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*Author’s Note: Any persons engaging in sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
It was May of 1974; his second semester of college had just ended. He cleaned out his dormitory room and loaded the three cardboard boxes into the back seat of his 1963 four door.
People could laugh at his car all they wanted; he could leave the windows down, keys sitting in the ignition and the car would still be there the next morning. His roommate had had his own car stolen three times the past semester.
Traffic was a major headache from Lafayette all the way to Baton Rouge, and from Baton Rouge to New Orleans, was a nightmare. Thankfully, when he’d filled up the car with gas, he’d had the foresight to also buy a six-pack of beer. A sudden inspiration also told him to grab a Styrofoam cup on his way out of the gas station. The cup came in real handy when he had to pee, sitting at a standstill on Airline Highway.
When he finally reached Transcontinental Drive, the last beer was warm and he was mildly drunk and very tired.
Gary’s mother came out, shrieking her joy at seeing her son. His dad shook his head and commented on the long hair and unshaven face. Behind the folks, Billy playfully gave him the finger.
After a home-cooked meal, a hot shower, and a couple of beers with his dad Gary called it a night. His room was exactly as he’d left it, still had the same musty smell and all.
The next day, he went down to David’s house, but Mrs. Johnson said David and Lizzie were across the street helping Mr. Prescott. His wife was back in the hospital again, the poor woman, so David and Lizzie were doing the neighborly thing.
In 1974, neighbors knew who their next-door neighbors were. If a neighbor needed a hand, the neighborhood gave him a hand. When Mrs. Prescott went into the hospital in 1973, Gary’s dad had sent him down to cut the man’s grass for him. His mom had made him bring her tuna and cheese casserole, which made his dad say ‘hasn’t the man suffered enough? Why punish him more?’
If Mr. Prescott had been alive in 2009, it would have taken the stench of decaying flesh to make his next-door neighbor question whether or not they should check on him. Even then, they would have called an already overtaxed police department to do it for them.
Gary rang the doorbell but there was no answer. He shrugged his shoulders and walked around to the back; maybe they were working out in the yard.
Standing on the back porch, he did not see them. He turned to leave the back yard and happened to glance through the sliding glass doors.
David and Lizzie were helping Mr. Prescott all right. They were cleaning his pipe for him.
Gary had always suspected escort ataşehir that David was gay; here was the proof. David knelt down in front of a standing Mr. Prescott, his mouth bobbing up and down on the man’s fat cock. That was no real big surprise.
What was a big surprise was David’s nineteen-year-old sister Lizzie, on her hands and knees, sucking on her big brother’s cock. Gary stared, open-mouthed, as she expertly worked David’s long, thin member all the way down her throat, then slowly backed up and flicked her tongue rapidly at the bulbous head.
As Gary watched, David’s cock began to spurt thin dribbles of semen onto Lizzie’s tongue. Then he saw David’s eyes begin to bulge, and then sperm began to pulse out of David’s mouth. Even through the closed door, Gary could hear Mr. Prescott bellow in orgasm.
Lizzie looked up and her eyes met Gary’s. She froze for a long moment, then lowered her head in shame, but did not say anything to her brother or Mr. Prescott.
Gary went home, head in a buzz. About three hours later, his mother called him downstairs; he had a phone call.
“Hey, man,” David cheerfully said. “My mom said you stopped by!”
“Yeah,” Gary agreed. “She said you were helping out Mr. Prescott,” Gary said.
“Yeah, his old lady’s back in the hospital; me and Lizzie went over, you know, did some stuff for him,” David said. “Paid me real good, thirty bucks.”
“No kidding? That is pretty good,” Gary agreed.
“Want to go to the Swamp Room, get a Swamp burger?” David asked. “Maybe shoot some pool?”
“You’re on, man!” Gary cheerfully agreed. “Lizzie coming?”
“What? That dog?” David sneered.
“Didn’t seem to matter to you when you were letting her blow you,” Gary wanted to say, but didn’t.
Lizzie wasn’t ‘a dog,’ as David had called her. True, she would win no beauty contests with her multitude of pimples and slightly large nose and thin lips. Her long brown hair was parted in the middle and hung down to her shoulder blades and her smile wasn’t just with her lips, but enveloped her entire face.
From the neck down, more than one guy had said, Lizzie was a real fox. Her tits were more than handfuls, her waist was slender, but her hips were nice and full.
‘Put a bag over her head, man!’ they’d laughed.
“Yeah, that dog,” Gary said. “Bring her, man, I haven’t seen her in forever.”
“Why?” David asked, suspicious.
“Just told you, man,” Gary said. “Haven’t seen her in forever, man.”
Lizzie wore a very tight knit top with her bell-bottom blue jeans. She reached out a hand to shake Gary’s hand, but Gary surprised and delighted her with a hug and a kiss to her lips.
David kadıköy escort glared at Gary for kissing his sister but Gary ignored him.
“Hey Lizard,” Gary said, calling her by her Old Nick name.
“Don’t call me that!” she shrieked and slapped him, causing the three of them to laugh.
After a few beers, and a few game of pool, David pulled Gary aside.
“Man, Mr. Prescott paid me in something besides moolah,” David whispered.
“Yeah?” Gary asked.
“Yeah, mother fucker gives me three killer doobies, man!” David said.
“Aw, no shit?” Gary said. “Cool!”
They sat in Gary’s car, parked behind the Swamp Room and passed the joint back and forth. Lizzie choked and coughed on the acrid smoke, causing both Gary and David to laugh at her.
Gary waited until David had taken a mammoth hit off the joint before springing his question.
“So, how long you been sucking Prescott’s dick, faggot?” he asked.
After David stopped hacking and coughing, he slugged Gary in the arm as hard as he could.
“Man, mother fucker! What the fuck you talking about, huh?” David wheezed out.
“He saw us,” Lizzie quietly said.
“What?” David asked, eyes still streaming tears from his coughing fit.
“He saw us, saw me sucking your dick, saw you sucking Tom’s dick,” Lizzie said and began to cry.
“Look, man, that was the first time,” David started to say.
“No it wasn’t, ass hole,” Lizzie screamed out. You were fucking me for a year now! And you two been fucking each other for longer than that!”
Gary started the car and slowly backed out of the parking lot.
“Where you going?” David demanded.
“Taking you home, faggot,” Gary said.
“Fuck you,” David spat.
“No thanks,” Gary said.
The trio was quiet until they reached the Johnson house. Lizzie got out of the car first.
“Hey, uh uh, where you going?” Gary asked her.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
“Get back in the car,” Gary ordered.
“Fuck you man, you isn’t taking my sister nowhere,” David argued.
“Yes I am, cock pucker,” Gary said and balled up his hand in front of David’s face. “Got anything to say about it?”
David stood on the sidewalk in front of his house and glared hatefully as Gary and his little sister drove away.
“Where we going?” Lizzie asked.
“Lakefront,” Gary said and slid the ashtray open. “Dumb ass David left one of the doobies right here.”
She laughed merrily at the thought that they’d outsmarted David.
“Why you fucking your brother?” Gary suddenly asked.
“Don’t know,” she said and looked at her lap.
“You like fucking him?” Gary pressed.
“No, not really,” maltepe escort bayan she said.
“Then why you fucking him?” Gary asked again.
“I don’t know, all right?” she screamed at him. “Maybe it’s because no one else will fuck me, all right?”
He pulled into a vacant spot and turned off the car. She sobbed heavily and slapped at him when he touched her arm.
“Come on, let’s sit on the sea wall,” he suggested and she followed him to the concrete steps that led down into the brackish water of Lake Ponchartrain.
“Aw, shit, David’s got the lighter,” Gary complained as he felt his pockets.
“That’s all right,” Lizzie said. “I really don’t like smoking that stuff anyway.”
“Listen,” Gary said and stared out into the blackness. “I don’t want you fucking him no more, you hear?”
“Uh huh,” she said listlessly.
“And I don’t want you fucking old man Prescott no more neither,” Gary went on.
“He don’t fuck me,” Lizzie said. “He only fucks David.”
“I don’t care,” Gary said. “You don’t need to be playing around with them.”
“Fuck you, Gary, act like your all big shot, act like you’re too good for me, don’t even tell me ‘bye when you go off to college, then want to come back here and tell me what to do?” Lizzie yelled and stomped across the muddy ground toward his car.
They were silent as he drove them to her house. He pulled up in front of her house, but when he reached across the seat to touch her, she slapped his hand away and got out of his car.
He realized she was right; he’d acted like a real jerk toward her, joining in with the others as they criticized her face and praised her body. He knew she’d had a mild crush on him; the looks she’d given him whenever he’d come over to see David were plain to see. But around his friends, he wanted to look cool, slick, and dating Lizzie Lizard would have cemented his stature as uncool.
Well, looking around, he didn’t see any of those guys he’d tried so hard to impress. He didn’t see any of the foxes he’d tried to get dates with either. In fact, right after high school graduation, he hadn’t seen any of them, except for David. And Lizzie.
It took nearly the entire summer, but Gary finally got Lizzie back into his car. Again, they went out to the Lakefront and sat on the steps.
The promise ring was a cheap ring, but Lizzie wore it as if it were the Hope Diamond.
Mrs. Prescott died of the mysterious illness. In 1981, the Prescott children requested another autopsy and it was discovered that Mr. Prescott had very slowly poisoned her. He died of a massive heart attack in jail, awaiting trial.
David contracted AIDS in 1986 and committed suicide rather than go through the lingering death of AIDS.
In 2009, Gary and Lizzie celebrated Thirty-two years of marriage. Their seven children, when they’re teasing their mother, call her ‘Lizard.’ To tease their father, they like to call him ‘Big Shot.’
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