Shelter, Chapter 4

by Glassbottom

Straying from Georgia's First Person Point of View, as I may do also, briefly, in upcoming chapeters, here I felt I needed to tell something more than meets the eye...

Dear Jo,

Hi, it's me Billie. I know I haven't wrote anything for a very very long time but what can you write when everything is the same and nothing ever changes? It's the same old shit day after day. Mom and her big book and her meetings and Sara getting all the attention and getting her way all the time and good old big sister wanting to smack her but I protect her instead. She's afraid of the dark and everything else and that's a good thing. There is bad things in the dark and there is bad things all around. There is Jack and he is there in the dark and he is there in the light and there ain't never any different.

Last night he was talking again about marrying mom so he can be our daddy and I just wanted to stab him in the heart with a stake knife. Sara keeps sitting on his lap and I don't like it and I tell her to move and she asks why and I have to act like I want him for myself and he loves that. He loves it whenever I have to do something. He loves to be in charge of the house and he tells me if things don't go his way he will have to leave us and my mom will fall to pieces and start drinking again.

But I am not writing in you about that shit, Jo. I want to tell you about Georgia and how I saw her again and how I got her to kiss me and touch me but this time it was because I told her to and it was me doing most of the kissing and it was me pushing her fingers against my puss. I told her how I thought it was with me and how I think it is just me and that I think I make other people want to have sex with me and she was very nice and told me no I was just a kid but I said no, not anymore.

I'm not a little girl anymore, Jo. You are my friend under the bed. Did you hear me when I got home? Did you hear me lay down and take off my shorts and play with myself? I was thinking about how I made Georgia touch me and I got those tingles and I got all wet down there. Did you hear me make those funny sounds? Did you feel me

I gotta hide you now. Jack is knocking at the door.

B

The little girl with the brown curls who was lying on her tummy in a long t-shirt, on a mattress on the floor in lamplight, her toes flexing playfully as her legs kicked up behind her, the girl who was writing in a spiral notebook with a black pen and sticking her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she wrote with the knit brow of concentration, that little girl suddenly jerked when there came a tapping at her bedroom door.

"It's me," a man said.

"Just a minute," she said.

The girl scribbled something in her notebook with a frown on her face and then closed it with the flip of her wrist. She lifted the side of her mattress and slipped it underneath, feeling to make sure it was out of view before she climbed to her feet and went to the door. She turned the lock at the center of the door horizontal and then turned the knob, pulling the door open.

He was in his robe, his dark hair, with a creeping pattern of baldness, damp from the shower. He was a very tall man, large, with big hands, big legs. His eyes were blue and he had an easy-going smile that he gave to the little girl.

"May I come in?" the man asked.

"If I said 'No', what would you do?" she asked.

"Your little sister is right down the hall."

"That one's getting' old," she said, but she held the door back for him to enter. "Come on in."

He came in and he watched her close the door and lock it behind her. He watched her turn to him and he untied his robe and he let it fall open and he began to fondle his penis while looking at her. The girl, whose name was Billie, looked at him without reacting either way.

"I heard that you're going to be washing cars down by that burger joint on Crane Street," he said.

"Yes, I am," the girl said.

"You know the place is going to be crawling with perverts, don't you?"

"Per-verts?"

"Men who like little girls," the man said. "Most of the men who are going to be stopping are going to be perverts, baby."

"Is that right?" Billie smiled mockingly.

"That's right, sweetheart," he said. "Pe-do-philes... and you are one tasty piece of meat to satisfy their appetites."

Billie watched the man's penis thicken and lengthen and throb as he stroked it, breathing harder and harder as he watched her. He finally stopped playing with it and he let it stand erect from his belly on its own. Billie looked into his eyes. He smiled at her.

His name was Jack. This was his world and she was just a part of it.

"To hell with the burgers. Who's going to want burgers after they see you?"

Billie approached him and reached for him with both hands, taking hold of his cock. His eyes fell closed as her hands touched him all over, all up and down.

"You're such a dirty little slut," he said. "I wish you'd suck it for me."

"I don't want to," she said.

"Mold my clay then?" he asked her.

"Okay."

Jack slipped out of his robe and went to the mattress and lay down on it while Billie sat down between his legs. He scooted up so that his butt was almost in her lap and his cock and balls were easily accessible to her. She extended her legs out so that he could fondle and caress them as she reached under the mattress and produced a small bottle of lube.

Pouring it on his cock and setting the bottle aside, Billie coated him liberally with the lube. She then began to play with his cock and balls like she was molding clay into a piece of pottery, up and down and all around, slow and easy and then fast and then slow again, as she looked into his eyes and listened to him breathe very hard, calling her one nasty name after another...

.....

Her name was Georgia and she had brown eyes that often hid behind dark sunglasses and she had raven hair that usually hung neat about her shoulders. She was thirty-five but she had a dark complexion and she had lived a healthy life for a very long time, recent eating and drinking habits notwithstanding, so she appeared young for her age.

She couldn't sleep that Saturday morning. She woke up early, kicked the sweat-soaked covers off, and began cupping her small breasts, pinching her dark red nipples.

"Good God, Georgia," she said to herself, moving one long, shapely leg against the other and then reaching one hand down between them, spreading the dark lips of her vulva, her fingers probing the lips and spreading the pink inside. "Oh... Billie..." she whispered as she found her clit.

The bed-sheets were twisted and her black hair was all over the place and her eyes were sleepy but still she did this, rubbed herself feverishly, bucking against her fingers, her eyes closed, moaning and gasping until the orgasm seized her...

"Oh... oh... oh... oh... fuck... "

Like an agonizing plea, it echoed off the walls of her lonely bedroom.

A moment later she lay there looking at the crack in the ceiling, her hand on her tummy just above her navel. She turned her head sideways on the pillow. There was a picture of a family, a man and a woman and a boy and a girl. The woman bore a striking resemblance to her. There was another photograph of just the boy and the girl. She closed her eyes as a tear rolled down one cheek.

A little while later, after her shower, after drying off and drying her hair and dressing in a t-shirt and shorts, she left her apartment, descended the stairs from the balcony, walked around the building to the parking lot and got in her car. She drove out of the parking lot in her brown Chevy Malibu and looked at the car clock.

"Damn, it's early," she said.

She had breakfast. She sat there a while. She bought a paper and read some of it while she was there. She killed time.

Finally... finally... she paid the bill and she left, her waitress frowning after her.

She drove down the strip, drove down 43, drove down to the business district, and she saw a couple of girls out by the road with painted signs. CAR WASH. The girls out by the road were young teenagers. One was white with black hair and dark-tanned and very curvaceous while the other was black and very skinny with braids and a ball cap. Both wore t-shirts and cut-offs and sneakers and they were shouting.

Georgia turned off the road and pulled into the driveway of a large parking lot under a sign that said "PETE'S BURGERS – family owned and operated since 1969". There was one car being washed as Georgia went to park hers in the waiting space.

She shut off her car and dropped her keys in her purse. She took a deep breath and let it out and she got out of the car. She closed the door.

"Georgia," a pretty blonde haired woman said, "hi."

"Hi, Jennifer," Georgia said. "You look like you're having fun."

"One way to keep cool, right?

"That's one way to look at it."

"You're next."

Georgia stepped back and turned and adjusted her sunglasses. She looked to the left and to the right as she backed away to allow the kids to wash her car. There were men to the left of her and men to the right of her. There were a couple of women washing the car, and a few girls, but the men only seemed interested in one of them.

She had brown, sun-streaked curls that hung damp about her head and shoulders. Her wet, summer skin glistened in the sun's rays all down her naked back, all down her smooth legs, and everywhere that the string bikini did not cover.

Georgia closed her eyes a moment, then opened them again, allowing them to creep slowly over the figure of the girl, over places on the girl's body that had been previously unseen. The flat but firm, almost sculpted, tummy. The buttocks. Oh so round, so perfect, protruding, and as she bent over to dry the hub caps of this gentleman's car, almost presenting...

"Hi," Billie said to Georgia when she saw her.

"Hi."

"How do I look?" she whispered.

Georgia didn't answer. Jennifer called the rallying cry. She had Georgia move her car over and told her to relax, grab a chair.

Georgia watched the girls wash her car. But she especially watched Billie. And Billie seemed to be giving her a special show, bending over extra low to wash this and scrub that.

"Good job, Billie," Jennifer said. Georgia covered a half-smile when she said that. Jennifer knelt down next to Georgia and smiled. "Isn't she something?"

"Oh... yes..."

"Poor kid's been through a lot. She sure is beautiful. She's gotta watch herself, lookin' like that in this world."

Across the street, sitting in his car, Jack shook his head.

"God damn," he said. "God damn it."

The girl sitting in the passenger's seat, a little girl about seven or eight years old with brown hair and hazel eyes, tanned with a red striped top and blue shorts, she frowned at him.

"What's wrong, Jack?" the little girl asked. "Aren't we goin' to get the car washed by Billie an' 'em other girls?"

"No," Jack said. "I think I'll wait. I think I'll wait and have my own private car wash."

The little girl, whose name was Sara and was Billie's little sister, looked up at him with a furrow in her brow.

Georgia kept shifting in her seat, and when the car wash was finished, she was more than generous. She gave $10.

"That is so nice. Isn't that nice, girls?"

"Thank you, Ma'am," came a chorus of voices, including that of Billie, and just as Georgia was preparing to back out, Billie, standing with her back to Georgia's driver's side window, bent over from the waist to stretch, touching her fingers to her toes and giving the woman a show.

Georgia drove away, her hands shaking.

"Oh my God..."

......

It was Jennifer who dropped Billie off at her house later. She climbed out of the car in her bikini, wrapped in a beach towel, and she said thank you and goodbye to Jennifer before coming up to the front porch in her flip-flops. Jack was waiting for her, sitting there on the bench.

"You were s'posed to come get your car washed," Billie said, "and then come pick me up."

"Oh, really now," he said. "Come get my car washed and watch you in your little bikini being a little whore?"

Billie climbed the steps to the porch and went to the door. She opened the screen and went inside and let it slam behind her. She went to the fridge and took out a bottle of juice, uncapped it, and tipped it back thirstily. It dribbled from the corners of her mouth and dripped down her body.

"I'm sorry," Jack said, standing at the kitchen doorway. "You just... make me crazy, little girl. I don't mean to call you those bad names."

"You don't?"

"You still want to wash my car?"

"Me?" Billie pointed to herself. "By myself?"

"I don't even care if you do a good job and... I'll pay you."

Jack smiled and took out his wallet. He opened it and took out a twenty dollar bill. Billie looked away and put the cap back on the juice before putting it back in the fridge. She started to walk away. Jack caught up with her and took out another twenty and a ten.

"Fifty bucks," he said.

Billie looked down at the money and started to take it, but he snatched it back. He smiled and shook his head.

"When you're finished," he said.

"You promise?" she asked.

"I promise," he nodded.

She followed him to the garage and she stood and waited for him to open the door and pull the car out, but he didn't. He ran the water into the bucket from the garage sink and attached the hose to the faucet. He gave her the hose.

"I'm goin' to wash it in here?" she asked him.

Jack turned on a boom box and set himself up a lawn chair.

"What did you think, baby?" he asked. "I was going to pay you fifty bucks to wash my car and that was it? Oh no no no."

He turned up the volume on his boom box and the music filled the garage. The music was rock, something from his time, with a heavy beat, something she could move her hips to. Billie removed her towel and tossed it aside. She hosed down the car and then herself. Jack began to sweat in the hot garage.

With the soapy sponge, Billie began to wash his car, moving her hips to the music.

"Oh, baby..." Jack said. "Yes, Billie, yes..."

He began to sweat very heavy and he took off his shirt and his pants. His penis was poking up, pitching a tent in his boxer shorts, and he removed those too. He sat in the chair, stroking his cock, watching her, then he got up and began hovering about her as she washed.

Quickly, with both hands, Jack pulled both strings of her bikini top and it fell away. He stepped back. The girl continued to wash the car, dancing topless to the song on the boom box as Jack jerked off to her. The song ended and then another one began, but not just any song. This song got Jack going... and it got Billie going because it had an amazing beat.

"Honky Tonk Woman, baby," Jack said, reaching out and grabbing Billie's ass as it bopped back and forth and up and down. "Shake it... oh yes... shake it!"

He moved up behind her as she was scrubbing the hood of the car and he lowered himself, pressing the length of his cock along the cleft of her buttcrack. He untied the strings of the panties and yanked them off so that Billie was completely naked. He reached around her and held her as he ground his cock against her ass.

"Shake it... shake it..."

Jack reached for the bucket of sudsy water and poured some over the girl's protruding buttocks, making his path slippery. He tossed the bucket and it fell over.

"God, you little piece of ass..." he growled. "Oh, I want to fuck you so bad..."

He backed off and turned her around, and he lifted her up on the hood of the car, and he started to spread her legs as Billie looked at him, her eyes glazed, a pair of tiny pink nipples standing erect from barely noticeable but beautiful, confection-sized breasts.

"Oh... baby... grab it... "

The cock was above her belly and she was reaching for it when it jerked and throbbed and swelled, spurting hot semen onto her chest and her belly. She grabbed it with both hands and finished him off, listening to him moan.

Afterwards, he took the hose and he hosed her off, he dressed and he turned to leave, opening the door.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Billie asked him.

"Oh, yeah," he said, looking at her as she sat on the lawn chair with her towel wrapped around her. He took out his wallet, took out the ten and two twenties, and tossed them on the wet floor."

Dear Jo,

Jack is a pig, but I got $50.

Billie

Billie closed her notebook with the three bills in it. She buried her head in her pillow and began to sob.

(TO BE CONTINUED)