One Night With Carmen
by A Vulgar Man
Copyright© 2026 by A Vulgar Man
Fiction Sex Story: This story is a short one, takes place some forty-five years ago and is semi-autobiographical. Our hero is awaiting his friend who was going to help him celebrate his new job. His buddy never shows up but gorgeous little Carmen does and things develop from there.
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction .
It was hot.
I was sitting on the stone wall that defined the boundaries of Battery Park and overlooked Lake Champlain, celebrating with a cold beer clutched in my hand and another two six packs in the cooler in the trunk of my car. I had made it past the probationary period at my new job, and I was in like the porch-climber. I would have to screw up in a major way to get canned now.
It was only my second job; my first had lasted for five years past my graduating high school. And then they folded their tent and went quietly out of business. I had landed this job, with a huge multi-national company five months after submitting an application. It paid over fifty percent more to start than I had been making after five long years in my last job. I was working second shift and I loved it; there wasn’t a better shift to work than the three to eleven shift if you’re a single guy, you like to party and you like the 12% shift premium.
So I had reason to celebrate. I was driving my first decent car and I had money in my pocket for the first time in my life.
I took another swig of beer and looked at my watch. It was approaching one o’clock in the morning and I was waiting for my best friend to get out of work. He was already most of an hour late, and I had the feeling that I wasn’t going to be seeing him tonight. He had a new girlfriend, affectionately known as double D Debbie. I’m sure you can guess why. If she had showed up at his work, nobody was going to be seeing Rick for the rest of the night.
I sighed heavily and finished off the can of beer, crumpled it in my hand and threw it at a trashcan fifteen feet away and missed. I sighed again and got up off the wall, picked up the can and dropped it into the trash. I leaned into my convertible, thumbed open the glove box and pressed the trunk release.
The trunk lid popped up with a quiet ‘click’ and I went around to the back of the car, opened the cooler stashed within and grabbed another beer. Then I jumped about a foot and cracked my head solidly against the trunk lid as a soft voice from behind me said, “Can I have one of those? I’m pretty thirsty.”
“Jesus Christ!” I gasped. “You scared the fuckin’ shit outta me!”
She smiled at me, obviously fighting back a giggle. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
I leaned over while still looking at her and fished another beer out of the ice water they were floating in and handed it to her. She was worth looking at. She was a couple of inches short of five feet tall, a slender brunette with shoulder length hair and big brown eyes. Her nose was short and sharp and she had a nice smile that made her cheeks dimple. She had a cute figure, firm looking cupcake breasts lovingly cupped by her sweat-dampened tee shirt, a tiny waist and trim little hips. Her legs were absolutely splendid, long, well muscled and beautifully sculpted, displayed to within an inch of her tight little ass by the ragged cut-offs she was wearing. She looked like she could have been anywhere from fourteen to twenty four years old, but I didn’t ask. I fell in lust immediately.
“Thanks.” she said as she popped the tab on the beer. She tipped her head back and downed about half the can in one go, her slender throat working as she drank. I slammed the trunk shut and went back to my spot on the wall and sat down, swinging my legs up and leaning back against one of the stone pillars that dotted the wall about every twenty-five feet.
She watched me go, one eyebrow lifted in surprise. I supposed that she had been expecting a pass, and I hadn’t made one, something I’m sure that she wasn’t used to. Quite frankly, I rated my chances with her as lousy. She wasn’t a raving beauty, but she was a hot looking girl and she knew how to dress to highlight her best assets, namely those magnificent legs. The fact that it was pushing close to ninety degrees out and it was humid as hell escaped me completely. She looked great in those cut-offs, ergo she must have worn them because she knew that she looked great in them.
I fully expected her to be on her way, so I was astonished when she ambled over to the wall and sat down, parking that trim little ass next to my knees.
“So how come you’re here, drinking all by yourself?” she asked, taking another pull from her beer.
I shrugged. “I was waiting for a buddy to get out of work but he didn’t show.”
“That sucks,” she said. “What are you celebrating?”
“What makes you think I’m celebrating something?” I asked, looking at her.
She smiled again, her dimples deepening. “It a Tuesday night, this place is dead and you have a cooler full of beer. What else would you be doing?”
She was right. On the weekends, this place was usually pretty raucous, filled with cars and partying people, but tonight there was only one other car in the place, two hundred yards away at the other end of the park.
I shrugged again and told her about the new job, and then, before I was aware of it, we were talking about other things. I found out that her name was Carmen, and after about twenty minutes, she had let it slip that she was eighteen.
I didn’t really care, she hadn’t said or done anything to change my first impression of her, namely that she was out of my league. All she was doing was talking to me and drinking my beer. She polished off her beer and tossed the empty into the trash can and looked at me as I finished mine and crushed the can and made my toss, hitting the trash barrel this time.
“You want another one?” I asked.
“Sure. Beer goes down pretty good in this heat,” she replied.
“Yeah, it does,” I agreed. “Pop the glove box, hit the beer button and help yourself. I’ll take one too.” She looked surprised again. She was probably used to her date fetching and carrying for her, but I was comfortable and didn’t feel like moving. Besides, it was my beer and she was getting one just for the effort of getting it from the car, parked ten feet away. If she wanted a beer, I’d give her one but she’d damn well have to go and get it herself.
She got up and walked to the car, perfectly aware, I’m sure, of my eyes on her gently swaying ass. I heard her laugh as she opened the glove box. Taped to the inside of the glove box door was a picture of a long neck beer bottle, pointing to the remote trunk release. The ‘Beer Button’. I smiled as she laughed; she had a good laugh, one that came from her belly, rich and earthy and not the phony, lady-like little chuckle that most girls called a laugh and that I had halfway expected from her.
She was still smiling as she came back with the beers. “That’s pretty good,” she said.
“It saves a lot of explaining,” I said. She nodded and sat in the same place, and we talked some more. Two beers later, some where around two-thirty in the morning, what little breeze there had been died, and it felt like the temperature jumped about ten degrees. It was sweltering out and I began to sweat despite the icy cold beer.
The conversation sort of drifted to a stop and we sat there, drinking our beers and looking out over the lake, waiting for the breeze to start up again.
“Fuck this,” I said a few minutes later. “It’s too fuckin’ hot out to just sit here and bake. I’m gonna split.”
“You going home?” Carmen asked, and I was surprised to see that she looked disappointed.
“Naw,” I said. “I think I’m gonna go out to the bay and take a swim.” I sat up and she stood, moving out of the way as I swung my feet to the ground.
I stood up as she said, “That sounds nice. Can I go with you?”
“What?” I asked, looking at her, not sure that I’d heard her right.
“I said that sounds nice. Can I go with you?” She was trying to be cool about it but I could see that she was a little taken aback by evident disinterest in her. So was I, for that matter.
“Yeah, I guess...” I caught her eyes with mine. “Just so you’ll know, I plan to skinny-dip. I don’t have a bathing suit with me and I hate swimming in cut-offs.”
She grinned at me. “It don’t bother me if it don’t bother you. I’ve seen a naked man before.”
“Uh huh,” I said, “I’m sure you have.”
We walked to the car and got in. “Finish the beer and ditch the can,” I told her. “The last thing I need is to get pulled over by a cop ‘cause he saw one of us drinking a beer.”
We both drained our cans and winged them at the trashcan. I scored, but hers bounced off the rim and clattered away into the dark. I keyed the ignition and slotted some J. Geils into the cassette player, cranked it up as his raunchy ‘Give It To Me’ started playing and we took off.
It was a twenty minute drive out to the bay, to a private beach that was famously known as ‘Bare-ass Beach because of all the skinny-dipping that took place there at night in the summer. It was owned by a restaurant and shielded from the road by the building, and if you parked your car at night in the marina parking lot next door and kept the noise down, nobody bothered you.
I parked the car under a tree in deep shadow, dug a couple of beach towels and a blanket out of the trunk, replaced them with my cassettes and locked it up. I looked at Carmen and she grinned at me, kind of nervously, I thought, and we walked across the road and onto the beach. I dropped the towels and swiftly spread the blanket on the still sun-warm sand, watching her as she walked down to the water and tested its temperature with her foot.
“God!” she said. “It feels like bath water!”
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