What Goes Around

"No you're not. Why ... why would you say that, Lucy?"

"I just AM. Look at me."

"I AM looking at you and you're...incredible."

"You're probably the only person in this world who thinks so. If you only knew..."

"Only knew what, Lucy? It's okay. I'm here if you want to talk."

She fidgeted with her cup before setting it on the table next to the bottle. I could tell that she wanted to say something, but was struggling to form the words. I just sat quietly and reached out to take her hand. It occurred to me that this was the same position we were in when she inadvertently gave me a glimpse of her pussy a few weeks ago.

She looked at our hands as I gently held it. "It's okay, Lucy."

Finally, she looked into my eyes. "Don't judge me, okay Destiny?"

"Of course not, what's going on?"

"I...I didn't tell you everything back when you asked about college, and my drawings."

"That's okay, really." I waited, allowing her to gather her thoughts. I could tell that she needed to get something off of her chest, but I didn't want to press her.

"My professor? The one I told you about?" She looked at me like a lost puppy dog as she asked.

"Yep, the old coot. I remember," I smiled.

"He...well, he wasn't THAT old. He was only six or seven years older than me."

"Oh," was all I could say, unsure where the conversation was going to lead.

"I had his class in my second semester. He, I guess he took me under his wing pretty quickly, along with a few other students."

She continued. "It's a long story, but I got too close too soon. I guess it was like when you ... fall for your therapist. I think there's a name for it. We all admired him, and he even invited a few of us to his apartment a couple of times to talk about art, school and just hang out."

She continued. "During one of the get-togethers, someone lit up a joint in his living room, and I remember thinking our professor was going to kick him out, but instead he just reached out, took it between his fingers and smoked it. It got passed around, and when it got to me I looked at him. He nodded encouragement, so I took a drag and passed it along."

She sighed as she reminisced. "Drugs were everywhere in the seventies. One of the students that I didn't know said something about acid, and a few of them went into the bathroom with her. My professor took a bottle of wine from the kitchen and poured us each a cup."

She looked down at the red cup in her hand, "Actually, it was a red cup, just like this one. Anyway, I wasn't an angel. I was a follower, so I drank and I smoked with the others in the living room..."

She stopped and took another sip from her cup, suddenly hesitant to continue.

"It's okay, Lucy."

"Anyway, I woke up in the middle of the night and had no clue where I was. It was dark, and I realized that I was naked from the waist down. When my eyes adjusted to the darkness I realized I was still in his apartment. I turned onto my stomach and started feeling around for my clothing by the side of the bed when I felt someone behind me. I was still a combination of drunk and high. I remember saying 'no' to him a few times, but he didn't stop. He ... you know, he pressed against me and told me it to 'just relax.' I still feel guilty about it to this day, but at the time, I wanted it. I wanted HIM."

I watched her eyes, and could tell that she was mentally back in that apartment, reliving it. I moved my chair over next to her and wrapped my arms around her.

"It's okay, Lucy."

Her hand reached to touch my forearm as I held her gently.

"The next morning, he acted like nothing happened. He half-heartedly offered me breakfast while he walked around in his bare feet, swearing at the mess while emptying ashtrays. He avoided my eyes, and I could tell that he wanted me out of there, but I didn't sense any guilt in his eyes. I think I realized then that I was just one of his conquests. I tried to hug him before leaving, but he gave me one of those flimsy 'one arm' half-hugs instead."

"I'm so sorry, Lucy," I said as I hugged her tighter and reached up to gently stroke her hair as she continued.

"Thanks. Anyway, it wasn't like he was my 'first.' By that time I already had a couple of boyfriends, and I can't even say that he forced himself on me that night. It was consensual. I mean, when I left I did feel used and pissed off, but I wasn't traumatized."

She set the cup down and rested her head on my shoulder, then quietly continued.

"I knew pretty quickly that he wasn't my knight in shining armor, and I accepted it. I kept going to class, and he treated me the same way throughout the semester that he treated everyone else. When the class ended, he invited several of us to his apartment for a 'goodbye.' Against my better judgement, I forced myself to show up, not expecting anything but also not wanting to come across as the scorned lover."

I listened as I tried to ignore the warmth that was building in me from the touch of this incredible woman. I kept stroking her hair and my left leg was now pressed against her right leg as I leaned in to comfort her.

"Anyway, it was more of the same. Pot, other assorted drugs, excursions into side rooms, some students pairing off and disappearing, then returning to the main room..."

"It was getting late, and there were maybe eight of us sitting in a circle on the floor, passing bottles and a couple of joints. We were laughing at the most trivial things and just enjoying the end of the semester when my professor started critiquing us individually, trying to be funny."

Without thinking, she took my hand and gave it a light kiss before resting it in hers again, settling both into her lap. She started sniffling, and I was now trapped - torn between being a caring friend or a horny sexual partner. I had visions of the angel on my left shoulder and the devil on my right. Despite my desire for her, I knew she needed a friend first. The angel won the battle - this time, but who would win the war?

"What happened, Lucy?"

She broke down again in tears, but composed herself enough to continue.

"It was all harmless ribbing and kidding. He picked on the kids in the circle, one at a time, but everyone was being a good sport, knowing that he was drunk and high. Then he finally got to me, and in a deep exaggerated southern drawl, he looked into my eyes while taking a swig of tequila, and said, 'and my sweet little southern gal, honey, I can't figure out which was more boring - your art projects or your fucking'."

I hugged her tighter, appalled by what I heard. How could anyone be that cruel, no matter how drunk they may have been? With that single cruel comment, it's no surprise that she was shattered beyond repair.

"Everyone got quiet after hearing it. I think it took me a few seconds for it to sink in. Did he actually say what I thought he said? To make it worse, a couple of the kids started snickering, then laughing, while some of them just sat there, numb like me. I felt my insides being torn apart, and my world shattered around me in that instant. I was so humiliated, but I tried to keep my composure. I bit my lip and just allowed it to happen. Everything got hazier until I woke up on the floor a few hours later, gathered my things and left."

As she shared the horror story, I felt my blood boiling once again. How could anyone be so cruel, so vicious?

"It took everything I had to go back in the fall. With his words still ringing in my ears, I dropped my major and my art classes, but I only lasted a few weeks before dropping out. I couldn't bear the thought of running into that asshole again. In the meantime, I got pregnant with Danny, and the rest is history."

I thought to myself, no wonder she is drinking and broken. Despite our age difference I felt the need to protect her, and admittedly to defend her.

I heard myself asking, "What's his name? The professor, I mean? Is he still teaching?"

"The last I heard, he was like twenty miles away at the Cryden Art Institute in the city, but I really don't know if he's still there. His name? Tim ________."

I made a mental note, and I felt the devil on my shoulder quickly shifting from a sexual focus to a vengeful one. Despite my anger, I also felt an excitement welling up inside of me, not unlike the feelings I had after sabotaging Jed's truck.

"Lucy, you know he was just a drunk asshole, right? I mean, look around you at your drawings. You HAVE to know how good they are, don't you?"

She hesitated as I released her from my hug and gave her a chance to breathe, before saying, "Can I tell you something very personal?"

"Of course."

"I hadn't drawn anything since leaving school that semester, until..."

"Until?"

She looked at me sheepishly.

"Never mind, I shouldn't have said anything," she said, blushing.

"Well, now you HAVE to tell me!"

Lucy hesitated, reached down to take another sip from her red cup, then blurted out, "YOU were my inspiration, in a way."

"Me? How do you mean?"

"Sorry if this sounds creepy, but last year around this time you were blowing bubbles with one of the kids down the street, remember?"

"Oh yeah, that was fun. I remember," I said, now confused but intrigued. I needed to hear more.

"Well, it looked like you were having so much fun with them, my mind just imagined capturing the playfulness in black and white. I guess I got the itch, in a way. A couple of days later I went down to the craft show and bought that old used easel and a charcoal set, and off I went. All of these drawings were done since then."

"Wow, you did all of those in less than a year?"

She nodded.

"Why would you think that was creepy?"

"I dunno. I guess a middle-aged woman watching from a screened-in porch, then drawing you without you knowing it. Kinda creepy, right?"

"I'm actually flattered," I blushed as I said it. Our legs were still touching and I felt like she was pressing a little bit harder against me.

"You're a great subject. To be honest, I did another one of you a few weeks ago."

"Confession time for me now. I already saw THAT one in the sketch book. You made me a lot prettier in the sketch though, so thanks for that," I said kiddingly.

"Well, that's kinda how I see you, so... there," Lucy said and leaned against me, smiling.

My heart fluttered. Could she actually be feeling what I'm feeling? I was suddenly a combination of nerves and desire. I felt her leaning against me, and we were still holding hands. Finally, I turned to look at her and I read a longing in her eyes as we sat together on the screened-in porch, hidden from view.

"Lucy," I whispered quietly. Her eyes closed and I knew we were moments away from a life-changing kiss. I felt it, and it was real this time, not just some silly fantasy.

At just the wrong moment, the screen door flew open, and with it our opportunity escaped through it. Two of her kids raced past us, again not bothering to even look our way. We both retreated, again putting a comfortable distance between us. As our hands parted, I wondered briefly if it was an interruption from a higher power or just really bad timing. The story of my life, I thought to myself. Had I just spared myself from embarrassment or did we miss a perfect opportunity to take our friendship to another level? I tried to read her, but she was clearly snapped back into reality, and the spell was broken. She picked up the nearly empty bottle along with the red cup, offered a brief apology and excused herself as she followed the kids into the house. As I walked the short distance back to my trailer, thoughts of revenge filled my head. That professor derailed her life, and I knew I wouldn't be able to let it go. I began conjuring up scenarios for him ranging from property destruction to physical harm. Later that night as I rested on my back, looking up at the ceiling, the thoughts again surfaced and I wondered if I was simply wired in such a way that a little bit of heroic sadism was present somewhere in my DNA.

I will spare you most of the details since this is meant to be erotica and not a true crime novel, but I can share that I formulated more than a few diabolical solutions. I considered setting him up in some way, possibly with an underaged student and some revealing photos, but I dismissed it for obvious reasons. Then I thought about somehow convincing Jed and Billy Jo to take care of him, but they were loose cannons, and I certainly didn't want to be a partner in their crimes. As much as I wanted to avenge the wrongdoing, and as delicious as it was to fantasize about the ways to get him back, I knew that my conscience wouldn't allow me to participate in any plan to physically hurt him, so those thoughts were dismissed entirely. After all, I was damaged, but not pure evil for God's sake!

Thinking back, it would have been so much easier if the internet and social media existed back then. Instead, my generation of degenerates was forced to be much more creative in our plans for retribution. I admit that I was at a loss for an appropriate punishment until I spotted a billboard on the way to school:

HAVE YOU SEEN ME? ANONYMOUS TIP LINE 1-800-XXX-XXXX

PUNCH IN CASE # 1989-17B

Below it was an age-enhanced photo of the woman who had been missing for several years along with her date of birth, which would have placed her in her early twenties at the time. The rumor was that Jed and/or Billy Jo had something to do with her disappearance, but not surprisingly they tended to be blamed for everything that went wrong in our county. I mentally noted the phone number and began hatching my plan. That night I borrowed our car and again drove past the billboard, then continued to the college town. I passed several pay phones before turning down a street just a few blocks from Cryden. Spotting a pay phone hanging from the side of an abandoned mini-market, I pulled into the lot and glanced around before slowly exiting the car. My hands were trembling as I practiced a variety of disguised voices before settling on one that made me sound older and more "northern." Not taking any chances, I put on my gardening gloves before picking up the sticky receiver from the pay phone. 1-800-XXX-XXXX. I remember that I almost chickened out when I heard the phone pick up. I entered the anonymous key signifying the crime number from the billboard. A recorded voice droned on, stating that "this conversation is being recorded and may be used in a court of law." It went on and on, stating the rights of the caller and ensuring complete anonymity. I tuned everything out as I rehearsed what I planned to say. Finally, I heard the beep, and I was on stage. I cleared my throat, then spoke in an odd accent that I could only describe as a weird mixture between a Boston and New Jersey accent:

"Yeah, um... this might be nuthin' but I heard that missing girl was spending a lot of time with an art professor a couple years ago. Tim-something, I think his name was. Anyway, like I said, maybe it's nuthin' but I wanted to um, let you know, so...bye. Um, good luck."

With that I hung up, and I hopped back into the car with my heart racing. Again I realized a bit of sexual excitement at having done something naughty. As I pulled out of the lot and turned toward home, I allowed my hand to drop down in my lap, feeding my desire. I was dying to pull over and play with myself while the situation was fresh in my mind, but there was really no discreet place in which to do it, so I was forced to wait until I got home. Of course, nothing would come of the tip, but at least it should inconvenience her professor a bit. Maybe it would even embarrass him in front of his school or his family if I was lucky. A tiny little payback, I thought - and well-deserved. I dismissed any thought that there may be another innocent "Tim" who could be harassed. Oh well, it would be just a minor casualty of war, I rationalized, but I did feel some remorse at not having thought of that previously.

I had so many new desires with which to find release. Between my near-experience with Lucy and my naughty vengeful anonymous phone call, I was ready to explode, and that night I was sure that my brothers heard me when I neglected to suppress a deep moan at the moment of truth just down the narrow hall from them.

The next afternoon when I returned from school, Lucy Rae waved and motioned me to come over. As I approached I noticed that she was dressed totally contrary to the trailer park's normal redneck dress code. I took an inventory as I admired her silently in her beige capris and black camisole, covered with a thin white unbuttoned blouse. Her sleeves were rolled up midway to her forearms. I had never seen her dark wavy hair looking so radiant. She was simply stunning.

"I have a huge favor to ask, Destiny."

"Um, okay. Anything. What's up?"

"My oldest, Danny? He's staying with his dad for the weekend."

"Oh, okay."

"So I'm kinda without a sitter, and well...I actually have a date - finally," she beamed as she told me.

My heart dropped and I felt just a tinge of jealousy, but I dismissed it and smiled weakly.

"Sure, I can hang out with your kids. I'll bring some homework over if that's okay."

"Perfect. You're a lifesaver. So... be honest. How do I look?"

"I could eat you alive," I thought to myself, but instead I nodded my approval. "Great. You look great Lucy."

"Okay, well...thanks again. If you can come over in a half hour or so it would be perfect. And Destiny, I don't have much in the fridge but you can help yourself. I'll try not to be too late."

I returned to the trailer, happy to help my friend, but realizing that we would never be a "thing." I clearly misread the 'flirtation' from a few days before, and I reluctantly chalked it up to the wine. The sparkle in her eyes when she shared that she had a date told me everything I needed to know. As painful as it felt, I knew I had to close the door on the possibility of being anything but a friend to Lucy.

Although my own family life was a mess, I always loved being around the neighborhood kids. Lucy's three children were no exception. We played tag, went down to the playground where I pushed them on the swings, then they climbed the monkey bars before we finally returned to Lucy's trailer, exhausted. I heated up macaroni and cheese and took turns reading to them before tucking them in for the night. It didn't take them long to fall asleep in their shared bedroom. I closed the door behind them and relaxed out on the porch with my homework. After finishing it, I checked on the kids and hovered around the old refrigerator before opening it. The nearly empty bottle of wine was sitting on the inside door, so I decided to reward myself with a glass as I relaxed on a recliner. I emptied the bottle into a second glass and felt myself getting tipsy before falling asleep in the darkness.

I awoke to the sound of a car's tires on gravel. It took me a few minutes before I figured out where I was, and from my vantage point I could see the car parked directly outside of the living room window with the lights turned off. I had no voyeuristic desire - especially since I longed for it to be me with Lucy, and not her date - but I couldn't resist peeking out at them. I glanced at the clock and was surprised to see that it was nearly 2am already. I again imagined myself in the car with her, and it tugged at my heart as I watched the dark figures in the front seat, clearly making out. I was forced to stop watching when the car windows became too foggy to see through. I imagined his hand under her camisole, ultimately dropping to unsnap her capris. I wondered what type of panties she was wearing, and I hoped he wasn't able to find out. It should be me, I told myself, before snapping back to hazy reality, still tipsy.

A few minutes later I heard the car door close quietly, along with some giggling as she fumbled with the screen door in the dark. Through half-closed eyes, I watched her weaving her way through the living room in the darkness, bumping things and giggling, then shushing herself.