Rock In America

Note: All characters are eighteen or older. Dedicated to @nmk, my favorite Nicole.

They going out, they’re gonna put out the lights, and rock it, rock it, ROCK IT!

You Can Still, Rock In America, oh yeah, all right!

Night Ranger.

July 1985.

Southern California.

“Holy shit. Look, Erica. Night Ranger is playing tonight!”

I pointed up at the massive Six Flags marquee as I steered my 1972 Buick Riviera into the vast parking lot. Erica gave me one last tug, then slid her hand out of my gym pants when we pulled up to the ticket window. I left an arm around her, with groping fingers resting on the most delectable breasts I had ever felt in my twenty-four years. Her deep blue eyes blinked up at me. “Who?”

I sighed. Having a girlfriend six years younger made such questions common. “Night Ranger. They were huge in 1983. Nicole, have you heard of them?”

Erica’s quirky best friend twitched her nose in thought from the far-right position of my car’s front bench seat. She perked up. “Oh, my. Yes, I do, Ray. They did that song, Sister Christian, right?”

I tapped her narrow shoulders in affirmation, then returned my hand to its proper place, cupping Erica’s weighty breast. She kissed my neck in response and lilted, “I love you.”

Completely meaning it, I replied, “Love you, too.”

I found two adjacent spots in the back of the lot for my huge car and stopped astride a freshly painted line. The Riviera’s five-foot-long doors required more space than current model cars, so I frequently needed to be creative with parking.

An aroused Erica was a pleasant Erica, so I briefly made out with her, massaging her clit under a pink denim skirt. It didn’t take much to turn her on, and as she had told me months ago, “Ray, I stay horny for hours after you get me going, until you make me come.”

Nicole rolled her eyes and spoke her trademark line when Erica loudly moaned. “Oh, my! C’mon, Erica. We just got here. Aren’t we going on the rides?”

I gave my lover’s lush blonde hair a tug, then exited the car. “Sorry, Nicole. I haven’t fucked her in four days. Let’s go.”

“Oh, my!”

Both girls worked at the restaurant with me where I served as assistant manager. Covering my vacationing boss’s morning shifts meant I had not been able to have sex with Erica during or after closing hours, and our pent-up lust had filled the Buick’s cavernous interior.

As we strolled to the ticket window, I whispered, “Erica, let’s see how many times we can make Nicole say “Oh, my!”

“Stop it, Ray. Be nice.”

It was a game we occasionally played, though lanky Nicole hardly needed prompting. “Oh, my,” was usually uttered as a reaction to something that embarrassed, bothered, or surprised her, but occasionally she said it when a random thought crossed her sharp mind. I actually lasted five minutes before asking, “Hey, Nicole. You know that new employee Mitchell? He asked me if you were worth dating.”

“Oh, my! He’s got all those gross pimples, and he’s fat! Ewww!”

Erica buried her beautiful face in my upper back to conceal her amusement. Despite the warning, Erica found humor in my banter with her best friend. However, I took care not to make my somewhat possessive girlfriend jealous, as our pre-relationship flirting had involved exactly the kind of teasing I often directed towards Nicole. Though Erica’s outrageously sexy beauty outshone most other women’s, I still found Nicole attractive in her own odd way. Nicole’s mix of Chinese and Mexican gave her a pretty, if unusual appearance, and prompted a good share of mostly unwanted male attention.

I held up my palm for her to high-five. "Daaayyyyummm, Nicole! Savage!”

She nervously adjusted a thin black bra strap under her matching tank top, and daintily returned my gesture.

Why does Nicole even bother with all that padding? It hardly makes any difference...

I considered perky nipples under a tight bra-less top to be a great look for flat-chested girls like Nicole, but she didn’t go for a sexy style like Erica. To be fair, my tall blonde vixen didn’t need to actually do anything to be sexy, she just oozed sensuality.

“Oh, my! Umm, Ray? What did you tell Mitchell about me?”

Erica chimed in, “Yeah, what did you say?”

I sang, “Mitchell, let me tell you something about Nicole. She’s a Super Freak, she’s Super Freaky, Owwww”

“Oh, my!”

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