The Traveling Vampire Show

We sat on the stairs outside the back door and sipped our beers. We were side by side, so we didn’t have to worry about staring at each other. We could look straight forward at the lawn or grill, or down at the beer bottles we were holding, or somewhere else.

When we first sat down, there were a couple of inches between us. As we talked and sipped, they disappeared somehow, through no fault of mine. I didn’t move, so Slim must’ve. Before you know it, her upper right arm was touching my upper left arm.

I tried not to think too much about it, but I couldn’t quit thinking about it.

Even though Slim and I had been best friends for all those years and done so much together, it was almost as if we were on a first date. Everything about her seemed new and wonderful and scary.

When our bottles were about half-empty, Slim said, “Think the charcoal’s ready?”

I considered jumping up to check, but that would’ve broken the contact between our arms. We might not be able to get our positions just the same when I came back.

“I’d give it another ten minutes or so,” I said.

She nodded, sighed, took another sip of beer, then said, “I’m not in any hurry.”

“Me neither.”

“It’s kind of nice, just sitting here.”

“Yeah.”

“Just the two of us,” she added.

My heart started pounding like mad. Afraid to look at her, I stared toward the barbecue grill and nodded.

“Not that I’ve got anything against Rusty,” she said.

I managed to laugh. “You don’t?”

“He’s okay.”

“For a pain in the butt.”

This time, she laughed. Then she said, “What really bugs me is that he’s always around. I know he’s your best friend and all, but…”

I was tempted to turn my head toward her, but I stopped myself. “But what?” I asked.

“Sometimes I just wish he’d take a long walk off a short pier, that’s all.”

“Same here.”

In a low voice, she said, “Thing is, it’d be nice if just the two of us could do stuff sometimes.”

Now I had to turn my head. Looking her in the eyes, I asked, “Really?”

“Yeah. Not that I want to hurt his feelings or anything.”

Our faces were so close together that her eyes made tiny jerking movements from left to right as if she couldn’t make up her mind about which of my eyes to look at. I could smell a sweet warm scent of beer on her breath.

“Just that I sort of like being alone with you,” she said. “Like now.”

“Same here,” I whispered.

Then Slim reached down between her legs and set the beer bottle on the next lower step. Turning herself sideways, she put her arm around my back. I set down my bottle. When I turned, my knee pushed against her knee. We both leaned toward each other and put our arms around each other and kissed.

Her lips were cool from the beer, and soft, and hers. I’d kissed girls before. A few times, anyway. In fact, I’d kissed Slim before, at least on the cheek a couple of times when she was going away on trips with her mom. But there’d never been another kiss like this one.

The way Slim kissed me, I figured she must be in love with me just the same as I was in love with her. She hugged me so hard it hurt. I took it easy on her, though, because I could feel the bandages under her shirt.

The kiss went on and on. I felt as if I were sinking into Slim. I was in her and she was in me. I had her breath in my mouth and in my throat and in my lungs. I had the tips of her breasts touching me softly through our clothes. I wanted it to go on forever.

Way too soon, she loosened her hold on me. Her lips moved away from mine. Her breasts stopped touching me. But she remained so close that our noses almost touched, and she stared into my eyes.

I stared back into hers.

This time, the staring didn’t make me nervous. This time, it just felt good.

After a while, she tilted her head sideways and kissed me again. This time, her lips barely touched mine before she took them away. “You’re all spitty,” she whispered. She eased away from me, but not very far. She was wet around the mouth herself, and a little bit red. Smiling softly, she leaned toward me again. She stretched out the neck of her T-shirt and rubbed it across my mouth. Then she moved back and wiped her own mouth in the same place. “Kissing can be messy, huh?” she asked.

I opened my mouth. For a moment, I thought I might’ve forgotten how to talk. But I managed to say, “Guess so.”

“Think the fire’s ready yet?”

“Maybe. I’ll be right back.”

Leaving my beer on the step, I stood up and started toward the grill. As I walked, I could feel a slippery wetness in the lining of the swimming trunks that I wore under my jeans. It dismayed me. I mean, we’d just been kissing. It had been the most wonderful kiss of my life. It had been overwhelming, but sweet and pure, not sexual. At least that’s what I’d thought while it was happening. I hadn’t had a hard-on—at least I didn’t think so—and I certainly hadn’t ejaculated.

I’d sure leaked, though.

A hot, sick feeling flooded through me.

While I still had my back to Slim, I glanced down. The front of my jeans was safely hidden by the hanging front of my shirt. Rusty’s shirt, actually.