*Author’s Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
Disclaimers: Yes I need an editor. No, I do not want an editor. Yes it jumps around too much, yes there’s too many people to keep track of, yes it’s too short, yes it’s too long, yes it’s in the wrong category, yes its stupid shit and yes I suck.
For those of you that have not hit the backspace key, I hope you enjoy this little tale.
Scott Collins drove his 1973 Chevrolet cargo van up to the house. He could see his father’s battered old Ford pickup truck parked in the driveway, so he was extra cautious to park on the curb, not on the grass. Even though the grass was brown, entire spots completely barren, his father would not hesitate to start a fight with Scott over parking on his precious lawn.
“He’d here!” Jenny, Scott’s nineteen year old sister squealed as she spotted Scott’s van pull to a stop.
“What the hell is that?” Earl Collins snorted in disgust, looking at the bright orange van his oldest child was driving.
The van was devoid of any windows on sides and rear. The bright orange paint job had obviously been lacquered several times; there was real depth to the images airbrushed on the sides.
The side that was visible to Earl’s disapproving glare showed a Spanish Galleon. On the shores of the scene were several Aztec women, scantily clad, greeting the conquistadors?
Jenny dashed outside and greeted the smiling Scott with a hard hug, and a kiss directly on his lips.
“Man! You looking good, you one foxy mama!” Scott praised.
She wore a tube top of bright red, stretch pants of lime green and a matching short sleeve jacket of lime green,. Her feet were jammed into platform soled half-boots.
“And where are y’all going?” Earl demanded drunkenly.
“Juicy’s, sir,” Scott answered for the both of them. “It’s a disco in Oakleaf, right next to the college.”
“You’re responsible for your sister, hear?” Earl snarled. “Anything happens to her? Coming out of your hide, boy.”
“Yes sir,” Scott replied, almost saluting the large man.
“Okay, come on; we got to get Eduardo and Conchita,” Jenny enthused as she waited for Scott to unlock the passenger door for her.
“Uh huh, let me guess. This Conchita? A real dog, right?” Scott teased as he helped Jenny clamber up into his van.
“No, I told you she’s a fox,” Jenny protested.
She looked around the interior of the van; she’d not been in it before. There was beige shag carpet running along the floor from front to rear, along the walls, even on the side panels of the doors, and on the roof of the van. There were four beige velour captain’s chairs, two directly behind the front passenger and driver’s seats.
There was a small refrigerator on the side behind the rear passenger’s seat, then a pedestal with a fluffy mattress in the very rear of the van.
Led Zeppelin was blaring out of the four speakers that dotted the walls of the fan.
“Man, this is boss!” Jenny praised. “When’d you get this?”
“Buddy of mine’s moving to Mexico,” Scott said. “Had a choice; this or his Harley, so…”
“Reverend Hatfield says that love vans are rolling dens of iniquity, Sodom and Gomorrah on wheels,” Jenny giggled.
“And Reverend Hatfield can bite the big one,” Scott said.
Jenny gave him directions and soon they pulled up in front of the home of her latest boyfriend.
The house was much like the Collins’ house, a wooden structure badly in need of paint, lawn dying in some spots, dead and barren in other spots.
Eduardo Vasquez was a pompous ass; Scott hated him on sight. He had his dark hair styled in the latest fashion, parted in the middle, layered in shag cut, and had a pencil thin mustache.
The conceited young man was dressed in snug polyester slacks and Scott couldn’t swear to it, but he was sure that lump in the young man’s slacks was a sock rolled up. His black fake silk shirt was unbuttoned to his navel, and he sported a thick fake gold chain and heavy gold crucifix.
His hands sported several rings, including a mood ring. Scott wondered why Eduardo’s fingers were not green from the obviously fake gold he was wearing. Even his vinyl platform shoes looked cheap.
When introduced, Eduardo barely even acknowledged Scott.
Conchita was a girl of twenty, with narrow shoulders and wide hips and long black hair. She smiled prettily when introduced to Scott and Scott had to nod approval to his sister. Despite her pear shaped body, and the hint of a mustache on her upper lip, Conchita was reasonably attractive.
Jenny bounced happily, then dragged Eduardo to the rear passenger door of the van.
“Oh, Scott! Love the paint job!” Conchita complimented as she looked at the Spanish Galleon.
“Yeah, that is dynamite,” Eduardo grudgingly agreed.
Jenny and Eduardo took the two rear captain’s chairs. Scott almost pulled over when Eduardo suggested to Jenny that they might be more comfortable in the bed at the rear of bursa escort the van.
“No,” Jenny said before Scott could pull to the side of the road.
Then Eduardo pulled out a cigarette.
“No smoking in my van,” Scott snapped, turning down the stereo.
Grumbling, Eduardo put the cigarette back into the pack.
Conchita and Scott talked, two people on a ‘blind date’ getting to know each other. She let him know she had two children; she’d been married to the father of the two boys, but he had gone to work one morning and had not returned. So, now she was living at home with her two sons, working as a waitress at the local Huddle House.
At Juicy’s, there was a line. The two bouncers were diligently checking identifications; a sign announced that if you were not twenty one, you would not be permitted to enter. The music was pounding, and every time the door opened, the music blared.
“Scott! Hey, Scott, Amigo,” one of the bouncers called out.
“Julio, my man! How you doing?” Scott smiled, herding his little group toward the smiling man.
They slapped palms then went through the ritual of shaking hands and moving into a brothers’ handshake. Julio nodded in approval as Scott introduced Eduardo, Conchita, and his sister Jenny.
And then they were inside.
They managed to grab a table, Scott told Eduardo to order him a Jack and Coke and gave him a ten dollar bill. Conchita asked for a Jack and Coke also, then she and Scott went out onto the dance floor.
Eduardo bought four Jack and Cokes and managed to get back to the table without mishap.
“Come on; let’s dance,” Jenny squealed excitedly.
“What? Mama, I don’t dance,” Eduardo sneered.
Then he drank his drink, Scott’s drink and Conchita’s drink.
He left Jenny sitting there while he went back to the bar and got four more drinks.
Twenty minutes later, a sweating Conchita and Scott returned and gulped their drinks down. Then they returned to the dance floor.
“Come on, Eddy, let’s dance,” Jenny whined.
“What’d I tell you?” Huh?” he snapped. “And, hey, uh, you don’t be calling me ‘Eddy’ huh?”
“Then why’d we come here?” Jenny pouted.
A young man came over and asked Jenny if she wanted to dance. Eduardo jumped up and threatened the young man with a rumble.
“That’s my woman! You don’t come up talk to my woman!” Eduardo screamed.
“Problem?” Scott asked as Conchita held two more drinks.
This gringo come up and ask my woman to dance!” Eduardo shrilled.
“I’m sure he’s sorry, right?” Scott suggested.
The young man slunk away.
“Why don’t y’all go on out there? Chita and I will hold down the table,” Scott said as he gratefully took the drink from Conchita’s hand.
“Dancing is for queers,” Eduardo spat and slumped back in his chair.
“Calling me a queer?” Scott asked.
He took his sister’s hand and pulled her on to the dance floor, eyes daring Eduardo to say anything.
Even though he was hot and tired, wanted a drink, a bit of a rest, Scott danced with his sister. She bounced, wiggled and gyrated happily.
Scott wondered if Jenny was aware of how much her braless breasts jiggled and bobbled in the tube top. He wondered if she was aware of how much her nipples jutted out through the stretchy material.
Scott took after their father, Earl; he had thick, wavy brown hair which he kept cut in an unfashionable style, parted on the right side, flipped over to the left. Two tours of duty in Vietnam had shown the twenty six year old man that fashions come and go; he’d be better off being true to himself. He had one heavy eyebrow over both deep brown eyes, a strong looking nose and a square jaw.
Jenny, however, favored their mother. She was slight of build, with shoulder length whitish blonde hair, parted in the middle, cut in a layered shag. Her face was long, narrow, with light blue eyes and pale pink lips.
And, like their mother, Jenny had been blessed with large breasts and cursed with a nearly flat backside.
A slow song came on and Jenny immediately molded herself against her brother. They danced together, her large chest pushing into his muscled torso.
Finally, Scott steered her back to the table, hoping that the place was too dark for anyone to notice his hard cock, trapped against his thigh.
“Scott! You went to college, right?” Conchita screamed over the music.
“Graduated in Seventy Five,” Schott agreed and nodded his thanks for the fresh drink she shoved his way.
“Einstein here,” she said, jerking her thumb toward her obviously intoxicated brother. “Says you can’t get pregnant from anal sex. Believe that?”
“Of course you can,” Scott yelled. “Explains our father’s existence.”
Jenny screamed with laughter, slapping her brother on the arm.
“And he says if a girl does that? She’s still a virgin,” Conchita went on.
“That part of a man enters any part of a woman? She’s not a virgin,” Scott stated firmly. “She might still have her cherry, but she’s not a virgin.”
“That’s bursa escort bayan what I said,” Conchita agreed.
By the time they left Juicy’s, Eduardo was stumbling, falling down drunk. Scott was exhausted, having danced nearly the whole night with either Conchita, or Jenny.
When they got into the van, Sott jammed a mop bucket between Eduardo’s feet.
“He gets sick? Try to make sure he gets it in here,” he said to the tired but happy Jenny.
Eduardo did get sick, luckily Jenny did guide him into the mop bucket. The drive from Oakleaf, Texas to Great Oak, Texas was a forty minute drive along a poorly marked, unlighted blacktop road. That forty minutes was made all the more unpleasant by the smell of Eduardo’s vomit and the sounds of Eduardo groaning and complaining.
Scott dropped Jenny off first, emptied the mop bucket and rinsed it out on the side of the house, then continued to the Vasquez house.
Conchita helped Scott walk Eduardo to the front door. They left him there, hunched over, mumbling obscenities and Conchita returned with Scott to the van.
She wiggled and jiggled out of her polyester slacks and Scott looked at her slightly pudgy belly and small breasts in the garish dome light of the van. He almost wrinkled his nose in disgust at the heavy blanket of straight black hair that covered her crotch from wide hip to wide hip, from just above her navel to upper thighs.
She grunted appreciatively as he parted her heavy pussy lips with his thumbs and licked up and down her musty smelling pussy.
“Oh, Baby,” she grunted as he tongued her heavy clitoris.
As she began bouncing on his fuzzy pillow, Scott jammed two fingers into her pussy and she squealed in orgasm.
Then he rolled a condom on his cock and plunged into her as she was still gasping and wheezing from her orgasm.
Scott wasn’t big; only six and a half inches, but Conchita acted like he was splitting her in half.
She squealed in a second orgasm and Scott pumped his seed into his latex sheath.
Then they dressed and Scott turned off the overhead dome light.
Outside of the Vasquez house, they found Eduardo sound asleep, hunched over in the doorway.
“Leave him; maybe won’t drink so much next time, huh?” Conchita said as Scott bent to help the young man up.
Returning to his van, Scott checked to make sure no one had left anything of value and discovered Jenny’s short jacket. She had removed the covering the moment they were out of sight of their father and had even pulled the top of the tube top to show off the swells of her large breasts.
Scott hoped their father did not notice her lack of proper covering when Jenny went inside after their evening. But he was sure Jenny had not been that fortunate.
Their father’s overbearing, iron-fisted rule over the Collins household had been the sole reason Scott had joined the U.S. Army the moment he had his diploma in hand. The seventeen year old boy knew that this would almost certainly mean being shipped to ‘Nam. But, as he told Ann, their fifteen year old sister, he had a better chance of survival in the rice paddies than he did at home.
Ann had likewise bailed the moment her diploma was in her hand. She and her boyfriend ran off to Shreveport, Louisiana and married.
David dropped out of high school at age sixteen and moved to New Orleans, Louisiana. No one knew what he was doing, how he was supporting himself, if he was even still alive.
The twenty year old sister, Carol, was currently enrolled at Louisiana State University, studying Education. She had been cursed with their father’s heavy looks, and even his propensity to blubber. Of course, her habit of gorging herself on sweets didn’t help.
Which left Jenny, the baby of the family.
And because of Ann’s running off to marry, and because of Carol’s moving nearly six hours away, and David’s running away, Earl and Joyce did everything they possibly could to keep their baby home.
She was taking Secretarial courses at Great Oak Vo-Tech Institute and working at the local McDonald’s. She had a strict curfew and any date had to pass Earl’s Gestapo treatment.
Scott was surprised that Eduardo had managed to pass Earl’s scrutiny; the nineteen year old Latin boy was a scum bucket.
In his van, Scott debated whether or not to return to his parents’ home, return Jenny’s jacket.
Exhaustion won out, though, and he drove the twenty minute drive to his apartment in Sweet Oak, Texas.
He tried to be quiet as he entered; Pat and Christie were sleeping.
He checked that day’s mail and almost forgot about his roommates’ slumber when he saw the letter from St. Elizabeth’s Parish among his mail.
He carefully slit the letter open and did want to yell again; it was a letter offering him the job of Civil Engineer for the small Louisiana parish. With an annual salary of thirteen thousand seven hundred dollars. This was nearly double what he was earning now as a projects manager for Priestly Construction.
Christie padded into the kitchen, escort bursa scratching her thatch of brown pubic hair. She ignored Scott as she opened the refrigerator, rooted around, then grabbed a can of beer and pulled the tab.
Then, stringy breasts swaying, she walked back into the bedroom she shared with her boyfriend.
Scott was sure much of Christie’s wanton display of flesh was for her benefit, not his. He had a girlfriend his first year at Connelly College that really got a charge out of sex in public places. The thrill that they might get caught, might get punished really rocked her boat.
Scott resisted the urge to get his typewriter out and dash off a letter of acceptance to Myron Blanchette, the Comptroller for St. Elizabeth Parish.
Plus that, Scott was genuinely exhausted. A long, hot sweaty day at work, then a long hot sweaty night of dancing, finished off by some hot and sweaty sex in the rear of his van; he was wiped out.
If Scott had expected any praise, any ‘attaboy’ from his father, he would have been disappointed. But he had not expected this, had not anticipated any sort of praise.
Even so, Earl’s sneer of derision, and scathing remark about ‘sissy boy not willing do any real work’ did sting somewhat.
“And they’re paying you how much?” he spat. “What’s wrong with this world; willing throw good money away like that.”
Jenny’s beautiful blue eyes filled with tears. She tried valiantly to tell her big brother congratulations, tried to say she was proud of him.
Instead, she burst into tears and hugged Scott tightly.
“Oh, and hey, left your jacket in the van,” Scott remembered.
“Yeah, and how long she had that thing on, huh?” Earl snarled. “Bet she took it off minute…”
“Had it on whole night,” Scott lied. “Guess she took it off when her boyfriend got sick on it.”
“See?” Jenny snapped at her father. “Told you.”
She had received five hard swats on her naked backside from Earl’s broad leather belt when she’d come in last night. It would have been more, but Earl could see her feminine napkin in the crotch of her full panties and that disgusted him so much he stopped at five.
Then Joyce received the punishment Earl had wanted to give to his beautiful daughter. Earl pushed the hem of Joyce’s flannel nightgown up and hammered his hard cock into her dry pussy until he came.
“What time you go in?” Scott asked, seeing that Jenny was dressed in her McDonald’s uniform.
“Four o’clock; I’m working the night shift,” Jenny said.
“And, no, Eduardo ain’t giving you no ride home,” Earl snapped. “Either me or your mom will be there get you. Hear?”
“Sir? I can go get her; I’m taking Louella to that Geno’s,” Scott offered. “It’s right there on my way take her home.”
Joyce harrumphed her disapproval of the loud, overbearing girl but Earl did smile a little smile. He liked the loud girl and her penchant for wearing far too revealing clothing and slathering on way too much makeup.
“Ooh, her?” Jenny said. “What about Conchita, huh?”
“Jenny, met her last night, huh?” Scott defended.
“Yeah, that’s fine, you pick up your sister,” Earl agreed.
He smiled, thinking he could go to Cactus Pete’s, have a few beers, let a few twenty one, twenty two year old girls wiggle and gyrate in front of him, showing off their Texas sized titties. There was a cute freckle faced red head there, new girl, called him ‘Sugar Pie’ whenever he came in.
Jenny wiped her face clean, applied a little more makeup, then gave Scott another hug then Joyce and Jenny left the house.
“And don’t forget go get her, hear?” Earl snapped as Scott also prepared to leave.
“Congratulations wow they’re paying you how much gosh son that’s terrific I’m really proud of you,” Scott said as he started up his van.
He cranked up Robin Trower’s ‘Caravan to Midnight’ and drove back home.
At his apartment, Pat and Christie told Scott what his father should have told him; congratulations, it was terrific, they were proud of him.
“Going miss you, man,” Pat said and gave Scott a manly hug.
Scott’s date with Louella did not go as well as he’d hoped. Normally Louella was willing to give Scott a blow job. Being a good Catholic girl, she disapproved of birth control, other than the rhythm method, and even then, Scott had to pull out and ejaculate onto her belly, or if they were doing it doggy style, onto her back.
But when Scott told Louella of his impending move from Texas to Louisiana, she looked up from her three cheese ravioli.
“So, uh, what? We getting married here, right?” she asked. “I mean, that don’t give us no time.”
Then she brightened.
“Unless you coming home every weekend,” she suggested.
“Louella, this isn’t home; this hasn’t ever been home,” Scott said.
“Then what?” she asked.
“Then nothing,” Scott admitted. “I mean, you don’t, and you know this isn’t love. It’s never been anything more than two people having a good time.”
Even though Louella could not deny Scott’s assessment of their relationship, she still insisted on being taken home just as soon as the waiter took her dessert plate away.
“Don’t call us, we’ll call you,” Louella spat as she got out of his van.