Abstract Circles

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I had the munchies. I don’t know and I don’t care what they call it today; seems like almost everything I say today is ‘so old school’ that it is laughable. We used to call that passé’ but even passé’ is old school.

Anyway, I had just smoked a bong of some primo shit; oh, let me guess, ‘primo’ is old school too. So, is calling my weed ‘shit,’ right?

Nonetheless, I had smoked a bong of some great weed and had some heavy-duty cravings. A foot-long chili cheese dog and some fried mozzarella sticks would do nicely. I drove my Ford F250 down and parked along the back.

Yeah, I know, my gas guzzling monster truck is also ‘old school’ and certainly gets me lots of dirty looks from those in their itty-bitty kiddie cars. Whatever. I just know, when I put on my turn signal? I’m not asking you if I can pull over; I’m telling you I’m pulling over.

I could have pulled up into a slot and yelled my order into a speaker. Then a girl would skate out, my order in hand. But I prefer to sit under the canopy, on one of their wrought iron benches and watch all the people drive up, watch all the people drive away. Like I said, that was a bong of some primo shit and I was feeling pleasantly mellow and in no hurry to do anything but eat and sit and watch the world going by.

A pimple faced girl took my order, got it wrong twice, apologized profusely, but finally got it right and promised me it would be right out. I selected my bench and smiled at a cute red head that was eating an order of French fries. She saw me looking at her and made a goggle-eyed face at me. I just smiled and made my own face at her.

“Trey? Order’s ready,” the pimple faced girl called out.

“Rude to stare at people,” the red headed girl said.

“Yeah, it is,” I agreed. “Even if I am fucked up.”

The red head again goggled at me, but this time it was a genuine goggle face; I don’t think she expected that kind of response. I got my order, verified that it was correct and sat down.

“What you mean, you’re fucked up?” the red head asked, sliding along her bench to get closer to my bench.

“Mean, I just smoked a bowl of some good, no, some great weed,” I said and took a big bite of my chili cheese dog. “So, I’m nice and fucked up.”

“Really?” she squealed.

“Uh huh,” I said, mouth full of hot dog.

She looked around, but there was no one else under the canopy. She leaned closer to me.

“You uh, you got any more?” she asked, voice a breathy whisper.

“Mm-hmm,” I said, nodding.

“You uh, I uh, I can, I can smoke some?” she begged.

She was cute, with shoulder length carrot orange hair, a button nose and big brown eyes. Her nose had a few freckles that went from full cheek to full cheek.

Her pale shoulders were bare; I don’t know what they call that top she had on. It was just a band or collar around her short throat and the material of her shirt joined the collar in the front and the back, but there were no sleeves. It was a light green in color, and it looked cute on her.

“How old are you?” I asked, taking another bit bite of my dog.

“Eighteen,” she verified. “Just graduated.”

“Oh? Good for you,” I said.

“So? I, you let me have some?” she asked again, stuffing the last of her French fries into her button mouth.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Sure. Why not?”

She got up from her table, leaving her empty french fry container and a bunch of wadded up napkins on the table. When she stood up, I saw she had on a pair of denim shorts and her legs were pale, with some freckling.

Her arms and torso were small; her breasts looked like they were barely a ‘B’ cup under that top. But her hips and legs were large.

I looked at her wide hips and thick thighs and calves and the girl smirked.

“Yeah, I’m a pog,” she said. “Deal, huh?”

“What’s a pog?” I asked, putting my paper tray onto my lap.

“A pog. Fat ass white girl?” she asked.

“Oh. Then shouldn’t that be a fog?” I asked.

Turns out I really am old school, even though I’m just thirty-seven years old. I didn’t know this, but ‘Fat’ is no longer spelled with an ‘F’ but is now spelled with a ‘Ph.’ I remember a friend of mine had signed my yearbook with ‘phuck you’ and we’d both laughed at that. I wonder if he should get any credit for Fat becoming Phatt.

“You just going leave your stuff?” I asked, nodding toward her trash.

She gave me a look that told me I was so old; actually, expecting her to pick up after herself. I gave her a look that told her I thought she was a brat for not picking up after herself.

“I’m Trey,” I said, dunking a mozzarella stick into the plastic container of marinara sauce. “Trey Lott.”

“Hmm? Oh! I’m Lisa May,” she said.

“So, Lisa, you just graduated, huh?” I asked.

“Lisa May,” she corrected. “Not Lisa. LISA MAY.”

Then the snotty little brat snagged one of my mozzarella sticks. She even dunked it into my marinara sauce and bit off the end. She went to double dip her stick and I moved the container out of reach.

“What. casino oyna Ever,” she said and finished off the mozzarella stick.

I threw my tray, along with her stuff into the covered garbage can and led the way to my truck. Lisa May gave me her opinion of my truck and I gave her the address of my trailer.

“Why you telling me that?” she asked.

“Oh. I didn’t want you to have to embarrass yourself and ride there in my horrible truck,” I said.

“What. Ever,” she said and got into the truck.

In my trailer, I gave her a choice of drinks and fixed her a pretty stiff screwdriver. I grabbed my bong and packed it down with about a thumb of my weed.

We sat on my couch and smoked that bowl, then another one.

I helped Lisa May out of her top and played with her small tits and then started sucking and biting her surprisingly large nipples. I got her out of the snug shorts and found that her sweet little pussy was covered by a triangle of dark pussy hair.

“Not my real color,” she said, tugging on a lock of her red hair.

Lisa May Barrett was a virgin when she entered my trailer. She wasn’t a virgin when she left.

Oral sex was a bit of a challenge; I’m six two and I’d be surprised if Lisa May is five feet. I got a crick in my neck as we did sixty-nine. I also had to keep telling her to watch her teeth. I didn’t have to tell her to swallow, though. She figured that out on her own.

She had a fragrant aroma and a good, musky taste. She had a fat little clitoris that peeked out from her hood and was very responsive when I sucked it into my mouth.

After we came down from our orgasms, I flipped her onto her back, knelt between her tick thighs and put my dick to the mouth of her plump little pussy. I don’t know if it was the alcohol and weed, but she did not react to having her hymen ripped away. She did react when I was balls deep in her incredibly tight, unbelievably hot pussy. She wrapped those massive legs around me and squeezed me tight, holding me prisoner inside of her.

Lisa May was giggling drunk and pleasantly stoned when she staggered out of my trailer. She assured me she could walk home; she was fine. I didn’t like letting her walk home like that, but I was too drunk and stoned to drive her.

And in my job, getting a DUI would be the kiss of death. I work in an office that does drug screenings for offshore oil companies. Yeah, after sixteen years of being a rough neck, I got hurt on the job. Soft tissue damage is easy to prove and hard as fuck to disprove.

Isn’t that a fucking hoot? I’m this pot head from way back, and I run screens on others to see if they’re doing anything they shouldn’t be doing. My boss is a meth head and the secretary of our office has about a hundred white chips from Alcoholics Anonymous, but I can’t ever remember a time I didn’t smell wine on Debbie’s breath. In fact, I keep three bottles of cheap red wine in my refrigerator for whenever Adam, Debbie’s boyfriend refuses to get her any wine.

Debbie is pretty homely, but it doesn’t bother me. The price for one bottle of wine is a blow job so I just see the top of her head. The price for two or three bottles is up the ass, so I just see her chubby ass pushing back at me.

For whatever reason, Debbie claims that she won’t cheat on Adam, so only Adam can fuck her pussy. Yeah, it doesn’t make sense. And before you think I’m a total dick for taking advantage of a drunk woman, let me tell you, Debbie’s the one set the prices, not me.

Anyway, I let Lisa May leave my trailer and pulled the stained sheet from my bed. Dumping the sheets into the washing machine, I could again see Lisa May’s chubby legs and big bouncy ass in my mind’s eye.

There had been a woman in my trailer park years ago that was shaped much like my new friend. She had dark, curly hair, beautiful brown eyes, a button mouth and a shy smile. From the waist up, nice, ordinary looking body, cute ‘c’ cup titties with big light brown nipples. She would actually orgasm when I would bite down on her nipples.

And from the waist down, it was an explosion. She had very wide hips and extremely tick thighs. Me and my buddies in the trailer park used to call her ‘Miss Elephant Thighs.’ Not to her face, you know. But behind her back?

She was about thirty, maybe thirty-one years old. Right now, I’m racking my brain, trying to remember what her name was. Shit, it’s right there, on the tip of my tongue. Anyway, I was eighteen, just out of high school, not a fucking clue of what I was going to do, other than get drunk and stoned as often as possible, and when I’m not getting drunk and stoned, maybe get some pussy when Miss Lampkin asked me if I could come over and help her.

Miss Lampkin. Valerie Lampkin. That was her name.

Anyway, I went into Miss Lampkin’s trailer to help her with her kitchen sink; she wanted to install this new faucet and a plumber would have charged her a hundred bucks put it in for her.

I read the instructions; it was a pretty nice faucet. The sprayer was in the faucet canlı casino itself and the faucet even pulled out so you could rinse your pots and pans with it.

Valerie gave me twenty bucks and some very nice pussy for installing the faucet. I used the twenty bucks plus some of my own money and bought my mom one of the faucets and put it in for her.

The next day, I went back to Miss Lampkin’s trailer and asked her if she had anything else, I could do for her. She gave me a beautiful smile and let me into her trailer. I learned how to eat pussy, how to eat ass and how to do a woman up her ass. Her pussy was covered from wide hip to wide hip by this thick mess of pussy hair. It even covered her ass hole, hair everywhere. But I learned how to make my way through the dense carpet to her sweet inner lips.

Then, right when I got back in from my first two weeks working on an offshore oil rig, I found out that Miss Lampkin had moved out of our trailer park. She had sold her trailer to this mean-tempered old woman and moved out. My mom said Valerie had gotten married; she also said Valerie was pregnant and that was the reason she’d married her long-time boyfriend.

Me? I was pretty shook up about it. In fact, I was broken-hearted. Over the summer, I had pretty much fallen in love with Valerie; had thought she felt the same way about me.

So, when I saw my new friend’s wide hips and thick thighs, my cock popped straight out. Just thinking about Lisa May’s Phatt ass had another erection tenting my boxers now. Remembering my first love, Miss Lampkin kept my cock stone hard until I gave into temptation and stroked myself to a monumental squirt as I relived the things I had done with Valerie.

It was another Saturday; another few bowls of primo shit and I again had the munchies. Upon arriving, I saw Lisa May and a young man sitting at one of the outside tables. What is with the ‘hat on backward’ shit anyway? To me, it just makes the wearer look as ignorant as they come.

The young man that took my order got quite indignant with me when I corrected his order-taking skills. Thankfully, the manager came over and sent the kid out to clean up the area. The manager was able to get the order of ‘foot long, add mustard and order of mozzarella sticks, no I don’t want anything to drink’ correct on the first try.

The moment I sat down, Lisa May abandoned her friend and bounded over to sit next to me. She clutched onto my arm and put her (dyed) red head against my shoulder. As it had been about a month since I’d seen her last, there was quite a bit of brown roots showing in her hair.

I saw the sour look of her friend and pointed it out to Lisa May. She shrugged.

“What? Travis? We’re just friends; he went to my high school,” Lisa May said.

“Uh huh, uh, Honey? Bet he was thinking you two are a little more than just friends,” I quietly said, then got to my feet to grab my order.

Lisa May waved Travis over to our bench. The young man did slam his way over to the bench and plopped down next to Lisa May.

Lisa May made the introductions. Travis ignored my greeting and stared away from both of us as Lisa May and I ate.

“This is the guy had the…” Lisa May said to Travis, whispering ‘Weed’ or whatever the current word for marijuana may happen to be.

“Huh! No shit?” Travis said, finally acknowledging my existence.

“Uh huh,” Lisa May said, then asked me if I still had any weed.

Travis wasn’t a bad looking kid, even if I thought the hat backward thing made him look stupid. He had straight brown hair, bland brown eyes, slightly large nose and a metallic smile thanks to his orthodontic braces. His frame was scrawny, even if he was only about five foot seven.

We crammed into my truck, and once at my trailer, I made Lisa May another screwdriver. Travis got a whiskey and cola and I made myself a whiskey on the rocks.

We smoked a big bowl of my weed and Lisa May shrugged out of her tee shirt. Both Travis and I took turns playing with Lisa May’s small mounds and she giggled happily. Both Travis and Lisa May wanted another drink and I got to my feet and made the drinks. When I brought them back, Lisa May and Travis were making out and Lisa May’s shorts were bunched around her ankles.

I sparked up another bong and Travis struggled out of his clothes while we smoked. Like I said, he was pretty scrawny; even his cock was scrawny.

I also got out of my clothing and saw Travis goggle at my manhood. I’m not huge, but I am proportional for my six-foot two-inch height.

That bowl reduced to ashes, our drinks gone, Lisa May got onto her hands and knees on my couch. I slid my cock into her wet pussy and Travis shoved his cock into her mouth.

Travis doesn’t play well with others. He just jammed his cock into her mouth and fucked her face in a haphazard manner. He did not let Lisa May enjoy sucking him, didn’t let her savor the experience of having two men make love to her. He didn’t allow Lisa May the time to enjoy having one cock in her tight pussy, one in her kaçak casino pretty mouth.

I held myself still in Lisa May, knowing Travis would only take a millisecond or two. Then, when he was done, I would take my time, pleasure my lover.

Which is pretty much the way it happened. He grunted, his eyes rolled back in his head and he was done.

I slowly pulled out of Lisa May, then slid back in. My hands went from her wide hips to her sweet little titties. In seconds, I had her nipples nice and hard and she was grunting and squeaking as I tugged on her nipples.

Travis was quick to recover but Lisa May did not let him have her mouth again. So, the little twit knelt on my couch and spanked his little monkey while I fucked Lisa May’s tight pussy.

Lisa May squealed in orgasm and I pumped a load into her tight pussy. And Travis picked that moment to squirt his load onto Lisa May’s pretty face.

I was still cumming but Lisa May jumped up, slapping at Travis. My last squirt hit Lisa May’s chubby thigh and she again squealed in disgust.

She used Travis’s tee shirt to wipe his jizz from her face and then wiped my jizz from her thigh and threw the tee shirt at Travis.

“Get out! Shrimp dick mother fucker, get out!” she screamed at him.

Travis told her ‘no’, so I backed up her demand. I’m a lot bigger than Travis so he got the message and dressed and left.

It took another two drinks and a bowl of my shit to get Lisa May’s resentment under control. But, after smoking that bowl, Lisa May and I went into my bedroom. This time, while we fucked, I introduced a finger to Lisa May’s incredible ass. By the time I pumped a third load into Lisa May’s pussy, I was plunging two fingers in and out of Lisa May’s poop chute.

We smoked another bowl and Lisa May sucked me to yet another monumental squirt before she finally got dressed and left. I did feel kind of bad that she had to leave, had to walk home in the twilight, but I honestly was too fucked up to drive and even as small a town as Abbeville is, all it takes is one observant police officer and my driver’s license is gone.

It was nearly two months before I saw my friend, but I didn’t think much of it. Each time we had run into each other, it had been a different time during the day. And because of Bryce’s sudden heart attack, Debbie Chang and I were having to put in a few hours on Saturdays.

Years of meth abuse had finally caught up to Bryce Thibodaux and at thirty-eight, he’d suffered a mild heart attack. As anyone who has ever had a heart attack will tell you, it’s only mild when it happens to someone else. But Debbie or myself were pulling double duty, doing our job as well as Bryce’s job.

But one Saturday, right after the State of Louisiana decided that they were going to close the Abbeville office and move it to Lake Charles, Louisiana, I drove to the drive-in to get my fix of hot dog and mozzarella sticks.

I spotted Lisa May sitting at a table with another young lady. The red was pretty much washed out of Lisa May’s brown hair. Her face was pale, pinched as she looked up and saw me.

“Hey,” I smiled and nodded.

She didn’t smile but did nod in greeting. Then, when I sat down, Lisa May left her friend and plopped down next to me.

“I’m preggers,” was Lisa May’s greeting.

“I’m what? I mean, you’re what?” was my brilliant response.

“And fucking Travis? Get this shit huh?” Lisa May snarled, not responding to my intelligent response.

“Trey?” the manager called out.

“Fucking asshole; goes straight to my daddy, tells him I’m over at some old guys place, getting drunk and doping and fucking; believe that shit?” Lisa May snarled.

Travis broke the number one cardinal rule of anyone under the age of twenty-one. He snitched. He tattled. With no reason to do so, the backward hat wearing dipshit went to Lisa May’s father and told him what his precious little angel was doing.

I don’t know what Travis hoped to gain out of that. Did he think Mr. Barrett would smile, shake his hand and thank him for letting him know his little angel was a horny girl? Did he believe Mr. Barrett would demand that Lisa May not exclude Travis from fucking her?

No, I don’t think that was Travis’s motivation. I believe that Travis just wanted to get Lisa May Barrett in deep, deep shit with her father.

“First time I been let out,” Lisa May continued and grabbed one of my mozzarella sticks.

I let her double dip in the little tub of marinara sauce. I’ve had my lips on her lips, my tongue in her mouth. I’ve had my lips on her other lips and my tongue in both her pretty little pussy and her sweet little pucker. So, what was a little of her spit in my marinara sauce?

“Your dad know you’re…?” I asked.

“No,” Lisa May said quietly.

“And? What are you going do about it?” I pressed.

“I don’t know,” she said and grabbed another mozzarella stick.

Lisa May’s friend left. The girl didn’t even say anything to Lisa May; just turned and walked away from the eating area.

I watched the girl’s compact butt cheeks as she walked. I’m an ass man from way back and like looking at a woman’s ass. Lisa May gave me a jab to the ribs for staring at her friend’s ass.