Tequila
WILL AND I WALKED away from the compound to his favorite bluff, which had quickly become my favorite bluff. A clear, cloudless sky meant that it was an absolutely beautiful summer evening that would surely turn into a superb night for stargazing.
I carried a blanket to sit on. He carried a small picnic basket with sandwiches made by Cookie—ham for Will, peanut butter for me—potato chips, watermelon, vegan chocolate cookies, water, and a huge bottle of tequila with a couple of plastic cups. So it was going to be a party. Woo-hoo!
But I had an agenda. I probably didn't really want to know the answers to any of it, but what could I say? I couldn't help myself. I had to know.
Still, as we walked, I was suddenly shy. This felt weird. I was never shy. But I guess I didn't want to spend the evening fighting with him about politics, or getting jealous of past girlfriends. And truthfully, I also really liked him and I didn't want to find out anything I wouldn't like.
I still felt an overwhelming urge to ask these things.
I couldn't bring myself to say a word until we got to the picnic site and spread out the blanket over the low vegetation. Since it was one of the longest days of the year, the sun was still high in the sky. The ocean crashed below us, no one else around. We settled on the blanket, sitting cross-legged, facing each other.
"Guess I shouldn't be worried about you takin’ me out here and takin’ advantage of me, given our agreement," Will joked.
"Nope. I do want to talk," I said sincerely.
"'Kay."
"See, that's it. You always have one word answers. Maybe for every one word answer you have to take a shot of tequila—"
"No," he interrupted. "We can each take a shot to get started. And if the other says somethin’ that deserves a shot, that'll be it."
This could get interesting rather quickly. I nodded. At least he was playing along.
He got out the bottle and the plastic cups, poured me a healthy shot and himself a healthier shot, saying, "I'm bigger than you," and downed it.
I drank my shot. It warmed me up immediately. With the kids around this summer, I hadn't been drinking as much as I usually did. We'd see if my tolerance had changed any over the past few weeks.
Will handed me my sandwich, unwrapped his own, took a bite, and said, "Shoot, darlin'."
Now that it was my chance to grill him, I couldn't do it.
That is, I chickened out about asking him about politics. That was the deepest issue and I couldn't start with it. Better to start with basic information that I didn't know.
"Where did you go to school?" I asked, taking a bite of my sandwich.
"College? Cal Poly, up the road. I've gotta degree in Agriculture. Went to high school in Santa Ynez with all the farm kids." Local boy stays local.
"Where have you worked?"
He chewed a bite of his sandwich and swallowed. "I've only ever worked here. Even in college, I came back here on weekends."
"How come?"
"Don't want to be anything other than a rancher. That’s what I am."
I looked at him as I chewed my sandwich. "Take a shot."
He burst out laughing. "I just took one. You've only asked two questions."
"You said whenever the other one says something that deserves a shot, you take a shot. Your work history deserves a shot. You must have the shortest resume on the planet."
"Yep." He sighed. "Fine, but fuck. You’re gonna get me fucked up."
"That's the point. You already asked me about me days ago, and I answered. But when I asked you questions, you barely answered me. So now it's my turn. How many girlfriends have you had?"
He stared at me and his cheek twitched. "That's dangerous territory darlin'. You don't wanna do that."
I let out a breath. "Will, it's a girl thing. I want to simultaneously think you've only ever been with me, but I also want you to have the experience of a professional escort."
"It's juvenile. You don't need to know that shit. It'll just make you mad. If you told me who you’d been with before me, it’d piss me off."
I’d admit that I liked him jealous. But still, I couldn't let it go. "What are you hiding?" I asked, more forcefully, lifting up my chin and challenging him.
"Nothing." He glared at me and took another bite of his sandwich. An idea came to me.
"Were you ever married?"
"No."
"Engaged?"
He let out a breath. "Yeah."
That surprised me. But it was what I wanted to know. "Really?"
"Yeah," he repeated.
"What happened?"
"She told me that I was an asshole and then she went back to Texas. I was with her for all of college. I was young. Think I knew deep down she wasn't the one. She hid all sorts of shit from me that I found out later. Don’t like it when I don’t know what a woman is really thinkin’, I’d rather hear it. I didn't fight it when she left."
I was simultaneously sorry for him and not sorry for him because now I could be the one sitting with him on a bluff by the ocean, drinking tequila. It also explained why he liked my openness. "I think that deserves a shot," I teased him.
"Only if you take one too," he replied instantly.
"Fair enough."
He poured us both another shot of tequila, smaller than the first one, and we both downed it. I was starting to feel very warm now. Another thought came to my mind. "You don't have any kids or anything do you?"
"Fuck no."
"Have you ever been with a man?"
He stared at me.
"What?" I said defensively. "It's just a question. It deserves an answer."
"No," he said emphatically. "Just because I have a gay uncle doesn't mean I'm into that."
"You have a gay uncle?" I'd like to meet him, the real black sheep of the conservative family.
"Yeah."
I nudged a little closer to him, knees to knees, the tequila starting to talk. "What is the kinkiest thing you've ever done with someone."
He looked me straight in the eyes and put his finger under my chin. "Darlin' you don't want to know the answer to that."
"Yes I do." I totally did.
"Don't want to argue with you."
"Yes you do." We stayed that way for a little bit, like children, staring at each other, willing for the other one to give. "Another shot of tequila, Will."
"Fuck, Marie."
"Do it and answer the question."
He poured another shot and downed it, and answered. "Fine. Fucked a woman up the ass while her friend fucked her with a dildo and licked her pussy."
I burst out laughing. "You are a deviant," I whispered admiringly. "A real live threesome."
"Needed lotsa of lube," he continued.
"Holy fuck." I whispered again.
"It was a little awkward," he said, "you know, getting the position right—" Then he stopped. "You don't want to know this shit. Told you I was kinky."
"Agreed. It's hot, though. How did you get to be so kinky?"
"Internet."
"That's not an answer."
"Just how I'm made?" he said, as a question, grinning.
"That's not much better."
"College?" He was starting to chuckle now.
"Still not an answer."
He paused for a moment and looked thoughtful. "Dunno. Never thought about it. I guess I like a little pain mixed with the pleasure. If something is too easy, it doesn't feel right. I feel like you gotta work for what you want."
That sounded familiar. If he was being nice to me it didn't feel right. I inched closer to him, although if I got any closer, I’d be sitting in his lap. "So what do you do now that's so kinky?"
He pursed his lips for a moment and then said, "Orgasm denial. Bondage. Not into fringe shit."
I considered that. It actually sounded okay to me.
"Why anal?"
"I'm a guy."
"What is it with guys being fascinated by it?"
"Dunno."
"Just another hole to stick it in, I guess."
He burst out laughing. "Wouldn't put it that way. Your turn to take a shot. I'm two up on you. We gotta even this out."
"Ever been in a threesome with a guy?"
"Nope."
"Just two women?"
"Yep. Well, once three."
"What?"
He smiled.
"How many times."
"Couple."
"These one word answers are gonna get you in trouble," I warned him.
He laughed, a barking, unusual laugh for him. "I'm tryin' to avoid ripping off your clothes, vixen. Never told anyone this shit. Anyone. Not one soul knows this shit. Give a guy a break."
"How many times have you had threesomes?"
He sighed and hiccuped. "With the same women? Or different women?"
"I don't want to know the answer to that do I?"
"Nope. Multiple." He took a bite of his sandwich and so did I. Then I gestured to the bottle.
"Take a fucking shot."
"Fine." He poured the shot, took the drink, then continued. "My turn. Kinkiest thing?"
"You have already asked me questions days ago," I giggled. "This is not let's ask Marie. There is no grilling Marie session. I'm an open book. I chatter away—"
"What is the kinkiest thing you have ever done, Marie?" he asked again, louder and slower.
Now it was my turn to blush. "Well, once I gave a guy a blow job while he was driving."
Will looked at me in admiration. "How the fuck did he manage to keep driving?"
"No idea. It was down Highway 101 at seventy miles per hour. It was stupid."
"Yeah, road head’s just dangerous, not kinky. Tell me something kinky."
"I was arrested for walking topless around campus protesting Instagram's ban of showing boobies."
He immediately looked interested. And aroused. "Seriously?"
"Yeah. I do protests. I'm the fuckin' liberal, remember?"
He stared at me.
I couldn't resist teasing him, and said, faux innocently, "I wore nothing but jeans and a smile, big guy. I'm pretty sure my picture is on the internet."
He glared at me. "We're both taking another shot for that one," he muttered. He gave us each a shot. I was getting very, very drunk. I didn’t know how Will was handling it. Since he’d drunk more than me, he had to feel it by now.
"Another time, a guy went down my pants and finger-fucked me while I was sitting next to my parents. We were at a concert and under a blanket so they never knew how many orgasms he gave me while the concert played."
He looked at me. I kept talking.
"I’ve acted out porn while it was playing on the screen."
His gaze burned.
"There was this one night in college. With a woman."
"That's it," he interrupted. "We should stop talking about this."
"Yeah."
We stared at each other.
"Are we allowed to kiss or is this no touching for two weeks?" I asked.
"This was your idea," he said. "But I thought of a way around it."