Helping Hand

Jessica stood beneath the large shower head high above, her head bowed forward, her forearms crossed lightly over her large white breasts, turning slowly, dreamily back and forth, much as she'd done the night before when hesitating as Mr. Jenkins patted the couch next to him with a swat of his large, deformed hand bidding her to sit. She let the hard, hot spray work the tendons along her shoulders and neck and spine. She was thinking of Matthew and how he'd kissed her so tenderly that morning when they'd parted in front of the locker rooms.

She was so in love with him. She hadn't thought of Mr. Jenkins at all that morning or what had happened because it was just get up and go, a quick coffee with mom, then she pulled her sweats on, got her stuff, kissed the waking kiddos goodbye, and out the door to Matthew's truck so they could both hit the school gym before class. She hadn't thought of Mr. Jenkins until they pulled out of her drive and rolled down past the Jenkins's place and there he was standing on his porch with his coffee and cigarette. Then it all horribly came back.

Matthew waved and gave a honk like he always did and said, "Hey Mr. Jenkins," in that voice you use when you know someone can't hear you but you say it anyway. Jessica froze. It all came back. She didn't wave. Neither did Mr. Jenkins. Was he grinning? He looked like he was gloating.

"That's weird," Matthew said, "he didn't wave. He must have something on his mind. I guess he's got a lot on his mind with poor Mrs. Jenkins's stroke and all."

Jessica felt like she might throw up. Her stomach was doing somersaults and the cab of the truck felt like a hundred and two degrees.

"Matthew, could you please turn this heat down!" She flailed at the control panel and Matthew looked at her bewildered. He reached out himself and tapped the temp down and eased the fan on.

"I'm sorry babe. You're always so cold in the morning. I wanted the cab nice 'n toasty for ya..."

And then she let it out. A torrent of sobbing and tears and wailing. Matthew touched her shoulder with his right hand while holding the wheel with his left and trying to watch the road. She was inconsolable. He put his hand on her thigh then, right above the knee and squeezed just like Mr. Jenkins had the afternoon before, and that really set her off. She started screaming, "No!" and pulling at her hair. Matthew stopped at a turnout. He reached over and easily drew her to him, cradling her in his lap, she in a fetal position and slowly calming to sobs, but shaking pretty bad.

"Oh my God, babe, what is wrong? My poor baby... poor baby..." he gipped her tightly to him and rocked her and blew "shhhh...shhhh" in her ear, saying softly, "it's ok baby. You're ok. It gonna be fine. It's all good. You're with me baby. It's all good. That's it, that's my girl," and he rocked her and held her like that and he didn't press her, he just let her cry it out. And when she was sniffling with just a mild whimper, he smoothed her hair back from her forehead and waited without asking any questions and they just sat there on that country road in his big, warm truck with the rain starting to splat on the windshield and pelt the roof and hood in the thick round drops of the beginning of a storm.

"You know what babydoll?" he finally spoke up, quietly and tenderly, "Let's just skip the gym today. Mama was makin' Daddy some hotcakes when I left home. And if I know him, he asked her for too many, and if I know her she made him wayyy too many. Why don't we swing over to my house and eat hotcakes and have some more coffee, and sit in our sock feet by the stove before school?"

My God he's such a sweet and tender boy, she thought, standing there in that hot shower post work out. Of course she said no, and, like she always did, she pulled herself together and gave him a cute smack on the cheek and forced a big smile and giggle and said, "Matthew Riley, you and I have scholarships to win. We are going to go work out, now come on now boy!" and she reached out and hit the knob on the stereo cranking up the Taylor Swift and singing along.

Now she couldn't remember what she'd babbled about on the walk from the parking lot to the gym, only that she hadn't stopped talking since they'd got back on the road and pulled up at school and walked from the lot to the gym. But when they walked in and went to go to their locker rooms, Matthew had stopped her. He held her by each arm tightly with his giant quarterback's hands and he just looked down into her eyes. And his eyes were full of tears! He then put his mouth to hers and gave her the most tender kiss ever.

"You're all I really care about, Jess. No matter what."

That big sap! she thought, releasing the tension from her naked body in the hot spray, he was crying for me!... and he should hate me... but no she thought to herself, what's done is done. It was a mistake. Jessica, she told herself, you are allowed a mistake or two. It's a hard world and you are working your fanny off!

She soaped her body, willing herself back to business, back to now. What's done is done and you have to move forward to get what you want in this world, she said to herself as she soaped her heavy breasts, being gentle around but not able to entirely overlook the scabbing raw bits on her big pink nipples where Mr. Jenkins had bit down a little rough, and she soaped her pussy very thoroughly and rinsed down there for a long while, not thinking long about why, just getting herself very, very clean. She didn't notice the clump of grayish semen that had slipped out and washed down the drain. Today was the first day of the rest of their lives, and it was going to be exactly like she and Matthew had imagined it.

As she was soaping between her legs she noticed two faint bruises on either thigh. She flashed back to when she was riding the old man wildly the night before. She must have bruised herself on his bony hips. It had gone on so long, from his first touch in the truck to his fondling and groping her in the kitchen, and then... by the time they were in the bed she just gave up and gave in. She figured, if this old fucker thinks he's gonna fumble around all slow and "make love" to me, well fuck that, I have a boyfriend to make love with. She'd gotten out of the bed where he was petting her and licking her boobs and she ripped her shorts off and and jumped back in and got right on top of him. She grabbed his cock, which was big and surprisingly hard for an old man, and she shoved him deep inside. She was so wet she took him in entirely and realized then that he might be even bigger than Matthew the way he filled her up... but she drove all her weight down and took him all the way in, grinding down and releasing some feral groans. He grabbed her hair and pulled her down for a kiss, and she started bucking on his cock faster so that her thighs slapped him loudly and she now recalled the sharp points of his bony hips on the insides of her thighs. He held her down to his mouth by the ponytail smashing their mouths together and biting her lips. Now he's fucking me like a beast, she remembered thinking.

She immediately touched her finger to her lip under the hot running water. She realized then that her other hand was on her pussy. Oh shit, she thought and she turned to the mirror beside the shower. She ran her finger back and forth on a red mark that even stung a little. How had she missed that when she washed her face last night? How had Matthew missed it this morning?..she hadn't put on lipstick...Then she remembered their kiss outside the locker room and recalled that it had stung there a little but she was so swept away by the romance... She realized again that she was still rubbing her clit and labia, and harder...

"OH my GOD!" she screamed, and coach Davis suddenly called out and then came running from between the lockers.

Jessica was now on the floor sobbing, much like in the truck earlier. Coach Davis turned off the shower and grabbed Jessica by the shoulders and pulled her up and against her, walking Jessica to the nearest bench and running back for her towel. Jessica was again crumbling and almost falling off the bench in deep, guttural sobs and Coach Davis slid next to her and propped her up and wrapped her in the towel and put her arm around her. Her hand was inside the towel and her fingertips pressed the soft flesh of her breast.

"Jessica, Jessica, honey. Awww, poor baby, what are you...what's going on dear? What's got you so blue and sad, sweetie?" The coach rocked her and offered "shhh, shhh, shh's" blowing sweetly in her ear, just as Matthew had in the truck. And here was another person who loved her so much. But why?! I'm evil! The thought tore through Jessica's mind as she thought of what she'd done, the way she is. Because I'm a tramp and a slut, I think about fucking all of the time! And it was so easy for a gross old man to get me wet and begging for it. Why did these good people care so much for me at all?

"I'm horrible," cried Jessica, "I'm a horrible person! I don't deserve any of it, anything!"

Coach rocked her for a while and when Jessica calmed, Coach Davis held her up close to hers and looked into her eyes.

"Jessica, honey, you are the sweetest, kindest girl. You're a good daughter, you help your mom so much. You're a great teammate, you lift all the girls up. You're the best kind of player a coach could dream of..." Coach put her hand out, holding out first her thumb, and then ticking off her traits with each finger, "You're a talent that almost needs no coaching. Two, you have a helpful, honest, humble attitude always. Three, you have a ferocious desire to win, and not just win, but to take a game from the other team, you take the win! Four, you're a monster on the court, almost unblockable, and when you're up on the net nothing is getting by you; and finally, honey, you exude so much pleasure in that gargantuan effort, in the sweat and the pain and the raw beauty and desire to be on top..." Coach Davis was breathing heavily. Again, Jessica crumpled in convulsive sobbing.

"Oh my gosh sweetie," Coach was down on her knees straining to look in to Jessica's eye as she was now almost prostrate on the bench.

"I'm so horrible! I'm like a beast! A beast!"

Suddenly Jessica was struck by the memory of going to church once with her grandparents when she was very young. Jessica's grandfather was a basket man. There's not too many of them anymore but you know, we got oil men, they're all over the place, you can't shake a stick. But basket men... Well, of course it's just that baskets are a niche commodity.

Baskets just didn't catch on like oil. But in some parts of the south--nooks and crannies, hills and dales, they do have the old-timey basket men. Usually their fathers and grandfathers were basket men before them; and then they begat basket men who also begat basket men, who then, also, in their turn, begat a few more basket men, maybe one or two. But that was a long, long time ago and Jessica's grandfather was probably the last of them.

Preachers love a good basket. Nobody loves a basket like a preacher. A preacher knows no love like he doth the love he hath for his basket. C'mon 'n pass that basket now! So naturally, Jessica's grandparents sat in the front row. On this day, her granddad had brought a huge basket. It was so big she'd actually hid in it the night before when Meemaw was looking for her at bedtime. So Jessica and her grandparents had left a little early for church and parked around back. There was a strange old truck back there with a tin shell and no windows. Jessica watched her grandfather carry the huge basket on his head to the preacher who was waiting at the back door to the parrish. He stared at her in a very strange way. He didn't look at her grandfather or the man at the truck, just stared at Jessica. She'd never felt so creeped out. She turned and buried her face in her Meemaw's dress and grandma said, "OOhhh, Jessica honey, your face is so hot, do you have a fever darlin'?"

In church, Jessica saw that the huge basket was placed right in the center, in front of the preacher's pulpit. The music started up and some people were dancing and shouting, but that wasn't her family's way, they were more reserved in their worship. Her Granddad, who was a very serious man, used to say, "It does not matter how a man shows his love for God, just that he shows it in some way."

Some of the people in church showed that love in wild ways. They whirled, and shook on the ground, squirming around like they'd been electrocuted. Some people babbled and spat and seemed to be choking on something. Today, the music and dancing got worked up real quick and the Mclaughlin boys were doing these kinds of high kicks, like they were marionettes. Jessica thought that was funny, and she noticed that their feet barely touched the ground and their eyes were squeezed shut tight. Then the preacher put his arms out like an airplane and started running around the stage and whirling until suddenly he was right in front of Jessica. He stood there kind of gyrating and staring at her. Jessica looked up at her grandparents and their heads were bowed and their eyes were shut tight. So she did the same.

The music seemed to get louder and faster and she could hear many voices moaning, groaning, and even shrieking. Then she heard shouts. She opened her eyes and saw the preacher behind the big basket and he was bent over it, his whole torso was in there so she couldn't see his head or shoulders or arms. Then suddenly he burst up and his face was purple and red and it looked like his head had gotten larger. He held out his arms like he was spreading them in victory and in each fist he had many snakes. At least five or six snakes in each fist and he stalked the stage and held them out at people and out at the crowd and he was kind of doing a shriek yodel and stomping around. Then he came sidestepping up before Jessica and her grandparents and she could hear the rattles and hissing of the snakes and the preachers eyes were red as fire and he was flickering his tongue at her just like the snakes were doing, and he got closer and closer, until suddenly her granddad's large frame came between them and all she heard was his booming voice. "Enough!"

The church seemed to go completely silent for just one moment, but then the tambourines and drums and the preachers howls started right back up again, and Granddad took Jessica and Meemaw by the hands and walked them right out of the parish. Meemaw seemed pretty flustered and she made little noises in the car, like yelping coughs and saying, "well" and "oh my..." but Granddad was totally quiet and he drove them calmly from the parrish parking lot and turned down to go to Main Street and he stopped in front of Lucy's Donuts, which was Jessica's favorite thing about Sunday, and Granddad told Lucy, "Now Lucy honey, you give my granddaughter the biggest jelly filled with the most jelly in it. And mother? You want a cream filled?" And then they all sat and laughed and had the sweetest time.

Even though a sweet innocent memory can almost take away a terrible one, Jessica never did forget that strange day at the parrish And even though she hadn't thought of it in a long time, for some reason it came back to her mind now so vividly that she found she was clenching Coach Davis's arm and shoulder real tight that she was clear smashed up against the Coach's large bosom and Jessica's towel had never fully wrapped around her and her own breasts were rubbing the coaches forearm, her lightly scabbed nipples, engorged now and raw, were dragging along coaches skin and kind of twisting along her large rough elbows. She could hear the coach's deep breaths and feel her large body squeezing hers and she felt suddenly so relaxed and safe and she noticed between her legs that her pussy was soaking wet.

Coach Davis's voice was deep and tender in her ear, "My dear, dear honeychild. Jessica sweetie. You're...doing just...you are the tightest...I mean the toughest girl. You just...you do so much, babygirl. I think we should concentrate on helping you relax now, take some of this pressure off you..."

As coach said this she was skillfully applying pressure to a spot on Jessica's neck, around the bottom and almost under her spine. If Jessica, wasn't certain she'd have thought there was a finger on her clitoris or g-spot, the feeling of sexual release was so total throughout her body that she went all numb and prickly.

"Yeah, thass right" Coach said softly, her face real close to Jess, "let's schedule you for a massage, girl. I can tell there are many spots that I need to free from tension and restraint." And then the coach kissed her gently and sweetly on the cheek, or the jaw, near her ear...and she stood up and said softly, "You gonna be ok sweetie?" The coach had stepped on Jessica's towel when she stood and it had come off completely and now Jessica sat there with her boobs jutting out and swollen, nipples like big red pencil erasers.

Jessica was resting the side of her face on Coach's knee and letting out her last weakened sobs. "Thank you Coach Davis, you're always there for me."

Coach looked down at Jessica and ran her fingers through her hair, admiring the shape of her large bare breasts from above and grinning like a cat.

The day went pretty well after that. She laughed with Tammy and Kitty in Home Ec about the chrome naked lady stickers Bryce Ford had put in his truck windows, and at lunch she sat with Kathy Ann and Kacey and dreamt about possibly going to U.T.K. together and majors they might take and dorm life and boys.

After a little moment of quiet, Kacey said, like it was something everyone, not just her, had been wondering about, "Do you think you and Matt, um, will like, stay together if you... I mean like if he doesn't go there. Or even if he goes there... I mean, do you?"

The thing was, Jessica didn't really talk to Kacey much about Matthew and she wasn't a friend who ever spent time with both of them, because she wasn't a real girlfriend of Jess, or even a friend really of any of the football players that Jess knew of, even though she seemed to spend a lot of time out at the the practice field for a girl who wasn't even a cheerleader. Jessica said boldly, because after Coach Davis's soothing calm she'd imparted in the locker room, Jessica had been feeling energized and, well, powerful. And just like, take no shit.

"Really?" Jessica shot, but not like a question, more in disbelief, "you're gonna ask intimate questions about my relationship when we're not really even that close, and you don't really even know Matthew..."

"I know Matt!" Kacey teasingly laughed, "We grew up together stupid, goll' girl! I swear Jessica, sometimes it's like you already went to college and forgot all about your whole life here and all the people that's been in your life. Your whole life Jessica! You sleepwalkin'?"

Kacey got up in a kind of exaggerated twirl and said to Kathy Ann, "Kathy Ann, I don't know what you're thinking about later periods, but the team has last practice before the game and the boys were gonna keg it up after so... I just said they could use my barn and so I'm skippin' and goin' out to the Walmart now..."

Jessica and Kathy Ann looked at each other. Kathy Ann seemed to Jessica to be apologizing with her eyes and a little head movement, and Jessica mouthed, "what?" and just felt so totally confused. The girls walked out of the cafeteria and Jessica sat there angrily for a few moments.

That bitch Kacey had always wanted Matthew, she knew it. She stewed in anger and then caught the end of a joke Tommy Longdangle, the president of robotics club, was telling at the nerd table, "and so then the professor stood up and says to him, 'there's only so many I can fit in there!" and she listened to all the nerds laugh, and that familiar, safe sound, of snorting and honking guffaws and hiccups was so reassuring in it's innocence and normalcy that Jessica felt like going over there and jumping right in the middle of them. But of course she couldn't do that. There were such strange divisions and codes in high school. Like you never knew what you were really supposed to do, or if anyone was telling the truth, or if anyone at all really even knew what was going on.