Blackberries

"Tell you what. I'll buy 'em all...every last one."

"All of 'em?" She looked over to his house, puzzled. The wood siding was weathered and in need of fresh paint. Weeds grew all through the yard. He had a scatter of holes in his thin white undershirt, and the knees of his grey trousers were worn through. He looked as if the church should be collecting a basket for him. She couldn't guess how he would pay for ten cartons of berries.

"That's what I said...all of 'em."

"What're you gonna do with all them berries?" She gave him a curious smile and pushed up her brown, cat-eye glasses.

"Maybe I'll make me some pie. You know...eatin' pie is one of my favorite things to do...and I'm mighty good at it."

Avis felt a hot flush come up on her cheeks. She was certain that the pie he spoke of was not the baked kind, and she played dumb.

"Well, I hope you're havin' some company, then...to share it with." She cleared her throat, feeling a bristle of discomfort along the back of her neck.

He stayed quiet and gave her a sly smile, looking like a snake in the grass. He slowly wiped his big hands on the blackened old baby diaper and watched her across a smattering of dandelions that filled the yard.

"That a '48 Ford?" Avis decided to break the awkward silence and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Sure is...only decent thing to my name. I'm fixin' her up. Wanna look?" His tone was almost coaxing and Avis stayed still.

"Well, I gotta get back soon...but...my daddy had one just like it...only blue. He died last summer."

"Awww...well come get a look-see, then. You can set them berries down in here too."

Avis hesitated as a parade of little red flags marched by in her head. Still, she let her two small feet carry her over to the open garage door. She stood just underneath it, peering into the dark, cramped space.

"You want a little drink?" He motioned to a tall, clear bottle of moonshine that stood three quarters empty. It sat among a bevy of wrenches and screwdrivers and an old transistor radio that played Big Band music on the lowest volume. "You old enough for a drink, right? Not that I wouldn't fill you up...even if you weren't."

"I'm nineteen...and no thank you. I don't drink, 'specially on the Lord's day." Her hands held fast to the tray of ripe blackberries. From an open field of wildflowers and tall grass behind the garage, Avis heard cicadas. Their steady, hot buzz filled her ears, and it was an eerie sound in the rural quiet.

"No drinkin', huh? You know, when the Lord turned water to wine, I do believe he was givin' us permission to tip a few. I mean...what's the harm in it? Once saved...always saved, right?" Billy asked it with a hint of contempt, and Avis was surprised that he had any comment on salvation at all. She'd never once seen him among the congregation.

"So, you're a church-goin' man, then?"

"Me? A church-goin' man? No, Ma'am. But my daddy was a preacher of sorts. He went 'round sellin' bibles. He always drug me along. He was all for 'spare the rod, spoil the child.' That's what you people call it...right?" He leaned back against an old wooden sawhorse and folded his knotted arms across his chest.

"Depends on what you believe, I guess." Avis swallowed hard and thought about the time. She'd forgotten to strap on a watch. It looked to be past six, judging by the sky. The sun had dipped and the shadows had lengthened on the ground. She glanced back at her truck. It was still there, waiting on her just a few yards back.

"Well, my daddy sure believed...still got proof of it on my face." He touched a faded, crescent shaped scar near his left eye. It curved down from his eyebrow and stretched to his cheekbone, and Avis went silent, feeling nothing but uneasy. She didn't have a clue on how to respond to such an intimate confession.

Billy looked at her face. He must have seen an uncertainty there because he changed the subject straight away. He seemed intent on drawing her closer, on setting her at ease, and Avis took at little step back.

"Never mind all that, now. Can you just turn this here ratchet for me, darlin'? I need to wash my hands. They're all slippery." He gave her a big, devil's smile, rubbing at the long green serpent that ran from his shoulder to his elbow.

Avis hesitated, more than ready to take her leave when he made no move to close their deal and offer payment. A moment later, though, she thought better of it. She knew that helping an indigent man with a hapless past was a good deed. It was the Christian thing to do, and she said a little prayer for his misfortunes.

Avis made her way further into the cramped, cluttered garage and set her tray of berries down on a long, wooden work bench that ran the length of the side wall. The tight space smelled of dirt and gasoline and there was a faint scent of dying lilacs that drifted in from a thirsty, mangled bush growing just outside the door.

She peeked at the naked engine. It looked exposed, as if a kind of surgery was being performed and she'd interrupted. There were metal parts lying on the cracked cement near her feet and two hubcaps propped up against the fender.

"Your daddy ever let you tinker 'round under a hood before?" Billy leaned on the rim of the open engine, right above the left headlight, and he was so close that Avis could smell his body. It was a mix of hard sweat and alcohol, with just a trace of pine underneath. He had freckles all across his red shoulders from working in the sun, and his thick, dark amber hair was slick with the fever of deep summer.

"A bit. He used to let me help out...well, watch mostly, but..." She gave him a little smile and he smiled back. It was the kind of grin that put a trusting soul at ease. His teeth were big, squared at the ends, and surprisingly white. He looked goofy when he smiled, almost boyish, though he was a full-grown man.

"So, you was a tomboy, then? I could see that. A pretty tomboy. Come on...I'll give you a lesson or two. I'm an awful good teacher." He wet his lips and Avis watched his eyes flutter over the front of her dress. She'd never been looked at in such a blatantly lewd way, and she was both repulsed and fascinated by him then.

"I don't think I got much time for lessons...but I can help you out with what you need...if it's a quick fix." Avis watched his big hands. They had thick knuckles and deep lines, his nails ragged.

"Well, I need a lot of things, Miss Avis...but, right now, I need you to fit that round piece over the third bolt...right there..." Billy reached across her and Avis couldn't help but breathe him in. He needed a long hot shower and a clean set of clothes, but Avis didn't back away. She didn't want to be rude.

"Like this?" Avis dug her tongue into her upper lip, concentrating as she fit the socket over the small, square head. The bolt slipped right inside.

"Like lock and key...one fits perfect inside the other." Billy watched the high points of her breasts in her thin, cotton dress and Avis was distracted for a moment. She couldn't help but blush at his insinuation.

"Now what?"

"Now, Miss Avis...just turn it...'till you can't no more. You'll feel it and know."

"I don't wanna break it."

"You ain't gonna...I ain't gonna let you break it, silly." He reached over and gave her little ponytail a soft tug, and despite the heat, Avis felt gooseflesh run all up and down her arms. "Keep goin'."

Billy watched the turn of her small wrist as he scratched at his rough jaw, and a pensive look crossed his face. "I wonder?"

"What?" She still held tight to the ratchet, turning it just as he'd instructed.

With her slender body leaned over the exposed engine, and her head tucked under the hood, Avis thought on her dress, how the motor oil might stain the front where her belly pressed up against the frame. It was her favorite frock, and it would surely be ruined.

"Well, I just wonder what color underthings a church girl might wear?" He looked down at her sweet, disheveled ponytail and the profile of her small, straight nose. "Red?...No. Least I hope not. Red is the Devil's shade."

Before she knew, Billy had lifted her thin summer dress up over her small behind. He held her skirt against the curve of her back, revealing her simple, light blue panties trimmed in soft lace. It had been too hot to wear stockings and he looked hungrily at her smooth, bare legs and the rounded shape of her firm bottom.

Avis gasped and dropped his ratchet with a loud, metallic clang. It slipped down into the guts of the engine and Billy slid his big, dirty hands around her waist, holding her up against the front bumper of his truck so she couldn't wiggle free.

"What are you doin'?!" Avis sucked in a surprised breath as his deep, greased-up palm cracked against her little bum. It left a black, oily print on her soft panties and he smiled.

Billy gave her firm behind another hard lick. It stung like a bee, and she let out a little squeak. Avis heard slow, dark laughter rise up from his belly as he admired the lines of his palm painted across her backside.

"Looks like they're angel blue. I was hopin' for white. Nice and pure...but I'll take angel blue. How 'bout I bend you over my knee this time? Give you a real spankin'? I think you'd like that...wouldn't you...church girl?" Billy pressed the thick heat of his erection into the soft dip of her back and rubbed it against her.

"Stop it! Get your hands off me. You can't just..."

"I can't just what? Smack your little church girl bottom? I got news for you, Miss Avis...I can do whatever the fuck I want. You came to my door, remember?"

Her wide hazel eyes should've been swimming in hot tears, but they were bone dry. She stood there stunned with an odd, dull ache pulsing between her legs.

"That don't give you a right...I'm a married woman." Avis collected herself, her cheeks flushed to the color of red apples. She smoothed her dress back down defiantly.

"Oooooo." He held up his big hands in surrender, as if she'd just pressed a loaded gun to his chest. "A married woman." He widened his black eyes at her. "I bet your hubby don't smack your little ass like that..." Billy pointed to the small, round diamond on her left hand. "I bet he don't lick your little pussy neither. Does he? He ever give that good-girl pussy a nice lickin'? Maybe on a Sunday mornin' 'fore church? So he can get forgiven right after? Does he look up to the sky and say, 'Forgive me, Lord, I'm sorry for lickin' that sweet little pussy. It's the last time...I swear it.'?"

"You're a blasphemer, Billy Winslow. Now let me by...and I'm takin' my berries. Seems you didn't plan on payin' me anyhow." Avis's hands trembled and her legs were all shaky and knock-kneed.

"Oh, I'm gonna pay you, just not with money. How 'bout you give me them berries, and I give you a good long ride on my big pecker? Could we call it even then, Miss Avis?"

Avis swallowed hard, realizing that she'd gotten herself into a whole mess of trouble. Sweat pooled under her arms, and her heart pounded like a jackhammer against her ribs.

"Step out of my way, Billy Winslow." She tried to sneak around him like a baby squirrel, but he stepped in front of her, and Avis's belly dropped. It suddenly felt like she was trapped on a hideous carnival ride.

"Not 'till you ask me nice..."

"What? I said...let me by." Avis gave him a look of disbelief when she realized he was serious. Her eyes drifted over to her little blue truck. It sat like an oasis at the edge of the unkempt yard. "Let. Me. By."

"Well, now...that don't sound very nice to me, little birdie."

Billy grabbed hold of her arms when she tried pushing past him. He gave her a hard shove, and Avis tumbled backward, right into a rusty old wheelbarrow. Luckily, a filthy looking patchwork quilt had been tucked inside, and it broke her fall. Avis lay stunned and blurry-eyed in the empty green wheelbarrow, her spindly legs dangling over the sides. Her glasses had toppled down her face, and they laid cracked and crooked under the jacked up Ford.

"Careful, now...clumsy girl." He gave her a big, clownish smile, hovering above her like a bad dream.

"My glasses..." She said it off the top of her head, feeling along the bridge of her nose absently, though she was well aware that those little spectacles were the least of her worries.

"You ain't gonna need them glasses, church girl. Just like you ain't gonna need them little blue panties."

Avis felt a hot rush of fear run through her. It turned her arms and legs all rubbery and loose.

"No...you keep away, now!" She hollered out loud, struggling to pull herself up out of the rickety old wheelbarrow, but her hand slipped and she skinned her palm good. She sucked in her breath at the burning pain.

"Let me see...looks like you gone and hurt yourself." Billy came at her quick and Avis squealed like a pink baby pig, hell-bent on fighting him off.

"I said no...keep away, you!" She kicked her strong legs at him and he gave her a bad little belly laugh, grabbing hold of one leg under the knee, then the other. He used his elbows to pin each of her smooth thighs to either side of the wheelbarrow. Avis tried writhing away, but she was no match. He wasn't the largest man by any means; Benjamin had at least three inches and twenty pounds on him, but Billy was strong as an ox. His arms were brawny and fatless, and his forearms were laced with springy muscle. He had wide, ropey shoulders and thick, weathered hands.

"Hold still, angel blue. You don't want me to tear 'em, now do you? How would you explain all that to your hubby?"

"Don't you dare. I'll kick you straight in the face if you try takin' 'em off. I swear it, now. I mean it."

"Oooooo...well, if you mean it. I guess I best back off..."

"You're terrible. You're a terrible person. You tricked me...and I was just tryin' to help you." Her breath went in and out desperately as he held her still.

"Awww. You was just tryin' to help me, huh? Well, you can keep helpin' me...just in a different way."

Avis felt a rush of warm salt come up in her eyes as he leaned in close. His elbows still dug into her thighs, and they left sore, red circles on her skin. Billy put his hot mouth against hers and he smelled like homemade liquor and sweet clove cigarettes. Avis stopped squirming as his big, square teeth grazed down against her tender throat.

"I wanna take a bite of you. I bet you somethin' delicious."

"Don't...I ain't gonna let you." She whispered it into the dense, sticky air, struggling with him as his hands slipped under her light summer dress. He grabbed hold of her little blue panties and felt along the lace for a seam.

"Shhhh...hold still now...hold still. I just wanna get a look at that pretty little pussy."

"Please...don't...I don't want you to..." Avis's mouth said the words, but her body spoke something entirely different. It was terrible, but her blue panties had a dark, wet stain that followed the line of her swollen cut, and she knew he saw it. She was all hot and slippery there, and it made her feel ashamed.

"No? You don't want me to?" He tried to bite at her soft bottom lip, but she pulled away, turning her face from his.

"No."

"You don't want me to do this?" Billy tugged at the seam of her little blue panties, right at the side of her hip. She heard the soft tear of fabric. "What 'bout this?" She felt his knuckles brush against her tender opening when he found the seam along the front and tore it open. He pulled them clean off her in the next breath, tossing them up on his tool bench, right beside her tray of sweet blackberries.

"Look how pretty you are. So pink and so sweet. Like cotton candy. I bet you taste nice too."

A rickety wooden footstool stood nearby, and Billy used the rounded toe of his heavy old boot to pull it over. He sat down on it, right in front of the rusty green wheelbarrow. Calmly, he reached over and grabbed up a few berries, tossing one or two into his mouth before he pushed her thin dress up over her bare belly. He set one large, beautiful berry in the small hallow of her navel and two more just above it, slipping a third into his mouth.

"Well, now...look at my manners. I ain't bein' very hospitable, am I? You want one too? Yeah...I think you do."

Billy reached over to her red tray and brought over another handful.

"Open up. Go on now...open up."

Avis opened up with angry, narrowed eyes and Billy lingered there, taunting her, slipping the wild blackberries into her mouth one at a time as she swallowed them down.

"Good girl. Mighty sweet, ain't they? Here, let's get you comfortable." Billy tossed the remaining fruit onto the cracked concrete and pulled loose the brown laces on each of her saddle shoes. He slid them off and slowly peeled away her white bobby socks. "Look at these cute little sockies. You really are a good girl, ain't you? I like that." Avis was barefoot a moment later, and a deep sense of dread crept up in her belly. She'd have a devil of a time running on gravely dirt and prickly weeds in tender bare feet.

"Open them legs for me...all the way."

"I...I don't wanna..."

"You should though...you should do it for me. After all, I'm takin' all these berries off your hands, right?" He popped another ripe morsel into his mouth and chewed it up. "Remember, the customer's always right. That's what my daddy taught me, and he sold a lot of bibles, Miss Avis."

Avis kept still, and when she finally tried drawing her legs back together, he came at her like an angry hawk, quick and fierce. She let out a frightened screech, like a tiny field mouse.

"Did you hear what I said? Open up...all the fuckin' way!"

"All right...I'm gonna." Avis put her hands up in front of her face, watching a hot fury come over his black eyes.

"Scoot your bottom up here..." Billy grabbed hold of her long legs and pulled her closer, spreading her wide, and Avis winced, never feeling more vulnerable in her young life.

He reached over and shimmied the red tray closer so he could dig in at will. After he'd found the perfect specimen, he held it up in front of Avis's eyes.

"She's a beauty, ain't she?" Billy took that plump, dark berry and squeezed it between his dirty fingers. It popped and a little spurt of deep purple juice dripped down her tender cut. He watched hungrily and leaned in, lapping his hot tongue up and down the warm sweetness that stained her soft pink flesh. His spittle mixed with the pulpy fruit and made a sugary mess of her most private part. The juice had collected in her little pucker, that forbidden bit of flesh sitting just below her small, puffy cut, and he reached for another berry, using his thumb and forefinger as a vise. Another tiny river of blackberry nectar trickled down her swollen nub, and she drew in a sharp breath as he sucked that firm, pretty bud into his warm, slippery mouth.

"I think you like that. Seems you got a little berry too. She's sticking right out at me now...like an itty bitty sore thumb." He pulled her apart with his thumbs, spreading her open, and he ducked low to give that tender berry a deep, hard lick. She bit down at her full bottom lip and squeezed her eyes shut, feeling ashamed and afraid and undeniably aroused all at the same time.

"I don't want you to...please...don't. Don't do that." That one hungry stoke of his tongue had made a hot flutter of pleasure spread all through her belly, and though she ached like nobody's business, Avis resisted him.

"What 'bout this?" He licked at that clean, dainty pucker, sucking at the tiny puddle of sweet berry juice there, and she tensed up, pushing him away with her bare foot. She knew it was a place no mouth should ever be.

"No. You can't. It's sinful. We'll both go straight to Hell." Avis felt feverish as he cupped her chin in his big hand.