THE TRUTH ABOUT LUCY Page 3

  He grasped her panties and savagely ripped them into two pieces. Cool air touched her pussy lips and made her shiver all over. His hand cupped her pussy. Two fingers roughly worked into her.

  “I’m going to get you ready for me, baby.”

  She hurt. His fingers were brutal. He opened her up.

  “Move that ass for me, baby,” he said. “Show me what you want. Show me you want my cock.”

  His fingers stroked in and out of her. More juices flowed, making a wet sound. She wanted him to stop. She didn’t want him to stop. Feelings went through her she had never known before.

  Like my mother, she thought. I’m a whore like my mother.

  In and out of her faster and faster, loosening her for his cock.

  “Feel what I have for you, pretty girl,” Digger said.

  He took his fingers out of her and grabbed her hand. He pressed her fingers against his hard bulge. She told him no again, but she didn’t resist. Her fingers stroked the length of him. His rigid cock jumped in his pants. It startled her and for the first time she tried to pull her hand back, but Digger did not let her go.

  “Just rub it for me, whore,” he said.

  There was a new savage, urgent sound in his voice. She sensed he was past the point of no return and there was no stopping him now. He was going to fuck her for three hundred dollars and it didn’t matter if she wanted it or not.

  The problem was she was starting to want it. Really bad. She felt achy and wet inside. She felt empty. She wanted his cock.

  She rubbed his prick more furiously until he stopped her. He undid his belt and zipper and tugged his pants to his knees. He wore boxer shorts and his cock sprang out through the opening and stabbed her thigh.

  “Now I’m going to make you earn your money, sweet piece,” he said.

  She had wanted to sell her virginity for more than three hundred dollars, but it was too late. Digger’s heavy weight rested on her again. He spread her legs painfully wide. One of her legs hung off the car seat in a cramped position but Digger cared nothing about her comfort. He dropped down on her completely, his teeth nipping at her shoulder like a wild animal.

  Over his shoulder she could see the wiper blades still working and she could hear the whoosh of the rain and a soft female voice doing a sad country ballad on the radio. Digger moved, stabbing his prick at her. He didn’t get into her with his first thrust. He reached down between them and grabbed his cock so that he could position it against the swollen entrance to pussy.

  She knew it was too late to protest anymore. She closed her eyes as he stabbed savagely into her. Her virginity wasn’t much of a barrier. He had already loosened her with his thrusting fingers and now his fat cock broke easily through her hymen and slipped inside her. He felt so big. She cried out in astonishment as she felt how deep his prick went into her.

  “Now this is what I call tight fucking pussy,” Digger groaned.

  At least he had pretended respect for her before. There was no longer any respect in his voice. He used her for his pleasure as he rested on top of her for a moment before starting a slow in and out rhythm. His fingers had not stretched her out far enough but his fat, throbbing cock finished the job of stretching her.

  He fucked her a little faster and she felt the slap of his heavy balls against her ass cheeks.

  “Don’t just lay there, bitch,” Digger groaned. “Move your ass. Show me how much you love old Digger’s cock.”

  She began bucking up against him, and somehow it felt as if cock went even deeper into her belly. She was in an uncomfortable position but each time she moved it seemed as if his cock found a new part of her. She tried to change the position of her right leg because it was cramping but Digger only changed position with her so he could thrust into her harder.

  “Come on, pretty girl,” Digger demanded. “Hump me. Hump me hard.”

  She pushed up against him, following his rhythm. The slight bucking of her hips was enough to make him even crazier. He slid his hands underneath her and picked her plump ass up off the seat and he rammed deeper and harder. She tried to match his rhythm but he was out of control.

  “Fuck,” he moaned. “Fucking sweet bitch. You are a better fuck than your Momma. Move that ass, bitch. Move it. Oh fuck.”

  He pushed into her deep one last time and his cock exploded inside her. He pulled back and slammed her again, this time knocking her head against the window of the cad. Cum was filling her. He rammed again, once more slapping the back of her head against the window.

  “Yeah, baby,” he said.

  He collapsed on top of her so lifelessly that she was afraid he had suffered a heart attack, but she could hear him breathing in her ear. His fat cock softened a little. He moved a little in and out of her, and his prick grew even softer. Finally, he groaned as his cock slipped out of her.

  Digger Wynn straightened up in his seat. She tugged her dress down and sat up. The back of her head was sore from hitting the window so hard the last time he thrust into her. Her legs felt cramped and sore.

  Digger glanced at his watch. “Hell, I’m late. I’ve got to go. Get out.”

  She looked at him in shock and hurt, but Digger took no notice. He reached across her lap and opened the door.

  “Hurry up. I’ve got to go.”

  She stepped of the car still nude from the waist up. He rolled down the window and handed out her bra. There was still a light drizzle.

  “You were good, baby,” he said. “I’ll be in touch.”

  She watched him until his car lights disappeared out of her driveway. She felt the rain running down her cheeks. She felt like crying. She didn’t have any more tears. Instead she reached into her purse and touched the folding money.

  3.

  Whore.

  Standing at the counter of the supermarket, Lucy scribbled the word on a scratch pad and then tore it off and dropped it into a nearby waste basket. She had tried so hard not to be her mother, but Digger Wynn had changed everything in a heartbeat. She took money for sex. Fort Bell was a small town and gossip spread quickly. If anyone had noticed them together, or if Digger Wynn bragged to anyone.

  And he would. She knew what men were like. They were pigs. Eventually the word would get out and other men would start coming around. She was worth only three hundred dollars to Digger Wynn. Pretty soon the price would go down.

  If only she wasn’t caring for her mother. Without her mother holding her back, she would be on a bus to somewhere, anywhere, that very afternoon.

  What really frightened her more than anything was that she had given in so easily to Digger, and later that night she kept reliving the experience. Her fingers worked frantically between her legs for most of the night, and still she couldn’t satisfy herself.

  Perhaps at heart she really was a whore.

  A customer came through and she rang them through at the cash register. The store paid minimum wage. With taxes and deductions, she barely made in a month what she had made in a half hour in the front seat of Digger’s Cadillac.

  Whore, she thought again.

  The afternoon was slow but steady. It took her mind off things. A couple of times the store owner, her boss, came to help her at the cash registers. He used every excuse to brush against her. Maxwell Jones was a tall, scrawny man, older than Digger. He had five kids at home. He disgusted her.

  She wondered if he would pay more than three hundred.

  The sudden, unexpected thought shocked and intrigued her, and made her close her thighs together in wicked excitement.

  She really was getting out of control.

  At quitting time she was alone in the store except for Maxwell. For the past forty minutes she had glanced up to find him watching her in a curious way. She tried to ignore him as she wrote up the last of her receipts and put her money in a bag and sealed bag.

  “Is the safe open?” she asked.

  “You know where it is,” he said.

  In the small office in the back she knelt and put her r
eceipts and tally sheets in the safe. She was not aware Maxwell had followed her until she stood up and backed into him. His arms went around her before she could stop him and he pulled her tight. His lips nuzzled her neck. It took by surprise and she froze for a moment, but then she violently twisted out of his arms. His hand caught in the material of her dress and ripped the sleeve a little.

  “Mr. Jones,” she said. “Have you lost your mind? Your wife is going to hear about this.”

  Maxwell Jones stepped back as if she had struck him. He grew deathly pale.

  “All you young girls,” he stammered. “All you pretty young girls. I didn’t mean anything. I just wanted …wanted to touch.”

  “It’s not yours to touch. You make me sick. Don’t you know I can tell what you’re thinking when you stare at me?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Yeah, well I think the Sheriff might interested in what a pervert you are. Not to mention the elders of the church.”

  “Please don’t tell anyone,” he whispered.

  “And my dress is torn,” she said.

  “I’ll pay for your dress,” he said. “Just please don’t tell anyone.”

  “A hundred dollars for the dress,” she said.

  Both of them knew the dress was worth less than ten dollars, but he knew he was also paying for her silence. With a miserable expression he got down on his knees and went into the safe. In a moment he counted out a bundle of worn fives, tens and twenties into her hand.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Now how much would it be worth to you for me to take the dress off?”

  “What?” he said.

  “You can’t touch me,” she said quickly. “But you can look all you want.”

  He licked his lips. “You’ll take everything off?”

  “For the right price,” she said.

  “Another hundred dollars,” he said.

  She knew he wasn’t getting rich from running the store and he also had five kids to feed. She was tempted to ask for more but then she shrugged. How hard would it be to take her clothes off for him?

  “Give me the money,” she said. “And you remember that if anyone ever hears about this, I’ll claim that you tore my dress because you were trying to fuck me. I think people will believe me. Especially your wife.”

  He nodded. He went back in the safe and brought out more of the worn bills. She really hoped he wasn’t taking food out of the mouth of his kids. She tucked the rest of the bills into her purse.

  “Sit down in your desk chair,” she said.

  He sat meekly down, his eyes big with excitement.

  She slipped out of her penny loafers and moved a little closer to him in her bare feet. She did not get close enough for him to touch.

  She began undressing. She did it slowly. She unbuttoned her dress and slipped it off her shoulders. With a shrug, she let it fall to the floor. She had nothing underneath but a white bra and panties. She had no fancy lingerie. She reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. She held the bra cups for a moment with a teasing smile, and then she let it fall to the floor. He gasped. He looked as if he wanted to spring out of his chair and devour her like a hungry beast. She kept smiling as she eased her panties down her legs and kicked them off.

  “Do you like what you see?”

  “Oh damn,” he said.

  She turned slowly for him, giving him a good long look at both sides.

  “Please,” he said.

  “Please what,” she said.

  “Please let me touch you,” he said. “Just a little.”

  He was such a mess. Pale and trembling, he looked at her with a pleading expression. She knew she could have asked him for all the money in the safe, but she felt sorry for him. Instead she took a few steps and took his hand. She pressed his hand against her breast and felt the heat of his fingers.

  “Is this what you want?” she asked.

  He stroked her with a look of awe on his face that made her feel a shiver of pleasure. It was power, she thought. She had never had any kind of power in her life but she had power over Maxwell. It was confusing. There had been excitement when Digger took her, ravaged her, and now she felt the same excitement making Maxwell jump through hoops like a trained circus dog.

  “You want to suck it,” she said.

  Closer to him, her nipple at his lips and he gratefully sucked it between his lips. He sucked her gently as if afraid of offending her, as if she might take back what she had offered. It felt good. She stroked his hair as she sucked her. She leaned against him, pressing more of her flesh into his mouth.

  “That’s the way I like it,” she said. “Suck me good, baby. Make me feel good.”

  He began moving his lips from one large brown nipple to the other. She didn’t pull away when his arms went around and he pulled her into his lap. His lips continued to suck at her, biting a little now and sending little shivers of pleasure through her.

  She squirmed in his lap, feeling his hard prick underneath her. He groaned out loud as she rubbed her bottom on him. He sounded like he was in pain. She knew things were getting out of hand and she pushed out of his lap and away from his hands.

  “Please don’t leave me this way, Lucy,” he said. “I’m hurting.”

  “Stand up,” she said

  He stood. A stain was on the front of his pants. He was already leaking. His cock looked as if it was about to burst through his pants.

  “Take it out,” she said

  He looked confused but he quickly undid his belt and tugged his pants. Then his jockey shorts. His prick was long and thin as he was. His balls were tight little knots at the base of cum. His cock cream leaked from the tip.

  “”Put your hands on the desk,” she said.

  Again, he looked at her in confusion but he was quick to obey. He leaned over the old wooden desk.

  “Don’t you move your hands,” she said.

  Her trick had worked with Eddie, but not with Digger. It worked with Maxwell. He stood very still as she moved close and put her arm around his waist. She slipped her hand down his front and grabbed his cock. Wrapping her fingers around it, she started to stroke.

  Her fingers were immediately wet. It wasn’t going to take him long. She leaned closer, letting her breasts push against his side.

  “Oh fuck,” he groaned. “Damn, I can’t hold back.”

  He didn’t hold back. He almost collapsed as his prick spurted high into the air, his cream landing in two long lines on the desk. She gave him another short stroke and the rest of his cum leaked out.

  “Good boy,” she said.

  She had managed to keep most of it off her hands but she found a paper towel to wipe herself with and then she slowly dressed. The sickly expression had disappeared from Maxwell’s face and now he looked angry.

  “That’s a lot of money for what you did, whore,” he said savagely.

  “Oh,” I see. “I’m a whore now because you got what you wanted.”

  “Maybe you better find a new place to work,” he said.

  “You’re a poor excuse for a man,” Lucy said. “But you’re right about one thing. I am a whore. But I’m going to be an expensive one.”

  She heard him curse her as she left the office and out through the market. She had another two hundred dollars in her purse but it wasn’t enough to change her life, and now she had no job. It was possible Maxwell would give her job back once he had time to think, but she wasn’t sure she wanted it.

  She had five hundred dollars, enough money for a bus ticket somewhere.

  But there was still her mother to think of.

  She walked briskly, her mind deep in thought and she really didn’t notice the Cadillac until it pulled to the edge of the road and stopped in front of her. She was in no mood for Digger, and she started walking around. Digger opened the window of the driver’s side.

  “Wait a minute, girl,” he said.

  “Why? You have another three hundred dollars?”

  “No, girl. I’v
e got an offer a lot better than that.”

  ‘I’ve no time for your nonsense,” she said. “I’ve got to get home to Mother.”

  ‘Get in the car, bitch,’ Digger said harshly.

  His words stopped her. She looked back at him. His face was hard, cruel. His eyes glittered dangerously. There was no thought of disobedience. On suddenly rubbery legs, she walked around to the passenger side and got in. Digger started smiling again.

  “You ripped your dress,” he said.

  “Yeah,’ she said.

  Digger started the car and drove past her house. He drove to the turn-off for Aberdeen and drove another fifteen minutes toward the city. He finally pulled off onto a gravel driveway. A hundred yards down the driveway he stopped in front of small brick cottage house.

  “Come with me,” he said.

  The inside of the cottage was plush, luxurious and well-maintained. Though the floor plan wasn’t big, there were two large bedrooms with full baths, a large kitchen, and a sunken living room with plush carpets, a large console television, a stereo system, and a beautiful fish tank in one corner with a dozen exotic looking fish.

  “What is this place?” she asked.

  “You might call this my home away from home,” he said. “There’s whiskey and wine in a cabinet in the kitchen. Pour me a half-full glass of whiskey and get something for yourself.”

  In the kitchen she found the whiskey and clean glasses. She poured his glass and a little white wine for herself. The white wine was a brand she had never heard of, but it didn’t look as it had come off the supermarket shelf.

  Digger had turned on the stereo to his country station and had sprawled on the overstuffed couch. She handed him his drink and he sipped it with a satisfied sigh. She kicked off her shoes and settled on the couch next to him, her knees hugged up to her chest as somehow she could protect herself from whatever Digger had in mind.

  She sipped the wine. It was good. It was definitely not her Daddy’s elderberry wine.

  “So what am I doing here?” she asked. “What is this place?”

  “I told you this is my home away from home. I have to have someplace to get away from my bitch of a wife and my two whiny kids.”