How Did You Know? Ch. 03

I rest for a moment, continuing to kneel at the porcelain throne, trying to gather my wits. I hear footsteps behind me, and suddenly my back is warmed by naked flesh pressing against me as her arms come around my rib cage and give me a hug. I'm just about pissed enough to swing around and knock her God knows where, when this voice says: "Come on Phil, let's get you cleaned up."

Shit that's not Beth's voice I'm thinking as the fight goes out of me and I struggle to stand up. Becky helps me gain my feet and now we're standing in front of the mirror, me naked as a jay bird and her with what looks like one of my shirts on. The shirt is unbuttoned and I can see her from shoulder to mid thigh; but while the shirt is open I can't see her breasts. I can see the tattoo and the beautiful triangle of hair below it, but her breasts are just beyond view under the shirt.

"Here take this," she says, as she hands me a toothbrush and uncaps the paste. I look down at my hand and hold the brush as she puts paste on it. She turns on the tap and I go ahead, brush my teeth as she slips away and turns on the shower. A minute or so later she pushes me into the little tiled stall, drops her shirt and steps in with me. It's then I notice the nipple rings, which is odd 'cause I don't remember seeing them when she took off my boots last night. Last night? How can I be so sure it was last night? Hell, it's still dark outside so my time trouble seems to be continuing.

I'm facing the shower, both hands on the wall, head thrown back trying to clear my mind and I feel her hands starting to rub shampoo into my head. She's gotta be standing on her tip toes I think, so I buckle my knees a bit and her hands now access my entire scalp. When done, a wash clothe starts going over me, beginning at the shoulders, coming across the chest, down my back to my butt, continue down my legs and then back up to my torso. This goes on for a minute or so and then the wrung out wash clothe is deposited on the soap dish in front of me and she begins to wash my cock with her hands and a bar of soap.

Neither of us has said a word, and we remain silent while she washes me. Then putting the bar of soap in my hand, she turns me around and says, "My turn," as she presents her back to me. I go through the same ritual with her, and when she's completely soaped up, I turn her to the shower head and rinse her off. By now I'm hard as a rock, as I turn her around and look into her eyes. Pulling her to me as we kiss a nice long, soft, wet kiss, I hold her tight in my arms. She pulls away, turns around, shuts the shower off and says, "Let's not do this here Phil, okay?"

I nod stupidly, open the shower door and grab a towel. I hand it to her and take one for myself. We begin to dry ourselves off, and as soon as I'm mostly done, I walk out of the bathroom and sit down on the edge of the bed. She comes out with one towel around her body, and one on her head, gets on the bed directly behind me and begins to rub my shoulders.

"You feel better now?" She asks.

I just nod, and after about a minute of pure bliss on my shoulders, I scoot back, lay down on the bed and she comes into my arms. We just lay there and silently contemplating who-knows-what. She's snuggled into my side with me on my back and her knee pulled up lying on my legs. It's cozy and I like it. Just holding her is warmth for my body as well as my soul and I'm liking the feeling.

"What time is it?" I ask her.

"Oh I'd say it's around one o'clock in the morning." She answers.

"Sunday morning?" I ask, trying to get my bearing.

"Yes," she responds.

"So... did we..." I begin.

"No, you passed out." She says, but it's a neutral thing, she's not mad, near as I can tell.

"So how did we, ah..." I start saying.

"I got your shoes and socks off and you started crying." She says. "I was holding you and you passed out. Big as you are, I don't know how I got you undressed, but I did, and under the covers too. Then I called Beth..."

"Beth?" I interrupted in a panic. "You called her?"

"Shhh..." she says, putting her finger over my mouth. "I'm talking, so don't interrupt."

I nod and go silent.

"Anyway, I told her what had happened, and she asks if I'm going to stick around. I told her I could stay all night if she wanted me to, and she did. Said you shouldn't be left alone, or you might wake up and start drinking again, so I came back here, got a shirt out of the closet and crawled in with you. I intended to sleep on the other side of the bed, but as soon as I lay down you came over, put your arms around me, and held me tight."

"Sorry," I say.

"Don't be, you know how nice it is to be held? I fell asleep then, and it wasn't until an hour or so later that I wake up as you kiss your way down my belly. Just as things start to get interesting, you fall asleep again. That had to be around ten o'clock or so, but I fell asleep again too and until you woke up a bit ago, we both slept pretty soundly."

"When did you put these in?" I ask, flicking a nipple ring.

"When I got ready for bed, see I don't usually wear a bra, which I guess you noticed when I was taking your boots off. Nipple rings stand out so much under a shirt or sweater. Mostly I wear them at night or when I'm wearing a bra during the day."

"I gotta know something." I said.

"Yeah?"

"Are you telling me you got into bed with me and all you had on was the shirt?" I ask. I'm curious about that, but don't know where I was going with it when I ask.

"No silly, I had panties on when I got in here with you, I'm not a complete slut." She said with a twinkle in her voice.

"So what happened to them?"

"Well, when you took your trip south on me you took them off." She answers.

"Oh, and did I..." I begin.

"Go down on me, or get me off? No, that didn't happen. Seems it took all your energy to get my panties off and you went to sleep as soon as you did." She giggled then.

"Sorry again." I said.

"Don't be, by then I was more tired than horny and the truth be told, I'd rather you didn't in the shape you were in."

"Meaning?"

"Phil, drunk men, hell even drunk women, with a sober partner is a bit much. The one that's drunk is using more force than they should, and their partner isn't having such a good time. You were drunk and I was sober, and if you'd have continued I'd have let you, but in all honesty, if you and I are ever going to have sex of any kind, I'd really like it if we were both sober."

"Oh," I said.

Now Becky rolls over, comes up on my chest with her hips and legs still lying next to mine and pulls up even with my face. She stares at me for a bit, and then lightly kisses me on the chin.

"So, are you feeling better now?" She inquires.

I nod my head; pull her to me and we kiss. It's soft, a little tongue touching, and in one smooth move I tilt to my side, she slides to the bed and we hold each other tight.

"God I love this," she whispers.

I agree, pull her to me hard, put my hand on her breast and gently pull the nipple ring and she thrusts her hips to me.

Maybe I'm not too good at descriptions, but for the next hour this little woman and I had some amazing sex. Oral for quite awhile and then the actual act itself. At one point she has her legs over my shoulders and is clawing at the sheets as I continue the assault on her lovely body. Just at the height of her climax in that position, she reaches up with both hands, takes my face and pulls me close. The kiss sets her over the edge and I fall off right behind her. When it's over, and I collapse on top of her I realize how very small and tiny she is and quickly roll off to the side. I bring her into my arms and hold her close. Then one long, slow, lips-being-mashed kiss, while I manipulate her nipple ring and gently massage her pussy with my knee and she goes blowing off on one last orgasmic trip.

We lay there then, neither saying a word, until Becky breaks the silence with an earthquake.

"Jesus Phil, you sure know how to treat a woman, Beck's right about that." She says and then goes stiff as I sit bolt upright in bed, mouth open, staring at her.

Becky lies there wide eyed; knowing she's just betrayed both her best friend, and her best friends' father. Well, that's not true, Bethany betrayed her father; Becky just let the cat out of the bag.

"Oh fuck Phil, I'm sorry." She says as she sits up and puts her arms around me.

But I'm not having it, I swing my legs over the edge, gain my feet, grab my robe and head down the hall to the kitchen. Knowing my cigarettes are in the bedroom, I open the refrigerator, grab a pack, and use the stove to light one.

I walk into the living room, flop down on the sofa and stare at the curtains. In a minute I hear Becky coming down the hall and she sits down next to me, her hand on my shoulder. She has my shirt on again, but it's still not buttoned, and now I'm not only distracted by what she's told me, her boobs are starting that sweet melody in my mind and I'm not concentrating so well.

"Look, we need to talk, please." She starts.

"What's to say, I've done something I never should have, and now three people know about it, and I'm sure before the weeks over the whole fucking town will know." I state flatly. Well, that's not exactly true either, that octave my voice lost in the bar is back and maybe even up a little from normal, it sounds squeaky to me now.

"That's not true Phil; I'm not saying a word to anyone." She says.

"You and I both can be quiet, but Bethany, well there's the problem isn't it? What else did she say, or should I ask who else did she say it to?"

"You don't understand you really don't." Becky says.

"Oh really? She slips in here in the dark, fucks my brains out, slips out of here and then proceeds to tell all her friends. Now what don't I understand about that?" I'm glaring at her now.

"She's not telling everyone. She told me, and she had a very specific reason for telling me." Becky starts, and then finishes by saying, "You just don't know the whole story."

"Oh really, what the hell don't I know? That what she did was terribly wrong and that doing it with me put me on the same sick level?"

"It's a long story Phil, and you have to believe me, you just don't know the half of it."

"Which fucking half is that Rebecca Lynn?" I'm shouting now.

"My half Phil, you don't know a bit about my half." She lowers her eyes to the floor and I know something is desperately wrong but don't have a clue what it is.

Half turning to her, I snub the cigarette out, and taking her chin in my hand, lift her face until she's looking at me. I'm startled at the tears; they're real, and they're bad, these are not tears of joy.

"What honey, what's going on here? What don't I know?" I ask softly.

"I really thought this was all behind me a long time ago. But I know now I'll carry it for the rest of my life; Jesus Christ, I don't know where to start..." She tried to drop her head, but my hand wouldn't let her.

"Come on Beck, talk to me, help me here, I'm feeling as damaged as you look."

She pushed my hand away, sat back on the couch, her shirt falling completely open and she makes no attempt at modesty.

"Do you like what you see?" She asks out of nowhere.

"Yes, you look lovely, naked or with clothes on." I say as honestly as I can.

"I'm okay to look at?" She says oddly.

"Of course you are Beck, you have an amazing body, and you're drop dead pretty, but what I like the most about you is your smile. You buckle my knees with your smile."

She teared up again, and really begins to sob.

"Come on honey, what's wrong now?" I ask.

"You're the first man that's ever told me that." She says.

"Bullshit..." I start, but realize she's telling me the truth.

I'm worried now 'cause something's going on here and I can't put a finger on it.

"Please Beck, talk to me; what's this about?"

"Let me start at the beginning." She began. "When I was about fifteen my folks split. It was all supposedly my mom's fault, and I don't know if it was or not. Shit Phil they both hung in the bar way too much, and apparently mom found a boyfriend, they split town and dad was left with me. You know that part, don't you?"

I nod, because I did know that.

She paused and pointed to the cigarette pack. I told her to hang on and I go back to the bedroom to retrieve my lighter. Coming back, we both light up; she takes a long deep drag and then goes on.

"Things were fine for about six months, I mean they weren't fine, but dad wasn't home much and I was okay with that 'cause he was drunk most of the time he was home."

"On my sixteenth birthday, he comes home, gives me my present, has dinner and leaves. I don't care one way or the other but about one in the morning when I'm sound asleep he comes in drunk as hell and rapes me. No asking, no telling me what he's going to do, he just does it. He pulls me from bed, tears my nightie off, then my panties, takes his cock out, rubs lotion on it and sticks it in me like I'm a slot machine or something. He was six two and I was five three, hell I couldn't stop him. It hurt like the devil, but he didn't care and after he'd popped off once, he lubes my ass and goes after that. He did things to me and made me do things to him for the next two days. He wouldn't let me go to school; he just kept me naked, and fucked me so many times I lost count. Anyway about mid week he says I can go to school and if I tell anybody he'll deny it and if we're ever alone after I've told, he'll kill me. I believe him so I go and don't say anything to anybody. Beth knew something was wrong, but I wouldn't tell her either; I didn't dare."

I'm stunned; I had no idea she'd been through that. I knew a lot about Rebecca Lynn Thomas; she'd lived with us for over a year, and was in some heavy counseling too, but this? This I didn't know.

"That goes on for about a year and a half. He fucks me when he wants to, makes me blow him when he wants to, and constantly tells me how fucking ugly I am. He tells me I've got a boys body and I should be thankful he's screwing me, 'cause nobody else would. Now that's a time in my life when my girlfriends are beginning to date and I'm very aware no one is asking me out. So I'm not only stuck with no where to go, I'm beginning to think my dad's right, that I am ugly and tit-less."

"Then one weekend comes and I know he'll go at me again, he always did on weekends, but this time, the only thing that happened is that he makes me cook supper for him and then leaves. I'm relieved I got off that easy and I go to bed around eleven o'clock. About one o'clock, he wakes me up and tells me to lose my pajamas, and follow him. I don't give a shit any more, normally when he does this he wants to bend me over the kitchen table and butt fuck me with the lights on, or take pictures or some other weird shit. So I figure that's what's going to happen. I think if he hurries up I can be back in bed in about twenty minutes, so I get up, take off my pajamas, and leave the bedroom with him behind me playing with my butt as we go down the hallway."

"As I walk into the kitchen, there to my surprise, is a man sitting at the table. I stop dead in my tracks and dad just shoves me as hard as he can into the room, laughing as he does. He tells me this buddy of his is going to give him fifty bucks if I blow him and a hundred bucks if dad fucks my butt while I'm doing the blow job. I'm staring at the table and sure as hell there's a hundred dollar bill on it."

"I'd given up Phil, I didn't care; it had quit hurting long before. I figure I'll just do it, go to bed, and run away the next morning. But as I'm sucking this guy off and dad's pluggin' away at my ass I realize this is a sick new twist to the whole thing. I'm trapped forever in his weirdness and that makes me start to think clearly. When the guy blows his load, I look up, smile at him and dad goes off right on queue. I put my elbows on the kitchen table and ask if the guy wants to fuck me. Dad's a bit surprised, and so is his buddy. It's like I've joined their sick little game, so what the hell. The guy says absolutely, and he'll kick in another fifty. Then I said; how about a hundred and I'll let dad take Polaroid's of us while I suck and fuck you and anything else you want."

"Now dad is pretty drunk, but he recognizes an opportunity when he sees one, so while he goes to get the camera, the guy fishes out fifty more bucks. I remind him that it's a hundred for the pictures too and he says he doesn't have it. I told him that's fine. Let's do the pictures, I'll hang on to them til tomorrow and he can come back to get 'em when he's got the extra fifty bucks... He agrees."

"The next hour was pretty sick, but all told there were about twenty pictures, and in several of them my face is clearly facing the camera and the money is clenched in my hand, which is what I wanted."

"They finally give it up and the man staggers out of the house. Dad's so drunk now he's having trouble holding the camera, but he wants one last shot at me. He tries to get me to blow him and while I do it, he's not having any luck getting it up. Finally, because he's lying on the couch anyway for this great blowjob he thought he was getting, he passes out."

"I go back to my room, pack my shit, put the pictures they'd just taken, along with the hundreds dad had of me and him, and put them in a suitcase. Then I write dad a note."

"I tell him I've gone to the police with every fucking picture he had and that he can expect to have them come real soon and put him in jail. I really was going to do that, but the only person I knew I could call that late at night to get me safely out of there was Beth, so I called her. She picked me up on the corner about twenty minutes later."

"We came out here and talked most of the night. I told her I was fighting with my dad and she didn't press me. Eventually she did find out 'cause I told her everything, but that was later, not then. You know what happened at ten the next morning don't you?" She finally finished, looking at me.

"Jesus Christ Becky, that's the morning the police came and told us your dad had shot himself." I said stunned.

"Bingo, and you and Polly took me in because nobody could find my mom."

"Did the police find the note?" I ask.

"No, dad sat at the kitchen table and shot himself. The only thing I saw when you guys took me over there was the ash tray on the table with paper ashes in it. He must have burned my note, so at that time nobody in the world knew but me. Well, I and that sick fuck friend of his, but at the time, I didn't even know who he was." She finished, looking at me.

At this point I'm ready to just give up and die. Too much has happened in the last twenty four hours to even comprehend, let alone try to grasp. Becky's gotten quiet and I'm at a loss for words, so we sat there, both smoking and both lost in our own thoughts.

"You knew something was wrong with me Phil, come on," she finally says.

"Becky, honest to God, I know Polly went to some of your sessions when you were in counseling, but I was led to believe it was physical abuse, and you seemed to do okay after about eight months."

"Ha!" Becky laughed. "I was in counseling for eight fucking years Phil. Thank God dad had a big insurance policy and because he had it so long, the suicide part wasn't in effect. Between the policy and the property I had a bit of money. The only fucking good thing that prick ever did for me was die."

"God Beck, I knew you were shy and withdrawn, and honest to God, Polly just said you had issues. I figured it was about your mom running off, your dad shooting himself, and you in the end felt you'd been abandoned. I just tried to make sure we all made you feel welcome here, comfortable, ya know? Then I go and screw it up and have sex with you; I'll bet you love me for that." I finish.