Brad's Road Trip Ch. 09

She laughed. I smiled. "No trips to the post office, thank God, but yeah, I don't think they'd like it very much at the doctor's office, either."

"Doctor?" I asked curiously. "What's wrong?"

"Oh," she said, and went silent for a minute. "Nothing. Just a routine checkup."

"Why the silence there, Kelly?" I asked. "Is something wrong?"

I knew enough to tread carefully about her dad and the ex-boyfriend, but on this, I felt like she was keeping something from me. I only pressed people into telling me things when I felt like I was being lied to.

"Nothing's wrong," she said. "I was just walking to the fridge to get the appointment card, to make sure I remembered the time right."

I guess that made sense. Maybe.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Brad," she said, sounding like she was rolling her eyes in the process. "I promise."

"All right. I'm a little anxious to get this surprise you're sending, so I guess I'll let you get to your day."

"I bet you are anxious," she laughed. "Drive safe, and call me later."

We hung up, and I got back to focusing on the roads. Up ahead I could see some large hills – out here, they probably called them mountains. But when your hometown is in the Rockies, there are only a few areas that compare enough to be called mountains: the Himalayas, the Alps, and the Andes. Everything else is just a steep mound with some trees.

Go ahead, call me a mountain snob. Mountains are mountains, and hills are hills.

I hoped Kelly would send her message soon, because I figured I might have some spotty cell coverage out here in the geographic center of West Virginia – a state that didn't have a whole lot going on anyway. Just as I rounded the first curve, my phone buzzed.

It was a text message with a picture embedded in it, and I didn't have to wait long to see it. The image made my cock spring to attention again, as sticky it may have been. It was a close-up shot of Kelly's pussy. Her index and middle finger looked wet as they spread her lips open, and her pink walls glistened with her arousal, too. Her clit stuck out at the top, held captive by the two fingers. I couldn't see any hair in the picture.

I quickly saved the picture to my phone and set it to be my new wallpaper. Sure, that made it easier for someone else to see, but I'd just have to be careful who looked at my phone. No way I wasn't going to look at that picture every chance I got.

******************

Legs.

Long legs, lean and tanned, glistening in the sun. That was the first thing I noticed when I pulled into PNC Park, the home of the Pittsburgh Pirates.

I was so busy staring that I almost ran over a couple people in the parking lot, and I have no idea how well I parked. I didn't much care. Her legs were long enough to reach me from four rows over. She was leaning over the tailgate of a truck, sticking out her ass for the whole world to see.

I was seeing.

They were like tractor beams, these legs. I couldn't help but make my way toward them. As I got closer, I got a better view. They were indeed long, though not as tan as I'd originally thought. It didn't matter -- they were fucking exquisite. She wore a pair of cutoff denim shorts, which hugged her ass so perfectly I had to make sure I wasn't staring at a billboard. If someone wanted to sell more of these shorts, this was the shot they'd use in the ad.

I was supposed to be meeting some people, but I had no idea where Josh and his friends were tailgating. And anyway, you don't pass up a chance to talk to whoever owns legs that spectacular. I figured I'd find Josh soon enough.

I couldn't have been more right.

As I approached the truck she was leaning over, I noticed two guys standing a few feet behind the girl, drinking in the same view I was. And as luck would have it, Josh was the last member of the group, sitting on the tailgate holding a beer bottle. We'd never met in person, but I recognized him instantly from the pictures I'd seen.

I was still two rows away when the girl stood up straight and turned around. As I'd expected with such awesome legs, she was taller than most girls, probably standing somewhere around 5-10 or 5-11. Her long, curly brown hair fell over her shoulders and spilled down her back, but a few loose locks framed a face that, while not on par with her legs, was still pretty attractive. She noticed me coming before the others did, and when smiled at me, I happily returned it. She said something to Josh, and he looked up.

"This is what passes for tailgating up here in PA, huh?" I asked, walking up to the group and doing my best to pretend I hadn't been staring at her luscious ass for the past three minutes. They were drinking cheap beer and eating food from Burger King sacks. There were no grills, no generators, no finger foods, no RVs, no hard alcohol.

Josh slid off the tailgate with a grin and headed toward me. At 25, he was a little bit older than me, with short, brown hair and a muscular fit that certainly suited his job as a fireman. He was just about as tall as I was, a couple inches over six feet. We slapped hands and did that little half-hug thing men like to do, for some unknown reason.

"Brad, nice to meet you, man," he said. "After four years of kicking your ass all over the Internet, it's good to finally put a face with the name."

"Yeah, right," I answered. "You've finished higher than me once in four years. Too many damned Pirates on your teams."

"One of the many difficulties of being a Pirates fan," Josh answered. "Anyway, Brad, meet Drake and Doug. We all work the same shift down at the fire station."

"Nice to meet you guys," I said, exchanging handshakes all around. I was more interested in him introducing the girl, but the two guys seemed nice enough. Doug was so massive, he could have played left tackle for the Steelers. Drake was a shorter black guy with a steel frame. About that time, the person I wanted to meet the most reached into the cooler and tossed me a beer.

Bud Light. Meh. I remembered that Tracy had been drinking one before I ordered her a Sam Adams last night. That thought led to a myriad of others, and I would have been happy to relive the memories if not for present company.

"And this is Maria, my girlfriend," Josh said. She smiled at me and clutched Josh's arm. I won't lie -- I was more than a little disappointed. "She's partially deaf, so if anything bad happens today, just yell at her. She probably won't hear you, anyway."

"Uh, ok," I stammered, not sure what had brought that on. I looked at the other two guys, both of whom wore knowing, slightly resigned smiles. From Josh's speech, it appeared he had quite the head start on me in the alcohol department.

"It's called 'hard of hearing', jackass," Maria said, slapping Josh on the head with an old, worn out baseball glove that had been sitting on the tailgate behind them. "You're such a prick sometimes."

Josh blatantly ignored her and went back to scarfing down the Whopper he'd been working on when I'd arrived. Drake and Doug started talking about something else, and Maria came over to me. I stuck my hand out, and she shook it demurely. I must have still looked bewildered, because she smiled and started explaining.

"I am partially deaf," she said. Her speech was perfectly clear and normal, though, so I guessed it was something that had happened later in her life. "You might have to say something to me twice if I'm not paying attention to you already, even if you

scream it the first time. But other than that, I'm normal."

"So why Josh's weird introduction, then?"

"He's mad at me," she replied, finishing off her beer. "I noticed you walking across the parking lot, and I said you were cute."

"Ah," I said, smiling inwardly at the compliment. "I guess some guys don't like to hear that their girlfriend finds another guy hot."

"I didn't say hot," she said, grinning. "Just cute."

"Yeah, but look at me," I said, smiling widely now. "You meant hot."

She playfully punched me in the chest. "What would you do if your girlfriend told you she found another guy attractive?"

"Nothing," I said. "I'm not stupid enough to think that just because she likes me, that makes every other guy in the world look like Carrot Top. As long as I know where her loyalties lie, I'm good. I don't have insecurity issues."

"Obviously not," she replied.

"You want to hear a secret?" I asked. She grinned and leaned in a little closer. "I spotted your legs the moment I pulled in here." I didn't whisper, but I didn't say it loud enough for anyone else to hear it, either. She pulled back abruptly, but she had a big smile on her face.

"I'm a little ashamed of myself," I continued. "Legs that long, and that nice.. I should have spotted 'em from a couple blocks away. Hell, I should have been able to use them to guide me all the way to the stadium, GPS be damned. Guess I'm off my game today."

I wasn't going to go any farther than that -- she was Josh's girl, and despite the stupid comment he'd just made, I wasn't gonna fuck with that. Still, she'd given me a compliment and it had aggravated her boyfriend, so the least I could do was tell her a little of what I was thinking.

"Well, I'm glad you're a fan," she chuckled. "You want some food?"

"Yeah, but not out here," I answered in a normal voice. "I've eaten out of a paper sack more than I care to remember over the past week or so. The food in the park might not be any better for me, but I'm guessing it will taste better."

"That's definitely true," Drake said, walking over to us holding a white Pirates jersey. "This is for you to wear today."

"Aww, man," I said. "I barely agreed to root for them. You said nothing about having to wear their gear."

"That's the way it's gotta be," Josh said, ambling over. He'd clearly had a few to drink before I arrived, as he was already slurring his speech and unsteady on his feet.

Doug and Maria agreed with Josh and Drake, so I grumbled as I took the jersey.

"We're already wearing the best of what we got," Doug said. "So you had to take what was left. I don't think Drake has worn this one but once."

"I tried to give you the Snell jersey," Josh said, "but Maria insisted on cramming her big ass into it, so, you get this one," he said.

My jaw just about hit the ground, and Drake and Doug just looked down. Maria opened her mouth to say something, but it caught in her throat. I could tell the comment hurt, despite there being absolutely zero truth to it. Ian Snell was probably the Pirates' best pitcher, and his jersey was hanging loosely off Maria's slender shoulders. If a good breeze picked up, she'd have been wearing a cape.

"Really, Josh?" I finally said, since no one else was going to speak.

"What?" he asked, honestly unaware that he'd said anything wrong. "Just havin' some fun with her."

I flashed an apologetic smile at Maria and turned to the jersey in my hand, then looked back at what the others were wearing. The three guys were wearing jerseys for Jason Bay, Adam LaRoche and Freddy Sanchez, Pittsburgh's three best hitters. Mine was the number 19 of infielder Jose Bautista.

"Yeah, I think this will do just fine," I said, trying to put a stop to the awkwardness Josh had brought. "Those other four are never going to amount to anything, anyway. Bautista has a pretty sweet stroke. If he can ever get out of this environment that promotes mediocrity, he'd be an MVP candidate."

I slipped the jersey on over my polo shirt as the guys countered. "Bautista?" Josh scoffed. "He'll never be anything more than a decent corner infielder. In two years he'll be somebody's utility man, the 24th or 25th guy on the roster."

"That's why I beat you like... well... like the Pittsburgh Pirates every year in fantasy," I said. "I know talent. You... you pick a lot of Pirates. And not even good Pirates."

The other three guys and I jabbered back and forth for a few more minutes, but I noticed that Maria stayed quiet. Finally, Josh announced it was time to head to the game. Dozens of other partiers were heading in as well. I looked at my watch – first pitch was in about an hour. Before we left, I tossed my Braves cap in the cab of Josh's truck. I couldn't let anyone know I was a fan of a real baseball team – didn't want them to get jealous and try to whip my ass or anything.

As we entered the park, we passed by a gigantic board that showed the NL Central standings. In a miracle equivalent to the loaves and fishes, the Chicago Cubs were in first place, by two games over the Milwaukee Brewers. Everyone else – Pittsburgh included – had losing records. I couldn't resist.

"You know when your life sucks as a baseball fan?" I asked. No one answered immediately, so I told my own punchline. "When you look at the standings and wish you were the Chicago Cubs."

I guess Maria was over it, because she threw a sharp elbow into my ribs. The three guys tossed up various gestures and verbal jabs unsuitable for children.

Josh's seats were right over the visiting team's dugout. Ironically, the visitors today were the Cubs. I sat in the middle of the five seats, with Drake to my left and Josh to my right. I devoured a couple hot dogs and passed a tub of popcorn back and forth with Maria, doing my best to spill some on Josh each time the tub passed over him.

In the third inning, Bautista, the guy on the back of my jersey, drilled a fastball from Ted Lilly over the right field wall with a runner on second base. I didn't even have to be prompted to get up out of my seat and cheer.

I'd more or less forgotten about my initial attraction to Maria, but in the fourth inning, she reminded me -- and pretty much every other male sitting in Section 112 at PNC Park. When she stretched her legs out and hung them over the empty seat in front her, she had my attention. When she started dangling her left sandal off her toes, I groaned. I wasn't worried about Josh's reaction, because I wasn't the only one. He was looking too, as were Drake and Doug on my left.

She didn't seem to have any idea of what she was doing, or what it was doing to everyone else. She just kept up the idle, small-talk conversation the five of us had been carrying on all game. If she'd looked at us, though, she'd have noticed us staring. The show ended an inning later, when the Cubs hit a two-run homer of their own and Maria stood up to boo.

When the teams swapped sides in the middle of the sixth inning, Maria, Drake and Doug all went to get more beer and food. That let Josh and I catch up some.

"The trip been going well?" Josh asked me.

"I have no complaints," I said. "I've been to a few concerts, hung out with some old friends and new, and this is my second baseball game. It's been just about the perfect week."

"Any women along the way?" he asked. It was a pretty blunt question, but I could respect that. Besides, the message boards in our fantasy baseball league had likely gotten far raunchier than anything we'd discuss here, with a few dozen kids within earshot.

"My share and then some," I replied. "At least one in pretty much every state I've spent any significant amount of time in."

"Don't matter." Josh said, catching me a little off guard. "If you haven't been laid in Pittsburgh, man, then you ain't been laid."

"There is some nice scenery here, I'll give you that," I said. The hottest woman I'd seen all afternoon was the one sitting on the other side of Josh, but I kept that little tidbit to myself. "But you don't know what I've seen on this trip, man. I seriously doubt it."

"Guess I've got to prove it to you, then," he said.

"Nah, man," I answered. "The thing is, I never go out looking for it. It just seems to find me."

"What if I find it for you?" he asked, forcing me to do a double-take.

"Say what?"

"I'll bet I can get you laid before you leave," he answered, a smug grin on his face.

"Yeah, right," I said. "I saw how smooth you were with your own girlfriend out in the parking lot."

"She just gets on my nerves sometimes, s'all," he answered. "But I'm serious. I will put money on it. I will get you laid before you leave."

"You know I leave bright and early tomorrow, right?"

"Yep," he said, sticking his hand out. "Loser buys the beer at Wrigley next week."

Josh and I were going our separate ways tomorrow, but next week we were going to meet up again in Chicago for a Cubs game, with a couple of other friends.

"Deal," I said, accepting the handshake.

The others came back right as the bottom of the sixth started. My attention turned back to the game, but I noticed the grin never left Josh's face. The beer wouldn't be a big deal – hell, if he could pull this off, it'd be worth the tradeoff. Still, I doubted his ability, chalking his boasting up to 50 percent cockiness, and 50 percent cheap beer.

**************

The game went into extra innings, but the Cubs took the lead in the 12th, playing small ball to manufacture a run with a single, a stolen base, a perfectly executed sacrifice bunt, and a sacrifice fly to move ahead 4-3. Their closer, Ryan Dempster, struck out all three Pirates in the bottom of the inning, giving the Pirates yet another hard-luck loss.

I expected the fans to be pretty depressed, and maybe some of them were. My particular crowd, however, was taking it pretty well. Part of it was alcohol, I'm sure, but I guess when you see the same movie enough times, the ending stops surprising you.

"Well, that sucked," I said as we headed back out to the cars. I'd only drank enough beer to get buzzed, and that had stopped around the 7th inning, so I was good to drive.

"You sound like a Pirates fan," Josh mused.

"Today, I was," I replied. "Thanks for breaking me of that early."

"Gotta be a diehard to be a Bucs fan," he said.

"No thanks," I answered. "I prefer being a fan of a team who wins once in a while."

"You guys down for some wings?" Drake asked.

"Fuck, yes, I am down for some wings," I said. Despite the numerous hotdogs, nachos and popcorn I'd eaten at the game, it was dinner time now and damnit, I was hungry.

"All right, then," Josh said, admiring my enthusiasm. "Just follow me."

I nodded, but Maria interrupted.

"I'm riding with him," she said, jabbing a thumb at me.

"Why?" Josh asked.

"Because your truck is too fucking small for four people, especially when one of them is fucking Andre the Giant," she replied. I looked over at Doug – while not quite as large as Maria said, I estimated he stood about 6-6 and tipped the scales closer to three bills than two.

"For the last time, Maria," Doug said. "I am not fucking Andre the Giant."

I laughed, but no one else did – apparently, this was so old a joke for them, they stopped finding it funny.

"Whatever," Josh said, waving a hand at us. The three guys headed toward Josh's truck, and Maria and I kept walking farther into the parking lot, heading for my Stratus.

"You kiss your mama with that mouth?" I asked.

"What?" she shot back.

"You dropped two f-bombs in one sentence back there," I said.

"Oh," she instantly blushed. "Just when I've had too much to drink."

"Uh huh," I countered. "I bet you cuss like that all the time."

"Only if someone makes me," she said. There were a couple ways I could interpret that. Since she was Josh's girlfriend, though, even as poorly as he'd been treating her today, I played it straight.

"Gotta learn to control that temper, hon," I replied.

"What?"

"Hmm?" I answered. She smiled, and I returned it.

"Fuck you," she said with a grin. We'd reached my car, and when I got it started up, Josh was waiting behind me in his truck. I followed him, and we began a slow weave through Thursday afternoon traffic. Josh wasn't too difficult to follow, so I was able to keep on his tailgate and manage a conversation with Maria at the same time. She was a college student working her way through the political science program at Duquesne in downtown Pittsburgh.