Okay, maybe not that dirty.
I took in a big gulp of air and let out all of my nerves, all of my anxiety and all of my irrational fears with one sentence.
"I AM A DIRTY, DIRTY SLUT!"
Unfortunately, the jukebox decided to move to a new song right then, so the decibel level of the bar had dropped considerably. I was too busy empowering the slut within to notice. Too bad for me no one else had been preoccupied with anything other than my screaming confirmation.
Everyone within shouting distance immediately started clapping and cheering. There were a few cat calls and wolf whistles and one over-zealous person who yelled, "Save a drum, bang a dirty slut!"
Drew got smacked in the arm by Jenny for that one.
Everyone felt so sorry for me that free drinks were sent to me for the next hour. And I couldn't be rude. I had to drink them. Which was why Carter was now helping me walk into my house because my feet just did not want to cooperate and - oh look, pizza!
I stumbled away from Carter and flipped open the cardboard box my dad left on the counter, shoveling an entire piece into my mouth.
"Mfmmff soooo f**king good," I mumbled around bites.
Carter stood behind me holding onto my h*ps to steady me while I inhaled two more pieces and guzzled two glasses of water.
"Fuck, this pizza is like...good and shit," I told him, wiping my greasy hands on a towel next to the box.
Alright, enough stalling. Time to do this shit.
I turned in Carter’s arms and gave him my best sultry look, chanting my mantra over and over.
I'm a dirty slut. I'm a dirty slut.
"Are you okay Claire? Do you have something in your eye?"
Carter cupped my cheeks and tilted my head back so he could look in my eye that did NOT have anything in it but sex appeal.
I am a drunk, dirty slut. I am a drunk, dirty slut.
I pulled my face away from his hands and decided to stick with a smile. It was safer.
I could do this; I could so totally do this.
I lifted the hem of my shirt up over my stomach, my black lace bra, and my head.
Except, my shirt got caught in the bobby pins on the top of my head. I was standing here in front of Carter with my shirt stuck around my head and chin and my arms stuck out in front of my face.
I am the great Cornholio. I am the great Cornholio. I need TP for my bunghole.
I started snorting and Carter bent his knees so he could peak into the opening of my shirt.
"Baby, what are you doing?" he asked with a laugh.
"I might need some help getting nuded," I said through snorts of laughter.
"Did you say neutered?"
Carter’s question just made me laugh even harder, which naturally made me cry - deep, heaving sobs with snot running down my nose.
Ladies and gentlemen, we have now entered the drunk crying portion of our evening. Please put your seatbacks in the upright position and try not to stare at the train wreck to your left.
Carter helped me get my shirt back on and put his hands back on my face, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.
"Hey, why the tears? What's wrong?" he asked softly.
That just made me cry harder. He was so nice and pretty and…nice. I sniffled loudly.
"I just wanted to be a slut so you'd like me and I don't want your penis to be disappointed and Twat Face is going to beat me up because I called her va**na a clown car."
Carter chuckled at my ramblings, bent down and scooped me up into his arms bridal-style. He walked down the hall towards my room, and I laid my head on his chest.
"First of all, I will never let Tasha beat you up, so don't even give that another thought," he reassured me as he gently set me down on my bed. He grabbed a couple of tissues from my nightstand and handed them to me as he knelt down next to my bed.
"Second," he said softly as I blew my nose and he held up the covers so I could crawl under. "You don't need to do anything to be dirty or sexy. You are already all of those things and more just by breathing. I am in a constant state of horniness whenever I'm near you or thinking about you. I don't want you to be nervous or worried about anything involving you and me and sex. You are everything I have ever wanted Claire. Never doubt that."
I really wish I wasn't drunk. I would so put his penis in my mouth right now.
Carter groaned and I was too drunk to care that I had just said that out loud. I snuggled into the covers.
"If you keep saying things like that, I am going break the rule I made to myself when I found you again," Carter said with a shake of his head as he pulled the covers up around my shoulders and smoothed my hair off of my cheek.
"What rule?" I whispered, unable to keep my eyes open any longer.
Carter leaned forward and put his lips by my ear.
"The rule that the next time I'm inside you, you will remember and enjoy every single second."
I wanted to tell him he was awfully cocky but that just made me think of c**k and wonder why male roosters were called cocks.
I passed out singing Alice in Chains "They come to snuff the rooster" lyrics.
16. They’re Called Nipples
Claire's body slid down the front of mine and she got to her knees, flicking the button of my jeans open as she went. The sound of my zipper sliding down filled the quiet room. I looked down at her on her knees and had to force myself not to grab onto her hair roughly and push her where I wanted her. Her soft, smooth hands reached into my pants and pulled my erection out, holding it right by her full lips. She glanced up at me through hooded eyes and smiled before she plunged her warm, wet mouth down on me. She swallowed the entire length and swirled her tongue around and around. She hallowed out her cheeks, sucking as hard as she could while she moved her mouth up and down. The tip touched the back of her throat with each suck in and caused me to moan loudly. Her hand pumped quickly up and down my length right below her mouth and I could feel my balls tighten with the force of my release. She ran her tongue from base to tip, swirling it around the head several times before pulling back and saying, "What's wrong with your wiener?"
I moaned again and tried to push her head forward so she could take me back in her mouth.
"Hey, what's wrong with your wiener?"
I jerked awake and turned my head, screaming at the top of my lungs when I saw Gavin standing a foot away from me on the couch, staring down between my legs. I followed his line of sight and groaned when I saw the huge morning wood I sported poking up under the blanket.
I sat up quickly and bunched the blanket around my lap as best I could as Claire came running into the living room, a look of panic on her face from my scream moments ago.
"What happened?" she asked in alarm as she ran over and knelt down next to Gavin.
Stop thinking about Claire on her knees. Stop thinking about Claire on her knees. Think about that old lady from Titanic na**d.
Gavin pointed to me. "Carter’s got a big wiener, Mom. Sumfin's wrong with him. He was making the same noises I do when my tummy hurts."
Claire smothered a laugh and finally looked me in the eyes.
"I guess I don't need to ask if you slept well!" she said brightly.
I shook my head at how chipper she was this early in the morning after last night.
"How are you even able to function this morning?" I asked, looking her over. Aside from looking a little sleepy, she still looked amazing. Her hair was wild, she had a little bit of make-up smudged underneath one eye and she wore an old tank top and shorts that had seen better days, yet she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.
She laughed and pointed to Gavin.
"You learn real quickly that as a parent, you don't have time for a hangover. Extra Strength-Rapid Release Tylenol and I have become very close over the years."
The phone rang and she hurried out of the living room to answer it, leaving Gavin to stand there and stare at me.
"So, how was your sleepover at Grandpas last night?" I asked as I flung the blanket off of me now that my morning glory was under control.
He shrugged.
"Do I have a vagina?"
I stared blankly at him, not quite sure I heard him correctly.
"Uh, what?" I asked, swinging my legs around and placing my feet on the floor.
He let out a huff of irritation with me.
"I said, do I have a vagina?"
I turned towards the kitchen to see Claire on the phone, pacing back and forth. Shit, I was on my own with this one. How the hell does he even know the word vagina? Wait, maybe he doesn't. He's four for fuck's sake. He probably thinks va**na means Cleveland.
"Well, Gavin, um…do you know what that words means?"
Please say Cleveland. Please say Cleveland.
"Papa watched a movie last night and the guy said he felt like he was driving around in a vagina. Can I drive a vagina? Does a va**na have windows and a horn?"
Oh holy mother of shit.
"Shit. Son of a bitch!" Claire cursed as she walked back into the living room.
Gavin opened his mouth but Claire was quick to cut him off.
"Don't you even think about repeating what I said. Go to your room and find some clothes to wear. You have to go to work with Mommy today."
Gavin scampered off and his va**na comment was momentarily forgotten when I saw the look of worry on Claire’s face.
"What's going on? What happened?"
She flopped down next to me on the couch, rested her head on the back of it and closed her eyes.
"My dad was supposed to watch Gavin today so I could finish up some things at the shop but he got called in to work," she said with a sigh.
Light bulb.
"I can watch him for you," I said immediately.
She lifted up her head and stared at me with her mouth open.
"Seriously, Claire, let me do this for you. I would be happy to take him today and get to spend some time with him."
After forty minutes of Claire listing all of the small objects he could fit into his mouth, making me repeat the number for Poison Control back to her eight times and drawing me a diagram with stick figures on a paper towel of how to do CPR, Gavin and I kissed Claire good-bye, got into my car and headed to the library for story time.
It was a public place, full of kids and parents who knew how to take care of kids in case I had a problem or questions. What could possibly go wrong?
***
"…and the sex? Oh you can just kiss that shit good-bye right now. Before we had our son my wife was a dirty little whore. She'd give me bl*w j*bs while I drove down the freeway, she'd dress up in a naughty nurse uniform and greet me at the door when I got home from work and whenever we went out, we always pulled the car over on the way home and f**ked in the front seat."
The man sitting next to me let out a great big sigh. He was another father I met when Gavin and I arrived at the library. He was there with his three-year old son and eight-year-old daughter. His daughter was from a previous relationship and he had his son with his current wife. We started talking when I sat down next to him on one of the couches while the boys sat in a circle with a bunch of other kids a few feet away listening to the librarian read them a book. After telling him the condensed version of my relationship with Claire and Gavin, I asked him for some parenting tips since he’d been around the block a lot longer than me. Little did I know it would turn into a "how much kids f**ked up my life" speech.
"But after our son was born, my penis got put on the "do not call" list. Sometimes, if I listen really closely, I can often hear the sound of "Taps" being played from my lonely balls," he whispered to me as he waved his hand and smiled at his son.
Jesus. Claire and I hadn't even got to the sex part yet. Was this really how it would be? Before I demanded that this guy tell me something good so I wouldn't have nightmares tonight, his daughter Finley ran over to him with a book in her hands.
"Daddy, can you read me this book about horses?” she asked sweetly as she climbed up onto his lap.
“Sure, baby girl,” he replied, wrapping an arm around his daughter and taking the book from her hand.
See? Look at how sweet kids could be. They might be little hellions sometimes but they definitely had hearts of gold. And there was nothing sweeter than watching a father with his daughter.
"Oh Jesus, Mary and Joseph…where did you get this book?" the man asked as a few parents looked in his direction and shot him dirty looks.
I glanced over to see what the problem was and noticed the book in his hand read “The Big Book of Lesbian Horse Stories.” My mouth fell open in horror and I looked around to see if anyone had noticed that there was p**n in the children’s section of the library.
“Honey, go pick out another book,” he told her calmly as he hid the book behind his back.
“But I want that one, it’s got horses in it,” she argued.
“Well, you can’t read that one. That’s a big person book. It’s not for kids.”
Finley rolled her eyes and huffed, handing him the other book she brought over with her, “Poop Eaters”.
This time, her father was the one to roll his eyes. “Poop Eaters”? Again? Really, Finley. You need to find another hobby.”
“She’s got this thing about poop,” he told me as he took the book from her. “When she was little, she used to finger-paint her room with the poop in her diaper.”
He chuckled at the memory and I covered my mouth with my hand to keep the vomit inside. I stared at the little girl’s hands expecting to see it covered in shit.
“A few times when we were at the park she would run up to me and say she had a present for me. She’d hold out her hand and it would be filled with cat poop she found in the sand box. Ahhhh, good times,” he said with a bob of his head.