The Mix-Up Ch. 02

~~~~~

The next day, down by the Arkansas River in a freshly mowed field, throngs of handsomely dressed people meandered to lawn chairs spread six feet apart. The Governor strode to the podium and tapped the microphone, flashing his signature grin to the crowd.

"I didn't say this project would be quick or easy, and trust me, working with Jim, it hasn't," he said, winking at a nearby Park Ranger. "But today we're here to honor seven years of challenging work and effort to dedicate Fourche Creek Bottoms as our newest state park. So many hours of clean-up and work by our state's biologists to preserve this critical area for endangered species -"

"Oh my god!" a woman yelled. The audience gasped, and the Governor looked over his shoulder. On a bridge a couple hundred yards behind him, bulging bags of trash splashed into the water, loose paper and plastic fluttering down like snow in a snow globe.

The usually God-fearing Governor mouthed what the fuck...

Of course, Lester Burns had no clue some fancy event was going on downriver of one of his favorite dumping spots. Freshly unemployed, he didn't have much better to do. He bent over into his backseat, his hairy crack mooning the crowd as he grabbed video tapes by the armful. He hesitated for a moment; they'd been with him for many years. By now, they felt like old friends. He remembered the good old days when he and his brother would watch them together in his RV, their hands stuffed down their pants. He hadn't seen Leon in ages. He smirked at the tape at the top of his heap.

E.T. The Extra Testicle

Unfortunately, recently a rat made residence in his car and ripped the tapes apart in building its nest. Years of spilled sodas and KFC grease turned them into a stinking, sticky mess which wasn't so bad to Lester, who barely registered the smell, until while driving he'd hear things scurrying around in the backseat, to which he'd yell "Shut up back there!" Two of the long-tailed creatures escaped his car and scurried toward the pristine park below.

Lester walked to the edge of the bridge and shoved dozens of tapes into the water below, now vaguely aware of the voices downriver.

"What a twit!"

"Go get him!"

By the time a copy of Robocock washed into the hands of one of the Governor's staffers, flashing blue lights surrounded Lester's Chevette.

Lester raised his hands in surrender, his jaw agape.

"Shit."

By the time he waded through the stern government officials and their scolding, his stomach groaned. He hadn't eaten for three hours. He didn't remember all they said, only he'd gotten a $2,000 fine and had to move his RV from its usual spot by the river or face jailtime. That wasn't something he wanted to experience again. To pay the fine, he needed a job.

Tearing through old KFC meals in his car and licking his grease-stained fingers, he found an old phonebook and began calling for handyman jobs. The few that responded quickly hung up due to Lester's demand for immediate pay and food. Cursing about capitalist bastards, he drove to KFC to dumpster dive when a food deliverer hustled by with several meal boxes.

That was it!

The pandemic made food delivery a huge business, and coupled with a major driver shortage, every applicant was immediately hired. A phone call later, he was asked his uniform size. They'd figure that out later. The first couple deliveries were fine, but by the fifth or so, the delicious aroma of fried chicken and burgers had him peeking into the food boxes as he drove. What harm would it do to try a French fry, he figured, opening the box and gazing at its scribbled name on top.

"I'm the one bustin' my ass for you anyway, Daphne. Only fair I get somethin' out of it," he said, shoving French fries into his mouth. Before long he'd devoured her whole meal, grease dripping down his stubbly chin. He threw various food items into her box from others and licked his fingers. Upon reaching Daphne's office, he waddled away from her as quickly as possible, but the damage was done. His boss called him to say another complaint, and he'd be fired.

By 5 PM, Lester slumped against his seat, exhausted. He'd never had a workday with so much work: three whole hours. His eyes closed before his final delivery of the day. Before long he snored loudly, his big gut crammed against the steering wheel and honking the horn every raspy breath.

~~~~~

Meanwhile, Gary stared out the pharmacy drive thru window unable to comprehend why his order was taking so long. Weeknights were slow, so he studied every passing car with interest. It'd been twenty minutes since any cars had pulled in, so he retrieved his book from under the counter. Luckily, his boss still was out so he could sneak in moments with his prized book, The Kingdom of Arenth.

He wiped his glasses at the arrival of an old beater, a Pinto or something well before his time, which honked a couple times as the driver struggled out. By the ten minutes it took the courier to shuffle to the pharmacy front desk, Gary was pacing behind the counter.

"Food for Garrett? That you, bud?" Lester couldn't help himself as he gazed at the thin pharmacist. "Eatin' this veggie cra- er, food is why you're thin as a beanpole."

Gary stared hard at Lester, who reminded him of the human version of Jabba the Hut. His swollen face and sunken, beady eyes had Gary wondering how a person like this existed, let alone made it to old age. Gary held out his phone, showing the complaint he'd written hours ago.

"Er- sir, here's your food."

"Keep it," Gary said, locking the cabinets and wiping the counters.

"You don't need to send that e-mail to nobody," Lester said. "There was a crash outside, swear. Some bitch in a Tes - Ra knocked out the light." Satisfied with his lie, Lester lay the food on the counter and folded his arms. He knew his job and possible jailtime were on the line if he couldn't convince the little twerp to be quiet.

Gary pointed out the drive-thru at the perfectly functioning stoplight. "You mean that light?" It turned green at that moment.

"They work fast - listen here, you little..." Lester said, clenching his fists and exhaling harshly. "I got half a mind to -"

But jailtime food wouldn't do. Those meals fit in his palm, like they were trying to starve a man. Showing his jumbled mess of teeth, he extended his palms and kicked the ground. He read in Playboy that made someone seem trustworthy.

"Er - Garrett, my lady's sick, an' I can't lose this job. Let me make it up to ya." He paused for effect, or was just out of breath, fishing a few tattered bills from his dingy pockets and laying them on the counter. "Deal?"

Gary's lip rose at the piss-stained dollars on his counter. He didn't know if he should feel bad for Lester or laugh at the pathetic bribe, so he continued packing his things, refusing to look at the flabby man before him. Lester leaned heavily against the blood pressure machine, and it creaked, making the big man flinch. Gary felt a pang of remorse for Lester. It couldn't be easy going through life at 400 pounds.

"Buddy, I'll buy you a bucket of da real stuff. Put a little hair on your chest an' thicken you up."

Gary just felt bad for the man now.

"Keep your money, it's okay," Gary said, pocketing his phone. Lester whooped and patted the younger man on the shoulder, making the pharmacist recoil when a big whiff of body odor found his nose. Lester grabbed a well-worn Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue and tossed it on the counter, taking half his bills back.

"Look at the jugs on that one, need some reading material," he said. Seeing Gary cringe, he pointed at the pharmacist's book, whose cover depicted a half-clothed princess on castle ramparts. "We got the same interests, I see. Wouldn't have known it at first."

Gary's ears burned as he put on gloves and grabbed the bills. "What - no - this is high fantasy, not just women in bikinis."

"How many times you jerked off to that elf bitch? A hundred? Doesn't seem to be a lotta difference to me - only thing is you're embarrassed to admit you're like me," Lester said with a rotten smile, turning away. He shuffled out of the pharmacy hunched over the magazine.

Gary watched the Chevette pull out of the parking lot, framed by the setting sun. Lester's piggish head was illuminated orange like a jack o' lantern before disappearing in a cloud of exhaust. As Gary locked all the doors, the thought welled within him, was he like Lester, a hopeless pervert? He was afraid of the answer.

~~~~~

That night back in 204, Taryn twisted on the couch, stretching her arms above her head. None of the yoga positions she tried rid herself of the stiffness in her back from slumming it on the couch. She'd avoided her bedroom, except for the occasional attempt at packing, because of the mess the handyman shot all over it.

Pain surged through her back, and she plodded to the sink. The warm water distracted her for a moment. The lights from distant cell towers blinked endless red dots as a lonely barge sounded its horn from the river valley far away. It had to be 2 AM. Sleep wasn't easy anyway with her photoshoot coming up. She washed down one of her birth control pills with a Tylenol. Getting her usual pillow might help, she figured.

Her bedroom looked completely normal. Her lavender comforter hung off her bed, and candles covered her dresser. She suppressed a laugh thinking of how her dad wasted all day assembling them with the wrong screwdriver when it should have taken twenty minutes.

The cesspool of his lust glimmered in the faint moonlight, its milkiness both disgusting and hypnotizing. Every night it taunted her. Her painted toes carefully navigated the mess, until she stood looking back at it, pillow in hand.

She didn't know why, but the hormones flowing in her body stopped her from turning away. Her smooth stomach rose and fell a little quicker as she gazed upon the pools, which were now drying onto her floor. Taryn had to admit that for all its filthiness, the amount of cum impressed her. What does he eat to make that much? Does he just like hold it in? She snapped to, realizing she was squeezing the pillow. Making it back to the couch, she dozed off, her hand trailing her soft thighs.

Taryn woke up that morning dreaming of the sushi rolls that'd made Katsuya so well-known. It was the big day, the last day before her photoshoot. The next several hours she packed and glued her eyes to her phone, checking the Ford Models Instagram page and its hundreds of thousands of followers. She couldn't believe she'd soon be on it, front and center. She packed a little faster at the thought. By that afternoon, she slipped into her closet and dialed Amy.

"Since we aren't eating for like a hundred days, I'm going to the hot tub."

"Your invitations could use some work, Taryn."

"It's not my fault you scheduled it at 10! I'm not sure my dad will even stay up, that's late for him."

"He'll be there... it's a secret, but he was actually the one who brought up the idea."

"Aw what, really? That's just Hallmark."

By the time Amy arrived, Taryn's long hair spilled over the edge of the hot tub, her bright red swimsuit top just above the waterline. Accompanying Amy were two fit college-aged guys, rugby types, Taryn figured, who introduced themselves with firm handshakes and went off to change into their trunks.

"They literally begged to tag along," Amy said, shimmying out of her jeans.

Taryn turned to check her phone, grabbing a beer. "Think I can get buzzed in an hour? And hopefully your friends are cooler than the last few."

"Guys are just intimidated by you, T. You should've seen these two when I said you're my friend."

Taryn raised an eyebrow. "Men always talk a big game."

"Until they meet you. I've never seen Mark less than 100% confident until I showed him your Insta."

"Amy, I love ya, but maybe don't show me off to strangers? That hasn't worked out well lately." If only she knew.

"Ah right - he followed you on Insta ages ago and sent you a few messages."

Taryn shrugged. "I have like 21,000 followers; I don't always keep up."

The two men returned and plopped into the hot tub across from the girls, and the group chatted away, with Amy nudging Taryn to get her more engaged. It wasn't easy. She'd seen a million Marks and Dillons before. Confident, attractive guys, who played the role of a charmer, flashing easy smiles and a modicum of intelligence expecting to get laid.

They littered her DMs with obscure references to her pictures. What's your dog's name? What college are you going to? Oh, you've been to the Bahamas too, funny you did because I..."

God, the incessant social media flirting bored her. She needed to knock back some beers to stay sane. Dillon was saying something about transferring to UT Law School when Taryn reached for a can behind him, brushing her chest against his shoulder. He sputtered through his next few words. His bullshit façade was broken, and Taryn smirked, carefully placing her hair in a ponytail. After that, Mark could scarcely drum up the courage to raise his eyes at her.

After a few more minutes, Amy snatched her phone. "Oh shit, I gotta go. Can't be rolling into Katsuya looking like this. Well boys, why don't we let T get ready?" she said, clapping them both on the knees. The group said their goodbyes and left Taryn alone to enjoy the pulsating hot water against her back.

Long shadows fell over the hot tub as the sun descended. The light poles around it displayed none of their usual cheery glow - burnt bulbs and faulty circuits unrepaired that week left Taryn in growing dark. Her eyelids grew a little heavy. She'd already built a little beer can pyramid and wondered where to put the fourth can.

The daily pills she took sent hormones through her blood that stirred her. Gently at first. She couldn't explain why she acted like she did. Like using her body to intimidate Mark or Dillon, whatever his name, into silence.

It was so relaxing that she opened her thighs slightly, touching beneath her bikini bottoms.

The blonde scanned around her, the darkness and hot water swirling around her and covering her like a warm blanket, hiding her from the world. Her fingers slipped between her toned thighs, caressing her outer folds in gentle rhythm. The slight movements didn't register outside the bubbling water.

Her eyes opened to the moon above. I shouldn't do it here.

~~~~~

Lester's elephantine legs crushed through the woods outside the apartment complex. Shirtless and carrying a bar of soap, he had a blanket wrapped around his waist until it snagged on a hundred limbs and he dropped it, continuing in his torn whitey tighties. He emerged from the trees and snuck along the edges of buildings and cars until he reached the pool complex.

He leaned against the fence gasping for breath. Enough restaurant employees and customers complained to his boss about his body odor that he was given an ultimatum: wash up or lose his job. Lester was a stubborn man, but not so stubborn to skip his littering fine and go to jail. So, he began his crossing of the Rubicon, to cross the vast forest and dunk himself in the swimming pool, which fit him easiest since he no longer could rinse in the river, and to wash with soap he'd stolen from a Pizza Hut bathroom.

He cursed punching in the security code, with his fingers mashing three buttons at once.

"Musta been designed for soy boys!"

Always in good spirits after dissing his rivals, his mood rose further when he spotted a blonde ponytail dangling from the hot tub. He stumbled behind a bush, nearly knocking over a trash can. Peering through the leaves, Lester absentmindedly wiped drool pooling on his chin at the sight before him. Even in the fading light, her navel ring glinted as it softly rose and fell with her breathing.

Tara Addington! Or Tiara? He didn't care. What was she doing? She must be asleep because her eyes were closed. He'd completely forgotten about the swimming pool. The idea of cuddling up to her in the quaint hot tub was an opportunity not to be missed.

Her eyes jolted open when Lester hurled himself into the hot tub, sloshing a third of the water out and sending beer bottles clanking. The mini tsunami nearly swamped her and forced her to sit up, but her hand remained under her bottoms, still trying to find that one pleasureful sensation. One last empty beer bottle rolled on the concrete before coming to a halt.

His mouth split into a grin, if you could call it that, his teeth like fallen Jenga blocks, crisscrossed and jumbled. Bits of mud and dirt streaked his belly from his strenuous hike through the woods, the evidence of several falls. He hid the soap behind some bottles and grabbed a fresh one.

"You mind?" he asked. Seeing her incredulous stare, he gulped it down in ten seconds and burped off to the side. He did have manners, after all. "Well, what a night this is." His mammoth legs splayed slovenly, brushing against hers. She pulled her legs back, the space between them inches. She should have jumped out of the hot tub, but she was a bit worse for wear and grabbed another beer. The bubbles felt so good, her vision a blur between the lines of reality and dream.

"You know - you really--," she stopped for another sip, "-- you really should apologize for what you did, like seriously, that was so shitty of you. And a gas leak.... Like, who comes up with that?"

The churning bubbles soothed her, the frothy wash hiding the gentle movements of her fingers. The feeling between her legs hadn't gone away, even with Lester's neck fat wobbling as he spoke.

"Just wanted to investigate - it's my job, ya see, as manager -"

Taryn set her beer down. "Do you ever tell the truth?" Her finger brushed her clit, her back stiffening.

"'Course, you see--"

"And please tell me you dragged a fucking gorilla into my room. That could NOT have been one person's fucking jizz."

"Oh - jizz?" he said tentatively, as if he'd never said such a word. "I swear tha' room was clean when I left. Never know, maybe one them peepin' toms found his way 'round here."

Underwater, Lester's erection strained against his tattered underwear, so much he was sure it'd rip right through. The urge to touch it was driving him mad, and her leg brushed his. Waves of lust filled his chest. She stared at him in a way he couldn't comprehend. Was it anger, disgust - the usual reactions people had toward him?

"Mhmm, right. How is that job going for you?"

He frowned. How much did she know?

"They didn't seem so happy with you in the office, but hey - what do I know? Oh yeah - what was SO hot about my floor? Like I - I get that during sex a guy cums, but seriously what the hell man? Floors do it for you?"

The friction ebbed and flowed between her legs with every movement of her hand. The undulating pressure, warm and urgent, spread to her core like a pulsing wave to her hips. Bubbles churned around her, obscuring the slight rhythm of her hips pressing against her fingers, the stickiness apparent even underwater.

"Like I said - uh - uh peepin' toms are a big problem," Lester said, his eyes dropping to her chest. "Er - what's that behind you?"

She halfway gazed backward through her hooded eyes, seeing Lester hurriedly stuff his hand underwater. Already at the brim of the hot tub, water sloshed out with the incursion of his thick t-bone sized fist. The angle of his arm was obvious - there was no question what Lester was up to.

"Er- must have been a rat."

Taryn stared at him in the darkness, the occasional flicker of light from the dilapidated light poles reflecting off his pale skin. God what a poor excuse of a man. So pathetic. Her breathing quickened as she rubbed herself harder, two fingers now, tortuously brushing against her clit. Her heaving chest rose above the water, inviting Lester's beady eyes to drink them in.