The beer bottle I'd been caught fucking burned a candle now. There in the daylight, I watched the wax cream itself over its shape. The bottle was a forty.
My hands trembled as I pulled my bleached ponytail apart in front of my husband's mother's mirror. In the front room of the trailer, I could hear the sounds of a car race blare from the television's single speaker. My heart was in a race of its own and I knew the only way to calm it was to smoke again.
The scent of the lit cigarette brought my feet back to the ground and I blew smoke at the loaded ashtray. My brown eyes, wet from the heat of the match, glimpsed my naked body. The pooch above my red pubic hair proudly declared my relationship to my two beautiful children. My tits were two generous handfuls.
I slipped my shirt over my bra, careful to not burn it. It felt dirty and insincere to wear one my husband's faded wife-beaters, but something inside of me loved the shit out of that part. I pulled pajama bottoms on over my pudgy panties and limply tied them up.
I wanted to look good, but not like I was begging for it.
The cigarette was at my side as I left the bedroom for the front of the trailer.
His sweaty, college aged form didn't acknowledge me as I passed. He'd been fucking her every night even though she was pregnant.
"Joy?" He said with a grunt.
I pretended to not hear him and opened the fridge for a beer.
"Joy!" He shouted at me and I turned. I cracked open my can.
"What?" I said. "Turn that shit down or off!"
The sound of the race stopped.
"Gonna bring me a beer?"
I reached back into the fridge. "You should get a job."
Ronnie only laughed from the living room.
"Harlan ain't here," he said. "So?"
I knew what he meant. It meant this was the day he might fuck me. But it's been like that before. Somehow he never brought it up most days.
Ever since I saw him fucking Jana next door by accident, I'd spied on him when I could. The time he caught me spying was the day I thought my life was over. He'd made an arrangement with me. He'd fuck me if I stopped taking the pill. That simple.
"Yeah," I said with a shrug and swallowed some beer.
"How many days it been?" Ronnie asked.
"You know how many," I said.
"Maybe I lost track," he said quickly. "Maybe I don't give a fuck."
"Almost a month," I said and I could hear my voice shake a little. "I ain't been on the pill for near a month."
I put his beer on the table and blew smoke in his direction.
"Okay," he said and reached down to his belt. As his fingers worked the latch beneath the buckle, I approached him. His zipper came down and only the coffee table kept us apart. I breathed smoke from my cigarette and watched him wiggle his pants and underwear down.
"Go on," he said to me. "Get this table outta here."
I hunched over and pulled the coffee table away from him.
He snapped his fingers at me and pointed to his lap. I walked around the coffee table and stood right in front of him. As my future son-in-law whipped his cock out, I sipped my beer and flicked my ashes to the living room floor.
Ronnie's cock was massive and he knew it. He laid its limp length out across his thigh. This wasn't the first time I'd seen it. I had watched that cock fuck my pregnant daughter, the pregnant neighbor, and the pregnant mom down the street.
"How many days?" Ronnie asked me as he lifted the weight of his thing for me to see more of it.
"Maybe enough," I said in an attempt to sound un-interested and plopped my cigarette into the beer can.
"That's good, girl, now kneel down."
I did like I was told. My knees touched the ground between his parted legs. I felt a tingle pulse at the top of my thighs as I did what he said.
"Touch it," he glared down at me.
My eyes submitted to the view only inches in front of me. The limp thing impressed with its width. The wrinkles on the foreskin reminded me of a walnut shell and its fat helmet was smooth like apple skin. Long dark tangles of hair seemed proud to surround something so masculine. My hand went out to it and my breath quickened as I reached beneath it.
I wanted to put my other hand on it. I needed to put my other hand on it. The size of it demanded more of my little hands so I put all ten fingers on him. I could hear my breathing loud because it was the only sound in the room.
"How long you been wantin' to touch that, Joy? A month and a half? I know you been fingerin' your pussy wishin' it was in you."
Ronnie reached to one side for his cigarette pack.
I looked up at him.
"Don't look at me, Bitch! I ain't the show!" He shouted down at me.
My eyes shot down to his lap again and the widening cock in my fingers. From just my touch it was thickening. With the slightest movement it was responding. I squeezed it with both hands I could feel the veins grow into my palms.
He tapped the butt of his cigarette on the top of my head.
"Look at that, Joy. I think I just might let you suck it. Would you like that? Give it a polish?"
He lit his cigarette. I heard his exhale when I leaned forward. My eyes closed as the musk of his dirty dick invited me closer. The scent of old spunk and sweat caused my jaw to drop. I wanted the taste in my mouth.
"Oh, Joy, you're gonna get fucked," he said. "Remember watchin' me do Jana? Remember the night I caught you fucking that beer bottle? I'll pop that pussy out, you'll see."
I could feel my panties wet and sticky as he said what I wanted to hear most.
"You ever cheated on Harlan before, Joy?"
I ignored the question and pointed the fat knob of his fruit at my mouth.
"Not gonna answer me?" He asked and his hands slammed into my cheeks. He forced me to face him from his hands. The cigarette was still in his mouth. The sting of his hands was an echo in my pores.
My thighs rubbed together in a futile effort to tug my panties over my clit.
"No, Ronnie, I ain't."
"So I'm the first?" He grinned down at me. "I know I'm the first to do this."
With speed and abrupt ferocity, he grabbed my hair with one hand and his cock with the other. He smacked its giant end upside my head. He slapped it against my cheek and chin. The head smacked my closed eyes.
"Harlan ever do that!? Huh!? Kinda hard to dick-whip if yer dick ain't big like a whip, huh." He grinned as he continued to smack my face. "Hey! I'm a poet and didn't know it!"
His last phrase was punctuated by a dick slap for each syllable.
My mouth opened in an attempt to catch it. My tongue tried to lick it. With my eyes wide and my cheeks red from his hands I wanted to taste his glistening knob. My efforts came with throaty growls that I'd never made before.
He laughed at me. He pulled his cock away from me and ashed his cigarette on my face.
"Know what? I wantcha to do the back," at those words, he pushed me away from him and stood up. As his pants dropped, he shoved his underwear down and turned to show me his flabby ass. "Put yer tongue in there. Got an itch I can't scratch."
The command repulsed me, but there's no way he could tell. He took up his beer from the couch and cracked it open.
"No, Ronnie. I don't want to."
"That's okay, Joy, I didn't wanna fuck you anyways. Ugly. Average tits. And plain stupid."
On my knees, I stared at his back as he said those things. I was mad at him. But as mad as I was, I could feel my skin flushed red with wanting. My pussy, right up where it receives cock, was wide with wetness, hungry for him to go on.
My hands went to his hips and I reached my lips to his hairy ass cheeks. I breathed the smells left in underwear and I put my tongue out to know what it tasted like. I'd never done anything like this my whole life and now I couldn't wait to.
"Atta girl," he sighed. "Just push the shit around some and get it all wet below my fucking balls."
I complied. The dank brown taste spread over my tongue like peanut butter and I licked it all the way up and down. I smashed my tongue flat against his opening and felt his ass hairs scratch against my cheeks. I tasted the man who would marry my daughter and with each lick I could feel myself more and more wrapped up in his spell.
He made no sounds or any indication that my effort was pleasing him.
He only chugged some beer from his can.
I pushed my tongue into the opening of his asshole. I nudged it against every wrinkle I could find and I sighed into his crack. My chest swelled, as I desired more of his flavor.
I heard him gulp down the last of his beer and crush the can with his large hand.
The can dropped to the floor next to me.
"Get rid of that for me," he growled.
I fell back on my knees with his beautiful stain on my lips.
My pulse throbbed like it was drunk and I grabbed his beer can. I got to my feet and almost fell backward.
Ronnie caught my arm and pulled me into his sweaty t-shirt. Still clenching the cigarette with his teeth, his pale green eyes stared down at me. The grip he had on my arm became painful.
His free hand shot down the front of my pants and into my drenched panties. I felt two of his fingers zip right past my clit and inside of me. The speed and force of this penetration made me grunt. My thighs clenched together.
He spit the cigarette out of his mouth to the floor in front of us.
"Let go of my fucking hand and pick that up!" He shouted into my ear.
I let my thighs open and I realized he wanted me to bend over with his fingers still inside of me. I leaned forward for the cigarette. My fingers were shaking as I took it from the floor.
With his grip on me, he forced me to remain bent over. In my craving pussy, his finger rubbed me in a "come-hither" motion. His speed was lazy and the rhythm of the movement was offbeat. I wanted to fuck his hand, but I didn't want him to yell at me again.
"This is where, Joy, where I'll put my seed," he breathed down at me. "That cock you crave? My fuck stick? It might give you a kid cause, like a good girl, you stopped taking the pill. Tell me why you did that."
A sigh fell out of my throat and I shuddered in response to his fingers.
"Because..." I mumbled with my eyes closed. "Because you told me to."
