What Goes Around

"Beth - is Beth here today? Um...she has my bike. It's around the side of the building, I think."

"Oh. Yeah, she's here but I think she's still on her lunch break. She usually goes down to the park for 'lunch' with her fiancé - if you know what I mean," she said with a wink.

"Oh um... okay, well could you tell her I was here? Destiny?"

"Sure will. You have a good day now."

It amazes me that as I relive that fateful day several decades later, my blood still boils and mixes with the pain in my chest. Anyway, I remember turning to leave the Piggly Wiggly in a trance and walking around the side of the building to retrieve my bike, confused.

Engaged? I began to question if our brief weekend rendezvous ever really happened. I pulled my bike from the rusty old rack as my mind worked overtime, struggling to deny what had become painfully clear. I started pedaling toward the park, but instead decided to turn around, unwilling and unable to accept the obvious. Now my head was throbbing in synch with my sore ankle, of which I was reminded every time I pedaled. As I rode toward the trailer park, the disjointed facts kept spinning around in my brain but slowly began falling into place - Jed's truck in the lot, Beth's lukewarm phone call, her reluctance to help me with the sabotage, and even her lack of shoes or towel at the lake. I guessed that her things were tucked away in Jed's pickup truck. After all, who goes without shoes or a towel at a gravelly swimming spot? What was I to her? What purpose did I serve? Was I just a dare?

To say I was crushed was probably the understatement of the decade. I admit that during that final mile along the shoulder of the road, I almost hoped that I would have been put out of my misery by an inattentive driver, sideswiped and left for dead - not unlike the possums and other roadkill that I had passed along the way. Instead, I pedaled forward - alone again both physically and emotionally. I realized as I reached the trailer park entrance that I had been sobbing, and I stopped by the bank of mailboxes in an effort to compose myself before returning home, not that anyone would have noticed. I wiped my tears and runny nose with my sweaty forearm and pulled the mail from the bin before pedaling down the road, sniffling back the tears. Along with the emotional pain came the sudden realization that Jed would know it was me who damaged his truck. Part of me wondered if Beth could keep that secret, but I knew that I had to prepare for the worst, whatever that may be.

Before I reached home, I stopped and propped my bike up against one of the few trees. I sat down along the side of the road and the tears again formed. I absentmindedly shuffled through what was likely several days' worth of mail. After all, it was easy to ignore the various bills. We rarely if ever received any good mail, so why rush to the box every day? As usual, there were a few pieces of errant mail, including two that were labeled for 'Ms. Lucy Rae ______.' I was actually relieved to have something to take my mind off of Jed and Beth, and my thoughts briefly shifted to Lucy and my recent fantasy. The tears dried up and I sat there on the dirty ground with the mail spread out in front of me. I separated Lucy's mail from ours and mounted the bike, wondering if I had the nerve to hand-deliver it. I could almost hear my heart beating while pedaling the short distance down the gravel road. I propped my bike against the side of the trailer before entering and dropping our mail on our sticky kitchen counter, then made a quick stop in the bathroom to wash my face and brush my hair. I took a reluctant glance in the mirror, afraid of what I might see. The soft, almost cute face that peered back at me looked nothing at all like the cold, hardened and unloved person that I had suddenly become. I smacked myself across my cheeks to snap out of it, faked a smile and gathered Lucy Rae's mail, suddenly confident and now determined to hand-deliver it to her.

One of her younger kids was playing in the dirt as I approached the trailer.

"Is your mom home?"

He just nodded and kept playing.

"Can you get her for me please?"

He rolled his eyes and stood, motioning for me to follow him and not bothering to hold the screen door open for me. I entered the small screened in porch but stopped short of following him into the trailer as he screamed out, "MOM! Some lady's here for ya! MOM!"

Lady? How old did this kid think I am, I wondered? As I waited, I glanced around and was surprised to see an easel propped up near the corner of the small porch, with various widths of charcoal pencils on a table beside it. Curiosity got the better of me, and I took a few steps toward it. On the easel was a rough sketch of a tricycle lying on its side in the weeds, abandoned. Despite it being incomplete, the detail was remarkable, and I felt a sadness welling up in me as I viewed it.

I was snapped back to reality by the sound of the screen door, and the boy mumbled, "Mom's in the shower. She'll be out when she's done."

I nodded and he quickly abandoned me as he ran off of the porch and went back to playing. I stared at the unfinished draft, wondering who had the talent to draw such an intriguing piece of 'art.' On the floor next to the easel was a worn sketch pad, curled up in the corner and weather-stained as if it was discarded without a thought. My curiosity got the better of me, and after a quick glance back at the door I reached down, gathered it up and sat down as I opened it. My mouth opened in astonishment as I paged through the sketch pad. In it was a treasure trove of drawings ranging from simple settings and traditional fruit bowls to much more detailed portraits, many of whom I recognized as Lucy's children in various playful poses. Despite the rain damage, there was a warmth and a softness to each of the drawings along with unmistakable talent, even to my untrained eye. I turned to one of the last pages and gasped. I was staring at - me! Another unfinished charcoal sketch. In it I was sprawled in the lawn chair, legs extended lazily with my arms resting on the sides of it. I knew immediately that it had to be the weekend that my family was away, and my face reddened when it occurred to me that she must have been drawing me from inside the porch as I rested outside fantasizing about her.

"Ahem!"

I nearly dropped the sketch pad and I looked up to see Lucy Rae staring at me, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Oh, sorry. Um, I'm Destiny, you know, from across the street. We got your mail by mistake and I wanted to drop it off."

As I said it I placed the pad on the table, suddenly embarrassed at having been caught. I looked up at her sheepishly, and her face softened.

"Thanks. Probably just bills anyway," she smirked dismissively.

"I...I'm sorry that I peeked at the sketches. They're... amazing," I stammered but got no response.

"Did YOU draw them." I finally asked, trying hard not to stare at her as she stood at the entrance.

I felt my pulse racing. My fantasy woman was directly in front of me, freshly showered and wearing only a light robe, tied at the waist but not quite pulled closed. Her dark wavy hair was still wet, and she appeared to be unaware that her generous cleavage was exposed. Her big brown eyes were mesmerizing.

"Yeah, but they suck," she finally said. "I thought I threw that pad out. I guess not."

"I don't think they suck. I mean, I think they're...incredible."

"I wish my old professor would have thought so. He pretty much told me I had no talent."

"Oh, your professor? Where did you go? By the way, I'm sorry but he sounds like a total dick!"

She laughed, almost snorting, before replying, "Yeah, he really was, but he was honest enough to let me know I'd never make it as an artist."

She opened her mouth to say something more, but caught herself and withdrew, curling her lips tightly as if to keep a secret from somehow escaping without her will.

As I watched her, I sensed her drifting back to a painful point in her life - a traumatic crushing of her dream - and I suddenly felt sorry for her.

"Well, you know what they say. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," and to lighten the mood, I heard myself blurting out, "and screw that old coot anyway!"

She cracked a smile, and hesitated before saying, "I have some better ones, at least I think they're better - if you want to see them."

I smiled and nodded.

"I would really like that," I said, wondering if she realized that I saw her last drawing.

"Wait here, okay? I mean, my place is a mess. Want something to drink," she asked as she turned to re-enter her trailer.

"Um, no...I'm good," I heard myself saying as I spied her curves under the robe.

I heard her fumbling around, asking herself where she put the drawings. While she rummaged, my imagination took over. I had to shift in my seat, realizing that my pussy was drenched through my sheer panties at the nasty thoughts creeping into my head. In my mind, I followed her into the trailer and into her bedroom, watching as she bent over to look through the bottom drawer of her dresser. Her short robe exposed her generous, muscular thighs and I felt myself salivating as I watched. In my fantasy, I slowly got down on my knees and crawled over until I stopped just behind her, inches from her firm ass.

Without her turning around, she quietly asked, "Well? What are you waiting for, an invitation?"

Frozen behind her, I watched her bring her hands back and slowly pull her robe up, exposing her bubble butt and mound from behind. I eased closer on my knees and she dropped the robe down over my head as I pressed my face against her full ass. I felt her rocking back against my willing face. My nose pressed against her asshole, almost penetrating it. Her legs parted and she held on to the top of the dresser.

"Lick me, Destiny!" I felt my tongue escaping beyond my lips, and pasting down the dark hair around her delectable pussy at long last, before...

"Here they are. I knew they were here somewhere," I heard her saying from inside the trailer. Snapped back to reality, I was forced to abandon the delicious fantasy - for now.

She bounded back to the porch and pulled a cheap white resin chair up directly across from me.

"These are some of my favorites," she said as she handed me the rolled-up sketches individually.

"Be honest, okay? But not TOO honest," she said, smiling nervously.

I unrolled the first one and an old water tower came into view, with several boys perched at the top and their legs dangling from the edge, probably at least seventy-five feet from the ground.

"Wow, Lucy," was all I could muster.

I gently rolled it back up and reached for the next one. Lucy had her right leg folded and tucked at a ninety-degree angle under her left thigh. I followed her other leg down to her calf, then to her foot which barely touched the floor. Her toenails appeared to be recently pedicured, and I realized that my long-held perception of her couldn't have been more wrong. In that seated position, unknown to her, I was shocked to get a glimpse of her dark triangle under her robe. I tried hard not to stare as she handed me another sketch.

"So, do you really like what you see or are you just saying that to be polite?"

With the vision of her pussy in my mind I bit my tongue. If she only knew how much I loved what I saw! Instead, I just nodded and said, "I love them, Lucy. Your professor was SO wrong about you." Then I had to ask, "Did you graduate with an arts degree then?"

She looked out in the distance as she reflected on it before answering. I took that opportunity to get another peek between her legs, but to my dismay her pussy was no longer in view.

"I um, I got pregnant with Danny in my sophomore year, so I had to leave. I tried to re-enroll a few times but life just got in the way, so here I am, living in this damned cesspool. Not exactly how I thought I would end up."

"Yeah, sometimes I wonder what's going to happen to me too. I mean, I kinda feel like everything is stacked against me," I said, feeling the tears starting to well up again.

"You're young, you're pretty and I can tell you're really smart, Destiny. You can escape, really."

"I don't see how. I mean, none of my family ever went to college. My brothers barely even graduated from high school. I guess I do okay grade-wise but I don't think I'm college material. Plus, we could never afford it anyway."

"Well, maybe you'll meet a rich guy, fall in love and live the dream...You never know!"

"Yeah, maybe, but not here. Not in this little town," I replied and she nodded in agreement.

She shared a few more sketches with me while we relaxed on the porch. I longed for another glimpse of her hidden treasure, but she shifted in her seat and my opportunity was lost. Still, that vision was one that I would never forget. Unlike my prior fantasy where she had a thicker bush, reality was different - and better. She was much more neatly trimmed than I expected, but still had a nice dark patch which I imagined was dying to be licked. I rarely went a day without tasting myself and I found myself wondering if we all tasted like I do or if there was some variety.

Despite the fantasy and the allure of that beautiful pussy in front of me, I realized that I had grossly underestimated Lucy Rae. She wasn't trailer trash. Far from it, she was an educated, articulate and talented artist. She exuded sexuality but was oblivious to it. I almost couldn't wait to get home to continue with my fantasy.

Just then, the screen door opened and two of her kids paraded past us.

"Hi to you too," she said sarcastically and smiled at me before gathering up her rolls of art.

"I guess I better start supper, but feel free to come by and visit the next time you're in the neighborhood," she said kiddingly, since we lived just a stone's throw from each other.

As I got up to leave, she added, "Remember, you're better than this place. WE'RE better than this place, okay?"

I nodded and marveled at how quickly my emotions oscillated, from the traumatic realization that Jed and Beth were a "thing," to experiencing this wonderful human being - all in just a couple of hours' time.

When I crossed the path and entered our trailer, my oldest brother was laying across the couch with a beer in his hand.

"Your slutty friend called a few times. Should I tell her to fuck off?"

I wrinkled my nose. "Who?"

"You know, Beth? The one that we all passed around a couple years ago? She called. Told me to tell you to call her. Something about your bike I think."

"Whatever, thanks."

I retreated to my room and although I was determined to put the morning's events behind me, I also knew that I needed to find out where I stood - correction, where Beth and I stood - with the truck damage. If Jed found out, I didn't want to be looking over my shoulder and wondering if and when he was going to come after me or my family.

I went back into the living room and bummed a beer off of my brother. Even though I couldn't stand the taste, I drank it down and grabbed another.

"Jesus Christ, Destiny. Slow down! Dad will beat your ass if he sees you drinking."

I shrugged, not caring anymore before grabbing the phone and pulling it along with me into the next room, glad for the extra-long cord and the only privacy that was possible. My fingers trembled as I dialed her number, and I felt hollow when she picked up.

"H'Lo?"

"It's... it's me, just um, returning your call."

"Oh, Destiny... Um, hi. I just wanted to make sure you got your bike today and everything."

Silence as I considered my words, then, "Yup, it's here."

"Okay, well... Anyway, I'm sorry I missed you. Maybe you got here a little earlier than I thought."

"Yeah, maybe. No problem."

More silence.

I knew I should have just hung up, but after two quick beers I was feeling bold.

I blurted out, "So, does your fiancé know?"

"What? Does he know what?"

"Does your fucking fiancé know, Beth?"

"Oh, about what? About this weekend?"

"Yeah, about this fucking weekend! Jesus Christ! Does he know?"

"No - I told you, it's our secret, okay?"

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I sniffled.

"The truck thing, I mean."

"Yeah, both things. Our secret. I promise. I was in on it too, you know."

"Okay then, good."

"Destiny, it's not what you think. 'm..."

I hung up, not giving her a chance to finish her comment. I didn't need to hear that she was sorry, or any other excuses. I just needed to know that Jed wasn't coming after me. I was still a bit tipsy from the couple of beers, so I wandered back into my tiny bedroom, plopped myself down onto my twin bed and allowed my thoughts to drift back to my happy place with Lucy Rae. I imagined my face pressed against her from behind once again, with her robe still covering my head. She reached back to press me tighter against her butt as she spread her legs, allowing me total access. I should have been grossed out at having my nose pressed against her tight hole, but it only fueled my desire for her and my urge to please her. Just outside the window, we had a clear view of her youngest son playing in the dirt, so there was no chance of being caught in the act. My wet tongue found her folds and I flattened it against her pussy in an attempt to feel the entire length at the same time. In my mind, her juices were already covering my chin and cheeks, and it drove me totally wild.

I used the tip of my tongue to lightly tickle her clit and imagined a deep moan escaping from her lips. As I had done many times in the past, I removed my own shorts and panties while I fantasized. I brought my sheer soaking panties to my face and rubbed the wetness - Lucy's juices in my mind - across my cheeks and chin. I was desperate to adjust my position, but I didn't want to release my tongue from its target. Eventually I slid onto my back and reached up to pull Lucy down onto my waiting face. She was reluctant at first, but when I grabbed her hips with both hands and tried to force her lower, she eventually allowed her entire weight to rest on me. As I envisioned this, I felt the warmth building down below and I knew I was only seconds away from cumming. I parted my legs, stuffed my moist panties deep into my mouth, tensed my body and bucked wildly, suppressing a scream as I came violently. I let a final gasp escape before taking a few deep breaths and finally relaxing.

Over the next two weeks I found more than enough reasons to visit my new friend. Of course, she had no clue that I longed for her, and I fought within myself each time, ultimately unwilling to risk ruining a friendship and embarrassing myself if my advances were to be rejected. Still, my fantasies involving her could not be denied, and on a nightly basis I wove my thoughts around our prior visits to the point where at times I struggled to figure out which were real and which were only a dream.

One night, a few weeks after I went back to school for my senior year, I stopped by to say hi and found Lucy Rae seated in her flimsy white resin chair. She had a red plastic cup dangling from her hand. Beside her was a half-empty bottle of white zinfandel wine. She looked as if she had been crying, and I suddenly felt as if I was imposing.

"I can come back if now is a bad time," I said, concerned.

Lucy sniffled, took another sip from her cup, brushed away a tear and motioned for me to sit down.

She looked over and smiled weakly. "I'd offer you some, but your dad would probably strangle me."

"That's okay. I have some homework to do later; otherwise I would sneak some," I said.

We sat quietly and as she refilled the cup, I finally asked, "Lucy, what's wrong?"

She sniffled again and took a sip before saying quietly, "I'm just a trainwreck."