Greta Pt 01

Stories and ratings can be odd at times. You may publish a story that you just know will be a hit and not reach the score you thought it might. Then you may submit one that you feel may fall below your normal standards only to have it score in the 4.7's and gain thirty new followers. I've stopped trying to figure it out, now I just write and trust that people will like what I've put on paper.

Greta

part one

Chubby. That's how my mother always described me. Though I'd like to think otherwise I can't remember a time when she was truly accepting of me. I was like the child she didn't want. I had two siblings, a brother older and a sister younger. My brother was the golden boy who could do no wrong, my younger sister Laura was skinny as a rail and had blonde hair. I was the opposite, I was never fat as a child, at the same time I was never thin.

My hair was colored what mother called dishwater blonde. In other words, in her eyes it was never clean and glistening like my sisters. I could walk from the shower after shampoo and conditioner, and she'd still comment on my dirty looking hair. If you could look up "middle child" in the dictionary you would see my picture. My dad split the scene shortly after Laura was born. Mom says he went to Alaska to work on the pipeline and never came back. How true that was I have no idea, I did some research and discovered the pipeline construction had been over for years. Her response was they still needed maintaining. I have no idea if that's true or not, I do know she was granted a divorce three years after he left.

I was always the last one picked when kids chose teams for sports in school. I was never popular, at the most I probably had four or five kids who would refer to me as their friend. Of course, having a name like Greta didn't make matters any simpler. Of those who were friendly, it was only until someone else came along, then I would be what one might say was, excess baggage. I learned at an early age how to be a ghost, blend in and then quietly slip away, no one ever seemed to notice.

The only difference between high school and grade school was that the kids were more cruel. Kids with hormones raging can be merciless bastards, especially if they're in a group. As I developed physically the body shaming became more prevalent, though I never understood why. I looked like half of the other girls in school, my bust wasn't oversized, my butt wasn't huge, I didn't have a big belly or flabby skin hanging off my frame. Yet I was called fat ass and a plethora of other names not worth mentioning.

I graduated high school ranked third in my class, something I felt extremely proud about. After all, my older brother barely graduated. The rumor was that my mother visited the older single English teacher at home to get his grade above an F. Whether true or not I wasn't sure, but it was certainly believable. Then there was my younger sister who had a reputation no girl should have. My mom's reaction to me being ranked third in my class? She told me if I wasn't so homely and had tried harder I could have done better.

I was 18 when I graduated, deciding to take a gap year and not be bound by the restrictions of a school atmosphere. I was tired of school, I wanted to find a job and think about what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. That job came about at Henley's True Value Hardware and Lumber. Mister Henley was in his mid-fifties. A kind and likeable man, always polite, always a kind word, he made me feel welcome. It was while working there that I lost my virginity, not to mister Henley but to one of the guys at the lumber desk.

Though my bust had increased to more than a handful after my 18

th

birthday no one paid a moments attention to me. I'd been at Henley's almost a year when Edward from the lumberyard started to pay me compliments and treat me nice, it went straight to my head. He was a single man in his early thirties and like me not all that popular. He was a good-looking man, but with the manners and behaviorisms of a high school kid. Something I was willing to overlook just for the attention.

To put it succinctly, he wooed and screwed me, then wanted nothing to do with me. It wasn't a pleasant experience, his dick was short and thin. I experienced little pain when my hymen broke, which was probably a good thing. (I would learn later in life what a nice size cock felt like as I careened toward my first vaginal orgasm.) As I said, the penetration wasn't bad, I asked him to give me a minute to relax and adjust to the bodily intrusion. The lout didn't stop or give me time to adjust, he just kept plowing away. I knew I had seriously fucked up when he proclaimed rather loudly while filling my aching swollen pussy with his seed. "Take it you fat bitch."

He hadn't lasted five minutes when I felt his dick begin to pulsate and spew inside me. I was left with a mess between my legs and sore pussy. Not a word was said on the way to my house, at the driveway he stopped, looked at me and said, "get out." I walked into the house on wobbly legs, though he wasn't big, my vagina hurt. The way I walked must have let my worthless older brother know as he laughed.

"Got your cherry busted huh bitch? Stupid cunt, you'll probably get knocked up. That's the only way you'll ever get a guy, on your knees or back. Stupid cunt."

The only saving grace was that I wouldn't be working most of the summer and not have to see shit face any more than absolutely necessary. I had already planned to quit work at the end of June. I would use July and August to get registered and moved to college. I'd purchased an older F-150 in decent shape. It had belonged to a neighbor who was too old to drive and had been in his garage for three years. I'd always gotten along with he and his wife, when I saw the for-sale sign in the truck window I stopped right away.

After some dickering, his wife told him if I was going to buy it and that he would sell it to me for x number of dollars. She apparently wore the pants in that relationship because he didn't say another word. I'd saved enough money to buy it outright and went home to get the cash from my underwear drawer. With my truck now home I once again received nothing but ridicule from my family. Why did I buy a piece of junk truck, how fucking stupid could I be, blah, blah. I was used to it and ignored them. I didn't have much to move for school, thankfully what I had would fit in the truck with ease.

I was looking forward to starting classes again, I'd decided that I wanted to be an editor. Having been an avid reader and excelling in English, in my mind it was a good choice. Decent editors were in high demand and it would be something I loved doing. I was fortunate enough to find part time work on campus working in the library. My roomie was an odd duck, she was quite large and acted like she was still in high school. We got along okay until I felt her trying to crawl in bed with me. Pushing her out I asked what she thought she was doing.

"I thought we could be friends, you know, with benefits. I'm really horny and you don't have any boyfriends so I thought we could be lovers. I like pussy, but you wouldn't have to eat me right away, just help me get off with your fingers."

That suggestion was not only a no, it was a "hell no" and I let her know it.

"That's not gonna happen Riley. I have no desire to be yours or anyone else's bitch, and I sure as hell am not going to stick my face in your pussy. Nor will you stick yours in mine. If this is what I'm going to have to put up with I'll request another room mate."

I didn't need to do that, she found someone she wanted to move in with within a week. Her replacement was a tall slender girl from a farm background, we seemed to hit it off right away. Of all the roomies I had over the next three years she was by far the nicest. My second-year roomie was a slut personified, and not at all ashamed about it. I would wake in the middle of the night to the sounds of her rutting across the room with no concern for me whatsoever. It seemed she would fuck anything with a dick, tall, short, wide, thin, black, white, brown, it didn't matter.

A few of them had the audacity to ask if I'd like them to fuck me when they were done with her. The third time that happened I told her to choose somewhere else to screw or find another roomie. She left at Christmas break and never came back, rumor was not only was she knocked up, but she had a nasty STD as well. I felt badly for the kid growing inside her. I spent the rest of that school year by myself. I hadn't been home in over two years so when my aunt called to ask if I was coming home for the summer I gave in and said for a few weeks.

The first day was nice, the second okay, by the third it was what it had always been. Greta's a dumb cunt, Greta can't do anything right, Greta this and Greta that. On the fifth day I packed what I'd brought and headed back to school. In the summers my job at the library was full time, I was making enough that combined with student loans I was able to keep my head above water and actually put a little bit away for a rainy day. 700 hundred bucks isn't much, but at that time in my life it was a comfortable safety net.

Not one of my immediate family attended my graduation from college. My aunt made the trip, that was it. She kept trying to make excuses for my mom not coming along. I finally put my hand up in a stop motion.

"I know you're trying to help Aunt June, but let's be honest for a change. My mother could care less about me, and frankly, I feel the same about her after all these years. To her I've always been an ugly fat stupid bitch, someone to be ashamed of."

Aunt June looked down and then at me, "You're right about her honey but you're wrong about you. You aren't fat, you are most certainly not stupid, and though you aren't the prettiest girl on the block, you aren't ugly either. Your mother, my worthless sister, is full of shit Greta, always has been."

June stayed with me another day after graduation before traveling back home, I would never see her again. The ravages of cancer stole her from this life a year and a half later. Before I graduated I'd been fortunate enough to land a temporary job at a smaller Midwest publisher. I was told that if I was as good as my grades and resume stated I would be hired full time within six months. The atmosphere was casual and most of the other workers were pleasant, with there being a total of 8 people you became one of the working family quickly. The owners of the company were a man and wife in their early forties. I'd seen them with their three kids at company functions but beyond that I didn't know much about them. We worked together and that was about it.

There was one rather obnoxious individual when I had first started, he didn't last long after I arrived. A young man from India with a chip on his shoulder as big as Delaware. Arrogant, smart mouthed, hard to put up with most of the time. He continually asked me out, I continually turned him down. I asked one of the other ladies what his problem was, she informed me he was on the way out the door. His probationary period was finished in two weeks and then it was bye, bye. Ellen's way of explaining him was thus.

"Where I come from in Texas guys like him are considered all hat and no cowboy. My husband Jeff goes to the same gym he does, to be kind, Jeff says he lacks where he needs it the most. If you get my drift."

With three days to go he confronted me during lunch. I was by myself when he walked in and plunked his skinny ass in the chair next to me. The fool then put his hand on my thigh. I was wearing jeans, but I still didn't want his hands on me, anywhere. In a broken English accent he said.

"Greta. You need to have sex with me before I go back to India. You will most certainly enjoy it."

Moving his hand off my thigh I stood and walked to the other side of the table.

I was having none of his BS, "It would be a cold day in hell before I'd have sex with you Gupta. Now leave."

He got all uppity, "You are refusing because my skin is darker than yours, you are a racist."

I laughed, "No dipshit, I'm refusing you because you're a smarmy little prick. I wouldn't sleep with you if I only had ten minutes to live. I'll say this once more and then I'm going to scream rape. Leave me alone."

My eyes were boring holes in his when he finally stood and stomped off like a five-year-old. When I returned from lunch my coworker Adrien asked what the commotion was about.

"That slimy little douchebag tried to tell me I should have sex with him. I set him straight."

She gave me an incredulous look, "That little fucker. He's said that to every woman in this place except the boss."

I winced, "But you're married. Why would he do that? I'm sure you told him where to go."

She was steaming mad but still managed a chuckle, "I told him I wouldn't fuck him if he was the last man on earth, that I'd cut his dick off and choke him with it. He was smart enough to walk away. I'm gonna go see Brenda, they need to fire him today, not wait until the end of the week."

The company I worked for wasn't big enough to have security staff, but the building where they leased space did. Thirty minutes later building security showed up and escorted Gupta, the little polished turd, from the premises. I made it through my probationary period and was hired full time. I was making a decent wage and had a nice apartment, I'd traded in my old pickup for a newer Honda Civic. All in all I was basically set, except for one thing, no one noticed me. Every morning during the week the older sixty something security guy at the lobby desk would look up and smile.

"Good morning Greta."

And that was it, from there I would make my way to the elevators, push number 7 and wait for the doors to open when it got there. Walk down the hall, into room 7B and greet whoever was there. I'd thought about a cat at one point but quickly dismissed that, the poor thing would be cooped in my one bedroom apartment all its life. I couldn't do that to an animal. On Wednesdays I would go to Joe's Bar for all you can eat chicken, of which I never ate more than the two pieces that came with the initial meal. But it was an opportunity to get out of the apartment. Even there I was nobody to somebody, just another sad lonely looking face in the crowd.

I had to admit I'd let myself slip some, having no one to want to look nice for will do that. I was at least 30 pounds overweight and hadn't been to a beauty parlor in nearly a year, much less have my toenails and fingernails done. My wardrobe resembled hand me downs more than it looked like something I'd wondered about and tried on three times before buying. Baggy jeans, baggy blouses, sneakers, very little jewelry beyond earrings. I love earrings, short dangly ones. I owned all of three dresses and two of them were now too small to fit comfortably.

That all changed one Saturday morning when I couldn't sleep past six. I decided to take a walk in the nearby park, sitting on a bench I was watching the ducks and their little one's swimming behind. Secretly it was what I wanted, to have a man who loved me and gave me babies. A man who would care for me, bring me a flower for no reason other than that he loved me. A man who would find my body desirable, someone who would want to make love to me day and night. A man who would look in my eyes and call me sweet girl as he filled my pussy full of baby making seed. A man who would be as good a daddy as he was a husband. Was that too much to ask I wondered?

By seven thirty the early morning sun was just above the trees, enough so that the warmth on the front of my body made me sleepy. Scooting my butt forward on the bench I tilted my head back and dozed off. What woke me was a light tapping on my leg. Looking down at me was a tall slender policeman tapping my knee with his flashlight. I sat up abruptly trying to get my bearings, before I could speak he did.

"Are you okay miss? You really shouldn't be sleeping in the park. There are too many things that could happen."

I sat straight, "Oh, I don't sleep here. I live in the apartments over there, I just happened to doze off a few minutes."

He motioned toward the bench as if asking if he could sit.

I scooted to the side, "Yes, please."

His soft southern voice continued, "It's not a good idea to fall asleep here anyway. There have been a few instances lately where people taking a nap on the south lawn have been robbed, some were assaulted. All of them women. I'd hate to see you get hurt, or worse."

I smiled, "Me either. I'll pay better attention from here on."

As he stood he pointed toward my apartment complex. "You live over there?" I nodded. "So does my sister, I've been staying with her until I find a place of my own. I've only been in town a little over four months, I transferred here from Oklahoma City."

He piqued my interest, "How long have you been a policeman?"

"Six years. I moved after my wife died. I wasn't sure where to go, sis told me they had openings on the force. I applied and was accepted. She has a two bedroom and said I could stay with her until I found a place. So, here I am. Have you lived here all your life?"

"Nope, just over two years now. I work as an editor in the Hawthorn Building downtown. It's a small publisher, but I like it and we all get along well. Though the company has grown since I was hired it's still a comfortable place to work."

He tapped the bill of his baseball style police cap with the flashlight and started to move on, then stopped and turned to me.

"Maybe I'll see you around the complex. We live in building C. Apartment 4."

I laughed, "I live in D, same apartment number. Yes, maybe we'll see each other. Bye."

Walking back to my apartment I scolded myself for not getting his name. I had noticed there were more patrolmen in the park lately but wasn't sure why. His explanation made sense, it made me wonder why people must be like that. I mean to steal from women asleep. Or anyone else for that matter. When I got to my apartment I looked across the way, apartment 4C was on the top left, just as mine was. I had seen a man and woman on the small deck a few times and assumed they were man and wife. Maybe, just maybe, I may have met someone who would be interested in me.

I didn't see him the next day, or even the next week. My inner desire to get back in shape waned and I was slowly slithering back into my previously empty lifestyle when there was a knock on my door one evening. Looking through the peephole I could see it was a woman, however, I had no idea who she was. Since she didn't look threatening I opened the door.

"Yes, may I help you?" I asked.

She extended her hand to shake mine, "Hi. My name is Virginia, most folks call me Ginny. My brother and I live across the way in 4C. He said he met you in the park and wanted to apologize for not contacting you. He's back in Oklahoma for a court case. He had been under cover almost a year when they finally had enough evidence to bust the drug dealer. He testified yesterday but won't be back until later this week. He wanted me to let you know he'd like you to come for dinner with us when he gets back."

I was completely overwhelmed, "Gee, I don't know what to say. I don't even know his name. And I don't recall telling him mine. Mine is Greta, please come in."

Over coffee she informed me his name was Gale. That his wife Jane had been sickly most of her life with cystic fibrosis. Gale had married her knowing she wouldn't live a long time but loved her enough that she was worth being with until the end. Ginny went on to tell me how Jane had a lung transplant that did okay for a few years until her body began to reject them. In the end it was the aftereffects of rejection that killed her.