Finding A Way by T.E. Black

whatever bitch I leave with in the back seat of my pickup.
     

     
    An hour later, and two beers in, Trent and I sit at the bar talking shit with our favorite bartender Ry. Ry is actually a woman whose real name is Ryleigh. We’re at a small bar named Max’s placed in between the university and the city. It is a perfect place to find ourselves some easy targets.
    I mean, being twenty-eight and Trent being thirty works for us. These college chicks love an older man. Trent's convinced they like fucking an older man because they all wanna stick it to their rich daddies during their rebellious college years, but that's a little too fucked up for me to think about while having my cock shoved down one of their throats. So, instead, I opt for believing they wanna fuck us for our experience, and when I say experience, I mean the ability to give them multiple orgasms in one fuck. They love that shit.
    Ryleigh gives me a playful smack on the head to gain my attention.
    "You’re off ya game tonight, playboy. I just watched two blondes walk right past ya which you would’ve usually deemed fuckable. Trent ran after them about five minutes ago while ya nursed that beer of yours. What gives?"
    See, here's the thing about Ryleigh. She’s the ultimate woman. The total package. Big fake tits, short blonde hair, tight everywhere she needs to be, legs which go on forever, and an amazing personality. Top off the formula for a “ten” on the smoking hot scale with the slight Boston accent which flares up every once in a while and it's the hottest fucking thing in the entire world. Unfortunately, for all of mankind, she bats for the other team. Well, she bats for the other team currently. From what I understand, she’s down with girls and guys. She dated Trent's brother a few years back and that was the end of all our chances. That fucker sent her right into the arms of her current girlfriend, Susan. She scares the living shit out of me. The bitch is crazy. She's actually taken a swing at me once for trying to fuck Ryleigh. So, now we just keep a casual friendship.
    "You know Ry, just because I let the fucker have the two chicks over there doesn't mean I'm off my game. Did you think maybe I already used them up? Because if I rack my brain hard enough, what did they tell me to call them when the three of us were fucking in my bed...AH! I remember. I believe it was the double-mint twins."
    Ryleigh lets out a ridiculous laugh as she tries to stop staring at the women sitting on Trent's lap, making out with each other on top of him.
    "That needs to be a gawddamned drink." She continues laughing while tears vault from her eyes.
    I laugh along, shrugging my shoulders.
    "Hey, what can I say? Trent's in for a wild ride with those two crazy broads." I pick my beer up, tipping it in a hats-off motion toward her.
    "So, how's my baby doing? Did ya paint her pink for me yet?" she asks me while leaning over the bar, giving me a clear view down her less-than-there top.
    I silently accept her offer, checking out those very expensive tits, and once again they don't disappoint. They're always dying for attention, and I'm happy to give it to them from afar. I can look, but I can’t touch. That’s what Ry’s girlfriend told me after she tossed a beer in my face.
    "You gotta stop calling her yours, Ry. She's not, and she'll never be painted pink. I couldn't do that to my girl. You’d have to paint her pink over my dead body."
    She lets out a small laugh. What she's referring to is my angel, my 2000 Harley Davidson Sportster. She's the only woman I can count on and she never complains when I wanna ride her for hours on end. I took Ry on it a couple times and she fell in love with her, too. She keeps begging me to paint it pink and hand her the keys. Not fucking happening.
    "Come on, Mac. It's the least you could do. Ya made me fall in love with her, only to take her away from me. Ya can't just do that shit. It's not fucking right, and as far as the dead body