Ginger Blue

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A wild young man matures, finds love and builds a life.
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Once again my editor "Wires" has worked wonders with one of my stories. I want to thank him for his efforts to make this story more readable. As usual, however, the errors that remain are solely mine.

*****

Alfred Thomas was startled awake from his sleep by heavy pounding on the door of his small apartment. When he roused from his drunken stupor, sprawled across his queen sized bed, his heart was pounding as badly as was his head. The sun was streaming in through the south facing windows in the small apartment he and his grandfather built for him over his grandfather's old, detached, two car garage. As his eyes opened he was further moved to wakefulness by a kick and the slam of a small fist in his chest when the small woman sleeping with him was also awakened. When Al moved his stomach rolled and he felt acid reflux in his throat. Al clenched his jaws to keep the bile and sour beer from spewing out of his stomach onto the floor of his admittedly not very clean apartment.

The two half asleep, half drunken, and completely scared people in the bed were tangled together in each other's arms and legs as well as in the damp sheets. Al glanced at the thermometer showing the outside temperature when he felt how sweaty he was. According to his thermometer it was already 95 degrees Fahrenheit outside his abode.

Al turned his attention to his bed partner next. The beautiful young woman's breasts and neck were covered with love bites, hickies and whisker burns. Her little pussy gaped open and a white substance seeped from it. The cheeks of her ass and her thighs had a crusty substance on them as did the small tuft of pubic hair at the top of her pussy. There were dark circles around her bloodshot eyes. Angel Moore looked at Al with worry on her face. She muttered, "Who the hell is that? OH, GOD, you don't think it's Daddy do you?" She grabbed the covers and started to pull them over her but they were too entangled with both bodies to adequately cover her nudity.

Al groaned as he looked at the woman in his bed. He listened once again to the pounding on his door. His mouth was cottony. He was sick, weak, and shaking. Part of his shakiness was the fear or shock from waking to the pounding on his door. Part of his problem was the copious amounts of cheap beer he, his friends, and his last night's entertainment, consumed during and after the party they attended. Damn, he felt like shit. He had only been sober one morning in the last five days since graduating from high school. It didn't matter that both the people in the bed were only 18 and too young to drink legally. Some form of alcohol was always available if you were willing to pay and knew the right people.

Al finally croaked out, "What?" He slowly, painfully moved to sit on the edge of his bed. He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned on his bracing arms, head hanging. He wasn't sure he wasn't going to have to make a run to his small bathroom and throw up. The world was spinning and his stomach was rolling from the alcohol still in his system. He had worse shakes than he could remember ever having before after a night of drinking and partying.

After Al responded to the noise coming from the door it swung open and his grandfather stormed into the apartment. He immediately moved though the small living room and into the bedroom. Don Thomas noted instantly the state of health of his grandson and the latest slut to spread her legs for him. He was somewhat surprised the woman was with Al in his bed. He expected him to be alone. Normally, Al didn't bring his women back to the farm. Don was further surprised when recognition hit him and he recognized the nude woman trying to cover herself and hide. Her head was hanging low; her face was crimson from her embarrassment.

Don let his gaze linger on the young woman for a moment longer then turned his attention to Al. He said, "Damn it, boy, this crap has to stop and I mean right now. Your boss called a few minutes ago. He wanted to know where you were again. He said this was the third time this week you didn't call or come in to work. He fired you son. He said not to even come back for your last pay check. He'll mail it to you. I come to check on you and find you in bed with the preacher's daughter. What the hell's wrong with you, boy? You can't go through life like this. You get Angel home and get your ass back here. We need to have a long talk, son."

Al felt his temper surge. He glared at his grandfather and said, "Ok, Ok. Just give me a minute will ya? Jeeze."

Don glared at the couple once again and turned without further speech. When he left the bedroom he closed the door on them. He didn't exactly slam the door, but he did close it very vigorously. It was obvious to Al that Gramps was pissed. He felt the fear knot in his belly. Gramps was local Golden Gloves champion when he was young and he still knew how to box. If anything, he was stronger now than he was then. Gramps also ruled his domain with an iron fist. Oh, he wasn't mean or anything, but he WAS the boss. After Al's parents died and he moved to live with his grandparents, it didn't take Gramps long to correct Al's attitude. For a couple of years gramps kept Al on a short leash. If Al followed the rules and did his homework and chores it was all fine, life was good. If he disobeyed or failed to do his assignments for school or complete his chores correctly at home, punishment was sure and swift. Gramps believed strongly in "spare the rod and spoil the child" discipline. Al could still feel some of his spankings in his mind.

Like many young people who grew up in the country Al was strong from physical labor. He also had somewhat of an attitude that many rural boys seemed to carry. Pride was oozing out of his pores and disrespect—actual or perceived-was not tolerated. Unfortunately, Al had yet to earn much respect from the adults in the community and they treated him with much disrespect, even loathing, because of the way he bedded many of the young women and a few of the wives in the area. Al was a typical modern teen. He liked to play first and work only when he couldn't get out of it. He knew his grandfather loved him but he was equally positive he did not show him the respect Al thought he deserved. After all, Al was tough and mean. He won all the fights he ever got into with boys his own age.

Al stood and felt his stomach lurch once again. He swayed then staggered into his bathroom to clean up. Just before he turned on the shower he said to Angel, "Sounds like Gramp is pissed. You need to get dressed and I'll run you home soon's I finish my shower here. If you want to clean up first you'll have to hurry."

Angel threw the sheet off and began to move around the room looking for her clothes. She moved slowly, sick and in pain. She, too, felt her stomach lurch from the alcohol imbibed the night before. She was thirsty, so thirsty. Angel didn't see her clothes in the bedroom so bent and looked under the bed. They weren't there either.

When Al saw her on hands and knees beside the bed looking under it he grinned and felt his worn out cock stir. Even as lousy as he felt the sight of her dangling boobs and sweet little cunt peeking out between her slightly spread thighs aroused him. He rapidly moved behind Angel, knelt between her legs, grabbed her hips and thrust his now hard cock back into her still draining pussy.

Angel grunted and squealed when Al drove his 7 ½ inch cock into her. She moaned and let her head and shoulders rest on the floor of Al's small apartment as she savored his mad thrusting. Much faster than expected Angel felt her pussy flutter and clench against the invading cock. She began to moan and thrust against Al as her climax neared. Al grinned at her response and began slamming harder into the small woman as she drove her ass back to meet his thrusts.

Angel screamed and clamped down on the cock thrusting in her sore pussy. Al felt the rapid clamping and release as Angel's orgasm rushed through her. With a roar he pulled her tightly against his groin and pumped yet another load of his potent seed into the small woman. Al grinned as he looked down on Angel. He wondered how a woman who looked so pure and virginal at church meetings could be such a cock hungry slut with him away from her parent's influence.

With a moan, Angel allowed herself to collapse onto the floor then she rolled to her side. She looked up at Al and said, "Honey, that sure wasn't taking a shower like you told me you were going to do."

Al smiled and replied, "Yeah, but it sure was better. I got us both wet again, doesn't that count? The sweat's running off us both." He slapped her ass gently and said, "Now, you need to find your clothes and we need to go. You want a shower first or not? I think I'll wait until I get back home."

Angel looked down at her body and grimaced. "Oh, yeah. I better have a quick shower. If Daddy sees me like this there will be even more hell to pay than I am going to get for being out all night."

Al picked up the clothes he wore the day before and began to dress. Angel quickly stood and scurried out into the living room and small kitchen area looking for her clothes. All she found was her short skirt. She walked back into the bedroom to confront Al. She said, "Al I can't find my blouse or underwear. I can't even find my shoes. Do you know where we left them?"

Al continued dressing for a moment then said, "No, can't say as I do."

A frightened look flashed across Angel's face. She looked at Al and said, "What are we going to do? I can't go home in just a skirt. Daddy'll have a shit fit. We have to find my clothes Al."

As Angel moved into the shower Al walked to his dresser and pulled a T-Shirt from the drawer. He threw the shirt into the small bathroom, looked at Angel and said, "You can wear my shirt and your skirt. That should take care of it."

"Al. You know I can't go home half dressed. Daddy will kill me if he sees me without a bra. He's gonna be pissed enough about me being out all night without seeing me half naked, as he calls it. Besides, one of your T-shirts will fit me like a dress, not like one of my blouses or other tops. Damn, why'd you let me get so drunk anyway?"

Al looked at Angel and grinned. He said, "Because I wanted to fuck you and you're more fun when you're not worrying about what your prudish preacher father thinks or might say."

"Damn you, Al. This isn't funny. I don't know why I keep running around with you. You always get me into trouble."

"You run around with me for the same reason Sam and Pru do. You all want me to fuck you and we all have fun together. Now, you can't tell me you didn't enjoy what we did last night either so don't even try."

Angel lowered her head and almost whispered, "I know, but you could make things easier if you would."

"Not my problem. You all are my women. Your pussy belongs to me and how you handle things is your problem unless some asshole makes it mine. Now come on, let's go. I need to get back here to see what I can do about Gramps. He's MY problem."

When Al pulled his old truck into the driveway at the parsonage Angel's father The Right Reverend Thaddeus Moore came out the door and stood on the front porch. He stared at Al while Angel got out of the truck. As soon as she was standing outside the truck Reverend Moore moved from the porch to meet her. When he got to Angel the Reverend grabbed her arm and began pulling her toward the house. He was berating her for staying out all night. When he smelled her breath he began lecturing her on the evils of alcohol. Al also heard him making comments on her attire or lack thereof before he put his truck in gear and backed from the driveway.

When Al got back to his grandfather's home he found Gramps sitting under his "whittling Tree". Al's grandfather sat back in his chair and held his knife and current whittling project while he watched Al get out of his truck. Al walked slowly toward his grandfather. He wasn't looking forward to another lecture, especially in his condition. When Al got about five feet away from where Gramps sat his grandfather used the hand in which he held his knife to gesture toward the other yard chair beside and slightly facing the one he sat in. He said, "Sit down, son. We need to have a long talk here and it aint agonna be easy for either of us."

Gramps leaned back and stared at Al for what seemed like forever before he sighed and began talking. He said, "Al, you're a grown man in almost every way possible. You will be 19 in a few months and have graduated high school. I know you think you have the world by the short and curlies. We all felt like that when we got out of school, son. You do have a lot of knowledge that people in my generation didn't have when we got out of school. What you don't have is the answer to the world's problems or the ability to survive on your own without more education and more work.

"Son, you have the basics, that's all. Oh, sure, you might be able to go to town and get a job in a factory but in this economy you could be laid off in weeks even if you were hired. But you haven't even done that. All you've done since you came to live here with your Grandma and me is eat, go to school and screw every young girl you can talk into standing still or laying down for it. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if you figured out how to fuck while walking or driving. Son, pussy is great. I know that. I was young once. I'm still a man. I know how wonderful a willing woman is. But son, you can't go through life fucking everything you can stick your dick into. For one thing, if the woman's man or daddy doesn't kill you or beat you almost to death you can die some other way. You damn sure can't make a living by fucking, either. Son, chasing pussy will ruin your life sure as shit.

"I blame your father's devotion to screwing every female he could get his dick into for his and your momma's death." Al sat up straighter and started to yell at his Gramps when he said that. The old man raised his hand and said sharply, "Now, you just calm down there, son. I know the law said their traffic accident was just that—an accident. I can't prove it but the man who ran into their car with his tractor trailer rig was married to one of your daddy's fuck toys and was the father of another one. The way I saw the accident scene, he almost had to have hit them on purpose. I can't prove that and it don't matter now. That man's dead now, too, and the deputy that investigated the accident divorced his wife, who was another of your daddy's women, then moved away. It's all water under the bridge, son, but I have my suspicions. I suspect the deputy glossed over the facts and let the man that killed your daddy walk. He hated your daddy, too.

"I loved your daddy to death and your momma, too, but them's the facts. Your daddy was just like you. He stuck his dick into every pussy he could and your momma helped him after they got together. I still think he died of an overdose of pussy even though some other man did him in, whether it was an accident or not.

"Son, I been hearing the same angry whispers in town about how you're fucking people's daughters and wives that I heard about your daddy when he was running wild. You need to watch what you do, son, or you're going to end up hurt or dead just like him. You fuck some other man's daughter and some of the men will laugh and say you're all man, but eventually you'll fuck enough of the daughters and wives in town and the men will get tired of it. When they get angry enough they will do something about it and most likely you won't like the results. You're almost to that point as far as I can tell. Even the men without daughters the right age for you to fuck are starting to talk bad about you and what you're doing. They're not laughing about you nailing another girl like they used to. They're wondering what will happen when their young daughters get a little older if you are still around. Some of them with pretty wives are wondering if you are going to set your sights on them. They are beginning to think maybe something should be done about you before you move on to their women. Son, you need to change your ways before it's too late."

Gramps leaned back in his chair for a moment and looked at the dejected and slightly angry young man. He took a deep breath and continued, "Now, we need to talk about something else here, too. You lost your job today. I know it wasn't much, but you lost it. Stock boy at a little maw and paw grocery store eighteen hours a week is small potatoes but it was a stepping stone, son. Folks have three things to hold against you. You fuck their women, you aren't reliable enough to hold a job, and you fight a lot. Oh, I guess there is a fourth thing also—you drink a lot, too. On top of that you have no education or training for anything except unskilled labor or factory work. You need to get your head out of your ass and THINK about your future THEN you need to do something about it. You want to be unemployed all your life? You want to be on welfare? Or do you want to do some kind of work you enjoy and make a good living? Them's your choices, boy. Now what do you want and how will you get it?"

Al sat and glared at his grandfather. He wanted to be angry at him. Hell, he was angry at him, but he knew he was right. He knew a lot of boys near his age that got out of high school and tried to find work without further education. Many of them only worked part time or worked at horrible jobs that paid minimum wage or slightly more. He saw them in threadbare clothes driving rattletrap vehicles. If they had a woman she was skanky and rough. He wanted quality pussy. He wanted a nice truck and home.

Al forced himself to lean back in his chair. He took a deep breath and looked at his grandfather. He had a hangdog expression on his face. He was still pale from his hangover but his three day beard, shaggy hair, and threadbare work clothes didn't help. Just as he started to answer the question his grandmother brought out a pitcher of her sweet homemade lemonade. She poured two ice filled glasses full of the drink, handed one to each man and set the pitcher on the table between them before she returned to the house. The two men drained their glasses without talking. Al refilled the glasses and put the nearly empty pitcher back on the table.

Just as Al started to say something his grandfather took up the conversation once more. He said, "Son, I have a proposition for you. If you will go to the Junior College and get a two year Associates Degree in Farm Management I'll pay all the fees if you keep a grade average of 3.0 or better. Instead of hiring a man to help with things I can't do or don't want to do any more I'll hire you to do what needs doing. I'll pay you the same I would anyone else for the help you give us here on the place above what you've been doing. Oh, you'll still have some chores because you live here and nothing is free. I'll only pay you for the extra work you do over and above what you do now. During school, if you can't do the extra work when we need help I'll hire someone to fill in. When you get your two year degree I'll help you repair your daddy's house down at Ginger Blue and will make you a partner here on the place. You know the farm will be yours one day anyhow so that just makes sense.

That old house at Ginger Blue will take a lot of work but I'll help if you want. It aint been lived in since your daddy died. The last time I was there I saw the kids have broken into it and trashed it something terrible. I think the structure is still sound though so we should be able to fix it up ok.

"You gotta promise me you'll ease off on the pussy, too. I got a call from Reverend Moore after you took Angel home. He was angry, son. I think if he hadn't been a man of the cloth he would have got a gun and come hunting ya. Seems someone told him they saw you take Angel's blouse off and throw it out of the window of your truck onto the church lawn. That weren't too smart, son. I know a young man's got needs, strong needs, but you need to learn to be more discrete when you satisfy them. I know you're going to sow your wild oats. Most of us did, but you need to be discrete. Hell, most women want cock as much as a man wants pussy but they know how to be discrete. You'd be surprised at all the older women around that get a little on the side. Most of their men don't know nothing about it or at least they pretend not to know. You watch, son, and see if you don't see it happening. There's plenty of pussy out there but ya gotta know how to tap it discretely. You watch how the older men and women do the hunt and you do the same. It's safer and you'll probably get more pussy than you need with less hassle from fathers and husbands. It's always a good idea not to rub a man's nose in the fact you're nailing his females.