. The cabin was full of pungent smoke. It wasn’t long before Tony slid over next to Nicky. Surprisingly, she didn’t look so bad after inhaling the marijuana. 

“Pot always makes me horny. Do you mind if I shift your gears?”  She had long, elegant fingers that lowered his pants around his knees without him taking his hands off the steering wheel. He soon found out that Tony was an expert at playing the skin flute. A normal man wouldn’t have been able to drive, but Nicky had had his bagpipes honked and squeezed by the best. She came up for air and asked if he’d stop for beer, offering to buy. He pulled off at the next exit and found a drive-up liquor store. Tony was back at work by this time.

He rolled down his window and said, “Please, give me a six pack of Coors.” The man working the window caught a glimpse of Tony’s head bobbing up and down, his mouth dropped open. Nicky smiled and asked, “Do you carry Listerine? My girlfriend is getting a sore throat.” She relinquished her mouthful long enough to smile at the man and lick her lips. He shoved the beer out to them, scratching his bald head. Nicky handed him three bucks and drove off. They made it back to the highway without disturbing Slick. She popped the top on a cerveza, offering one to Nicky. He declined.

“Let me ask you something, Tony and I hope you won’t take offense. Why do you say you are gay? You are obviously attracted to men. What is it about women that trips your trigger? Maybe your clitoris is where your tonsils are supposed to be?”

“Pull this piece of shit truck over and I’ll show you what a real fuck is all about.”

“What happened, seriously?” he asked.

“Do you want to hear my life story?” she answered.

“Why not? Do you have an appointment or something?”

“Waco, Texas was a shithole to grow up in. Macho jocks, Chicanos, hippies, and cowboys and they were all just a bit fucked up. The hippies were the best of the bunch, but most of them were smelly, doped up long hairs. I stayed a virgin until my senior year, I was old fashioned and raised right and I never met the right guy. I got into track instead of drugs, I could run myself high. I was close with most of the other girls, but we never fooled around. There was this guy three years older than me, I had a crush on. He came back from Vietnam with all these colored medals on his chest. He was serious, not like anyone I had ever known. I invited him to take me to the prom, he agreed. The night of the prom, he arrived in his uniform, standing straight and tall with a corsage for me. My parents were impressed and I felt weak in the knees. He opened the door of his dark blue GTO for me, I sank back into the leather seats. We went to the high school gymnasium, where a band from Dallas was warming up, all my friends were envious. I was proud as a peacock. My date danced expertly and treated me like a lady. The night was a Cinderella dream. After the dance we went to lover’s lane and I gave him what he wanted. I bled all over my fancy dress and shoes. I felt mortified. He got angry about the blood on his car seat, instead of being excited about screwing a virgin. He dropped me off at home and I hid my dress, until I could clean it without my mother finding it. I waited the next day for his call, and the next and the next. I didn’t expect him to marry me, but at least to have the decency to see me again. I found out through the grapevine that the son of a bitch had told half the guys in town what a great piece of ass I was. I was so mad I loaded my father’s pistol and contemplated blowing his ass away. Finally, I came to the conclusion that nobody was worth killing over. I got back to my running and broad jump and met some ladies with sympathy and understanding. That’s my story.”

Nicky was silent for a while. Then he said, “I guess I can’t blame you.”

“What about you? When and how did you lose your cherry?” Tony asked.

Nicky thought back to his first experience and smiled. “She wasn’t my real aunt, but I called her Auntie Emma. She was my mother’s best friend, they were closer than sisters. I was fifteen and big for my age. I was horny all the time, it seemed like I had a perpetual hard on. I would spank my monkey every chance I got. Looking at the underwear ads in the Sears catalogue, fantasizing about fucking all those models and my teachers, used to drive me crazy. One day I waited until Auntie Emma went in the bathroom, I walked in on her claiming it was by accident, I couldn’t take my eyes off her bush. It was the first pussy I had ever seen and it was a mind blowing experience. I masturbated for weeks thinking about her, I was dazed and confused. My parents thought I had an affliction of some kind. I think my old man had a suspicion of what was troubling me. About a week later, Auntie Emma came over while my mother was still at work. She complained of a sprained muscle in her thigh from too much tennis. Her tennis skirt barely hid her from the waist down. She groaned and massaged her thigh and kept working higher and higher. I grew bold and offered to help. I knew this was what she wanted. I started at her inner thigh and was soon rubbing her pussy through her panties. She had her tongue down my throat and lowered my blue jeans. When she saw how big my erection was, all I saw was pure lust in her beautiful brown eyes. She took me into her mouth and it was all I could do to keep from grabbing her head and forcing my way down her throat. She cupped my balls as I came in gushes and she swallowed every drop. We finished taking off our clothes and Emma showed me how to tease her clitoris and guide my tongue along her labia. By the time I finished eating her I was ready for my first good hard fuck. She got on top and guided me deep inside her, she went right, then left, then rotated. I was milked, by her. I sucked her big bouncing breasts, while fingering her, until I had another raging hard on. She bent over the bed, exposing her ass and pussy, reaching back behind her she guiding me first into her tight little anus, and then she switched me into her vagina. I pumped her doggie style, she screamed in ecstasy as we both reached orgasm. Later she asked my mother if I could help her with some chores around her house. I mowed her lawn, painted, and moved furniture, any excuse just to keep getting that fine pussy. Emma taught me more tricks about fucking than anyone my age had a right to know. To this day, when I go home to visit always stop by to see her. “

Tony listened with growing appreciation. “You know our stories our similar. Now why don’t you pull over and I’ll give you that promised fuck.”

“Maybe later, you’re just horny from that pot and beer and my story. I have something serious to tell you. You’ve probably heard this before, but you’ve got the softest chin I’ve ever laid my balls on and the whitest teeth I’ve ever come across.”

“You son of a bitch and you ask me why I’m gay,” Tony smiled.

“Do you know what the speed limit for a lesbian is?” Tony shrugged. “Lickety split,” Nicky said. “That sucked,” Tony said as she went back down on him.

He let her have it and was soon squirting in her mouth. She chugged some beer after that. They were quiet for while as he turned up a Jeff Beck tape. The sun was reflecting off the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, Nicky imagined the first Spanish conquistadors arriving from Mexico. The name land of enchantment certainly fit. Four mule deer ran alongside the road. The highway was carved through solid red crimson stone, long vertical drill marks were evident on both sides of the mountains. They soon entered Tijeras Canyon, leading them into Albuquerque. Adobe houses and pinons and mesquite dotted the surrounding hills. The city spread out before them, like an inviting maiden, split on the western side by the Rio Grande.

Tony gave directions to where she was going. She said, “Stay with me for a while, sweet man.”

“I can’t right now. I have things to discover about myself,” he replied.

“You know where I’ll be, if you ever change your mind.” He pulled over at the place she designated. Nicky stared into her moist mournful eyes. It was enough of a goodbye. “Stay straight, baby,” he whispered. She laughed and hooted and flipped him the bird.

Slick woke up, as Nicky was driving off. He looked in the mirror and saw Tony with her finger in the air. Nothing surprised him with Nicky. “Damn, you did some driving. This is Albuquerque?” asked Slick. Nicky nodded yes. “Just wanted to make sure, you didn’t hijack me to some fucking fantasy land in Bumfuck, Mexico. Hey, I know a good place to eat and I’m running on fumes.”

Long red and green chilies, tied together in ristras hung from the protruding roof ceiling beam vigas. The adobe restaurant was called The Mexican Kitchen and it was in Old Town, it had a huge girthed cottonwood tree growing right through the center of its dining room. The smells were incredible. Wood scorched poblano chili peppers, coffee, frying bacon, ham, garlic and fresh handmade corn and flour tortillas. The waitresses wore blinding white blouses and embroidered lacy aprons with colorful serape style full skirts. Their welcoming smiles were infectious. They all wore turquoise necklaces, rings, or bracelets. Nicky started sketching as soon as they were seated. Slick explained that turquoise was a good luck stone used to ward off witches. 

After several cups of steaming black coffee, they ordered stuffed sopapillas. Sopapillas were a Pueblo Indian dish of blown up fried bread, hollow and airy on the inside. They could be filled with honey and eaten as a desert or eaten as a main meal. Nicky and Slick’s food arrived, flaky bread filled with tender skirt steak, Chihuahua cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, grilled onion and garlic, cilantro, chilies and a special secret sauce. The dish covered an entire platter and every morsel was delicious. 

While they ate, they overheard two guys talking about a movie that was being filmed in the nearby mountains. Slick stopped the waitress the next time she brought more coffee, to inquire about it.

“Miss, have you heard anything about a movie being made around here?”

“Yes, it’s a rock and roll concert movie being made up near Placitas,” she replied.

“Could you give us directions to Placitas?” Slick asked. “We’re new to these parts.”

She looked them both over for a second and said, “I can do better than that. My cousin is going there tomorrow and she is looking for a ride. Let me give her a call.”

***

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Catfish McDaris