Sandy

Sandy was a young slut that some called the village pump. She was a good-looking girl from what was thought to be a respectable family, who was said to be a good student at the local high school and was due to graduate in June.

Her name was Sandra, but every body called her Sandy, that is all she was ever called.

Sandy's thing was sex, lots of it. She would hang around the local gas station, the only one in town, and if one of the motorists happened to ask her if she wanted to go for a ride the answer was always OK. That ride almost invariably ended up at the lake a couple of miles away and in a secluded parking spot where Sandy would get fucked, and then driven back to the gas station.

It was always the same, Sandy would hop in the car, and unless the guy had something to say, they would drive in silence. When they got there, she dropped her pants, he would just fuck her without any foreplay or anything, she would pull up her pants, and they would drive back without a word being spoken. Sandy wasn't much of a conversationalist at the best of times.

Needless to say, Sandy was frequently the topic of conversation in male circles around the village, many asking what she got out of all of this. Apparently, she was docile and wasn't known to exhibit any emotions of any kind at any time, never moving a muscle throughout the whole process. No one could remember her reaching an orgasm, at least that anyone could detect.

The question on everybody's mind was why would she be doing this if she didn't get anything from it? No one seemed to be able to answer that question, and some felt that it was kind of sad, but were not going to say no when she pulled her pants down.

Before long, half of the prominent local businessmen were dipping their dicks in little miss Sandy's honey pot and before you knew it, she was up the stump. Someone knocked her up, but who? It was like asking which tooth did it, if you cut yourself on a saw.

When it became obvious that Sandy was pregnant, there was an exodus of said businessmen who quickly decided they needed to be somewhere else. Anywhere they could find, the further away the better.

Local gossip had it that several of the businessmen who had guilty consciences got together and set her up in a rented apartment furnished with hand me down things and paid a local guy to marry her. He wasn't too swift, and he certainly never had anything to do with Sandy before they got married. Despite the fact that Sandy was never known to turn anybody down when they wanted to fuck her, she would probably draw the line at the guy she eventually married. But it was funny to hear him talk about "his wife" after that. It sounded like he was proud of her, and maybe he was.

My role in all of this? Well, in a small village like this one, everyone knows your business. It's hard to get away with anything, so while I didn't know these people, I knew who they were, and had an idea what happened based on the gossip I had heard.

At the time, I was in the TV repair business, and got a call from Sandy although I didn't realize it was her because she used her married name. She told me that she wanted her television fixed because she just got home from the hospital with her new baby and needed some entertainment, but was very concerned about the cost because she didn't have much money.

Like any new mother, Sandy was justly proud of her baby, and asked me to guess how old she was. Turns out that she was only three days old, and Sandy seemed to be proud of that too.

I moved away before the summer was over, but I have often wondered how that situation worked out. Did she become the dutiful wife and mother to raise a bunch of kids, or did she go back to meekly servicing anyone who asked? I'll never know but often wondered.

To be continued...