Free Love

"Yeah! You like it when I fuck that pussy, huh? Mmm. Yeah. You like it when I fuck your tight pussy!" Monday morning light poured through his nephew's blinds, exposing each of his leathery wrinkles. Sweat droplets rolled from his thin silver hair, falling onto a weathered, focused forehead. "Mmm. You like they way I fuck you, huh?" he continued.

Free love, free love. The phrase looped in my mind. Free love, right? That's what this is. Free love, free love.

My body was motionless, taking him in like a virginal dead fish. The only sign that I was enjoying it at all was a false one--a lip bite that served solely to stifle my laughter. Free love with Uncle Davey. Free love with a man who was in his prime when “free love” was coined.

I had warned him earlier when his dick pulsed and grinded against my back that I was in no condition to have sex. I had been drunk for a thirty hour span, at least, and every inch of my insides was punishing me for it. Sweaty palms, useless muscles, earthquake stomach.

Saturday night I met up with Josh, Ed, and Bridget, half-gallon of vodka in tow. None of us had much money for drinks at the bar, but if we slammed enough bottom shelf beforehand, this wouldn't be a problem.

As usual, we showed up to ABG's a bit drunk. But there was a show that night, completely out of the question for our measly drunk budget, so the four of us stood outside trying to devise a new plan when we ran into two older men, Davey and Dennis.

"Shit! You're from Michigan?"
"Yeah."
"I fucking love everyone I ever meet from Michigan!"

The two of them joined the four of us on to our next location, City Limits. When we got to the bar, we soon realized that our pregame was unnecessary. Davey and Dennis made sure all four of us had jello shots and beers at all times. They even took care of another one of our acquaintances that we ran into. Even after City Limits, we stumbled to a dance club, and Davey paid for all of us to get in. This old man from Michigan must have blown at least a hundred on us that night. What a novelty! How are we partying with these old men?

But before I knew it, my drunken slew of compliments found their focus on Davey. "Michigan! Shit!" on repeat. "You look like an older version of my neighbor that I fuck sometimes!" on repeat. Useless, empty compliments. Repeat, repeat, repeat. Outside the club, I sat on the sidewalk smoking a cigarette. Davey sat next to me. We kissed with a brief intermission to tell him, "You know I'm just using you to take out my daddy issues, right?"

File it away with the rest of the stories. Pure gold.

The four of us went back to Bridget's, content with the situation we had just created, dipping in and out of a haze, drunk and invigorated. Ed, however, passed out within minutes of our return. This was unacceptable. The solution, according to Bridget, was to take off our shirts. "Let's wake him up with our tits." Naturally, I agreed.

"Ed, you don't want to miss this!" Josh yelled as Bridget's apartment transformed into a sloppy live version of Girls Gone Wild. But he didn't miss it. Bridget and I shoved our breasts into his sleepy face. "Orgy time!" someone joked through the haze.

Laughing, I pulled myself on top of Bridget and kissed her. I took Ed's penis into my mouth for a minute. He rolled on to the floor. Bridget rode him, while I worked on Josh. The four of us laughed the entire time. It was a giant, incestuous joke, an odd dream fueled by a 54 year old man's generosity at the bars. Josh's penis was useless--vodka limp. So the two of us stopped and watched in a daze as Bridget and Ed continued fucking.

[Inexplicable transition. Fade. Memory loss. Vodka, vodka, vodka. Memory loss. Orgy.]

Bridget and I woke up around noon, still drunk from the night before. Ed and Josh slipped out sometime in the morning, making the "orgy" even more surreal. "Shit, dude. There's still all this vodka left," Bridget said. "Want to drink it?" She was full of good ideas—of course I wanted to drink it. Don’t slip out of the dream. Eight hours later, she had another great idea, "We should hang out with Uncle Davey."

"What? Did you get his number?"

"Yeah, dude. He gave me his business card." She passed it to me. There it was. Uncle Davey the contractor. Pleasant Grove, Utah.

Uncle Davey picked Bridget and me up in his truck and drove us to his nephew's apartment. We got there at the tail end of a Super Bowl party. The only people left were a jolly plump woman, who was a friend of his nephew, and his nephew--a posterchild for steroid and tanning abuse, and the antithesis of Uncle Davey, the drunken compliment target.

"You're a fucking Guido."

"I'm not a Guido. How am I a Guido?"

"You just are. That hair. Those muscles. Pick me up and spin me around." He did.

The jolly woman slipped out, and it was apparent that the nephew/uncle duo wanted to pair off with Bridget and me. They fed us unlimited Coronas. Guido and Bridget disappeared. I sat in front of the giant plasma television. Uncle Davey pulled out a box of woody oils and rubbed them on my neck as I demanded he keep it down so we could watch reality show reruns on MTV.

"Do you like how this smells?"

"Yeah, but look. Liz is about to sing. Shh. Watch."

[Inexplicable transition. Fade. Memory loss. Corona, Corona, Corona. Memory loss. Oils.]

"You like that, huh?" Uncle Davey had his finger crammed up my asshole, his lips grazing my ass cheeks. Conscious again by a retro porn sex whirlwind. Dick choke. "Ooh. That's a good girl. You love my dick, huh?" Vag tasting. "You like it when I lick that pussy, yeah?" On my back. On all fours. Deep Oohs and Aahs and Yeahs poured from Davey's mouth. Free love, free love, free love.

Cougar hunting finally made sense. Sexual prowess is, maybe, hugely based on experience, and Uncle Davey had plenty of it.

"How many guys have you had sex with?"

"I don't know. Sex, sex? Twelve, maybe? What about you?"

"Guess."

"Twenty?"

"Higher."

"Fifty?"

"More like a hundred or so. Baby, I was a hippie in the Free Love era."

"Wow." I was mesmerized. I had fucked the personification of my newly acquired mantra. This man fucked the masses. This man dropped acid. This man knew what sex was like before anyone thought to care about STDs. This man is Free Love.

The next day I managed to crawl out of bed. Morning sex had helped, though its utility came more from its soul-stroking absurdity than from sensual pleasure. Uncle Davey’s exaggerated sex noises served as icing on the weekend cake of debauchery. “Shit, yeah! Tight fucking pussy!” This is happening. This happened. Free love. Incest and daddy issues. Roll ‘em into one weekend. Free love.

I got dressed and plopped on his nephew’s couch. Uncle Davey came out of the bathroom, freshly showered, inordinately chipper, wearing only boxers and a fedora. He turned on the television for me, changed the channel to Cartoon Network, and went to the kitchen to take supplements. "You know, the doctor tells me I have the heart of a 15 year old boy."

"Oh?"

"I take these. Here. Have some." Uncle Davey handed me two pills that I didn't bother inspecting before throwing them down my garbage disposal throat. It wasn't until their taste made permanent residence in my mouth that I decided to take a look at the bottle. Four thousand percent of my daily value of mystery vitamin. "They're good for your heart," he assured.

"Is there a bus stop around here?" The only thing the vitamins seemed to be doing was speeding up binge hangover symptoms. It was time to wade back to reality.

"I will take you home. Do you want to get lunch first, or something?"

"Can't handle lunch." Can't handle going on a date with a senior citizen, so Davey drove me home.

“So I’m not sure if my mom is home or not. So uh, if you could just, you know, maybe drop me off inconspicuously,” I requested, slouched in his truck, covered in three days worth of hedonistic grime.

“Oh, okay. How old is your mom?”

“Fifty-one. Want to date her?”

Uncle Davey drove up to the side of my house, and dropped me off with an air kiss and a wink. Scrunched leather pucker permanently ingrained in my memory. Free love, free love.