Sunday, January 24, 2016

Don V. (Part 1)

     The doorbell rang at 8:30 on Sunday morning, an inhuman hour for a Sunday.  I managed to slither out of bed without waking Bekka or Jane, pulled on my boxers, grabbed the Beretta, and aimed down the stairs.  If it was Jehovah's Witnesses, I had no compunction about pointing the gun at them and telling them to start running.  We hadn't gone to sleep until 4:30, and didn't intend to get up until at least eleven.  We had a ride planned for the afternoon, scooting up the 5 to San Clemente, then running the Ortega Highway across to Lake Elsinore.  Down the 15 into Escondido, where we'd hit Hollandia Dairy for milkshakes and lunch, then back home for a relaxed afternoon and evening.  A good Sunday.

Don V. (Part 2)

     The ride went extremely well.  Don Ventimiglia loved it.  He hadn't ridden in decades, but old instincts were awakened, and he did fine.  Being on a modern Sportster probably helped a lot, it was a lot more flingable and comfortable than the old Indian he'd spent time on.  He kept up, indulging in the curves of the mountain highway all the way into Lake Elsinore.  As a rider, Jane made a good passenger, keeping centered and not squirming.  As always, Bekka was having a blast, powering along on her big purple machine.

Don V. (Part 3)

As per my request, I was up at the ungodly hour of 7:20, when Jane left for school.  I pulled on the previous day's t-shirt and crept downstairs.  Don V. was out on the deck, taking in the morning air and drinking coffee.  He didn't notice me, so I ran back upstairs and chopped out two lines of speed, one for me, one for Bekka.  I did mine up and stuck my head under the sink to wake up.  Then I went back downstairs and poured a mug of coffee, clearing my throat to not alarm the don.  He turned and said, "Lenny, you are up.  A more reasonable hour, too.  How are you this morning?"

Don V. (Part 4)

     Jane got up with Don Ventimiglia in the morning to start dinner.  She chopped vegetables and potatoes and meat, dumping it all in the crock pot and seasoning it, then starting the crock on Low so it would cook all day.  She'd make biscuits at dinnertime.  Because Sea World opened later than the zoo, Jane and Don V. were out on the deck drinking coffee and watching the morning surfers when I got up.  Jane was attentive to the don's needs.  I finally figured out why she was so interested in the man: it wasn't his money or power, she'd simply never met a man with the graciousness and manners of Don V.  He was charming in an old world way that she'd never experienced before.  With a few words, he made her feel special.  I was still glad she was avoiding showing him affection in the manner she was used to.  An elderly mafia don hooking up with a jail-bait punk rock girl had all the makings of disaster.

Don V. (Part 5)

     Jane got me up when she left for school.  I did my morning line of speed and refilled my vial, then jumped in the shower.  After I was dry I pulled on black jeans, Doc Martens, a plain blue t-shirt, and my holster.  Bekka went in the bathroom and pulled her own line of speed, then jumped into sweatpants and a shirt.  "I'm gonna miss him," she said.

Don V. Addendum: The Mantis

The Birth of the Mantis    

 "And that is what I wish you to do."
     The girl sat on the edge of her bed and stared at Don Ventimiglia.  The don stared back.  She ran her fingers through her thick hair, thinking.  At first she figured he wanted to proposition her for sex, which she would have half-refused.  She would have allowed him to fuck her ass, but not her pussy.  That was sacred, except when she was working.  No, he wanted a much deeper level of commitment.  And she was ready for it.  It was something she had dreamed of.

Tuesday, January 19, 2016

Girl Trouble (Part 1)

     The three of us got our motorcycle licenses in the same week, and we felt like celebrating with a ride.  We decided on lunch in the mountain town of Julian, then dropping down into the desert and having fun out there.  Out through Ocotillo Wells, then a cruise on I-8 back to San Diego.  Maybe stick our heads in and say hi to Boss, if he was around.  Drink a couple Budweisers.

Girl Trouble (Part 2)

     I smiled, leaning against the wall in Boss' den.  Jane was going to town on the pinball machine, racking it up.  She had the touch, at least on this machine.  She was beating me and Bekka, and we'd been playing the damn thing for as long as we'd known Boss.

Girl Trouble (Part 3)

     I was in my office at Inana on Monday afternoon when Jane came in.  She dropped her helmet and gloves on the sofa, then flopped down and put her feet up on my desk.  "How you doing, stud?" she asked.
     "Same old shit around here," I said.  "Where's Lance?"
     "He's got a track meet at another school.  I'm not sure where Escondido is, and I didn't feel like following the bus there.  Where's Bekka?"
     "Home, organizing her sewing scraps.  She's only here on Mondays if I ask her to be or we're working on a feature."

Girl Trouble (Part 4)

     Bekka stood bolt upright from the mirror lying on the bathroom sink, tossing down a straw.  I'd cut her a mix, combining meth and cocaine in one line.  And I'd made it big for her.  She'd been out late last night, drinking with a couple of other performers in various bars.  The last one --- where her car still remained --- was in Oceanside, and populated by Marines.  She had simultaneously titillated and horrified a handful of jarheads by first explaining what she, Elspeth, and Jackie did for a living, then making out with Jackie (who liked girls, a lot) on top of their table.

Girl Trouble (Part 5)

     We walked into Boll Weevil and grabbed a table near the pool tables and pinball machines.  The waitress brought us a pitcher of Miller, we filled our glasses and considered our menus.  God knows why, we always got their big cheeseburgers and a big basket of onion rings to share.  Bekka looked at Jane and started giggling.

Girl Trouble (Part 6)

Jane said, "It's hard to explain.  Yeah, I want to be submissive, but only for Lenny.  I want to be taken by him, hard and completely.  I'm a fuck toy, but only for him.  Does that make any sense?  I hope it does."

Girl Trouble (Part 7)

     Bekka and Sue wanted to go out for a couple drinks --- girl time --- when they finished up, so I headed home by myself.  Pulling up to the house, I saw that both the Cutlass and the stock Sportster were in their places, which meant that Jane was home.  Whether Lance was with her was another matter.  She'd ridden the Sportster to school, which meant she'd have had to come home and switch horses if she was going to get Lance to the house.

Girl Trouble (Part 8)

     The Seafarer was a classy place, and we didn't blend in well on a Friday night.  The bar was well packed.  We found a vacant booth and settled in.  The waitress came and took our orders: double Johnnie Walkers on ice for me and Bekka, a Singapore Sling for Sue, and a double Wild Turkey on ice for Jane.  The waitress didn't question Jane's age, she was too busy being nervous over our very presence.  This was not a bar that often hosted two punk rockers and two porno queen goth chicks.

Girl Trouble (Part 9)

     Saturday was spent lazily, the three of us lounging around the living room.  The bong was pressed into service around 2:30, while we sat around and watched TV.  We ordered food for delivery around six, wolfing down pasta and lasagna and pizza and garlic bread.  Me and Bekka had been burning lots of calories, and unless you want to call two beers each lunch, we hadn't eaten since dinner the previous night.

Girl Trouble (Part 10)

     After lunch we dropped off Rico back at the dealership.  He collected another hug from Sue, had me promise I'd drop off what he'd asked for by the end of the week, and made his way back inside.  His band of thieves had an assignment, collecting twenty late-model Acuras destined for Peru.  His South American buyers tended to wear military garb and would pay with suitcases full of cash.  Dealing with them wasn't his favorite thing, but had to be done.  All in a day's work.

Sunday, January 3, 2016

How Bekka and Lenny First Got Together (Part 1)

     How me and Bekka got together, and how I ended up at Inana?  Back in the spring of '88 I was moving a lot of speed through San Diego.  Quarter ounce, half ounce, full ounce.  Also a lot of Ecstasy.  I'd left my day (actually night) job at a porn shop to pursue this lucrative career.  I still spent some time hanging around the place, though, since the hours of being a meth dealer are unpredictable and there are only so many places to hang around late at night.  Being at taco stands is boring and obvious.

How Bekka and Lenny First Got Together (Part 2)

     So me and Bekka would pal around at work, and on days she didn't perform, I could count on getting a call to find out what the latest gossip was.  I would talk about the two women I was seeing casually, she would talk about her idiot of a boyfriend.  We were settling comfortably into friendship.