*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.
*.*.*
Graduating from JFK High School was a somewhat unusual occurrence; most students of Penny Parish tended to drop out, become guests of the state penal system, or simply live off of the welfare system. Graduating without visible tattoos or body piercings was also an oddity. Graduating from JFK High School carrying a 5.0 GPA was unheard of.
"Helps if your daddy is the almighty Reverend Roland Truesdale," Lowell Truesdale thought as his step-mother, Lilah Truesdale fussed over him.
With a jammy, wet kiss to Lowell's lips, Lilah turned her attention to another student. Becky Wright sidled up to Lowell, thrusting her 32C breasts against him.
"Hey, you going to Amber's party after?" Becky whispered, making sure that Lowell's step-mother was out of earshot.
"Uh, yeah, as if," Lowell scoffed. "Uh, who's my dad? You know there's no way I can get away for that."
"Too bad," Becky said, thrusting her breasts more firmly against him. "Bet we'd have bunch of fun."
"Don't worry, Becky," Lowell thought as the recorded music climbed in volume. "You'll get plenty of chances get yourself knocked up."
"Just won't be by me," Lowell thought as the sixteen students, the sixteen graduates of 2017 lined up to march onto the stage.
Students, faculty and guests sat through a long-winded and pretentious speech by Principal John Paul Thompson. The effeminate man seemed to believe that all had come to hear his opinion of the deplorable education system of Louisiana and his beliefs of what needed to be done in order to improve the current system. Finally, the man ended his litany of complaints and introduced Lowell Albert Truesdale, the valedictorian of 2017.
Lowell did not have any cue cards, or pages. He had memorized his four minute speech. He wanted his speech to flow with a natural cadence.
"Much as a ship needs a good, sturdy keel we have been given a good, sturdy keel by the faculty and staff of John F. Kennedy High School. Our home life, parents, siblings, neighbors have provided each of us with a tiller by which we steer our course with," Lowell raised his voice in passion. "Class of two thousand seventeen? Let our dreams be the wind that fills our sails and propels us into our future. Our keel will keep us upright, our tiller will steer us true, and our dreams will fill our sails."
"That's how you give a speech, jerk-off," Lowell thought as he sat to a round of enthusiastic applause.
"See, boy?" Roland said as everyone gathered together after the ceremony. "That? That's why I think you'd be an excellent minister, a man of God."
"You would do so well at Atwell," Lilah agreed.
"I know, I know," Lowell sighed. "But like I've told both of you; I just do not feel the calling. I'd be a total fraud standing in front of a church."
"Not that it ever stopped you," Lowell thought as his father accepted the congratulations another parent offered to Lowell.
Lowell did not go to Amber Duhon's party. Instead, he and Roland and Lilah and Lowell's two sisters, Mindy and Gail went to Dairy Queen to celebrate. Lowell made seven year old Gail giggle and sixteen year old Mindy roll her eyes as he sat, mortarboard on his head as they ate. Again, as others came up to congratulate Lowell, it was Roland that jumped in to accept the accolades.
Over the next two months, Lowell did manage occasionally to escape the ever-vigilant eye of Reverend Roland Truesdale and meet up with Becky Wright and Amber Duhon down at the Bend. On the stretch of sand along the tiny tributary of the Mississippi River, Lowell did manage to technically lose his virginity. He used Amber's mouth and Becky's mouth very willingly and enthusiastically. He also learned how to use his mouth and fingers on Amber's pussy and Becky's pussy. By the time August 6th rolled around, Becky said Lowell was almost as good as Amber when it came to eating pussy. Amber said Lowell was better at eating pussy than Becky; Lowell didn't need to be drunk in order to muff dive.
On August 6th, the Truesdale clan stood on the clam shell parking lot of the Double J Diner and waited for the Greyhound bus that would take Lowell to Myndee University. Roland was in a foul mood; it truly irked him that Greyhound would stop in front of such a hedonistic, deplorable site as the Double J Diner. True, Greyhound had started using the diner decades earlier, when the diner had been the Stepping Stone Diner. Back then, the diner had been owned by Heloise Decker.
Now, the diner was owned by the great granddaughter of Heloise. The girl was openly living in a same sex relationship, claimed that she and another young woman were married.
"God says, the Bible says a marriage is between a man and a woman," Roland snapped, back squarely turned away from the den of iniquity.
Most egregious, in Roland's eyes, was not that the two women were living in an openly homosexual relationship, or that both had somehow become impregnated, nor their scandalous manner of dress, purposefully displaying their flesh in such provocative manner. No, most egregious was that neither woman ever donated any time or service or money to his church.
"Satan shall welcome you both with open arms," Roland thought darkly as the early morning heat and humidity enveloped the Truesdale family.
The arrival of the large Greyhound bus made Gail and Lilah break into sobs. Both hugged Lowell tightly. Mindy gave Lowell a smirk and hugged him tightly, grinding her lush figure against him. She made him jerk when she licked his lips.
"Bye boy," a dry-eyed Roland said, giving Lowell a firm handshake.
"See you at Thanksgiving," Roland called out as he herded the three Truesdale women to his sedan.
Twelve stops, eight hours later, the bus ground to a halt in Lowenburg, Arkansas. Lowell went into the convenience store, microwaved himself a bean burrito and grabbed two bottles of apple juice. Then he gave in to his one vice and grabbed a king sized Reese's peanut butter cup.
Ninety minutes later, a second Greyhound bus pulled to a stop in front of the convenience store. The five passengers wearily stepped up, the late afternoon still unbearably hot. Lowell politely took his place at the rear of the line and waited.
Waiting was no hardship, though. Directly in front of him was an attractive blonde that wore a tank top and khaki shorts. The shorts were very short indeed, giving tantalizing glimpses of the young woman's sweetly rounded buttocks. As if to give Lowell a better view, the woman pulled her long blonde hair up off of her neck.
"My Gawd, it is so fucking hot out here, come on!" the girl complained as they waited on the bus driver to open the door of the bus.
Again, she hefted her honey blonde hair and fanned her sweating neck with her free hand. Lowell reached up and touched his freshly shorn head. Roland had dragged Lowell down to Putnam's on August 5th and ordered a severe buzz cut for his son. The hair cut was simply Roland Truesdale once again flexing his parental muscles, proving to Lowell that he, Roland Truesdale was in charge, was in control.
Finally, the bus driver did open the door. Three passengers climbed down and wearily walked to the convenience store. The bus driver stepped off and waited for the boarding passengers.
"Afternoon," the man politely greeted each new passenger.