Kenneth Mller lived for the moment immediately preceding the black out; the magical moment that occasionally was able to be milked for a nights worth of fun. It was all about balance, to drink enough to feel the carefree euphoria that only alcohol could provide without overdoing it and retiring to the toilet for the rest of the evening. Or, for that matter, without losing all control and transforming into a walking zombie. Fortunately for Kenneth, he found himself at the perfect balance, and he was amped and ready to scourge the bar for pussy. He was with friends, as always, but in a much different environment than was the norm.
Kenny, Steve and Bobby had been sitting in the small apartment they shared and had collectively realized that Eau Claire was dead. In their late twenties, they had been making a living working shit jobs in their old college town, endlessly haunting bars where they had lived their glory days, endlessly being denied by the young women that now frequented the places that had once given them so much joy. It had been at least a week since one of them had seen any sort of action. Far too long for such eager men. Bobby had been the first to suggest a road trip. Not only a road trip, mind you, but a fuck-all, throw every caution to the wind, road trip of epic proportion. They had gone to their respective banks and transferred all of their money from savings into cash. They had packed up all of their belongings (which were few) and thrown them into the back of Kenny's escape.
The idea was simple. Travel aimlessly, stop at whatever city or town they felt drawn to, and party. No consequences, no regrets, and fuck whatever happened when their money ran out. Kenny and Bobby were not at all concerned about the future and were content living in the moment. Steve, however, had already decided what he would do when the trip was over.
Although no date was set, a meeting between a 12 gage and the hard bone protecting Steve's gray matter was imminent. He figured he would ride out the trip, raise some fucking hell, and then hitch it back to Eau Claire. A nice drive out into the Wisconsin wilderness would follow. He would get drunk, listen to metal, and then put the shotgun to his head. He figured it wouldn't hurt much, unless he fucked up and angled the gun wrong, destroying his face instead of his problems. He had heard about a man who had done just that, had angled the gun wrong. The man had been locked in a mental health facility, the ragged holes where his eyes had once been incapable of shedding a single tear. He had eventually used those very holes, slamming his fingers into them as hard as he could and ripping away at the tortured pink contents. No sir, Steve didn't want that.
Steve wasn't thinking about his future destination tonight. He was in a filthy bathroom at some hole in the wall bar in Angler, South Dakota. The coke that he had just snorted off the sink counter was working its way through his nasal cavity and had begun dripping down his throat, numbing the soft membrane within and lighting his senses in an edgy ecstasy. He stumbled out of the bathroom and into the crowded establishment. A few older men sitting at the antique dark oak bar stared at him for a moment, and then looked away. It was clear to the locals that Steve and his friends were outsiders. This particular bar drew a crowd from all of the surrounding towns, and although it was typical to have a large turn out on the weekends, it was usually familiar faces. Steve pushed his sweaty brown hair back from his eyes and began working his way to the pool table where Bobby and Kenny were located. Along the way he eyeballed the crowd filling the bar and smirked to himself. These small towns are perfect. There were quite a few attractive women who were probably sick of fucking the same old hicks. A slender blonde to his left made eye contact and licked the side of her glass seductively. Steve cocked his finger at her and winked, making a mental note to approach her later. It felt amazing to be fresh meat.
Steve found Bobby and Kenny at the pool table and was elated to see that they were in deep conversation with three women.
"Steve!" Kenny exclaimed, "Meet our new friends."
Kenny gave a hungry look as Steve reached his hand out to the women standing around the pool table. Steve was horrible with names, and he made a conscious effort to remember them. Rachel Conaway was the brunette standing to his left, Stacy Halverson the amazingly hot blonde to his right, and Amy Lindstrom was the sheepish girl standing across the table. It was clear that they were also outsiders.
"What the hell brings you gorgeous ladies here?" Steve asked.
"Really?" Rachel responded, rolling her eyes, "Do you really talk to women that way?"
Bobby gave Steve a look and hoped the strung out asshole wouldn't blow their chances.
"Sorry, sorry. It's just weird to see normal looking women at this fucking hick bar."
Rachel looked at him cautiously, and then let her guard down. Just a little.
"Well. We came out this way to get away from assholes like you." Rachel's eyes darkened. "Unfortunately, it looks like the locals might be even worse."
One look around the room confirmed that statement. Men with heavy beards in beat up jeans and flannels were eye-fucking the shit out of the pretty girls.
Kenny jumped in. "Hey Steve, these girls are here visiting Rachel's grandmother's farm. University of Minnesota, right?" Kenny turned towards the girls with a questioning look.
"Yeah, thats right." The blonde, Stacy, answered. "We wanted to get away from the city for a weekend, hang out in the middle of nowhere, collect our thoughts."
"God knows you need more than a weekend to collect YOUR thoughts," said Rachel.
Stacy gave Rachel a light punch to her shoulder. "Screw off, Rach. I do believe I was the one who just aced the biology test."
The sheepish girl, Amy, piped in. "Yeah, well, it was on the male reproductive system, and thats SURELY something you know quite a bit about."
Even Stacy joined in the laughter following that comment. The air seemed to lift a bit and Kenny suggested a round of shots. The girls happily agreed, asking for tequila. Fuck yes! Kenny thought. Tequila makes clothes come off.
***
Bobby and Steve continued making small talk with the girls. The girls were in their second year, had met each other at the dorms and had decided to move in together for fall semester of this year. Rachel was the only girl with a boy back home. Bobby found himself drawn towards Amy, whose inward ways only complimented her subtly sexy body. He could visualize the killer curves lurking underneath her baggy sweater and corduroys. He had never been one to go for the fake girls; girls that spent far too much time tanning and getting themselves ready in the morning. Bobby felt that any girl who needed to take that much effort to be presentable must by pretty unattractive in this first place.
Kenny arrived with shots cradled in his hands and drawn to his chest, a sly smile creeping across his face. He laughed as Motley Crue came on over the jukebox, singing along terribly with the ruckus. The girls accepted their shots and thanked him.
"To friendship and to the fucking asshole hicks that live in this shithole!" Kenny exclaimed.
They all laughed, clicked their shot glasses together, and sucked down the poison. Bobby gagged while Kenny and Steve let out a whoop. He fucking hated tequila. It tasted like fermented urine to him. The small talk continued, growing more relaxed as the alcohol loosened inhibitions. The boys explained the reasoning behind their road trip and the girls found the idea somewhat exhilarating. Eventually, Steve broke the reverie.
"Back to the bathroom for me," Steve said.
Both Kenny and Bobby gave him a nervous look as he walked away. The girls decided that they collectively needed to use the bathroom. Kenny suggested another round of shots and headed back to the bar.
***
Rachel was squatting over porcelain, emptying her bladders contents with her rump strategically floating just above the dirty surface of the toilet seat. She could hear the noise from the bar through the walls. The sounds of people talking and yelling, the music from the juke box, and the stomp of feet on ground combined to make a unique sound that was comforting as much as it was stressful.
"So, what do you think of them?" She asked over the noise. She could just barely hear Stacy urinating beside her.
"Kenny's fucking hot." Stacy's voice responded. "I wouldn't mind riding his man parts, if you know what I mean."
"Yeah, because your so subtle, you fucking slut!" Rachel jokingly replied. "You're just lucky that hick whose dick you sucked last night isn't here now."
Stacy laughed. "It's not luck, sweetheart. It's meant to be. God has a plan for me, and that plan is to enjoy my twenties by fucking as many dudes as I want." The sounds of laughter echoed and died quickly off of the wooden walls of the bathroom.
Amy sighed at the sink. "You know, I really don't think they are bad guys. A little obnoxious, for sure, especially that Steve. But who cares? It's not like were going to ever see them again. We may as well hang out with them for the night." She hesitated. "Plus Bobby is pretty cute." Her face grew hot as she shared this tidbit. They all knew that she was a virgin. Even though she had plenty of options available to shred up her V-Card, she would never go through with it. Not until she was married. This didn't stop the other girls from pestering her.
Stacy started, "Amy, maybe tonight is the night! Maybe tonight Bobby can pop that virgin cherry of yours! I'll warn you, it's going to hurt the first time, but after you take care of that, well..." her voice trailed off, "You will be flopping around in ecstasy like a fish on a hook!"
Rachel laughed as she came out of the stall, watching Amy's face turn an even brighter shade of red. Amy turned towards the closed stall door opening her mouth to defend herself but her voice caught in her throat. Screw it, she thought. I wouldn't even mind making out with that boy. They can give me as much shit as they want, but I know that my choice is the right choice.
"You'd better hope that Bobby doesn't have a big dick, that would make it even worse!" Rachel said mockingly.
Amy gave her a dirty look and suggested they get back out there so that she could get to know the potentially big-dicked boy a little better. They all laughed at that and headed back into the bar.
***
Steve, too, was emptying the contents of his bladder. He was leaning over a urinal with one hand on the wall above him. After finishing, he went to the sink counter and dug through his jacket pocket for the little cellophane wrap that held his happiness. He cut up two large lines, took a wadded dollar bill from his pocket, and inhaled them quickly. He started for the bathroom door, but jumped back as the door swung open suddenly. A large burly man stumbled into the bathroom, clearly drunk. His long, dirty hair clung to his face. Short, ugly veins cluttered his mushed nose, beckoned out of hiding as a result of years of drinking. A stink radiated from him. One of his yellowing eyes was permanently frozen, staring up at his forehead, the other focused on Steve. He began laughing.
"Son, you better just hope them women don't go opening their legs on you. You think it's all fun and games, but theirs is a madness, you better believe. Some of them's just want to out and pop a baby, and don't think for one second that they give a shit about you. They's all got the herps, big ol' blistering pusbags, thats what their slimy cunts are. You better just think twice about sliding that little pecker of yours up in them." The big man let a belch escape his lips.
Steve stared at him, buzzed from head to toe from the alcohol and the coke.
"Oh, fuck off. You probably haven't been near pussy in decades, you fucking douche bag." As Steve walked out of the bathroom he could hear that the big man had started laughing again. Fucking drunk queer, Steve thought. Fuck this hick town.
He returned to the pool table and was surprised to see the shy girl, Amy, talking to Bobby. She was giving him oogley eyes, and Bobby was eating that shit up. The hot one, Stacy, was stroking Kenny's leg. Her fingertips moved from his knee up to his inner thigh and back down. Rachel was seated by herself, and she glared at Steve as he approached. Steve didn't let the glare deter him. He swung around the pool table and approached her.
"What's going on, honey?" He asked.
"What's going on? What's going on is you need to back the fuck off, honey." Rachel replied.
Kenny and Bobby heard the exchange and looked at each other. They could tell Steve was beginning to get angry, and they also knew that he was probably coked out of his mind. Kenny tried to ease the tension.
"Hey, Steve, let's grab another round from the bar." Kenny motioned towards the antique wooden bar.
"Yeah. Fine." Steve said.
Steve went with Kenny, who reluctantly walked away from Stacy, who in turn looked at Rachel and winked. I got him. She stretched her back, her breasts arching forward, and smiled. She was a horny girl, and she was pretty sure she had this one - hook, line, and sinker. She listened in on Amy and Bobby's conversation and felt bad for the poor guy. Amy was a huge cock tease, but Bobby (like all the other boys Amy flirted with) hadn't picked up on that yet. If Amy wasn't around she would have taken care of Bobby and Kenny at the same time. She fantasized about that, her lips wrapped around Bobby's hard cock while Kenny drove into her from behind. Ah well, She thought. Bobby will realize what he is dealing with soon enough.
Kenny and Steve were at the bar counter. The bartender saw them coming and winked at Kenny, his bald head glistening with sweat.
"I have a proposal for you two," The bartender said. "I don't normally do this, but why don't you guys try a shot I made up special for the regular's at the bar. I can tell you aren't from around here, and I'd like to give you something special to remember us by."
Kenny looked at Steve who shrugged. Why the hell not?
"Sure, bring it on, buddy." Steve said.
The bartender smiled and began whipping up his concoction behind the bar. Kenny had a quick moment of self awareness. He was already feeling it. Man, he was at that perfect drunk. He knew he should probably take it easy, should probably let his liver do its handiwork. Unfortunately, that was not Kenny's way. He turned towards Steve. He didn't realize the hypocrisy of the words he was about to speak.
"Steve, man, you gotta fucking lay off the coke. These girls find out and there's a good chance they are going to run."
Steve's nostrils flared. "Fuck that! That whore who wants your cock for dinner would probably kill for a line."
Kenny considered. "We don't know that. We gotta be careful or we're not going to score tonight."
"Whatever, I'm not laying off of shit. A road trip to the middle of fucking n-o-w-h-e-r-e is no place to abstain."
Kenny gave up, realizing that Steve was Steve and nothing would change that. The bartender came back to their side of the bar with drinks in tow. Kenny reached into his back pocket for his wallet.
"Oh no, no. This rounds on me." The bartender chuckled quietly, displaying his crooked teeth in a huge grin.
"Thanks, bro." Kenny uneasily cradled three of the shots and asked Steve to grab the others.
***
The group of outsiders took their shots and carried on with their conversation and flirting. The shots tasted amazing, fruity and potent, but with the slightest bitterness to balance out the sugary aftertaste. Bobby and Amy were in deep conversation. Stacy and Kenny were making out and groping each other. Steve was still trying his hardest with Rachel.
It was Rachel who felt it first. She was drunk, definitely, but the last shot had done something to her. Her vision had lost its edge, and her motor functions had begun to slow. She found she had to concentrate on each breath she took. She looked at Steve, who was wearing an expression of confusion, and at the two other couples. She struggled to speak, to express how wrong she felt. Rachel tried to focus on other people that crowded the bar. Were some of them, no, most of them, shooting quick glances over at their pool table? She let out a thin gasp and looked across from her. Stacy was passed out on the floor with Kenny. Amy was stumbling around, trying to keep upright while Bobby vomited on the dirty bar floor. It was at this point that the bartender started making his way out from behind the bar and towards Rachel and the others. Rachel tried to stand up, to run, to scream, all to no avail. Instead, she simply fell out of her chair and onto the floor, smelling stale beer and grime. Her mind registered the boots of the bartender standing in front of her face. She then heard a gravely voice.
"It's time to see the good doctor now, you hear?"
