Kayla

Kayla by Polly+Anna (4315 words) New beginnings (2/1/20)

7:05 A.M. - December 25

Gary walked into the bar room and the barmaid greeted him with "Merry Christmas."

"And a hearty 'Bah, Humbug' to you too."

"Your usual?"

"I'm anything if not predictable," he said.

Cindy Lou poured Worcestershire sauce and Tabasco on top of the ice in the tall glass and reached for the Vodka.

"Your bacon and eggs will be a minute," she said, "Lynette called in sick, so I'm the only one here."

"Yeah, right," Gary said sardonically, as he hung his black 'Plant Security' Jacket on the back of the barstool. "She's sick this morning."

"She has little kids," Cindy said, "and she said that if she got another couple hour's rest, she could make it in before lunch."

"Cindy Lou," he said, "the world runs on bullshit."

"You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch

You really are a heel,

You're as cuddly as a cactus, you're as charming as an eel, Mr. Grinch,

You're a bad banana with a greasy black peel!

You're a monster, Mr. Grinch,

Your heart's an empty hole,

Your brain is full of spiders, you've got garlic in your soul, Mr. Grinch,

I wouldn't touch you with a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole!

You're a vile one, Mr. Grinch,

You have termites in your smile,

You have all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile, Mr. Grinch,

Given the choice between the two of you I'd take the seasick crocodile!

You're a foul one, Mr. Grinch,

You're a nasty..."

"Did you put this on?" Gary asked, referring to the song that was playing. Mosey's was the only place he knew that had a real Wurlitzer Juke Box, with real vinyl 45s, and it only cost a dime to play it.

"Yeah, you can dump it if you want," Cindy said. "Boy, you really do hate Christmas don't you.

"Nah," he said, "I can wait. And it's not the day, one day is the same as the next. It's the hypocrisy, the people who ignore you eleven months out of the year saying, 'Merry Christmas.' All of the fake joy and all of the materialism and the money-grubbing."

"Wow," Cindy said. "You really are the Grinch..."

"That's Gary Grengemorgan," he said smiling a little, "why on earth do you think I work midnights? It's to avoid people. You should try it."

"The city says we can't serve from one till seven," Cindy said, "otherwise I just might.

He drained his first Bloody Mary. Then he got up and walked over to the juke box. Having made his selections, he dropped a couple of dimes.

Dink, Click, Whir...

"Too much of nothin' can make a man feel ill at ease

One man's temper might rise, while the other man's temper might freeze.

In the days of long confessions, we can not mock a soul

When there's too much of nothin', no one has control.

Say hello to Valerie, say hello to Marion,

Send them all my salary, on the waters of oblivion..."

"You know," said Cindy calling to him from the kitchen, "I love Peter, Paul and Mary and all, but there are 47 other songs on that jukebox. Even three more of theirs'."

"I only come in here for the jukebox," he said. "You know that."

"Oh... Thanks..." She said, as she walked to the bar with a plate containing his breakfast.

"Sorry," Gary said, "You know, I like you too, you aren't like real people."

"I guess..." she said, "I mean, that was meant as a complement, right?"

"Yeah," he said, as she began to mix a second drink for him.

"So, 'Too Much of Nothing,' huh, you know Bob Dylan wrote it."

"Everybody's doin' somethin', I heard it in a dream

But when it's too much of nothin', it just makes a fella mean..."

"Uh huh, that's me," Cindy said, "you know I know that I'm not no beauty queen."

"Beauty sucks," said Gary, "my ex-wife was beautiful, on the outside. Inside she was a toad-stool sandwich."

"Yeah," she said placing the second Bloody-Mary in front of him, "my ex decided he couldn't love someone who developed thick thighs and a bit of a belly. You know I may not be Aphrodite, but I have feelings and I sure can listen good."

"Here's to Christmas," he said raising his glass, "sorry 'bout it Jesus, but it's the worst day of the year."

"Is that how you feel?" Asked Cindy Lou, "Mean?"

"I'm jealous more than mean," Gary said, "I mean, I see other people and I wonder; 'Why not me.'"

"Has it always been so?" Asked Cindy.

"No," Gary replied, "I was happy once, but when dad died mom pretty much lost it. I was sent to live with my grandparents here. You know, they were supposed to take care of me. But then I got shifted off onto a siding. Life just went on without them. I was a dead-end. These memories - they haunt me. Promises of happiness made but not kept. But then nobody keeps their word. Both of us have experienced that."

"Wow," she said walking to the jukebox, "dark..."

"Yeah, that's me," he said, "watch as I drop everything off Mount Crumpit later."

"You know," said Cindy, "hate isn't the opposite of love, apathy is."

"So, what'd-ya choose," said Gary, as Cindy Lou dropped her dime into the machine.

"D3, Harry Chapin, A Better Place to Be..."

"It was an early morning bar room,

And the place just opened up.

And the little man come in so fast and

Started at his cup.

And the broad who served the whiskey

She was a big old friendly girl.

And she tried to fight her empty nights

By smilin' at the world..."

"Would you like anything else," Cindy said as she cleared Gary's plate.

"Nothing you can get in a bar," Gary said finishing his second Bloody-Mary.

"'I came back with my paper bag, to find that she was gone.

She'd left a six word letter saying 'It's time that I moved on.''

The waitress took her bar rag, and she wiped it across her eyes.

And as she spoke her voice came out as something like a sigh.

She said "I wish that I was beautiful, or that you were halfway blind.

And I wish I weren't so god-damned fat, I wish that you were mine.

And I wish that you'd come with me, when I leave for home.

For we both know all about loneliness, and livin' all alone."

And the little man,

Looked at the empty glass in his hand.

And he smiled a crooked grin,

He said, " I guess I'm out of gin.

And know we both have been so lonely.

And if you want me to come with you, then that's all right with me.

'Cause I know I'm goin' nowhere and anywhere's a better place to be."

Gary took out his wallet to pay.

"Gary, did you hear the song?" she said.

"Yeah..."

"The message?"

"So, Doctor Freud," he said, "are you saying that there is someone for everyone, is that what you are saying?"

"No, Gary, I don't know about everyone. But there is someone for you, if you are interested, at two o'clock this afternoon. Right here..."

"Yeah, Cindy," he said, "thanks for the thought. It was sweet, but right now you don't hate me. I'm probably better off keeping it that way."

***

About the only thing Henry's mom and dad agreed on completely was that they didn't like Cindy Lou.

Actually, what they had said -- on more than one occasion - was that "Kayla was okay. But they didn't like my drunken whore of a mother."

In addition, they both told him that I wasn't "the kind of girl that he should hang around with." Then after he defied them and still saw me, they had him talk the situation over with their minister.

That was a rather stupid thing to do because my mom was really just a depressed drunk. Too out of it to actually turn tricks whereas Jesus' best friend really was a prostitute.

I started going out with Henry in the summer after I had graduated from high school. He had been a year ahead of me in school and was home from college. I was walking home from the grocery and he stopped and gave me a ride. I was surprised that he had remembered me, I had always felt invisible in high school.

Or maybe I just wanted to be invisible. Dad had left home before my freshman year, and I became the functional head of the household caring for my sister who was two grades behind me in school. He regularly sent us checks, but after paying for the rent, groceries, utilities, a bail bondsman, two attorneys, a hefty fine and payments on a car totaled while driving under the influence - there wasn't a lot of money left over.

More than a year earlier I had talked to Henry on occasion while waiting for my sister's school bus, and back then he had actually given me a ride to school a couple of times. He said that he had thought that I was "cute but wore weird clothes and was not popular." That was an understatement. My wardrobe was bought straight off of the clearance rack at Goodwill.

If I had talked the situation over with anyone at the time, I probably would have been told that he was not interested in me, but was too polite to brush me off. But I didn't have anyone to counsel me and he was cute and very straightforward. If I had any friends, they might have told me that once he had laid me, I would have been forgotten. But they would have been wrong.

Maybe in my own mind I had decided that Henry was the complete package and that I was going to do whatever it took to keep him. When the summer ended, I followed him back to College Park and left my seventeen-year-old sister "to fend for herself," as mother was quick to point out in a semi-coherent slur. Conveniently forgetting that when I was seventeen, I was responsible for a fifteen-year-old and a thirty-nine-year-old who acted as if she were twelve.

I had been wrong about Henry, I thought he had it all and that he lived the perfect life. His parents had decent jobs and some material wealth, but they were also miserable and tried to drag everyone into their misery with them. Henry managed to escape their toxicity but he wasn't unscathed by it. My devotion to him touched him deeply and we quickly became inseparable. We found a place together in College Park and talked of marriage.

"She's trying to trap you," his mom said to him.

"You need to find a 'nice' girl," his dad said to him.

"She is nice," he said.

"How nice?" Mom asked, "if she is too nice it's proof she is trying to trap you."

"I will break up with her and find someone indifferent to me, Mother."

"Don't you take that tone with your mother," his dad said to him. "Her mother is a drunk, wrecked her car on the State Highway while schokkered. She nearly killed—"

That was where the fish in the story always got bigger and better. Eventually mom had barely missed crashing into a church picnic attended by the Dali Lama, Mother Theresa, the Pope, Jesus and seven of the Apostles.

"She is sweet and polite." He said, "moreover, she is not her mother."

But they had heard all the rumors about Cindy Lou. How she drove-off or maybe even murdered my father and hid his corpse so that she could turn tricks in our house. How she was screwing every husband in the neighborhood except Henry's father. How most of what was being said about Cindy Lou contradicted something else that was also being said about her.

It was all so much more interesting than the truth. That my parents were two drunks who had a relationship based on physical attraction and that once the sizable bills from their irresponsible behavior came due he left and her sense of self-worth fell off a cliff. She lost her driver's license and worked in a bar and occasionally shagged the delivery guy from the local grocery but paid for the groceries.

When I was a senior in high school she worked nights. So, she usually woke up after we had gone and laid out on a lounge sunbathing until she went to work when the weather was nice. There were stories about her shagging the lawn care guys floating around but I never saw that. When it wasn't warm, she wore this little swimsuit cover-up that barely covered anything, not that she ever wore much of anything under it.

A year later when I was dating Henry, we were able to use my bedroom to fuck after mom went to work. Although not as frequently as either of us would have liked. I had a "child" to care for and as I said, his parents did not care for him seeing me. On a few sweet occasions Henry stayed over, and we would take the first shower together, making love before making breakfast, long before anyone else was awake.

Early one morning while mother was sleeping one off in her room we were in my bed. Henry slowly-y-y lifted my dress up over my head. I hugged him tightly and he gave me a very, very long kiss. I fondled his ass through his jeans as he fondled my bare one. I dropped to my knees and unbuckled his belt dropping his pants to the carpet. Then I slid his briefs to the floor as well. His little soldier sprang to attention.

I wrapped my left hand around that monster and kissed his one eye. I licked him and placed him in my warm wet mouth. Ahh, he was so sweet, bobbing fore and aft while being sucked by me. I ran my hand up and down along his raging shaft. Henry was right on the edge when I stopped. He didn't have to ask why, I had... We had both wanted this for a while, and now was the time. Henry was about to become my first.

I had stopped sucking. I slowly removed my mouth from my stiff friend, Dickie. He stood proud. We kissed, and then Henry laid me down on my bed. He crawled onto the bed beside me and kissed the insides of my thighs. He kissed the hair at the top of my slit. Then he rolled on top of me to kiss my perky nipples. I offered them to my lover, and he brought them into his mouth Flicking them with his tongue as we lined 'ole Willie up for the main event. I would lose my virginity in one firm, very slow thrust.

I had read a little on the subject, so I knew that this was probably going to be a little painful, so I adjusted my weight on my elbows and I thought a wonderful thought as Henry pushed inside shattering my hymen, and coming to rest with his wonderful wang entirely within me. I had yelped as he pushed in, but I was grinning from ear to ear.

"Now you have to marry me," I said, still smiling.

"Was there really any doubt?" He asked me. He was also smiling.

"Nope," I said as Henry started to move inside of me.

I was moaning softly as he pulled halfway out, then stopped, and pushed back in. Sir Richard Johnson felt so firm and so warm and so wonderful inside of me. He began to pump, varying the amount of withdrawal but always pushing back into Miss V. Ginny until our pubes bounced. He clutched at me and kissed me as I rested my weight on my elbows and kissed him repeatedly. My moans and my groans became louder and more frequent until his thrusts pushed me over the edge and I screamed in orgasm.

As I came my pussy clenched hard, and that delicious pressure squeezing on Henry's lovely penis pushed him over the edge. He came, ejaculating his essence into me. It was delightful, our first time. Not that our many, many next times were not wonderful - but there really is only one first-time.

Henry had agreed to marry me seconds after shattering my maidenhead and he followed through with his promise. We lived together in College Park for almost a year before we had a nice little ceremony that was only slightly delayed as we gave our four parents the opportunity to plan a wedding. An event that not one of them particularly wanted to take place.

Henry went back to school the next Monday as a married man, and I went back to my job as a receptionist. It was a few months into Henry's Junior year at the University. It had taken a year, but in that time he had completely changed both my wardrobe and my mind-set. Months later when Cindy Lou knocked at our door, suitcase in hand, she was astonished at how much I had changed.

It was the completion of our role reversal; Henry and I were the "adults" who earned our way in life and had a stable, loving relationship. Cindy Lou was destitute having been dismissed from her job and giving up the house. She slept on our sofa or in our recliner in a nearly naked state with her pussy and tits on frequent display.

I don't remember who came up with the idea for our tattoos, but we talked about them for months before we actually went through it. We decided on a fancy script design that said, "Henry and Kayla forever," and Henry went to the parlor expecting that we would each get one tattoo. But I had more thoroughly prepared for this day.

Henry went first, taking his shirt off and having the green pigment poked hole by hole into his dermis. I took off my blouse and the artist placed a matching tat between the cups of my bra. Then we surprised him, I lifted my skirt. Having shaved just above my rather low panty line, I told was going to have a "Property of Henry" tattoo placed there, unless he objected.

Hell no he didn't object! His heart belonged to Kayla. In a flash he decided that it was great that I had decided that Kayla's body belonged to him. He has always made sure that I did not regret that decision.

I made Cindy Lou get a job, but she always seemed to be inside of the house. That was partly because she was now working an early morning to afternoon shift at a local bar. It wasn't so much her being there that annoyed me as her behavior while being there. She had always been an indifferent mother. Now she was trying to get my husband's attention, and she was trying to watch us being together.

But drunks aren't very quiet as they lurk. For one thing furniture keeps leaping out in front of them. Mom's favorite laying about outfit was a white wife-beater tee-shirt with huge armholes that displayed plenty of sideboob and no panties. It was weird, but Henry dealt with it by grabbing my butt every time mom flashed him. Sometimes he stroked my clothed pussy with the back of his hand. It was in this environment that we planned and executed our successful coup-d'état.

We had decided to try and dry mom out, and we didn't have a lot of great choices about how to do it. In my opinion, she wasn't a bad person, although she was a very, very bad parent. We tried to set limits on her drinking which she simply ignored, she had credit cards and knew folks at the grocery who would deliver liquor to her.

A disagreement between myself and mom erupted over some guy named Gary, a regular at the bar, that she had decided was going to take her away from the mundane reality of her life. I offered to help her pack.

But, in typical Cindy Lou fashion she had first planned their entire lives together, and only then asked him out. He wasn't interested. She dealt with the rejection by getting sloshed at work. The owner dealt with her by sending her home early. So, she was in rare form when she got to our house.

Cindy Lou was sitting, sprawled in our recliner, her legs spread, wearing just that white tee-shirt and no panties. As per the usual, she was taunting me.

"What are you going to do, Kayla, spank me?"

"Maybe mom."

"You can't," she said, "I won't let you."

"Henry could."

"Only because I would let him," she said, "he's cute. I'd even let him fuck me."

It went back and forth for a while, I said that I would spank her if she misbehaved. She said that a spanking would guarantee her misbehavior. I asked her if she wanted to be spanked. Mom said both spanked and fucked but that she would settle for a spanking.

Well, at least I got mom to make a concession in exchange for a spanking.

Then I asked Henry if he would be willing to spank Cindy Lou.

Now that wasn't a very fair thing to do to my husband. For a normal, healthy, unattached male it would have been an extraordinarily stupid question. Mom was just over forty years old and not bad looking at all. Her breasts were falling out of the sides of her tee-shirt and its hem was climbing up showing both of us her pussy.

Were Henry, not my husband I doubt that he would have hesitated. But he was and I could only imagine the mental acrobatics my question just set into motion. He loved me while he merely tolerated Cindy Lou.