I can’t even think of a quote today. I’ll just tell it. I thought up a new spot to take Sierra. There’s a military base nearby, part of it was decommissioned after WWII and has been ever decaying, slowly being reclaimed by the grassy fields around it, nestled in a quiet valley. We drove out there this afternoon, it was a beautiful day, sun shining, the road out there winds through the hills out in the middle of nowhere, a good ten minute drive outside the city. She loved the drive, sprawled out in the passenger seat as usual, feet on the dash and an arm out the window, playing with Snapchat on her phone, playing with filters that caused the clouds to sprout smiley faces and drool rainbows, always picking a new favorite tune to share with me.
Once you get on the base, parts of the decaying road are cordoned off, but I wound us through the maze until the pavement ended, here the grass on either side is taller than a man, the only buildings visible are the occasional decrepit watchtower. We came to the back side of the base, butted up against the chain link fence with barbed wire, nothing but hills beyond, and parked off to the side of the dirt road surrounded by tall grass. It seemed perfect, we agreed, natural beauty all around, and not a sign of human life to be seen. Sierra, took a pull off her little glass one-hitter, the dried weed berries lit up red and turned to ash before she exhaled a cloud of smoke.
“Care to share?” I asked.
“I thought you didn’t smoke during work hours, ——” she smiled, since she’d learned my real name, she like to use it, almost mockingly, enunciating every syllable slowly.
And dumping the ashes out the window and opening her purse to refill the pipe, “Let me break out the good shit.”
The marijuana bud she produced from a sealed plastic container was beautiful, large, green, covered in little hairy crystals.
“That reminds me, that guy I know at housing, I ran into him and he just brought over one of those mattresses, he also gave me this bud,” she began, packing the bowl of her one-hitter, “He’s such a child, he totally wants me. He was telling me he wants me to be the sixth girl he cheats on his fiancé with. What do you think I should tell him?”
“To go jump in a river,” I didn’t understand why I felt wounded, burning jealousy, why should I care?
“I guess, he is a bit of a douche. I was over at his place, he shouldn’t be marrying this girl if he is cheating on her so much, I used his hairbrush to fuck with him, maybe she’ll find my hair, save her the trouble,” she handed me the loaded pipe and her Bic.
I put the pipe to my lips and flicked the lighter, drew in a long breath to my lungs then blew it out.
“I mean, do you want my opinion or what is in your best interest? Because my opinion is to tell him to fuck off, but you’ll have to decide what is in your best interest.”
“Haha, I think a supply of good weed is in my best interest,” she laughed then took a hit as I handed her the pipe.
Well, whatever, there were no strings attached here, and she was here with me now anyways. We smoked a couple of bowls. It was good weed, though I didn’t feel high. I could tell Sierra was blazed by the end, but I have some weight on her (not much, but enough I suppose). I leaned over and looked into her big brown eyes, she gazed back, biting her lower lip.
“Hey,” she said meekly, god, she is beautiful, she could have any man she wanted, even half stoned out of her mind and her locks of thick brunette hair going every which way as she laid back against the seat in nothing but tank top and some yoga pants.
I kissed her and we started making out.
Then my phone was ringing, work was calling for the 4th time. I got out and walked into the field, answering the phone. It was nothing major, I peed in the tall grass before walking back. I found Sierra standing on an old concrete platform poking out of the grass, a foundation for some long gone structure, I went and put my arms around her.
“Carry me back,” she smiled.
I turned so she could hop on my back.
“No, not piggy back, like a bride!”
I grabbed her under her back and thighs and hefted her back to the car, gosh I’m so weak these days, I wonder if she could tell how shakily I did that. I opened the rear door and she hopped in and I followed. She laid back on the seat and I got on top of her, between her legs, kissing her.
Sadly, I got that numb feeling again between my legs, I tried to breath, tried to hypnotize myself like last time, thinking about how much I wanted to fuck her. I got a semi-boner and penetrated her, but it was no use, she is just too tight unless I’m fully hard. I could make two or three lines of raging expletives, but what’s the use? I think you know how I felt, how I feel. I gave her head, and fingered her, I gave her a really intense orgasm (seems like the biggest I’ve ever given her). I took some comfort that she said she enjoyed sex when she was high. But all the same, my confidence is shattered all over that back seat, and I’m not sure how to pick up the pieces yet, much less put them back together.
I could sit here and speculate what is wrong, what’s going to happen, but you’ve heard it all before. I can’t help but think she’s fucking mattress dude as I write this, and why shouldn’t she, I’m impotent, and even though I know it shouldn’t, the thought is tearing me apart. A double scotch and some Led Zepplin is in order. Seems like Plant, Page, Bonham, Jones, and Johnny Walker are the only things keeping me together right now. Sometimes dark feelings are better left for the morning light.