Every part of this story is a fantasy. Nothing is real but the love.
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No one had ever made love to her.
From age five to eight, a needle-dick great uncle had raped her, Thanksgiving and Christmas, without fail. She was lucky he had such a tiny penis, he didn't do any serious physical harm. She earnestly hoped that the full force of the fires of hell were now focused exclusively on his dick and balls for all eternity.
By fourteen, beer and sex were no strangers.
But no one had ever made love to her.
In high school, she had more than one pregnancy scare.
But no one had ever made love to her.
Her senior year, she met a guy ten years older than her, and moved in with him in early May, and graduated in late May. In June she got married. He told her he wanted a divorce in October. It was finalized in February.
But no one had ever made love to her.
She met another guy. She was nineteen. He was forty-one, married, one kid of his own, one step-kid. She got pregnant.
She had fucked and been fucked more times than she could count.
But no one had ever made love to her.
Rhylee had a beautiful baby boy. Dad? He was gone. He came, he left, and it was just the two of them, in a trailer in the middle of a trailer court, surrounded mostly by senior citizens. She was lonely, but she never wanted to see another adult penis in her life.
The baby was born on August 28. It had been a hot summer, and it was now a hot September. Rhylee was exhausted. She loved Kayden, with all her heart, but she had no idea it would really be this hard to be a mom on her own. There was the physical stress of being on call for the baby, twenty-four hours a day. There was the mental stress of trying to make ends meet. Her preacher did everything he could to help out with food, and finding a few dollars here and there to pay the trailer rent. WIC and the other programs didn't provide for much, and she didn't know how she was going to pay for day care because there sure weren't any good jobs available these days. McDonald's wouldn't pay even the trailer rent, let alone the electric and water.
The trailer had a tiny yard in front, that met with the tiny yard behind the next trailer. It was too small for a mower, but she didn't have one anyway. Mostly she let the grass grow, but the landlord had just gotten on her case about that.
She just sat on the steps leading up to her door, crying. She hated that. She didn't want to be a crybaby. She was strong. She was tough. She was beat.
Around the corner of the trailer in front of hers, came her neighbor. Karl was in his mid-fifties, a little rotund and gray-haired (at least what little hair was left). They had been "wave to each other" friendly, but didn't really know each other well.
"Rhylee!" Karl said softly. "What's wrong? Can I help?"
Rhylee shook her head. "No. I'm just so tired. It seems like I'm up every night, all night, and now that bastard Luke screams at me because this pitiful patch of grass he calls a lawn is overgrown. He told me to cut it today, or I am out. Shit. I don't even have a mower!"
"Don't sweat it, Rhylee. If that's your biggest problem, and I know it isn't . . . well, what I mean is . . . well, just don't worry."
He turned and walked away again, without another word.
Rhylee looked in the direction he had gone, shook her head, and whispered to herself, "Weird." Then she stood up, and went back into the trailer where Kayden was crying, again.
She went to the crib, and picked up her crying baby. She felt the diaper – dry. She sniffed. No poopy smell. "I guess you're hungry," she told her baby, and sat on the couch with him. Although her breasts had grown in size throughout her pregnancy, and certainly now that she was nursing, they still weren't huge, and she felt more comfortable without a bra, or with a sports bra. It was so hot today, that she just went without, with just a light tank-top. She pulled up her tank-top and gently guided his mouth to her left breast. He latched onto the nipple, and immediately began sucking.
She heard a whirring noise behind her, and twisted a little bit where she was sitting to look through the sheer curtain out into the front yard. There was Karl with his little electric weed-eater cutting her grass. She started crying again. Other than her preacher, it seemed like people just weren't very nice to teenage unwed mothers. She couldn't believe that Karl was helping her out like this.
It didn't take long until the whirring stopped. Then there was a quiet knocking on her door. Without thinking, she called out, "Come in!"
The door opened, and Karl stepped up into the doorway, and looked at her, holding the baby to one breast, and the other, hanging out, a drop of milk forming at the nipple. Karl turned beet-red. "Oh, Gosh! Oh, I'm sorry. He turned his face away. "I just wanted to tell you that whenever I cut my grass, I'll get yours, too. It only takes ten minutes. Oh, Gosh! I didn't mean to . . . I'm sorry. I'll go now."
He backed down the stairs, his head facing away from her, closing the door behind him. Rhylee just stared at the closed door. Then she smiled. Then she laughed out loud. He looked and sounded so funny! It was so funny she wasn't even the slightest bit embarrassed.
For the rest of September, and into October, Karl was true to his word. Every week he used his little weed-eater to cut the grass around both his and her trailers. After a while, she began to come out and sit on the steps while he did it. He would hardly say a word to her though. He would look up from his work, glance at her, turn red, and then look back down at the grass.
Rhylee thought it was pretty funny that an old man like him was so embarrassed over a little naked boob. She wasn't sure why, but she kind of wanted to rub it in a little. After two frosts, the grass quit growing for the year, and Karl didn't have to come around to cut the grass anymore.
Rhylee decided that she was going to have to do something to tease Karl. It was Indian Summer. It frosted at night, but by noon it was in the seventies outside. She scooped Kayden up in her arms, and crossed around to the front of Karl's trailer, and knocked on his door.
The door opened, and Karl looked out. His eyes opened wide, and his mouth opened into a little round "Oh!"
"Is something wrong, Rhylee? Do you need something?"
"Well, no, and yes." Rhylee replied. "I was just lonely. I don't ever see you outside now that the grass doesn't need cutting. I just wanted to say, 'hi!'" Rhylee stepped right into his trailer, without being invited, and closed the door behind her. "I figured we could sit and visit a little bit."
She went into his living room, and sat in a big recliner. "I hope you don't mind, but the baby is hungry," she said, and pulled her t-shirt up to her shoulders, and let the hem rest on the top of her bared breasts. Again, she guided Kayden's head to one breast, and left the other uncovered.
Once again, Karl turned bright red. He began to turn away, and Rhylee spoke up.
"No, no! We can't talk if you won't look at me! Now sit on that couch. We hardly know each other, and we live right next door! I want to get to know you."
Slowly, Karl moved past Rhylee, and sat on the couch.
"Now, I know you are Karl Christoffer. I know you are a pretty nice guy, or you wouldn't be cutting my grass. I suspect that you're the person that's left a couple bags of groceries on my steps, too." But that's all I know. Tell me all about you, then I'll tell you all about me."
