The Making of Meaghan Ch. 05

There was a loud roar, a fishing for keys, and "way to go Dave!" the tension from the fight released and the beginning of a loud party breaking out, sure to leave many an epic hangover the next day.

The police arrived and were hauling away the two dudes. Dave went back to talk to them, and was huddled with the cops, Cal and Jeff at the bar. He seems to know everybody, I thought.

"Wow, that was weird." I said to no one in particular.

"Classic," Becky commented, glancing over to the bar. "He's always watching out for the women in his life."

I took a long pull of my beer. Yeah, he sure is, I thought, but not in the way you mean.

"How long have you known Dave?" I asked.

"Oh, a long time," she said wistfully. "We met in Grade 6 and have known each other ever since."

"Wow, that's a long time. Can you tell me a bit about him?"

"Ya know, he was always great and a popular guy. He's very smart and did well in school, but was incredibly athletic too, and was a star on the school basketball, baseball and hockey teams."

"His parents were well off. I think his dad was a doctor, or inventor or something, I'm not sure. I know his dad invented some kind of medical device that keeps arteries open. They lived in a beautiful big house on Lexington. It wasn't easy for Dave though. His dad was violent, and he was always trying to protect his mom and his little sister from him."

"Everything changed in 2000 though."

"Oh, what happened?"

"Well, a bunch of things...he lost a basketball buddy to suicide and the team had to be disbanded for the season. Something to do with the coach."

"He also lost his parents and his sister. He doesn't like to talk about it, but they were killed in a small plane crash, on the way back from Chicago. He was devastated. He would have been with them, but he had a baseball tournament and stayed with a teammate's family. I don't think he has ever been the same since. His uncle was supposed to take him in, but Dave refused and lived at their big house on Lexington, all by himself. He was only 17."

"He became a bit of a recluse after that. He wouldn't go to parties or hang out much. We used to call him the warrior monk cause he still excelled at sports but it didn't look like he was enjoying himself anymore. Instead of partying, he would go for long solo hunting trips or hikes by himself. He just seemed to push himself physically and live a simple life; that seemed to be his thing."

"Anyway, after 9-11, he joined the military and we lost track of him. I had some trouble with my family, and Dave let me stay at his house, a girlfriend of mine too. He didn't ask anything of us, but it really helped us out. He would show up once in a while, looking super lean and crazy fit, but he wouldn't say where he had been or what he was up to. We all assumed he was in Iraq or Afghanistan or someplace, but he would never tell us."

Becky sipped her beer and looked over at Dave.

"Ya know, he won't stand for women being mistreated, so I'm not surprised he took on those two guys over that girl. I had a boyfriend once who was abusing me. Dave came home from a trip and I had a black eye and bruises. When Angus came over, Dave pretty much beat the shit out of him. Angus is lucky to be alive; Dave too, cause he could have easily killed him and gone to jail."

"When Dave went away again, Angus put me in hospital a couple of months later. He was also charged with rape of an underage girl from Strecker, but they couldn't pin it on him. Everyone knew he was preying on young girls."

Becky sipped her beer.

"But in the end, Angus got his due I suppose. You never wish anything bad to anyone, but he was killed on a hunting trip that fall, so that was the end of him."

"Shit, really, what happened?"

"I don't know all the details, but apparently he was in some kind of blind on a ridge with two other guys when he got hit by a bullet right between the eyes. Apparently, it was a long range shot and damn accurate, but the guy must have thought he was shooting a deer cause the guys were in camo. Anyway, they never did find the guy who took the shot."

I took a slug of my beer and looked at Dave at the bar.

"Do you know the song 'Earl' by the Dixie Chicks?" Becky asked, glancing over at the bar.

"No, don't know that one I don't think." I said.

"Funny, they are playing it right now, which is a strange coincidence if you know what I mean." Becky took another sip, not looking at me.

"Did Dave have many girlfriends?"

Becky thought about that for a second. "No, not really. He broke up with Sadie, his high school sweetheart in 10th grade. Broke her heart. She was a beautiful, wonderful girl and a friend of mine. She never really got over that."

"I don't remember him having a girlfriend after that, to be honest, although there were many who tried. He's had a few girlfriends in the last few years, since he settled down again here. There was Jamie, and Bess, and of course, Rebecca."

"Did you know Rebecca?" I asked.

"Well, I knew them all, I guess, sort of. Dave didn't really go out much, so we never really got to spend much time with any of his girlfriends, and the relationships all seemed to come apart after about two or three years. But I do know he was super sweet with them, from what I could see. It's really puzzling that he's still single, and of course, there is a line up of girls who would love to be with him, but he doesn't seem to be interested."

"Can you tell me about Jamie, Bess and Rebecca? What kind of women were they?"

Becky took a moment to think. "Well, I haven't thought about that before. I guess if you had to say what they were like...I don't know...I guess, athletic, funny, tomboys really. I guess that would sum it up. All the girls Dave liked were cute and slim and attractive, and very popular with the boys cause they could talk sports and smack with the best of them. I don't know, what else. Fit, independent, feisty. Definitely the sassy type. They were all runners or athletes of some kind and in great shape. Dave seemed to like that petite hardbody type. I have no idea why none of those relationships lasted. They were all catches."

I looked over at the bar and Dave finishing up with the cops and Cal.

Dave and I left around 11, the party just getting started with the boys feasting and boozing on Dave's tab.

We made our way to the Barracuda. As I pulled open the passenger door, Dave piped in. "Not so fast, sweetheart, there are a few things for you to change into in the back seat."

"You've got to be kidding me...you want me to change...now...like...here, in a parking lot of a bar? Why can't we just go home, come on."

"One of the things I've always looked forward to is getting a hummer while driving home in the Barracuda on a summer night. It's just top of my bucket list, that's all."

At this point, I had gotten used to Dave's obsession with getting hummers, but I wasn't expecting it tonight, and wasn't going to get dressed in girls clothes and give him a hummer in public, that's for sure.

"It's not on. I'm tired. It's late. Let's just go home for fuck's sake."

He pulled out his phone and was tapping a message. I was hoping he was now distracted and would just get over it, and we'd drive home.

"This is a nice shot," Dave said, leaning over to show me a close up of me with a spray of cum across my face. "The boys will like this one." He hit send.

"Fuck Dave! Did you just send that! What the fuck are you doing?!"

"Did you know a neat feature of Gmail is the unsend feature?" he said matter of factly, not looking at me. "You have 30 seconds to retrieve a message you have just sent," Dave said, seemingly to no one in particular, staring at his phone. "You never know when you might want to unsend an email and get it back."

"Ok, Ok, for god's sake, don't send that picture, I'll do it! Get that back!"

He looked at me for a second. "Oh ok, thanks babe, you can change beside the car," and he hit the unsend button. I sighed with relief my heart racing at the thought of who might have received that picture and what it would do to my life.

I got out of the car, grabbed the bag on the back seat and opened it. I can't believe he's making me change in a parking lot, but at least it was quiet and there was only one halogen lamp casting a dull light from across the parking lot.

I opened the bag. A retro summer dress in white with a red floral pattern and thin black belt was neatly folded next to a pair of suede ankle strap open toe sandals and a pink sweater. I glanced around the parking lot to make sure no one was looking, and stripped off my jeans and shirt, suddenly chilled and feeling a light breeze across my nylons. I can't fucking believe I am standing in a public parking lot in panties, a bra and nylons, pulling a dress over my head and adjusting the ankle strap on a pair of heels. Fuck, what did I do to deserve this!

"Let me help with that," Dave said, suddenly appearing beside me, pulling the last few inches of zipper up as the dress cinched in tight against me.

"God, you look great in that. And that dress goes so well with the car; right out of the 50s!" Dave was clearly enjoying himself.

"Pull your dress up," he said, "I want to see your ass."

"Fuck, does this need to happen here?"

I pulled up my dress over my ass and stared off at far end of the parking lot nervously to make sure no one was coming this way. Dave admired the view of my thin legs in nylons and pumps. He stroked my ass up to the waist of the dress and gave my butt a little squeeze. I shivered.

"Very nice," he said quietly, opening the door of the Barracuda for me. I slid into the seat, without thinking keeping my legs together and sweeping my dress hem out of the way of the closing door like a girl. We made eye contact at that second, a look that was knowing and disturbing at the same time.

He settled back into the driver seat. "Here is a makeup kit. There is a mirror on the backside of the sunshade."

"Jesus, you are one very strange person. I tell you what. If you will have one honest conversation with me, I will put on makeup and...ya know...do it."

"It's a deal."

I opened the makeup kit and noticed something shiny on top.

"What's this?"

"Oh, it's just a watch and some jewelry."

I pulled out some earrings, two silver leaves dangling from azure colored beads beneath the clasps.

"Let me guess. These are actually solid silver."

"You're catching on," Dave said with a smile.

Next was the watch, an elegant analog watch in a gold square with a thin black wristband.

"I'm not going to even ask how much this cost."

"Probably best," he smiled.

"You like to treat your ladies well, I'll give you that," I said, blushing and momentarily at a loss for words after I realized I had referred to myself as a lady.

"I certainly do." Dave smiled again.

I pulled out the concealer and foundation and began applying the makeup self consciously, Dave watching intently.

"So, you know this is fucking weird right?" I said, applying a base of foundation to my beard area. "This whole fetish of yours is not normal. In fact it's extremely strange. You kidnap a friend of yours, force him to dress as your girlfriend, sexually abuse him, and all the while, insist you are not gay. There must be some reason you are this way Dave. What happened? Did you always have these fantasies? Did something terrible happen to you as a kid?"

"Why does something terrible have to have happened to explain why I am the way I am? Truth is, most of us have far more complicated sexual identifies than we can admit openly, or even to ourselves. We shut it all down. It's like one of those inconvenient truths that Al Gore was talking about. Society can't handle the reality of how people actually are, or at least not yet."

"I am pretty damn sure Al Gore was not talking about your fucked up sexual behavior," I replied, careful to apply to eyeliner without a smudge.

"What happened in high school that changed you? Right about when you dumped Sadie."

Dave turned toward me, his eyes dark pools like I hadn't seen before.

"What is it with you chicks? You have to make relationships so complicated," a wry smile crossing his face.

"It's only fair Dave. I know your ideal is to have an emotionally shallow, sexually depraved relationship that involves nothing but sucking, fucking and making dinner, but ya gotta throw me a bone now and again. The only thing you have shared with me so far is your dick and cum. A girl deserves more."

There I go again, referring to myself as a chick. I have to stop that.

He chuckled. "I'll throw you a boner, how about that?"

"Very funny, ha ha." I focused on the mascara, making sure I didn't touch my eyelids.

"Fair enough, these are great questions, and I'll answer them, but you need to have your face on my cock first."

"And you need to put the new ear rings in and your watch on."

I took one last look in the sun visor mirror to put on my ear rings. They were beautiful, catching the light with a glint. I slipped the watch over my wrist, my arms looking alarmingly slim and feminine without body hair.

I hesitated for a moment. "Ok...pull your pants down a bit."

"That's what I want to hear. But there is some lipstick and gloss in the bag too. Nothing beats watching the tip of your cock slide past a shiny pair of hot lips and having a lipstick stain at the base of your cock after a hummer."

I sighed. "I imagine so, but I wouldn't know...I seem to have forgotten what that might feel like."

"Now, now, just remember, all the great thinkers say that true happiness comes from giving not receiving."

"Yeah, you should try it some time."

Dave chuckled.

"You can get help with this problem Dave, you know that right?" I said, checking myself in the mirror.

"I do, and I appreciate all the help you are giving me babe."

He looked at me admiringly. "Just give your a hair a little fluff up, like girls do."

I pulled the hairband off and fluffed up my hair in that shaggy, JF-ed look that guys like and I don't even want to think about.

"Right, there ya go. That looks great. Becky has clearly been teaching you a thing or two. You look hot."

I sighed. "Here's an idea. Why don't you kidnap an actual hot chick? You can tie her up, sexually abuse her, take pictures of her in compromising situations and threaten to send the photos to family and friends to keep her in line. Think about it. You wouldn't have to waste time teaching her how to put on makeup and be a hot chick, cause she'd already be one, plus there would be no junk to get in the way."

Dave looked at me, puzzled.

"Ya know, there is so much wrong with that suggestion, I don't even know where to start."

"First off, I would never abuse a woman like that, and I can't believe you even suggested it. Woman have suffered enough abuse at the hands of men to last an eternity. I won't have that on my conscience."

"And second, it wouldn't work anyway. She'd give up, the sex wouldn't be hot; it would just be pathetic. Besides, the kind of girls I like are feisty and strong willed; if I tried to make a sex slave out of one, she'd probably just cut my dick off while I'm sleeping."

"Oh sorry, my bad, for some reason I thought you were Ok with abusing people. Not sure where I would have got that idea from," I replied sarcastically, "and what makes you think I won't cut your dick off?"

"Ah, well, first of all that is where you are wrong. I am not abusing you. I am just helping you realize your true self; it's different. You'll thank me in the end. You'll have a better life and way better sex than you ever imagined, you just have to stop resisting."

"And to your second point, you don't have the balls to cut my dick off. Deep down, you want to worship my dick, so you could never bring yourself to cut it off."

"Gee, thanks Dave, I don't know where I'd be without you. Maybe having a life, maybe normal. Maybe meeting a hot chick and having a family."

Dave smiled, his left arm casually leaning over the steering wheel as he turned toward me.

"Let's face it, you'd never land a hot chick, and working for a living is over-rated. You'd just be working in a dead-end job, your wife would be frigid and annoyed with you all the time, and your kids would have a closer relationship with their iPhones than you." He smiled.

God, I hate it when he throws the wet blanket of his deep cynicism on me. Especially since he's probably right.

"I'm going to give up now. You're just a nasty person Dave."

"Oh come on, give me a chance babe, you hardly know me," he laughed.

"Getting to know you just frightens me," I replied, finishing my makeup with the cherry lipstick and gloss.

"Fright is an under appreciated emotion, especially in a relationship like ours." We made eye contact. I shook my head and he just smiled.

"You have to love the bench seats in these classic cars hey, they were thinking of everything."

Dave unbuttoned his jeans a bit more, and pulled his cock through the slot in his blue boxers.

"It might come as a shock to you, but not everyone thinks about getting hummers all the time," I replied, sliding along the bench seat and leaning in towards him.

"We could debate that one," he replied thoughtfully, reaching behind my neck and pulling me down into his crotch.

His dick was semi erect in the dim light from the dashboard. He guided my mouth onto him and I began to suck his tip, which engorged and swelled in my mouth.

God, notch up another experience that I always dreamed of, a blowjob in a classic convertible, except I am on the giving rather than receiving end as usual.

We started to drive, Dave keeping his hand on my head gently pushing me on to his cock. We drove for a bit, me slurping away on his cock, getting the sense that he mostly wanted the sight of me on him rather than expecting to blow his load. He ran his hand along my back and waist, resting on my hip, pulling up the hem of my dress to run his hands on my nylons which made me shiver.

I sucked his tip intently, swirling my tongue along the edge of his helmet. "So what happened with Sadie?" I asked in between sucks.

He paused for a second, obviously thinking about his reply. Not like him, I thought.

"Let's just say my life took a few turns then that made it difficult to be with her."

"Whadya mean?" I slurped on his tip.

"Well, we had a high school basketball coach who was a little too friendly with his players, let's put it that way. Some things happened to me and a few others that I don't want to talk about."

"Shit, I am sorry Dave," I said looking up. "Did he get caught in the end?"

"I suppose you could say that something caught up with him. I heard he drowned in a boating accident on Lake Wipigon that summer."

I thought about that for a second as I plunged Dave's cock to the back of my throat. I felt his hips tension with the pleasure of it. I pulled off his cock and looked up at him.

"And where were you about then Dave?"

He kept looking ahead as he was driving, but I could see a wry smile cross his face, his eyes dark pools.

"Just minding my own business I'm sure."

I hesitated for a second, taking another suck and then looking up at him again.

"Let me guess. That's what you were doing when Angus got shot on that hunting trip, right?"

The grin spread across Dave's face, his hand gently but firmly pushing me back onto his cock.

"That's one of the things I really like about you Brian. You're not just a pretty face."

He shoved me more firmly onto his cock this time, backing his shaft up against my throat so I couldn't ask any more questions. I focused on sucking him and not gagging for the next few minutes, wondering if I should try and get him to cum. When it seemed he just wanted to see and hear the sound of me sucking him, I settled back on the top four inches of his cock, sucking gently, working his wet shaft with my hand, my back aching a bit from being bent over the seat, pondering the pieces of the puzzle I had heard from Becky and Dave about his life.