A Little Southern Comfort
#32 of Miscellany
You
know, I ain't all bad. I mean, I work as a mechanic and that ain't glamorous,
but I can tear a car apart and put 'er back together again in no time flat. I
drive a truck, and she's about the only thing I was left with after my divorce.
Her and me, we've been pretty much inseparable since I walked out of the
courtroom ten years ago.
I wised
up after that. No more women. Not even a sexy mink like her.
Well, I
did have one female in my life. That was Casey, my little girl. As much as her
mother hated it, I got visitation rights to her every so often. There were
times when, because of the distance between us I didn't force the issue, but I
sent her letters and cards, and occasionally, little presents to let her know
her daddy still thought of her.
Since
the visits were stretched out over months, every time I saw her it was like she
was jumping ahead by inches. She'd stay with me a week or so before going back
with her mamma, and then I wouldn't see her for a while again.
I
bought her a cell phone for Christmas one year, when she was twelve and that
helped a whole lot. We talked a lot, and she would send me photos with it, and
it was a lot nicer than before. Her mother didn't approve, but then that little
bitch seemed to think everything I did was rotten. I wasn't doing anything to
undermine her. I wasn't the one who wanted the divorce.
Funny
how love takes a turn like that. When I first met Casey's mom, I wasn't looking to getting hitched. I was in the bar,
drinking and minding my own damn business.
This girl walks in, looking as fine as frog hair. Every guy in the place
had to pick their jaws up from the floor when she walked by. I didn't recognize
the lass, not a first, mostly because I wasn't looking. I was staring into my
beer, thinking about other things when all the murmuring caught my attention.
Damn if
that fine thing didn't sit down beside me at the bar. I still didn't notice
until I happened to see the red from her dress, and the fine soft fur of her
legs. I was a little bleary-eyed at this point, but I could tell a lady from a
woman. She fastidiously wiped the wooden countertop in front of her with a
napkin.
Then she
turned and smiled at me.
"Are
you going to buy an old friend a drink William?"
Everyone
here knew my name, but I didn't know her and therefore she shouldn't know mine.
My real name, that is to say, the one my momma gave me, was William. William Mathew
Hill. No one called me that. Everyone called me Billy.
"Suppose
I could. Miss?"
"Really
Billy? Seven years away and you already forgot my name?"
Her fur
was rich and luxurious, and I didn't need to be drunk to know what I wanted to
do with that body. But my momma raised me to be respectful and all, so I told
Jake the bartender to get her whatever she wanted.
Hell, I
didn't even know he knew what the fuck a Manhattan was. I sure as hell didn't.
I drank beer, that good ole American made stuff that flushed yours kidneys like
Tidy Bowl. That was always good enough
for me.
"So
Billy, you still don't remember me?"
"Ma'am,
I wish I did. But you sure are fine, and I'd like to think I'd remember someone
as purty as you."
"Why
thank you Billy! But on the same note, that means that you didn't think I was
pretty years ago, when I was still a teen."
I
struggled to recall her. I didn't come to the bar to think. I came to drink.
But there was something vaguely familiar about her. She reminded me of my aunt
Lucy. That woman was a city girl who had married my uncle back in the day, and
had come from a previous marriage. Some of the more heartless folks around here
called her tainted goods. She already had a kid, a bratty little snot by the
name of...
"Becca?"
"Rebecca,
thank you very much."
"Holy
hell!"
Everyone
heard my outburst because everyone there was listening in. It didn't take long
for everyone to remember the slightly chubby teenage tomboy who used to cause
so much trouble around town. Now that I was focusing on her face, I could see
it. It was her, but unlike some women, the past few years had improved her a
lot. Some of the girls I had grown up with already looked ridden hard and put
away wet. I had done my share of riding so take my word on it.
"Holy
has got nothing to do with it cousin. As for the hell, I can still raise my
share of it."
So this
was my long lost "cousin". Fact was, there weren't no blood shared between us,
just an uncle on my side and her mom on hers. I mean, she had a younger half sister who
still lived in the area, but outside of that, I had forgotten all about
Wreckin' Becca.
Well,
I'll skip a lot of stuff, because this here story ain't about that first
meeting. Nor about the sex, and wedding and a few other things I could do well
without remembering. I ain't saying it was bad, cuz it weren't, but a marriage
driven by sex doesn't have much else to hold it together. I thought that when
Casey was born, she might do the trick, but the divorce came and that was that.
Casey
was now thirteen, and I hadn't seen her in six months. But my ex decided she
wanted to go on a vacation overseas and wanted to get off cheaply, so she told
me I could have her for two weeks. I would have argued, but it never did any
good and besides, I wanted to see my little girl pretty badly. It has been a
long time, and I knew phone pictures didn't do her justice.
She
arrived on the bus, by herself, which made me a bit angry, but she was a smart
kid and didn't take any gruff from anyone. She had two big bags with her which
I threw in the back of the truck before I sped off down the road to my house.
We
talked and laughed all the way there, but I had a pang in my heart. She was
looking more like her mom now than her mom did at this age. I had her old room
cleaned up, and I had even taken time off of work to put a new coat of paint on
the walls. I figured if she was going to be here for two weeks, it might as
well be pleasant for her.
She
sighed once we got to the house. "You know daddy, this beats the city any day.
I mean sure, it's all nice and glitzy if you have the money, but there is
something here that calls me back."
I had
to laugh. There was some country song about that; being able to take the girl
out of the country, but not the country out of the girl. I could see she was
glad to be home.
Me
being a ferret of modest means never seemed to bother her. She went to her room,
dragging her bags behinds her; ohhed and ahhed at the new color and promptly
shut the door. She was back out in ten minutes wearing cutoff jean shorts and a
t-shirt. In her bare feet and all, she was the purtiest damn thing I had seen
in ages. I was proud to be her papa and I knew I was the luckiest man alive. I
really wished she would just be able to stay down here with me all the time.
She sat
at the same old table where once her feet had dangled and never touched the floor.
Now her toes, painted all in pink, nervously tapped on the old oak boards as
she excited filled me in on the past few months. I couldn't help but smile as I
listened to her stories. Sometimes I felt I'd like to visit a big city, but
some of us folks just don't fit in to a place like that.
It was just like Becca not fitting
in down here. She had left for a reason and maybe she should have stayed away.
We had
tried, and I think she really put her heart in it for a while, but she liked
the finer things in life, and me, I liked it simple. Some people call us
quaint, or red necks, or whatever, but we like what we like and if you stay out
of our business, we'll stay out of yours. It ain't Vegas, but what happens
here, stays here. And if you heard someone talking about someone else, you told
them to shut the hell up and mind their own business.
That
night, after supper and a little television, Casey went to her room and was
chatting on her phone to some friend of hers. I eavesdropped a little, but I
soon left her door and headed to the kitchen. I wasn't going to be working for
a few days, and the few side jobs I took on brought their vehicles to me. I
figured I was going to be getting a lot of new "repairs" from some of the
younger guys who wanted a chance to see my little girl up close.
I drank
a few beers, mostly to ease the pangs of remembering back through all the past
years. As much of a joy as it was to have my girl home, it still stirred up
emotions best left buried. Some things just didn't need to be brought up. I was
still in love with Becca, and for that reason I had withdrawn from any sort of
social life. It was lonely, but then, I did what I thought I should do to honor
her memory. It didn't matter what she did. I had my honor and that was enough.
I ended
up drinking more than I planned on, and went to bed pretty damn drunk. On top
of that, I even smoked a little weed, something I didn't do too often. It
wasn't the first time, and I doubted it would be the last. Some nights just
felt too long to endure. Tonight was going to be one of them. I opened the
windows, threw back the sheets and climbed in as I always did; au natural.
At some
point I had the most lurid dream. It was probably the green leaf, but I had the
starkest remembrance of the first time me and Becca had hit the sack. That girl
was a bitch, but she was proportioned properly in all the right places. On top
of that, she knew how to screw. Oh, she called it love making, but down here
you don't make love. You might find it, but you sure as hell don't make it.
Anything physical was pure and simple sex. Love was always an expensive option.
In my
dreaming state I reached over in the dark. My fingers found soft fur and
willing flesh. Becca was always soft on the outside. It was her insides that
could be as cold as stone. But when it came to sex, she was up for action
anytime and anywhere. And the cold
melted away to steam.
My
fingers traveled down her body until they got to her crotch. Her form shifted on
the bed and her legs spread, making my quest a little easier. I was already
hard and ready to go, but I always like to get things going nice and hot first.
She was more open to kinkiness when she was driven over the top with a little
foreplay.
She was
a tight little bitch too, if I've not mentioned it earlier. I don't know how
she managed it, something called Kegels or some such nonsense, but that girl
was able to keep her hole nice and snug. Now I wasn't hung like a horse, so
this suited me just fine. I've had a few sloppy holes and it's not very
exciting.
I
worked in a finger, I seemed to recall, and found that pushing in two was
impossible. Dreams being what they were, I didn't worry a bit about that and
played with her until she was squirming around on the bed. As if I wasn't horny
enough before, I was soon ready to pounce on my prize and have a little
satisfaction.
My
finger withdrew and I rolled over and pried apart her legs with my knees. She
didn't fight me a bit, for she never did. I found her mouth and her lips
pressed to mine with the fiery passion I was so fond of. Her tongue slipped between my jaws and made
its way to mine. I returned her action with my own reaction. Our two organs
fought a sensual dual where we both would come out winners.
My cock
slipped into position with the natural ease a man my age has. Experience is a
great teacher, and while I'm not knocking the young bucks and their first
experiences, there is something about not having that awkwardness to encumber
you that is a welcome thing. Like rebuilding an engine, it's nice to know you
have everything under control from doing it so many times over.
I
played the part of the piston and rammed that cylinder like I was part of a
supercharged race car. There was a short hindrance and then the road was clear.
I was in lust as much as I ever had been. My cock made quick work of tearing up
the pavement, complete with squealing tires. Then again, that may have been
coming from Becca. In my present mood (and dream) it hardly mattered.
It was
so realistic that I was soon absorbed in just fucking the hell out of her. She
was always an ideal bedmate. It was her mouth that usually got her into
trouble, and then, all I had to do was stick something in it to shut her up.
Yeah, I know that sounds wrong, but it worked for years. I guess things have to
give at some point in time. But wow, until that ending came, sex with her had
been the best ever!
I was
aware of teeth on my tongue, and though it should have hurt, the pain was dull.
Her lips refused to unlock from mine so I simply poured myself into the matter
at hand. Her knees bent and her heels planted themselves in the small of my
back. Those legs were killer, and I don't just mean in looks. She had strength
in them that would stun the average guy. As a kid she had climbed trees and had
wrangled calves. She was no weakling; not them and not now!
My God
how I pounded her out. It felt like I hadn't done this in ages, which made
sense. I hadn't. My nuts felt like the
size of a bull's, and the feeling was growing more persistent as I prepared to
dump a load deep inside her. Minute
after minutes seemed to tick by as I worked to ditch the years-long
accumulation of sperm inside me. Oh sure, I dumped a load every so often, but
nothing like this. This was the real thing. Everything else I brought forth went
into a sock.
I
finally felt the rise in my loins and doubled my speed. I could feel the whole
bed shaking, scraping across the wooden floor with each dramatic thrust. I
unconsciously grabbed the metal bars of the headboard and fucked her so hard I
drove her up on the bed with each push.
When my load came, it exploded from
the depths of my body to plaster the inside of her with thick white cum. I
groaned from the discomfort of blowing such a wad after so long a dry spell. In
my mind it was like in them old cartoons with that stupid coyote and the water
hoses. You know, that big surge that travels along it before coming out in a
rush? That's what it felt like.
When it blew past my confining
passage and into her, it was like having a tooth pulled. All at once I was
filled with a euphoric feeling. The buildup rattled me to my core, and the
release was truly climatic. The next instant I don't recall. I'd say I passed
out but then I was dreaming. So call it whatever you want.
In the morning, with the sun
shining in the window and the neighbor's rooster making a racket, I pried open
my eyelids and tried to see around the room. It took a moment for my pupils to
adjust. It seemed like a fine morning, and as I was lying there, I couldn't
help but recall, albeit a little vaguely, the dream from the night before.
To say it was amazing was to
belittle it. It had been unbelievably fantastic! I thought I was over my ex,
but what I had dreamt last night proved me wrong. It was too bad really,
because I would put up with her bad parts just to have the good ones back.
After a while I figured I needed to
get up and relieve myself before starting on the day. I had an old Ford to work
on, and after that, Bubba wanted help rebuilding a tranny. It would only be the
fourth time we'd have done it in the past year. He was a little hard on his
toys.
So saying, I got thinking how the
dream had gone. Man, I was totally into it. Then I sighed. Even a dream was
better than nothing.
I went to pull back the sheet but
it turned out it was stuck on my crotch. I had never had my cum dry up that
hard before, though to be honest, any other time lately had been on purpose, so
the receptacle for it had been taken care of immediately. I gingerly pulled
until it came loose.
And then I freaked.
I was covered in blood. So was the
sheet. Whatever I had done last night had been a little more real than I had
imagined. I must have injured my cock with something during my thrashing about.
And yet, a close inspection showed no injury to my manhood. I sighed with
relief, but that lasted only momentarily. The blood had to come from somewhere.
My nose was intact, so I didn't have a nosebleed during the night.
I got up, hurried to the shower and
to wash up. Casey had beaten me to rising, for a freshly dampened towel was on
the floor. After scooping some brown fur from the drain, I stepped in and
vigorously cleaned up. I scrubbed until
my skin hurt, I was feeling so confused. While I had no idea what had happened
last night, I was beginning to have a suspicion, and it wasn't a pleasant one.
I got dressed and went downstairs.
Casey was still in a robe and with her brown tresses hanging wetly around her
shoulders.
"Morning daddy!"
"Morning sweetie."My voice was
deadpan.
Her smile turned into a frown.
"Something wrong?"
"Maybe."
"Did you sleep ok?"
"I don't know."
"What do you mean?"
"Casey, was there anyone else in
the house last night?"
"Not that I know of."
"Are you sure?"
"No. I was asleep for part of it
though. Why?"
"Well... I woke up a little in
disarray."
"Disarray? That's quite a word for
you. Don't you just mean out of sorts?"
"It was a little more than that."
"Oh, you mean like the bloody
sheets?"
My stomach sank. "Yes."
Her smile was huge. "You know, mom
always talked about what a great fuck you were. She said that was the only
thing that kept you two together for as long as you were. I thought I'd see if
it was all hype. Of course, I didn't expect you to get carried away on the
first try."
"What the hell were you doing in my
bed? I mean, what the hell?!"
"Calm down! You went to sleep and I
wanted to check out your cock."
I was feeling a little nauseated.
"That's not normal."
"Sure it is. I've been wanting to
see one for real and everything, and since you were asleep, I figured it
wouldn't matter."
"The fuck it didn't matter."
"Yeah, I got a little surprise,
that's for sure. I started playing with it, and damn you get hard! I knew they
got stiff and all, but yours felt like it had a bone in it."
I was coming to grips with the
situation. I couldn't undo what had been do, but I didn't have to be happy
about it. "Casey dear, you did a bad thing."
"Bad? Nah. But I got more than I
was bargaining for. When you started to come to, I rolled over and held real
still, but your hand found me and started to touch me. I would have moved, but
it felt nice. Then you finger found my pussy and all I wanted to do was have
you feel me up. I figured that was all I was going to get."
I was already allowing the pieces
to fall into place. She had gotten me stirred up in my stupor, and in my
drugged up state I had no idea what was dream and what was real. I had fucking
taken my daughter's virginity
"This is serious."
"What? This conversation? Because
if you're talking about last night, it was way more than serious. I never
imagined anyone could fuck a girl so hard. I hardly had time to scream when you
popped my cherry before you ground me to a pulp."
"Oh God!"
"Yeah, I think I said that a few
times."
I was shaking my head back and
forth. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
"When can we do it again?"
"That's not fucking funny Casey.
What I did was wrong!"
"Maybe it was, but it wasn't your
fault. I started it."
"A judge ain't gonna see it that
way."
"So what does a judge have to do
with this? I ain't telling and it you ain't gonna tell, then what's the
problem?"
"THE PROBLEM? I fucked my daughter.
That's called incest!"
"I know the term daddy. I guess I
don't know what your problem is."
"What?" I was breathing rapidly,
beginning to freak out. "That's not something acceptable!"
"Oh, I don't know. I guess we should use a condom next time, but I
thought it was pretty intense once I got my wits about me."
"Next time?"
"Sure. I'm here for two weeks. I'd
like to think that I was going to get more than just this single, intense round
of sex. I wasn't exactly geared up for going all the way right off the bat."
I was still stunned. When I didn't
have anything else to say, she stood and undid her robe. "Look daddy, I'm not a
little girl anymore."
Fuck. She was damn right. She was
shorter than her mother by a number of inches, and her tits were obviously
smaller, but she had the right stuff in the right places. Worse of all, I felt
my cock growing in my shorts. I just sat there and stared for the longest time.
"See? If you were dead set against
this, you would have told me to cover up. But I look good, don't I?"
She didn't say it arrogantly, but
like someone who was proud of her body. I suppose too she was proud of
surviving me during the night, because if I worked half as hard as I think I
did, she was lucky she was able to walk.
"God damn it Casey! You look just
like your mother!"
"I know. But I think I have some of
your qualities too. I'm surprised you're getting so ruffled about this."
"Well, if you knew the trouble..."
"There will be no trouble. No one
sticks their nose in anyone else's business down here, remember?"
She was right. I could fuck her
from sundown to sunrise without anyone ever knowing. But I was going to have a
busy day today, and that meant she had to get dressed and soon.
"It isn't right. A father and a
daughter shouldn't have sex."
"Is that right? Who made that
rule?"
"It's in the Bible honey."
"Bullshit! Who did Adam and Eve's
kids marry? I assume they had to marry each other; cuz there weren't no one
else. And Abraham and Sara were like sibs too. They aren't the only ones. So don't
pull that religious crap on me."
The little tart was right. I often
questioned the weird stuff in that book. But the law still saw it as being
wrong. Sadly, she was correct there as well. If I didn't turn myself in, and
she didn't do it either, no one would be the wiser. And with that thought firmly
entrenched n my head, I knew I was in for a wonderful two weeks. Luckily for
her, I knew where to get some condoms, one town over. Few knew me there, and
even fewer would ask questions. While responsibility was a rarity down here, it
was viewed with a certain amount of discretion. The guy at the drugstore knew better than to
argue with someone working hard to prevent another kid being born into this
world out of wedlock.
I was still staring at her body. If
only her mother had looked like this at age sixteen. We would have been fucking
her in shifts. Casey was a whole three years younger than her mother when she
left town. Becca had been more like one of the boys back in the day, and none
of us had ever much thought about poking her. It would have been like
butt-holing one of the guys. That's why she had dropped so many jaws when she
had come back to town. She was just a late bloomer. My daughter was the firmly
in the opposite catagory.
"Casey," I said in a low, calm
voice, "We can't."
"Yes we can. I'm just another girl.
It doesn't have to be weird. I liked it and you liked it."
"I was drunk and high."
"Whatever it takes."
"You don't intend to let up, do
you?"
"Nope. I got a taste and I want
more." She held up her hand. "No, not right now. You have no idea how mixed up
my insides still are from the pounding you gave them. If mom took that on a regular
basis, I have a little more respect for her."
"I didn't hurt you did I?"
"Define hurt. From the looks of the
bed I'd think the homicide detectives would have a field day trying to figure
out who you murdered. But I'm fine; just sore. I think my hole got stretched
three sizes by the end of last night."
"Uh, how long did I..." I was
thinking of using the word rape, "...screw you."
"I don't know. You don't have a
light-up clock in your room. I'd guess an hour, more or less."
"I'm so sorry honey."
"I'm not, so you had better get
over it. I just wasn't prepared for the sheer willpower behind your actions. I
guess that'll teach me to mess with you when you're out of it."
"I'll have to be out of it again. I
can't do this again."
"I'll tell you what. Tonight I'll match
you beer for beer and joint for joint. We'll see how compliant I can make you."
Let me tell you how much the rest
of the day dragged. I worked on the cars as I promised, but I had nothing else
on my mind other than getting my daughter back into bed. I knew I was going to
have to get blitzed, but I was going to get myself just to the point where my
morals slipped into the dark recesses of my consciousness. I was feeling more like a red neck now than I
ever had before in my life.
That brought back to my memory my
first days at school. You see, around here they called you off in homeroom by using
your last name first, and I had made it well known that I didn't like William.
So the teacher called me off as Hill - Billy. Hillbilly. The funny thing was no
one really ever made a joke of it. Hell, we all were down here, in one way or
another.
And I had just taken it one step
further.
It was a long dark road I was
embarking on, but I was already ready to burn rubber in third gear to go down
it. I was going to be going through "tires" at an alarming rate over the next
few weeks, but I could afford such a slight expense for the joy it was going to
be bringing me.