Chapter Seven - The Tequila
Hell week, like Caroline’s make-up, faded into memory without much incident from the campers. (Well, apart from the small inconveniences of the recently drilled holes into the girls’ showers for the boys’ viewing pleasure, and the moved outdoor speaker from the tree to below Bingley’s bed for morning Reveille.) No one seemed to comment on “the sixes” usage of Caroline’s lip-plumping balm, which resulted in an allergic reaction causing them to walk around for two days with lips like Bratz dolls on steroids. Even Billy Collins escaped the torment of the teenagers—with the exception of the carefully forged love letter to him from Anne that they slipped below his pillow in the middle of the night.
Things, however, were noticeably escalating between the boys’ and girls’ camps on the athletic field. The competition stats, particularly between Pemberley and Longbourn, were close as the girls struggled to stay neck and neck with the boys in each relay, heat, and game. Of course, their respective counselors egged on the extreme competitive behavior. Then there was the issue of Wickham and his Lambton boys’ lead in the combined stats—no doubt due to underhanded tactics. It infuriated Darcy that the looser would beat him.
As for all the other counselors, things were heating up between them in every possible way both on and off the playing field.
Charlotte and Rick conducted secret rendezvous at three a.m. every morning—grunting and grinding in the forest like rutting bulls, scaring sleeping birds resting in their cozy nests. Both lovers would return with leaves and dirt clinging to hair and clothing as their children lay sleeping in the cabins snoring away unaware that their counselor was a sex goddess (according to Rick.)
Billy, after having received the forged love letter from Anne, stepped up his game by excusing himself from lunch every day to pick wildflowers from the field beside the camp. Like clockwork, he’d set them in her cabin with an anonymous love letter signed, “With Love, Big Daddy.” But Anne chased Charlie-boo at every turn, thinking he the sender of the flowers. Whenever he walked past her, she pinched his butt and even went so far as to drill a hole in Netherfield’s shower for her own personal enjoyment. Every night she waited in the bushes for his trim, naked physique to make its appearance under the heated water.
It didn’t take Charlie and Jane long to embark on their long-desired, much-soughtafter summer romance following the sun block, pussification poolside episode. They quickly began sneaking away at every opportunity for a little lip lock behind the shed, in the kitchen, under the porch, in a tree, and were frequently spotted near the laundry room. This was done, they thought, with the utmost secrecy because if either Darcy or Lizzy found out, there would be hell to pay since both Charlie and Jane had sworn to destroy the other.
And what can be said of Caroline’s efforts, ingenious as they were? With her hellions working overtime, although smelling like pigs in a sty, she still made no headway. It was quite unexpected when she mistakenly found herself naked in Wickham’s bed in Lambton rather than Darcy’s in Pemberley. If not for the fact that G-Train gave her the ride of her life, she would have been sorely embarrassed, but as it was his caboose was fully loaded that day with cocaine and Viagra. Even she was satisfied by his fueled up erection and forced herself to overlook the fact that Wickham wasn’t her intended conductor.
Poor John, although reveling in Darcy’s total and complete failure where Lizzy was concerned, he unfortunately could not rejoice in his own success. Try as he might, strutting before her in his Speedos by the pool just didn’t seem to produce the desired reaction. His subtle comments about how great they were together in bed and how stimulating their conversations had always been, failed to stimulate her interest. It was a shame that he had no clue what magic an additional three inches and a monogamous libido could have had on a girl.
Now … as for the counselors of Pemberley and Longbourn, Lizzy fought Darcy tooth and nail on everything. Such as when the two cabins went on a hiking excursion together the day before. He’d say go left, and she’d defiantly go right. He would try to help her over the rocky terrain, but she would ignore his effort. He’d encourage the kids onward another mile, and she’d demand a series of organized water and rest breaks. Having temporarily put aside their antics on the lake and in the cafeteria, for the sake of the teenagers, their amicability was displayed on the surface through fake smiles as the tempestuous storm brewed within both of their strong-willed, controlling, competitive personalities.
Lizzy completely resented his need to play Tarzan and protect her—along with his attempt to tell her what he thought best. Therefore, she continually misinterpreted his actions as controlling and sexist. Darcy, on the other hand, truly wanted to assist her and thought her obstinacy as willful misinterpretation and intentional warfare.
At every turn, it was a competition of mind, spirit, and dominance in sport, ability, and mental acuity. Nothing was un-debatable or went unchallenged between the two, and once politics entered the fray, it was seemingly all over as they sat on opposite sides of a picnic table purposefully misrepresenting themselves.
She pretended to be a card-carrying liberal Democrat, and he pretended to be a staunch, conservative Republican. They fought over their views of the nanny-state, socialized medicine, and the discontinuation of incandescent light bulbs. She’d gesticulate wildly then slam her hand upon the table to make her pretended point, and he would sit before here with his arms folded, smirking, and arguing, “You paid $30,000 a year at Drexel to be taught that Socialist crap?”
Truth be told, these two thrived on the power struggle and found their competition on and off the game field highly titillating. Both would be completely surprised to know that the other was exaggerating their opinions in almost everything—for the sole purpose of getting a rise out of the other. They were alike on more fronts than they realized, whether it be mentally, educationally, politically, and emotionally—not to mention, sexually.
There was always that undercurrent of immense sexual attraction between the two, which oftentimes had a physical need to silence the other with another scorching wet kiss. Of course that never happened, the memory of the liplock in the pool burned within them. Taunting them.
As nature deemed, momentary lapses from their regressive insanity occurred on occasion. Such as the time when Lizzy deliberately walked into the boys’ campus in order to secretly catch a glimpse of Darcy. And his breaking into Longbourn’s cabin with the boys for a panty raid only to find himself stealing a pair of her black, lacy boy shorts. Of course, there was that time when he deliberately brushed up against her in the swimming pool “accidentally”’ copping a feel of her beautiful pear-shaped backside. Hours later, she responded by “accidentally” tripping, deliberately falling into his muscular arms, just to squeeze his bicep. So you see, they weren’t as quite immune to each other’s deadly “ammunition” as they claimed. Both were falling and resisting equally as hard as the other.
It was on this fateful night that Lizzy had to acknowledge to herself that she, indeed, was hot for Will Darcy: egotistical, controlling, and sexist as he was. And that was thanks to Jose, her on-again, off-again tequila buddy.
The scene was something akin to the Meatballs movie: Midnight and the campfire within the pit roared, illuminating the blackness with flames of orange and yellow. The bottle of tequila had made its nightly appearance, its glowing yellow liquid making the rounds between all the counselors. It was evident from the drunken countenances and free flowing touches that almost everyone was having a good time.
The worm was long gone by the time Lizzy realized that Jane was a traitor, not for being the one to suck it down, but simply because her lips had been firmly adhered to Charlie’s as though Velcro for the past hour. “Janie, get your lips off him!”
Jane kept kissing and she and Charlie moaned, oblivious to Lizzy as she huffed at the defection of her one true ally.
The bottle passed to Anne who suddenly found Billy’s attentions quite intriguing, especially when she glanced down at the package in his too-tight blue jeans. She wondered if the tequila was warping her mind, causing her eyesight to become askew. That thing was huge. Finally finding the impetus to put aside her long-held desire to sleep with Charlie-boo, her hairy-knuckled hands pleasured in running along the seam of Billy’s pants.
Darcy watched the interaction between his cousin and Billy and chuckled. It wasn’t like he concurred with Charlie’s long-held description of Anne, but she was, in fact, not an attractive woman by any stretch of the imagination, and her mustache was rather off putting. But this night, in his alcohol-infused mind, he did imagine a chubby, hobbit slash hairy dwarf sucking face with a greasy, skinny, short, Amish dork and the visual did him in and he sat laughing aloud, cackling, actually.
Charlotte and Rick were too far gone to be of any useful conversation. She lounged between Captain America’s rock hard thighs, his strong arms surrounding her in a caccoon. Words breached their quiet interchange, something along the lines of “powerful diesel engine.”
Darcy, for all his humor did find himself in the midst of fighting off a drunken Caroline, though.
“Willy, dahling ... Isn’t this romantic?” she asked holding on to his arm, attempting to place her cheek on his shoulder.
“Off Caroline ... Off!” he commanded.
She pouted, pushing out her Sharpie-red, bottom lip.
Those lips had been a studied fascination of Lizzy’s for most of the night. Even in the firelight, they were huge and shiny. She couldn’t determine if the remaining marker was deliberate or not. She drunkenly giggled behind her hand at Darcy’s annoyance toward the woman.
Mr. Soulful Eyes, turned to her, narrowing them with evil intent.
“Lizzy, do you want to go for a walk?” John asked not liking that Darcy had diverted his attention from Caroline to Lizzy.
“No Johnny, I’m perfectly happy here with Jose.” She raised the bottle to him then took a swig before speaking again. “Say Billy, do you remember when we were kids and you’d hold my hand everywhere we went?”
“Ah … no … I cannot say that I do.” Confused, he shook his head. He didn’t know that Lizzy was from Intercourse, Pennsylvania in the heart of Amish country in Lancaster County. His old ways, plain mutter would never have allowed him to play with an English.
“Did you live in Bird-In-Hand or Climax?” He asked. “Perhaps, I met you when I went with mutter to buy Whoopie Pies in Blue Ball.”
“Oh come on, surely you remember our first kiss?” She took another swig from the bottle.
Darcy smiled wryly, amused and knowing that it was him she spoke about, not Billy the Geek. He recalled that first kiss and snorted aloud, enjoying how Lizzy was so mistaken.
“You kissed Lizzy?” Anne asked, aghast.
“No dearest, I never kissed her. Before this summer, I have never seen her before in my life!”
“Don’t you remember, Billy, when I was six I told you that you were the only boy for me when we played in the creek chasing frogs?” She hiccupped.
“I … I … played with you in a stream? Were we naked?” His eyes grew wide as though he imagined them playing as adults.
“No silly, that was when we played doctor when I was eight!”
Caroline clucked her tongue disapprovingly. “Isn’t she uncouth, Willy dahling? Running through the forest like an uncivilized heathen.”
Truth be told, he actually liked the visual of a naked, adult Lizzy running through the forest. “Oh, I don’t know, that could be quite stimulating I imagine.”
John grabbed the bottle from Lizzy. “Lizzy I thought I had been your only childhood boyfriend?! You told me I was your first kiss. You were naked with him, and at eight no less!”
And so it went with John vying for Lizzy’s attention and Billy trying to avoid it, and Darcy laughing at it all at her expense.
He watched the interplay with acute fascination, thinking he really should intercede and save her from herself, drunk as she was, drunk as he was. Like a scene from a movie, a mini-Darcy devil stood on one shoulder and an angel perched on his other. He glanced to the right and saw that sweet little haloed Darcy with wings dressed in a white gown and tights, dimples smiling back at him. “Go ahead, the poor dear is so drunk, she’s going to make a fool out of herself. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do, William. Save her.”
He looked to his left and there he sat all hot and red, shooting flames the color of Caroline’s hair from his horns. The little devil held a pitchfork, poking at his shoulder, “Yo! Man up, drag her butt away and screw her senseless.” Darcy shook his head vehemently to his little red antagonist.
Then he heard that good boy voice from his right, “That’s right, William, do the honorable thing, rescue her from this nightmare. For goodness sake, you have known her since she was a little girl. Help her … Help her.” The tiny angel put his hands together as though in prayer.
The flames on little satan grew. “Screw you white boy, you little fairy. Stop trying to make my man Darcy all wholesome and pure.”
Darcy’s head switched from left to right to back to the devil. “Listen to me buddy, would I steer you wrong? I can hook you up and take care of that itch the Big D has. Stick with me kid and those tatas will—”
“Stop it! Don’t listen to him, William. Having sex with someone under the influence of tequila is not—”
“Jose’s my friend … I can hook you and Big D up! Get you a little action.”
Darcy’s head kept switching back and forth at the exchange between angel and devil when finally, breaking free from his nightmare, he swooped in to save Lizzy from making an utter fool out of herself. He took her by the arm, pulled her up and tugged her drunken self into the forest, heading toward the lake. Both swayed and walked in zigzag patterns through the trees.
Lizzy resisted, dragging her feet, pulling back from him to no avail. “Where are you taking me? You’re drunk! Get your hands off me! Think you can boss me around! Sexist fool!”
“Stop talking, you damned Gorgon!”
They arrived at the edge of the dock, the moonlight streaming down upon them as they faced off. They were at an impasse and Lizzy was in no mood for more words, avoidance, or arguing. The honest true was that she wanted him. Standing before him with a naughty smirk, she unabashedly shed her clothes down to hot pink panties.
Darcy’s inebriated mind went numb at the bared breasts staring back at him. Before his hands had the opportunity to catch up to his brain, she was gone, diving into the lake. In awe and slack mouthed, he barely had enough mental acuity to worry about her swimming alone in the lake in the dark. Suddenly, panic set in. He couldn’t let her swim alone. Something might happen. He should assist her. Of course he should.
“Help her … save her. William.” Angel Darcy repeated.
“And take off your clothes … you don’t want to get them wet, Dude.” Devil Angel with a smirk.
Lizzy goaded him from the dark water. “Don’t be a chicken, Darcy. Join me.”
Shit … she didn’t need to invite him twice. He responded like superman, divesting his clothes in seconds before diving in naked behind her. His impressive Big D was already ready for action like an unsheathed sword leading the way into battle.
Angel Darcy winked at Devil Darcy, both smiled then high-fived the other.“Good work, buddy,” they said at the same time.
Lizzy swam over to him, splashing at his head in her nervousness.
***SEXY TIMES AHEAD***
He wasted no time trapping her in his embrace, holding her to him as he tread water. She could feel his hardness against her, poking and rubbing against her heat each time his legs bent to stay afloat. She ate her accusations from days earlier. This gorgeous man was way more than three inches.
“Well Darcy, it seems we’ve come to temporary peace accord.”
“Are you sure you want it to be only temporary?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and moved in to kiss him. His hands cupped her bottom, which fit so nicely in his palms. He moaned under her lips’ tender assault, surprising him that anything sweet could come from that wise-ass mouth.
Her hand traveled down his taut muscular body, surrounding his arousal. “Impressive. Had I known you were packing this amount of heat I would have jumped your bones a long time ago, but you probably know how magnificent you are, you being an arrogant ass and all.”
“Shut up and kiss me again.” He silenced her with a scorching kiss, his tongue explored hers, tasting the sweet Cuervo on her lips. He moved to shallower ground to stand on the lake bottom.
Eager hands cupped her full breasts, squeezing and flicking swollen nipples. Her reply was a deep moan as she wrapped around his waist, holding onto him.
“I want you, Lizzy,” he murmured, nuzzling and kissing her neck, a hand gliding down her waist to divest her of her panties.
“No,” she panted. Her undergarment floated away in the ripples their bodies made. Her words contradicted her caresses, her eager grip on him.
“What do you mean? No I can’t make love to you?”
His index finger teased her folds, gently dipping into her tight heat. She purred, “Yes. Maybe.”
The look on his face was perplexed and near pleading. He leaned back, searching her eyes. “Are you teasing me?”
It was turning out to be a reenactment of Meatloaf’s song, “Paradise by the Dashboard Light,” and Darcy was prepared to beg. What’s it gonna be yes or no?
Her mind was hazy, and she closed her eyes, giving into the feel of his fingers and mouth. “Do you have a condom on you?”
“No, I could pull out.” He nearly begged, his finger tickling her deeply.
Lizzy leaned back into the water, giving in to the ecstasy his touch was causing. “No … intercourse. Oh, Yessss, Darcy ...
His head snapped up in encouragement and anticipation. “Yes? You’ll let me shag you?”
“No shag. Yes that your finger and lips feels like heaven. Oh, God don’t stop.”
She was experiencing paradise because Darcy knew every perfect spot to touch. Her hand dipped below the surface of the water to stroke his pulsating shaft. He was larger than any man she’d ever been with … all two of them.
“Lizzy you’re killing me, I want you. I need you, and I know you need me,” he breathed, his mouth descended to her taut nipple.
“No … There’s another way … Oh! Oh! Yesss …”
Her vice grip around his arousal expertly enflamed him. He stood in the water rock hard, moaning and ready to explode as his own hands and tongue worked magic on her, reveling in his ability to pleasure her. This woman drove him made with desire and all he wanted to do, drunk or not, was make love too her—eternally.
Lizzy was over the top with sensations as her mind swirled and spun in heady intoxication. One minute her body felt cooled by the lake water and now it burned. The water seeming to boil around her by the heat of his touch and the scalding feel of him in her hand. She wondered if it was the tequila or something else, something more than hot sex with this sea god. With each delicate nibble of his teeth on her swollen peak, her body responded immediately sending lighting to her womanhood. She was exactly four seconds away from throwing all caution to the wind and ordering him to screw her madly, when he whispered, “Come for me, baby,” in the moonlight as his finger reached that sensitive place deep within her. The man was talented and she couldn’t help writhing.
Lizzy moaned, her hand pumping him faster below the water. The mere image of her beautiful face kissed by the signs of rapture was going to make him explode. She was perfect when she was naked and the only things coming out of her mouth were purrs and cries of ecstasy in approval of him.
Her passionate exclamations escalated, but he silenced them with his mouth. She shuddered, coming apart from his masterful fingers.
As far as she could remember, it was the best damn orgasm she had ever had, and for a wisp of a mille-second, as her heart furiously hammered, she considered that she could get used to this—with him—always.
Trembling, she wrapped her legs around his waist and rose from her recline.
“It was me,” he said nervously in response to the tender kisses she deposited to his neck.
She kept kissing, “What was you?”
“I was the little boy who kissed you. The one that you said you’d always love. Of course you were only six at the time, but you called me your boyfriend.” His hand smoothed over her backside naively beliving that what they had experienced just now and long ago would make a difference in their love/hate relationship.
Their eyes locked as he declared to her astonished expression, “We’d fly kites in the south field and you followed me wherever I went.”
He could see her mind working and expected a smart-ass remark to flow from her lips when her mouth opened. An immediate kiss stopped whatever was going to come out.
Taking his hand in hers, she dropped her legs then led him to the shoreline. He was still rock hard and in need of obvious satiation when she knelt in the water before him. That first lick—first touch of her tongue to his throbbing tip almost caused him to burst. He moaned into the midnight air. The feel of her lips surrounding him was his undoing and he groaned louder in delight, placing both hands behind her head, guiding more of himself into her willing mouth. With every wet glide of her mouth, her deep, throaty moan matched his. She was clearly savoring the taste of him, eagelry taking more of him.
“Mmm … Mmm,” she purred when her tongue circled his shaft, thinking to herself, Mr. Scrumdillyumptious … yummy … Mr. Goodbar, Mr. Good & Plenty. She loved candy, especially hard candy.
For Darcy, this was like something from an erotic dream, and he hoped he’d remember it through the morning haze of the hangover that was sure to come. He’d never imagined to be standing in a lake, under the stars in the middle of the night with this perfect-bodied, naked, goddess of the sea who was sucking him like it was her favorite candy. This was like no dream he’d ever had before. It took every ounce of restraint not to shout out in ecstasy every time she licked him like an ice cream cone.
When her hand cradled Big D’s “boys”, he was a gonner. It was over. “God Lizzy … Yessss ... Baby ... Yessss!” he shouted, shuddering in blinding, white drunken heat.
Yes, Jose was Darcy’s best friend on that night, and Lizzy was his own personal Linda Lovelace.
His legs felt weak, but he helped her up. The kiss he gave her was deep and tender and he thread his fingers with hers. He guided her back into the refreshing water, not wanting the night to end. Both were momentarily satiated and completely inebriated as they let their emotional guard down.
“Was it really you, Darcy?” she asked, laying on her back supported by his arms.
“It was. Do you remember how we used to catch fireflies in a jar that my dad gave us?”
“I’m not sure. That’s sort of fuzzy. Did you used to hold my hand?”
“I did. Wherever we went.”
“Such a gentleman at that young age, always looking out for me.”
“I still like to do that.”
“Hmmm … I guess Georgiana wasn’t born then, huh?”
“No, she came years later. … Lizzy?”
“Are you in love with John?”
She snorted, “No way! What’s three inches compared to ...” She reached down, groping him.
“Be serious for a second. I need to know what happened between you two before this develops further between you and me.”
“So you’re planning on playing nice with me for the rest of the summer?”
He kissed her smiling lips.
“Absolutely, and who said only for the summer.”
“Well, Johnny cheated on me more times than I care to count and I had finally decided to confront him. Now stop. You’re bringing down my feel good.”
“One more question.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Do you always have to fight with me?”
“No Darcy, you just bring out the worst in me when you push my buttons.”
She rose from the water and wrapped herself in his welcoming arms. His hard, slick body felt so good against her. They fit perfectly, and it didn’t go unnoticed by her, embedding in the recesses of her mind, that it felt right. “No Will, you brought out the best of me tonight.”
And the usage of his first name didn’t go unnoticed by him. She kissed him slowly saying so much with that one kiss that he wished he was sober enough to get to the bottom of its meaning.
“Shall we do this again if I find us a condom?” he asked.
“Oh, I’m counting on it now that you’ve shown that your mouth could be put to so much better use than arguing with me all the time,” she said before yawning.
Her eyes started to close and his skin started to wrinkle from the cool water calling them from the murky depths of Lake Tittycocka. Lizzy’s panties were long gone as they dressed and Darcy admired her, lost in her smile. He stood fully erect again, ready for another go until she bent down and handed him his shorts.
“Lizzy, while you’re down there …” he said waggling his eyebrows. He wanted more of those ruby reds, having finally found the true purpose for her lips besides mouthing off to him with backtalk.
She raised an eyebrow. “Something wrong with your eyes, Darcy?”
His hopes quickly dashed.
“Save it for another day--when I need a sugar fix. Now walk me back to Longbourn before I pass out.”
What's it gonna be? Yes or No?
Progress? Or do we think morning after regrets?