The STANG Part 2

Chapter 2
 
 
“It's not true that I had nothing on. I had the radio on.”
 
―Marilyn Monroe
 
 
Before I get ahead of myself you need to understand something about the dynamic between Heather and myself. She is fire, kinetic energy, balls-to-the-wall twenty-four seven; the kind of virtual, tornado-of-emotions woman yo momma warned you ‘bout. I, on the other hand, am the calm before the storm, the shelter, the negotiator. So when you, or someone like you, gets her to the point where she’s ready to rip your throat out and cut your pride and joy from your body, it’s my calm, funny demeanour that saves yo ass.
 
But remember this as well, although I am for the most part calm and collected, fuck with her and I will pry you open like an oyster, got it? Good. Now, back to what my girl wanted me to tell y’all...
 
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When my phone rang at a lil’ after 2am, I knew it was Heather. No one but my sista from another mista would call at this hour. I knew she’d been goin’ through some shit after Gear’s death, so I didn’t mind the call at all.
 
I couldn’t make out all she was blatherin’ on about so I interrupted and said “Easy, hon. Dang! Let me get some clothes on and I’ll be right over.”
 
I jumped into my jeans and tank top, pulled my hair up in a pony, and hit the door. She only lived about ten minutes away, but I was so worried I made it in six. On the way, I tried to go over what little I understood from her hysterical phone call.
 
Went something ‘long the lines of lost time, Gear’s Mustang, and multiple orgasms. The last part got my interest. I figured she was drunk, but she swore she hadn’t had a drop. One thing’s for certain, I thought as I pulled into her drive, I’m sure as shit ‘bout to find out.
 
When my headlights caught her standing in front of the garage she didn’t look drunk, so again, I was curious to find out what prompted the call.
 
I got out of my car, and as we hugged I asked: “What’s goin on, sug?” She took my hand and led me into the garage and said: “You won’t believe me if I tell ya, so just plant your ass in the damn car.” I did as she asked, more curious than ever.
 
 
I slipped into the driver’s seat and placed my hands on the wheel at ten and two like a good girl and said: “Now what?”
 
“Just wait…” she said. “Relax. Lean yer head back and close your eyes and just… wait for it.”
 
“If ya ain’t gunna tell me nothin,’ then at least get me a drink and the keys so I can listen to some music.”
 
She tossed me the keys and turned to go get us a drink from inside. She looked over her shoulder with a coon-in-the-hen-house smile on her face, winked, and said cryptically: “It’s ok, sug. You can start without me.”
 
Scooching my lips up in a fake kiss, I turned the key to ‘accessory’ and changed the station from the hard rock crap that she and Gear liked, to the local country music station. Luke Bryan was singin Drunk On You. Dang, he’s so hot, I thought, leaning my head back in the headrest.
 
 
As I began to relax, my mind drifting to the words of the song, I started to feel… well, shit. How do I explain this? There was a rush of heat building up between my thighs to the point where I was a lil’ uncomfortable to begin with. Then I felt myself letting go of the steering wheel and reaching back with both hands to grab the headrest. I gave in to the urge to arch my upper body and wiggle my ass in the seat. I bit my lower lip and heard myself moan with the deliciousness of the feeling.
 
My nipples went erect, and down south I was swollen and throbbing. As I gyrated my ass in the seat I found that the stitching in my jeans rubbed just perfectly where I needed to be rubbed. One hand left the head rest and found my breast. Oh my sweet lord! The sensation was so… dang, like I was being touched for the first time. And the faster I moved my ass, the greater the pleasure became. It was as if there was someone fuckin’ the shit out of me from the inside.
 
I moved my body to the rhythm of these unknown manipulations, and soon found myself experiencing the best orgasm I ever had. I cried out it was so intense, and when I opened my eyes there was Heather, with a shit-eatin’ smile and this smug, I-told-you-so look on her face.
 
Visibly shaken and breathing hard, I let my heart rate return to normal before opening my mouth to say something, but dang, what the hell could I say ‘bout what just happened?  
 
All I can tell y’all is I now knew that my girl hadn’t finally just gone completely bat-shit crazy, but, at the same time, I wondered if maybe I had...