SERIES: With Words

PART: 1 of 1

RATING: NC-17 (Explicit Heterosexual Sexual Activity, Adult thematic material, language, adult content)

PAIRING(s): L/L

DISTRIBUTION: To Myself  so far; any other archives are welcome to ask, but disclaimers must be included, my email left intact. send a URL, and provide full disclaimers as well as credit me fully. Please inform me if you are going to submit my work to any sort of search engine.  Please do not submit my work to a search engine that picks out random sets of words and uses them as key words, such as "Google"

 

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CATEGORY: Drama

FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!

SEQUEL TO : Shotzette's "True Colors"

SETTING IN TIMELINE: Early Show AU; Canon for Happy Days up to "Fonzie The Superstar"

SPOILLER/SUMMARY: Laverne spends another night at Inspiration Point with Lenny.

NOTES: First of three stories written for Shotzette's birthday in '06.

 

***

 

"And I had a feeling that I belonged - I had a feeling I could be someone.."  - Tracy Chapman, Fast Car.

 

***

 

"It's a beautiful night, DeFazio."

 

Laverne glances sideways at her steady date -  Lenny Kosnowski, her childhood friend, and not one usually for profound thought.  "Yeah," she stubs out her cigarette on the cobbled heel of her shoe and throws her arms around his neck.  "Let's not waste it with words."

 

The kiss is insistent, passionate, and almost instantaneously French.  He gropes her roughly through the shabby and pill-dotted brown sweater, pinching her nipple through layers of blouse and sweater - her nails dig into the back of his neck and she shoves her tongue into his mouth.

 

He spices it up, screwing the nipple around, turning it like he would a knob on a tv.  It hurts and thrills her, and she squawks into his mouth.

 

The buttons holding her cardigan together abruptly go flying in all directions - just as she's about to start batting him around the ear in her outrage, he mutters, "I'll buy you something pretty for Christmas."

 

She relaxes - he parts the now-ruined cardigan and patiently unbuttons the newer, more expensive white blouse beneath.  The hunger in his eyes renews as he realizes she's come to their date braless - then she sees nothing but the cab of his truck as he pushes her across the back seat, his mouth fastening onto her right nipple.

 

A strangely peaceful feeling fills Laverne as she watches Lenny draw on her breast.  She's known him since childhood - since the orphanage, where they had both been raised, scraping and scratching their way past the other children.  They were lucky enough to have been adopted fairly young - he to a moderately well-off middle-class family, she to a loud-mouthed know-it-all from the East Side.  They had met again in high school, where he taught her how to suck cock in a storage closet while cutting class on a dare from his best friend, Squiggy.  Right away she realized what his biggest virtue was - his almost-always rock-solid nine-inch cock.  After a little bit of badgering, she had given him her cherry at the Sea State Drive In while some Godzilla movie played on the big screen - they were both fifteen and utterly mindless.  The encounter had lasted almost the entire length of the movie and ended with her screaming and squirming in his lap after her third orgasm of the night.  When she spilled to Shirley the results of that date Shirley had developed an instantaneous interest in Lenny, and the two girls had fought bitterly for the right to date the boy - finally, Laverne had won, mostly because she suspected he had a crush on her and had no real preference for Shirley's flat little form.  Laverne and Lenny had been a regular weekly item since that night, with no real expectations or hopes for the future between them - the silent agreement was that they were fuck buddies and nothing else.  And now that no one stood in their way - not her salesman of a father, whom she lied to frequently, or their nosey neighbor Edna - fucking was what they did, every Friday night come rain or shine in his backseat, with the occasional quickie thrown in at the women's room at Arnolds and in the break room at the brewery.  Even Shirley seemed not to care - soon after their last hair-pulling, clothes-rending fight over Lenny, she had gotten her hooks into a hunk of prime beef, an ex-boxer named Carmine Ragusa who, according to Shirley, could go all night and then some.    "He's so dumb he probably spells 'Shirley' with a u, but MAN does he know how to dive," Shirley revealed one night after waddling home in the middle of the morning from their date.

 

Laverne doesn’t need all night - an orgasm and she's usually done.  It's the same for Lenny, in most respects - and judging from the lump forming in his jeans he's probably ready to go at that very moment.  He's sucked both of her nipples to sharp points, and abruptly he breaks away from her clinging arms, kissing his way south, shoving her black skirt up to her waist and revealing the coarse hair on her mound.  He growls at her lack of underwear and plasters his lips to her mound.

 

Damn it!  She doesn't want him to eat her - she wants his cock, wants him slamming her mindless on the extra-wide cushions of his truck!  But his tongue starts jamming her clit in his endearingly awkward way, and she knows he won't stop until she's come - or he thinks she's come.

 

She allows his awkward fumbling for an irritating five minutes, then begins gasping, moaning, grabbing his hair, calling his name, crying filthy words, before ending her performance with an abrupt shudder and going still.

 

He rises up from between her thighs, grinning his cute dopey smile.  Damn, I'm good, says his expression, and she gives him her very best C'mere, big boy smile.  He unzips his jeans and shows her exactly what she wants - she reaches out to play with him but he pushes her hand away.  Instead, Lenny grabs her around the waist, both of his huge hands lifting her up and helping her climb over his waist.   His right hand pins both of hers over her head and he gives her a little evil grin before thrusting his hips upward and impaling her.

 

Soon, Laverne has what she wants - his cock, slamming her, banging her against the roof of the truck with every thrust, making her call out and pull out of his grasp so she can tuck her hands into his greasy hair.  The blue eyes pierce her like the cock, looking at her as a serial killer might, a piece of meat he's hooking with zeal. 

 

It's just what she needs.

 

His long fingers are between them, parting her lips and swirling the fat bit of clit, stroking and pinching.  Her eyes widen and she starts to scream, but he thrusts himself forward, trapping the shout between their mouths.  Anyone listening from outside the truck might think he were killing her, and Laverne felt like she was dying, going to a heaven that even she doesn't think she deserves to see...

 

She pulls her mouth away from his.  "Uh!  Fuck!" she snaps, coming apart.

 

"Guhh!  Yeah!  Fuck!"  he retorts, twitching inside of her.

 

What feels like years pass before he pushes her gently aside and reaches over, cranking down the window a little and letting a slight breeze into the now-stifling and sex-scented cab.  Then he splays backward against the cushions, his head falling back, a huge grin on his face.  Suddenly, Lenny seems to remember where he is and digs into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a red bandanna.  "Need to dry off?"  She feels the creaminess within her but shakes her head, recoiling at the idea a little.  "Suit yourself," he shrugs, wiping himself with the bandana and then shoving it into his back pocket before pulling up and zipping the jeans, hiding away the mighty anaconda she so loved.

 

She reaches down, retrieving her purse from the floor of the truck and pulling out a cigarette and a matchbook from the Hidey Ho Motel.  Striking a match, lighting the darkness in orange, Laverne ignites the end of her Camel before taking a long puff.  It takes her a minute or two before she realizes he might like one.  She holds out the glowing stick and he takes it, drawing two deep puffs and exhaling slowly.

 

Just as she's beginning to relax, he says, "Laverne, I can't see you anymore."

 

Her eyes fly open and in an instant she springs to a new conclusion.  "I'm gonna kill Shirley..."

 

"No, it ain't Shirley."  He sighed deeply.  "It's Amy Pfister."

 

Amy Pfister - the sweet blonde girl from church, who Lenny had been dating during the waking hours of the year while he slept with Laverne.  "She found out about us?"  As if Laverne cared.

 

"No," he finishes the cigarette, throwing it out the window.  "I asked her to marry me last night, and she said yes."

 

She resisted the urge to laugh.  "So?"

 

His eyes almost fall out of his skull.  "So?  I'm gonna be a married man now,  and I can't be seen screwing around anymore - hell, I'm lucky Amy hasn't found out already..."

 

"That didn't stop you from doing this with me," she retorts, gesturing to the stain forming on her hopelessly wrinkled skirt. 

 

Lenny boggles at her casual words.  "Laverne, I love Amy, and I don't wanna hurt her..."  She looks away as she buttons  her blouse.  He reaches out to take her wrist, but she shakes him off.  He tries his words again.  "I didn't mean that I don't...."

 

"Drive me home, Lenny."  she says sullenly, retrieving her sweater from the floor without giving him another look.

 

He gives her a sad-eyed look before turning the key in the ignition, spiriting the truck down from Inspiration Point without another word. 

 

***

 

Fifteen minutes later, the truck idles to a stop before the flop-house-esque atmosphere of the Knapp Street building.  

 

"Well, I guess I'll be seeing you at the brewery, Len," she mutters, trying to open the door.  He stops her, pulling her backward and against him, both hands gripping her wrists as if expecting her to slap him.  "Let go of me, asshole," she snarls.  "This time I WILL scream."

 

"I didn't mean for this to happen tonight."

 

Now she laughs - bitterly.  "And you just couldn't help yourself?"

 

"No, I couldn't," he says sadly.  "Vernie, I like you a whole lot...that's why it's so hard for me to tell you the truth and let you go..."

 

"One part of you likes me, Len," she snorts.  "I can't say much for the rest of you..."

 

"...I brought you out tonight so I could say goodbye.  I thought we deserved more than just the usual Friday night thing...You're always great friend, even when we're not doing this..."

 

Her stomach clenches as she recalls that date - a fancy meal at Arnolds, a night of dancing at Tango Tango Tango.  THAT was what had gotten her hoping.  Well, all wasn't lost... "Maybe we don't have to," she whispers, in her most seductive voice.

 

"Huh?"

 

"I could be your mistress."

 

Lenny pulls himself away from her grasping hands with firm authority.  "I couldn't do that to you."

 

"You ain't doing anything to me - I suggested it."

 

"No, Laverne," he says quietly.  "I know this'll make you laugh - but I respect you, and you deserve more.  You're a real sweet girl, Laverne.  I want you to realize that..."

 

She doesn’t laugh.  Sunuvabitch.  A part of her she thought had died years ago - the little girl he had kissed on the cheek back at the orphanage, the one he'd taken to spring formal in a Salvation Army dress - made itself known with a quiver and a sigh.  "I don't."

 

"You do."  He reached over and unlocked the passenger side truck of the door for her.  She pushed out and landed on the curb like a cat.  As she turned and walked blindly to the sidewalk, she felt a hand on her shoulder, spinning her around like a princess.  The kiss waiting for her is sweet, couth, civilized.  When he lets her go a final time, his smile is bittersweet.  The final words are the ones which destroy her absolutely.  "If I thought you would have said yes, I would have asked you first."

 

Laverne says nothing.  There's nothing more to say.  She only watches him walk away and listens to the thunder nearby, feels the sprinkle of a raindrop running down the back of her neck like a kiss. 

 

She will survive.  She knows this.  There are more fish in the sea - richer, more handsome ones who can give her a better time.  Ragusa had given her the odd look of curiosity recently - maybe she could coax him into a couple of quick fucks if she was hard up.   What good is that going to do me?  she wondered, placing a hand over her belly.  Frozen on the curb, watching the only man she had ever really felt love for walk away, she bows her head and lets the rain wash away her fantasies with a burst of lightening. 

 

She tells herself it doesn't matter as her bones become icicles in the cold autumn rain.

The End!