Abstract Circles

"Your dad at home now?" I asked as I chewed the last bite of hot dog.

The news of Lisa May's pregnancy had jolted me out of my pleasant little buzz. Now, stone cold sober, I didn't think Lisa May should have to be alone when she told her father he was going to be a grandfather.

"Yeah, I guess," Lisa May shrugged. "Why?"

"Because we're going tell him about your little uh, problem," I said.

The Barrett home was a simple beige brick home among other simple little brick homes. A quick look around the neighborhood told me which homes had been expanded; they were brick and vinyl siding structures, with no carports.

"Shit; he's home," Lisa May groaned, seeing her father's Toyota Corolla under the carport.

I gave my friend a reassuring smile, even though I could taste the hot dog and mozzarella sticks in my throat. I got out, then walked around and helped Lisa May down.

The small concrete porch sagged forward when I stepped on the lower step; Mr. Barrett needed to drop a few bricks underneath the front to prop it against the raised home. The front door was jerked open before Lisa May reached the concrete pad.

"You can go now," Mr. Barrett snapped at me, grabbing his daughter's bare arm and jerking her into the dark interior.

"No, I can't," I snapped just as forcefully.

"This the guy? Huh? This the guy got you so pissed eyed drunk couldn't even see straight?" Mr. Barrett screamed at his daughter.

"Yes, I am," I admitted, pushing him into his home.

"Hey now!" the man snarled, turning to face me.

There was an odor of burned grease in the living room. A television sat on top of another television and was playing the local news. This was the only light in the room; the heavy curtains kept the late afternoon sun out of the small room.

But I could see that Mr. Barrett was older than me, could see that he had a sunken in chest and a large belly. His arms were scrawny, and his boxer shorts revealed pale, scrawny legs. In a fair fight, I'd mop the floor with him.

"Lisa May's pregnant," I said.

That declaration took all of the fight out of him. He just let out some odd sound and sagged.

"This true?" he finally asked Lisa May.

"Yeah," Lisa May said.

"So now, we all need sit down, talk about what we're going to do about it," I said.

"Want you out of my house. Right God damned now," Mr. Barrett ordered, trying to make himself large again.

"Think I want to be here?" I asked. "But we need to talk. Like adults."

"Well, didn't talk to me, like adults, when you got her drunk, took advantage of her," he snapped.

"And what would you have said?" I asked, trying real hard not to laugh at him.

It was preposterous, really. Here was this shriveled up prune of a man, trying to make himself all tough. And I did not get his daughter drunk in order to take advantage of her. She asked me for my weed.

And if it hadn't been me to fuck her, it would have been a little shit like Travis. Did he think Travis would have manned up, come to him to talk about their mutual problem?

"Daddy, what's done is done," Lisa May quietly said.

"Yeah, same thing your mother would have said," her father sighed.

So, we sat at his shaky kitchen table, drinking lukewarm, almost clear coffee. It had that taste of being made from old grounds, like all Wade Barrett had done was pour water over used grounds.

Just like I didn't like the coffee, I didn't like what we'd hammered out. I would have gladly paid for an abortion, but the statue of the Virgin Mary and a few other statues of people I didn't recognize told me that at least Wade was Catholic, probably Lisa May too.

Long story short, in five Saturdays from now, I was going to be a husband. Lisa May actually bounced in delight as I agreed to get a check to Wade, to pay my portion of the wedding, to pay for Lisa May's dress.

"Love you," Lisa May said, pursing her lips for a kiss.

"Uh huh, whatever," I thought as I dutifully kissed her.

In three Saturdays my trailer would be loaded and moved to a trailer park in Lake Charles. As I drove from the Barrett home, I did seriously kick myself for letting Wade and Lisa May know that, after the wedding, Lisa May would be moving to Lake Charles. I could have agreed to the wedding, even sent Wade a check, then just done a midnight move.

Andy Ferran, a friend of mine from the old trailer park had gotten Melinda Babineaux pregnant. It was just his bad luck; we'd all fucked Melinda Babineaux. But he was the one that bought her bullshit of he didn't need a condom.

Henry Babineaux had a little talk with Andy, they agreed that Andy would marry Melinda. Then, when they wasn't looking, Andy used his cousin's ID and joined the US Navy. Andy's cousin had died the summer before, drug overdose, and I guess the Navy didn't bother checking too deep into Nick Ferran's background.

Another buddy of mine, this one from the oil rigs, said pretty much the same thing. He jumped on top of the slut of the neighborhood and the rubber broke. He refused to marry her; he knew he didn't love her; she was just a piece of ass. And he knew his job of on one week, offshore two weeks just gave the girl too much free time to fuck around on him.

"Should have married the cow," he told me as we chowed down our breakfast. "Shit, would've been a shit load cheaper. Six hundred dollars a month and half of every God damned fucking bill that bitch shoves in my face. I'd married her? Fucking insurance would pay for bunch of them fucking bills."

Someone at the table did tell him, if his name was on the birth certificate, he could put the puppy on his insurance. We all agreed, though, he did need to do a blood test, make sure the rug rat was really his.

But I'm too old to join the Navy. And truth be known, there's worse things to be than married to a sexy young lady, worse things to be than being a daddy.

After smoking a mammoth sized bowl of weed, I did a mental calculation and wrote out a check for three thousand dollars. That check went into the Post Office box on the corner and I staggered back home, smoked another bowl and then poured a stiff drink.

Getting a three-thousand-dollar check in the mail did help soften Wade's mood toward me. The next Saturday, I sat at their kitchen table, choking down a hunk of gristle he called pot roast. The gravy was made from a soup mix and the rice was pretty burned. Lisa May and Wade ate it with relish, though.

"Valerie was a much better cook then me," Wade admitted, smiling. "But uh, getting better, eh, Lisa May?"

"Yeah," Lisa May agreed.

Wade found a picture of himself with Valerie and I almost spit out the mouthful of meat.

His Valerie had been my Valerie. I looked at the picture of Valerie Lampkin, looking quite beautiful in her pale pink wedding gown, next to a barely smiling Wade Barrett.

I looked at Lisa May; her hair was dyed a platinum blonde now, with severe dark roots showing. But I could now see it. My fiancé' had the same sweet smile as Ms. Lampkin had shown. Isn't it funny how things seem to go in circles?

I looked at the photograph again. Valerie was smiling, as beautiful as ever in her pink wedding gown. Even in his suit, Wade's scrawny arms and sunken chest were apparent. In the photograph, he looked quite constipated, face all pinched looking.

"Man, when was this taken?" I asked. "Damned if you don't look not a day older, huh?"

"Oh, I don't know, little more gray, huh, Lisa May?" Wade preened.

"Little?" Lisa May teased.

The transfer from Abbeville to Lake Charles went smoothly for the first week. Then, the Monday before my wedding day, Debbie couldn't wait to get home to Abbeville before she started drinking. She was pulled over, failed the field sobriety test and went to jail on a DUI charge. So that left me running the office by myself.

By the time Friday rolled around, I was beat. Paperwork needs to be done, whether there's three people, two people, or just one person doing it. The State of Louisiana doesn't care and doesn't want to hear excuses. The cups need to be handed out, the samples need to be sent in, and the paperwork needs to be complete for each sample.

So, when Wade greeted me, barely cool beer in outstretched hand, I was ready to put my fist through a wall. Where was that little shit Travis when I needed him?

Lisa May was in the kitchen, burning our dinner, I mean, 'cooking' our dinner.

"Yeah, Valerie comes to me, tells me she's knocked up, what am I going do about it," Wade confided to me as we sat on his sagging ass couch.

I guess the beer in his hand wasn't the first one he's had today. He gave a little laugh, shaking his head.

"I mean, shit, you can tell, in them picture, she's got that jumbo-sized ass, I mean, shit, them hips? Finding pair of pants fit her was damned near impossible," he said. "Big ass cow."

I felt a flash of anger, listening to him. Valerie had been beautiful, sexy. I had loved her. And his daughter had the same large hips, thick thighs.

"Thing is? My older brother? Had Retinitis Pigmentosa. It's this hereditary disease. Watched him go blind, bit by bit; never did really adjust to it, committed suicide one night. Just took a shotgun, blew top of his head off," Wade said. "And my mother and sister; they were both paranoid schizophrenic; Jesus! One minute everything's fine, next minute, they're pulling out knives, threatening either kill us or themselves."

"Damn! That, that's, really?" I asked, looking into the kitchen at my bride to be.

"Knew I didn't want pass either one on to any kids of mine," Wade continued. "With my luck? Kid would get both. Be blind as a bat and psychotic as shit."

"Did, is, I mean, Lisa May's not..." I asked, wanting a big bowl of weed right now, wanting something a little, a lot stronger than this piss poor beer.

"So had a vasectomy minute I turned eighteen," Wade said. "Never told Valerie neither."

"I, wait, what?" I asked, confused.

"So, when she popped up knocked up? Knew I'd better shit or get off the pot. I didn't marry her? This other guy she's fucking might just jump up and steal her away from me," Wade said. "Fat ass or not, ugly or not, was a lot better than being alone, know what I'm saying? Want another beer?"

"Hmm? Oh, no, not really much of a drinker," I said, fighting against my anger.

Valerie had not been a 'fat ass' and she certainly had not been ugly. She had deserved a lot more than being married to some asshole that married her just because he didn't want anyone else playing with his toys.

Lisa May's Hamburger Helper was slightly more palatable than Wade's pot roast. It certainly was better than last Friday's chicken jambalaya. That dish had been so dry it had been almost inedible.

After dinner, I kissed Lisa May, resisting the urge to grab a big handful of her sexy ass. I shook Wade's hand, resisting the urge to punch him in his selfish face, and drove to my trailer.

Once home, I did gulp down three whiskeys in a row. After smoking a bowl of weed, I collapsed on my bed, thinking that this would be my last night alone.

There was something in the back of my head, something bothering me. Something bothered me about what Wade had told me, and it wasn't just that he was a selfish, small minded asshole that had only married my Valerie because someone else wanted her.

Even though they are Catholic, Wade and Lisa May had been unable to arrange for a quickie marriage in a Catholic Church, nor could they get a priest. So, our wedding was done in their backyard, in their little gazebo, officiated by a Deacon of their church.

Bryce was my best man; he looked horrible and I didn't know if he'd make it all the way through the ceremony. But he gave me a big smile; as much of a smile as he could with the left side of his face frozen like that.

Debbie and her boyfriend showed up also. Both of them looked miserable, whether with each other, or the setting, or both, it didn't matter.

Then, as I watched Lisa May, looking very cute in her pale pink wedding dress, the same dress her mother had worn, a piece of the puzzle fell into place.

Wade had gotten a vasectomy because of the history of diseases in his family tree. He had married Valerie because of her pregnancy, even though he knew that there was no way that the child could possibly be his.

Wade Barrett had never told Valerie about his vasectomy; she never knew that Lisa May wasn't his daughter. Lisa May didn't know she wasn't Wade Barrett's daughter.

Valerie Lampkin had cheated on Wade Barrett, cheated on the dour, scrawny, selfish, self-centered bastard with an eighteen-year-old kid in her trailer park. I was that eighteen-year-old kid she had cheated with. Personally, I couldn't blame her; any woman in her right mind would have cheated on Wade with anyone, anyone at all.

"Who gives this woman to be wed?" the deacon, a smiling butterball asked in a surprisingly deep voice.

Was I the only one Valerie had fucked that summer? None of the other guys in the trailer park ever bragged about fucking Miss Lampkin, and believe me, those dick heads would have bragged to everybody about fucking 'Miss Elephant Thighs.'

But how about at her job; had she fucked anyone in her office? Had she fucked any of Wade's friends? Any old friends from her high school; bumping into an old friend at the grocery store, one thing leads to another and she's back at their apartment, bouncing on their cock while he slaps her ass?

"Her mother and I do," Wade said.

The deacon recited a couple of words out of a Bible. He pointed out numerous weddings, including the wedding at Canaan, where our Lord and Savior performed his first miracle.

Right now, I certainly could use someone turning a little water into wine. Of course, I'd have to knock Debbie out to get any of it.

"The ring is a circle," the deacon said. "It has no beginning, no end; it is the symbol of love, of unity."

I slipped the elegant band onto Lisa May's finger. Lisa May slipped a matching band onto my finger. With a kiss, we were husband and wife, joined in holy backyard matrimony.

I know I met her uncle, her aunt, her three cousins. But I couldn't tell you their names if my life depended on it.

I do remember her uncle telling me I better treat his favorite niece right or he'd hunt me down. I smiled and shook his hand. Truthfully, Bryce could have kicked Lisa May's uncle's ass and Bryce couldn't get out of his chair without help.

Eating the slightly stale catered meal, then cutting the grocery store wedding cake, I did have to wonder just what my three thousand dollars had gone toward. Even Lisa May's wedding dress had been free; it had been Valerie's dress.

The champagne was non-alcoholic due to Lisa May's pregnancy. I shrugged it off; I planned on getting good and hammered the moment we were in my trailer.

Finally, under a shower of rice, Lisa May and I left the mosquito infested back yard. The eighty-mile trip was uneventful; most of the traffic on I-10 was travelling east at that time of night.

Arriving at my, at our trailer, I helped my beautiful bride down from my large pickup truck. She giggled as I carried her across the clam shell parking lot, up the steps to my trailer, and across the threshold.

I didn't stop until I reached my, our bedroom. Lisa May laughed happily as I made to throw her onto the bed, and then lay her gently into the middle of the bed.

"Oh, hey, this new?" she asked, noticing that I had swapped out my full-sized bed for a queen sized one since the last time she'd been in my bed.

"For you," I said, kissed her, then ran to get her suitcases out of the truck.

I don't know my neighbors yet. They're usually still in bed when I leave for work, and most are having dinner by the time I return. So, I don't know just how safe luggage would be if left unattended.

"Just married, huh?" the morbidly obese neighbor directly across asked, smiling.

"Yes ma'am," I smiled.

"Well, congratulations Honey," she said. "Ya'll need stop by sometime for cup of coffee, hear?"

At least one of my neighbors was friendly. I was sure, in time, we'd meet other neighbors, find some good ones, find some not so good ones.

"Kind of busy at the moment," I smiled, and she laughed.

"This was my momma's dress," Lisa May said when I returned to our bedroom.

"I know. I seen the pictures," I said. "Of course, you ask me? Looks a whole lot better on you."

I was careful getting her out of that dress. One, I didn't want to ruin Lisa May's memory and two, I didn't want to ruin Valerie's dress.

Underneath Lisa May wore a pretty pink lace bra and matching panties. Her panties were hidden underneath pantyhose, though and I hate, absolutely hate pantyhose.

The pantyhose rolled down easily enough, and I kissed my way up Lisa May's thick legs, heading toward her sweet little pussy.

"Ah, Confucius say, 'Panties not best thing on earth, but next to it,'" I said in a horrible Asian accent.

I rolled the panties down, baring her brown curls. Then, panties out of the way, I began to lick up and down Lisa May's fragrant slit. Her inner lips came out to play and they got licked and lightly nibbled. Then I jammed two fingers in and began to fuck her pussy with my fingers while I sucked on her clittie.

"Ah shit!" my bride screamed out, clamping them thick legs around my head.

I sucked and fingered Lisa May to another orgasm before wiggling my way up. I nibbled on her belly for a minute, which caused her to giggle. Then I unhooked her bra and chewed on her little titties.

"Call me Daddy," I growled as I shoved my cock into her pussy.

"Oh, Daddy, I love you," Lisa May said.

"Oh yeah, Mommy, Daddy loves his little Mommy," I grunted, feeling her hot, wet pussy wrapping around my dick.

I'm embarrassed to admit it, but three pumps and I was done. Again, Lisa May wrapped those heavy legs around me and damned near squeezed the life out of me while I spurted my load.

For a few minutes, we lay there, gently kissing, gently touching each other. I couldn't, wouldn't keep my hands off of her titties or her sweet chunky ass.

"I need a drink," I finally admitted.

"Oh! And get me some weed, huh?" Lisa May demanded.

"Uh, the baby?" I asked. "Remember, Mommy? Not good for you be getting all fucked up."

"Jesus, like one's going hurt," Lisa May spat.

Well, if I was going to fuck my bride's tight ass, I needed for her to be in a good mood. And, I was going to fuck her tight ass before we went to sleep. So, I found my bong, packed it down, then fixed myself a very large whiskey on the rocks.

We shared the bong; we did not share the whiskey. That bowl out of the way, I rolled Lisa May onto her hands and knees.

She complained when I began tonguing her sweet little rosebud. She complained, but she didn't stop me. She complained when I wormed a thumb into her tight little hole, but again, she didn't stop me.

I had both thumbs into her ass now and was gently opening her up. But now, she was mashing back against me, trying to get more of my fingers into her tight ass.

I used some Vaseline to get her pooper ready. Lisa May said it felt weird, but again, she made no move to stop me.

I greased up my aching cock with some Vaseline and prepared to stuff my dick into her butt. The sight of my sperm dribbling out of her pussy, dribbling down her thick thighs was all it took, and I sprayed her legs and pussy with my sperm.

I was totally amazed I didn't lose my hard. Cock still spurting, I managed to stuff the head of my dick into her greased rectum.

Lisa May let out a strangled scream and lurched, which caused my cock to pop out of her. But she didn't tell me to stop.

I reached around her wide hip with one arm and used my other hand to again guide my dick to her hole. I again managed to stuff the head of my greasy cock into her.