Monkey Business -11- by Melanie Brown

Monkey Business Part 11

By

Melanie Brown
Copyright © 2023

“Do you like that boy?” asked Mom after we entered the house.

Dad looked up from the TV, and before I could answer Mom, he asked, “Boy? What boy?”

Mom said, “Randi met a boy at the picnic.”

Dad shook his head. “Doesn’t surprise me. Randy goes out of his way to humiliate me.”

I walked over to Dad and raised my voice. “I’m not trying to humiliate you. You do a good job of that yourself. I’m just being me!”

Dad stood up and shouted, “Don’t raise your voice to me! Does this boy you met know you’re not a girl?”

I shuffled my feet. “No.”

“Son, you really need to stop fooling these boys,” said Dad seriously. “Most aren’t going to like it to find out the girl they were kissing is really a boy.”

I sat on the couch. “I like being treated like a girl. It’s fun.”

Dad frowned. “Getting beat up won’t be fun.”

The phone rang. Dad scowled at the phone. “Who’d call at this hour?”

Mom picked up the phone. “Hello? You know this is kinda late, don’t you? Yes, Randi is standing right here. And please, try not to call this late again.” Mom handed the phone receiver to me. “It’s some boy.”

I gave it a curious look before putting it against my ear. “Hello?”

Over the phone, I heard, “Hey babe. It’s me, Carson. Sorry for the late hour.”

Smiling at the phone, I said, “That’s okay. What’s up?”

Carson said, “We’re going back home Tuesday morning. Would you be interested in going out to a movie or something tomorrow night?”

I shrugged. “I’ll have to ask my Mom if it’s okay.” I pulled the phone receiver away from my face and looked expectantly at Mom. “Mom, is it okay if I go on a date tomorrow night?” I sighed. As a boy, if I was asking a girl out, I doubt I’d ask Mom for permission.

Folding her arms, Mom asked, “Is this that same boy?” I nodded. “You must be back home by ten thirty.”

I put the receiver back against my ear and grinned. “Yes. As long as I’m back home at ten thirty.”

Carson said, “That cuts back on how long our orgy can be.”

I narrowed my eyes, “Our what?”

Carson chucked. “I was joking. Want to see that new Nathan Adams move He Who Laughs Last?”

“Oh yeah! I wanted to see that,” I said.

Carson said, “Cool. I’ll pick you up at six so we can get something to eat tat the Cineplex before the movie.”

I said, “Sounds cool. I’ll see you at six then.” We disconnected.

Dad looked at me with disgust. “So, you have a date with a boy tomorrow night? You’re going to do it anyway, so no point in trying to stop you. Be careful. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I’ll be okay, Dad,” I said. “Carson is a nice boy.”

Dad frowned gain. “They all are at first. Now get to bed.”

*  *  *

I was beside myself all afternoon, waiting for six o’clock to come around. I selected one of the outfits I got to keep from modeling, and Mom helped me with my make-up. She took me to the salon to get my hair styled.

Dad was at work, of course, but he had phoned Mom to let her know he was going to be late coming home. Mom guessed he just didn’t want to see me getting ready for my date.

I stood in front of the mirror, staring at the pretty girl looking back at me. To look like a girl does take more work. The thing is, boys always react to me as a girl, even if I’m not trying. I’m convinced I should have been a girl.

I pranced back out into the living room one more time before Carson was expected to arrive.

“How do I look?” I asked Mom.

Mom smiled. “You look beautiful, honey. Just be careful keeping everything tucked away.”

I frowned. “I don’t think that’ll be an issue, Mom. I’m not exactly well endowed in that area anyway. Please don’t be like Dad.”

Mom said, “I want you to have a good time, honey. But you need to be careful.”

I nodded. “I understand, Mom. But I really want to know what it’s like to go out on a date with a boy as a girl. Carson leaves town tomorrow, so there’s no danger of a long-term relationship.”

Shaking her head, Mom said, “Just be careful. I’m sure this boy just wants a date with a beautiful girl, and who can blame him? Just remember the word ‘no’ should he try to take things too far.”

“I know, Mom. I know,” I said. “Carson isn’t likely to leave me alone in some dive like Colin did.”

The doorbell rang.

Mom smirked at me. “Speak of the devil.”

It wasn’t necessary, but I smoothed the front of my skirt. “Do I look okay?”

Shaking her head, Mom said, “You’re beautiful. Just relax.”

I couldn’t see him, but I heard Carson say after Mom opened the door, “Hi. I’m here to pick up Randi. Is she ready?”

Mom smiled and stepped aside. “I think she’s ready.”

Carson removed his baseball cap and his eyes were transfixed on me.

I smiled and said, “Hey, Carson.”

Collecting his senses, Carson grinned and asked, “Are you ready to go?”

I took a couple steps towards him. “I’m ready!”

He took my hand and turned towards the door.

Mom said, “Have a good time. And remember, she needs to be home by ten thirty.”

Carson nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll have her back safe and sound.” He then started to pull me through the front door.

With my free hand, I waved to Mom. “Bye, Mom!”

Carson led me to a silver minivan. I giggled and said, “Nice mom-mobile.”

Looking embarrassed, Carson said, “Yeah, well, my actual car is a Mustang, but that’s back at home. I had to borrow the family wagon for tonight.”

I laughed. “I’m just teasing.”

As he opened the passenger door for me, he said, “Actually, the V-6 in this thing does pack a pretty good punch.”

“I said I was teasing,” I said. “It’s more comfortable than my pickup.”

He looked over at me. “Now, if I can remember how to get to the Cineplex.” He gave me a wink.

As he drove through the streets, I had kinda hoped we’d go to a real restaurant for dinner instead of the Cineplex. But for a first date and most likely only date, a burger or pizza was probably okay.

As I slid out of my seat in the parking lot after Carson had found a good place to park, I couldn’t help but notice that the car we were next to was Colin’s. I hope he doesn’t make a fuss over Carson. Despite leaving me out to dry atThe Dew Drop Inn he actually thinks I’m his. I know he means well, but he’s like a big-eared puppy who keeps tripping over his own ears, despite that he’s not a puppy and doesn’t have long ears.

We walked up to a ticket kiosk, and Carson started punching buttons. “There we go. Two seats in the middle down towards the front.”

I looked around the crowded theater and said, “Being a Monday, I hope it’s not too crowded.”

“Back home, it’s always crowded,” Carson said with a shrug. Pointing, he said, “Let’s sit over here. We have an hour to kill.” He indicated a table near several video games.

After we sat down, Carson started poking at the small kiosk on the table for ordering food. He asked, “Do you want pizza or some chicken strips?”

I said, “Let’s try the chicken. I get pizza a lot here.”

“Chicken it is.”

Carson leaned back and stared at me for a few moments. “So tell me. How did such a beautiful girl as you get into racing motorcycles?”

I looked down at my hands, embarrassed at being called beautiful. I shrugged. “On weekends, my dad and I would go dirt riding in the local caliche pit. The hills would change almost every week with their digging. Or we’d rent a cabin in New Mexico and ride in the mountains. And that was a lot of fun. Well, until that time, I got chased by a bear. No really. Then, at the caliche pit, I tried to climb a vertical wall like I’d seen the motocrossers do. I flipped over backward and hurt my leg.”

Carson’s eyes widened. “Oh wow. You didn’t get seriously hurt, did you?”

I shook my head. “Not much. I twisted my knee and had to wear a brace for a while. But sadly, Dad decided that was it. No more motorsports for me. I begged and begged, but he sold my dirt bike.”

Shaking his head, Carson said, “That seems a bit severe. I mean, accidents happen. You learn and keep going.”

I sighed. “Dad thought I was too delicate.”

An employee brought our tray of chicken strips and set them down.

After a pause, Carson asked, “So. How did you get into racing?”

I grinned slightly. “Well, Dad still liked watching motorcycle races. There’s a big motocross track here. Anyway, I wandered around a bit and found a smaller track. It was set up for BMX racing. I had a bicycle and I asked Dad if the next week, I could try BMX. Surprisingly, he said yes.”

Taking a bit of a chicken strip, Carson asked, “Were there any other girls racing BMX?” I didn’t catch the word ‘other’ at first. At that time, I was just being a boy, though a lot of people at the track did confuse me for a girl.

Answering his question, I said, “No. It was all boys racing.” I took a bite of chicken and then said, “So next weekend, there I was. I’d spent the week getting my bike ready for racing.”

Grinning, Carson asked, “Did you win?”

I grunted a laugh. “Not hardly. Going into the first turn, there was a big crash. My handle bars caught somehow on another bike and I got flipped into the mess of bikes. I managed to break my arm. And Dad said no more. Despite my begging, I was forbidden to do any racing.”

Shaking his head, Carson said, “Wow. Maybe racing just isn’t your thing.”

“But I still wanted to!” I exclaimed. “My friend Nick asked if I’d like to help him in the pit area whenever he raced. As long as I didn’t race, Dad didn’t have a problem. At the time, Nick just raced motocross. Then one day when I showed up at Nick’s house to go to the track, he’d added a sidecar to his bike. He wanted to try sidehack racing, but he needed a second person, called a monkey, to ride with him. His girlfriend had left him and left her a full set of pink leathers that fit me perfectly. So I volunteered.”

“Didn’t that violate your Dad’s orders to not race?”

I chuckled. “Well, I figured since I technically wasn’t the one racing, Nick was, it’d be okay. And he never knew until the crash that almost killed me.”

Carson’s eyes went wide. “Holy shit, girl! You’re a wild woman! How did you ever get back to racing?”

I chuckled. “I cried a lot.”

Carson started to say something, but then the status board caught his eye. “We should probably get in the snack line now.” Between the two of us, we’d finished the chicken strips.

*  *  *

A few minutes into the movie, Carson slid his arm along my shoulder. I was expecting it, so I didn’t really mind. In fact, I liked cuddling up to him. He pulled me to him.

The movie started with non-stop action loaded with car and motorcycle chases. When the action slowed down, I looked up to see Carson looking down at me. He bent his head lower and kissed me. I moaned. I loved every second of his soft, warm lips pressing into mine. No denying I love kissing boys. He started to slide his fingers up my skirt. I had to pull his hand away. He tried again, and this time, I pulled away from him.

“What’s wrong, babe? I thought you wanted this?” he whispered. He tried again.

I pulled his hand away. I whispered, “Please. I don’t want to be touched there.” I felt tears well up. Dammit I thought, everything was perfect. Kissing him was heaven, and now this.

Carson snarled, “What’s wrong with you, bitch?” He suddenly unzipped his pants and pulled my hand inside. “I don’t care if you touch mine! Let me touch yours!!” Oh my God! I had my hand on Carson’s thing. He was hard with sticky goo coming out. Feeling revolted, I pulled my hand quickly back and jump up out of my seat.

I growled, “Take me home. Now!”

Someone in the theater shouted, “Shut up back there!”

Carson stood up and grabbed my hand. “Sit down, bitch! The movie’s not over!”

Angry and shaking, I said, “If I have to call my dad, you are not going to like it.”

He stood there a moment and glared at me. And then he snapped, “Fine. Let’s go.”

As we walked out of the theater, there was a ripple of applause.

When I got in the passenger seat, I slammed the door and folded my arms. I just sat there and shook.

As Carson climbed into the driver’s seat, he said, “Come on, babe. What’s wrong?”

I gave him a cold glance. “I asked you to stop, and you didn’t.”

Carson chuckled. “Hey. When girls say stop, they really mean don’t stop.”

I said in a low voice. “Take me home.”

Shaking his head, Carson groaned, “Okay.”

After several minutes of driving, he pulled his van up in front of my house. I opened the door and jumped out.

“No good night kiss?”

I ran into my house. Mom and Dad looked up from the TV. Mom started to say something when I threw my arms around her, crying.

As she returned the hug, she asked, “What’s wrong, honey?”

Sobbing, I said, “Oh Mom, it was awful. Why are boys like this? He… he tried to put his hand up my skirt, and then he forced my hand on his thing. I got some of him on my fingers. We were kissing, and it was great, and then he kept trying to touch me!”

Mom held me tight. “Oh, honey! I’m so sorry.”

I stood up, wiping my nose. “I’m so done with boys.”

Dad put his arm around me. “It’s about time.”

End of Part 11