Lunches

The next morning, he pulled up in front of her house and almost laughed as Bailey came out of the house.

She was dressed in starched white blouse, plaid pleated skirt, white knee socks, and white canvas sneakers shoes.

Her long red hair was done into two pony tails on the sides of her head. She was the very definition of 'School Girl.'

"Need you to get me a couple of them St. Joseph patches," she said as she got onto the bus.

"Cute," he said and drove to their location.

She got many compliments on her outfit, and a few requests for a date. She looked pointedly at Carter every time this happened, then politely told the men, and one woman that she was seeing someone.

Then, after the lunch crowd had died down, they locked everything down. While seated on the floor next to Carter, Bailey pulled a pair of jeans out of her purse and wiggled into them.

"Don't want to give Buzzy any ideas," she giggled and Carter smiled.

But when he pulled up to her house, Bailey reminded him that he had promised he'd show her how to make the slaw.

"Oh yeah," Carter agreed and drove on to his house.

"That Alan called here again," her mother said when Bailey called to let her know where she was.

"Fine, I'll talk to him," Bailey sighed.

"About fucking time you..." Alan snarled into his phone.

"Listen, shit head; I got a new boyfriend and he's twice the man you are and he'll kick your fucking ass you don't leave me alone," Bailey snarled into her phone.

"Aw, bull fucking shit," Alan laughed. "What's his name, huh?"

"His name is Nun as in nun your business," Bailey said. "Now, don't be calling no more, loser."

"Got a new boyfriend?" Carter asked when Bailey disconnected the call and again blocked Alan's phone number.

"Maybe," she said and rested her hand on his arm.

"I know you're not talking about me," he laughed.

He immediately regretted laughing; she looked genuinely hurt, eyes filling with tears. He rested his large hand on her small one.

"Bailey, Honey, I'm what? Twice your age, huh?" he said in what he hoped was a gentle tone of voice.

"So?" she asked, a slight catch in her voice.

"So? I'm thirty seven here; you're only eighteen, Bailey," he said.

"And? What's that got to do with anything?" she asked.

"Got a lot to do with it," he said.

He showed Bailey how to shred the cabbage, how to make his vinegar based dressing, then showed her how to make the beef stew. She was a good worker, and did pay attention to what he instructed, but she was largely silent.

"And that's it," he said when it was almost seven o'clock.

She refused his offer of dinner, and sullenly refused his offer for a ride home.

"God damn, kids, huh?" Carter muttered to himself as he locked his front door behind the girl.

But even as he washed that day's sweat away, he couldn't help but think of her impressive breasts as they had jostled and jiggled in that impossibly tight tee shirt she'd worn on Sunday.

Or her delectable little rear end in those shorts. He gripped his swollen cock.

"Uh!" he grunted, blasting a load of his semen against the shower wall.

Bailey was still in a fairly sullen mood when he picked her up for their work day the next morning.

He did notice, however, that she'd had one more button unbuttoned on her school blouse.

Together, they worked quickly, efficiently, if not a little quietly.

"You really should be ashamed of yourself," a mature woman hissed at Bailey as the girl scooped out apple sauce. "Button that blouse up!"

Bailey looked at the woman, brown eyes moist. The woman immediately regretted her terse remarks, but felt that she had the moral high ground so refused to apologize.

"Ma'am?" Bailey said as she rang up the woman's lunch. "You got beauty, you're probably real smart too."

Bailey waved her hand, indicating the customers inside the large vehicle, a few of which were paying attention to their conversation.

"You could probably have your pick of any one of these guys," Bailey went on. "I just want one man."

Bailey then looked pointedly at Carter and back at the woman.

"Me? I'm not real pretty, and I know I ain't all that smart; barely graduated high school by the skin of my teeth."

She then pointed to her impressive chest, bulging out of the snug blouse.

"These are all I got going for me. But you have a nice day, hear?" Bailey said and handed the woman her change.

The woman put her tray down and left the bus.

"Honey, I think you're real pretty," an older man said gently as he paid for his goulash.

"Thank you; have a nice day," Bailey whispered.

She did button the blouse up when they pulled up in front of St. Joseph's Diner. As was his wont, Buzzy was the first one on the bus and happily greeted Bailey, chattering gibberish. She chattered with him, about nothing, which was fine with Buzzy.

Then she was silent again as they drove back to Carter's home.

"That's not all you got going for you," Carter said quietly as she prepared the slicer to shred the cabbage.

"What?" Bailey asked quietly.

"You got a lot going for you; not just your boobs," Carter said.

"Like what, Carter?" she demanded.

"You're beautiful," Carter started and she snorted derisively.

"They called me 'Spot' in school because of all my freckles," she spat.

"I can't help what a bunch of dumb ass shits called you; you're beautiful," Carter insisted.

"Uh huh, whatever," Bailey said, not believing him.

"And you are smart; I showed you that thing one time and you're already an expert at it," Carter said.

"So? God, Carter, it's not rocket science," Bailey said.

"And you're sweet, and sensitive; maybe a little too sensitive," Carter said, putting his large hands on her slim hips.

"Quit; I'm busy," she complained, but wiggled her small backside a little.

"And a hard worker, and..." Carter said and she squealed when he picked her up by her hips.

"Put me down!" she giggled.

"Listen," he said seriously, hugging her from behind, holding her at least two feet off the ground.

"What?" she asked, melting into his embrace.

"Bailey, I'm the worst choice for a boyfriend, ever," he said.

"No, you're not," Bailey argued.

She counted off the compliments on his muscular forearm with her small fingers.

"You're beautiful, and you're smart, and you're sweet and you're sensitive, and you're a hard worker and..." she said.

"Oh shut up," he laughed and put her down.

She immediately whirled around and wrapped her thin arms around him, pushing her face into his chest, her breasts into his belly.

"And you give back," she said.

"Look, I'm afraid, I mean, okay, we give this a shot and it doesn't work out, then what?" Carter admitted. "Lose you as an employee and friend?"

"Then it doesn't work out; so what?" Bailey asked, shrugging.

She pulled her head back and looked up at him.

"So, we just going to say 'oh, it might not work out, so we're not even going to try?' That sucks," she said.

He digested her words, then smiled sardonically. He stroked her cheek softly and she kissed his hand.

"See? You are smart," he said and she beamed.

He bent to kiss her and she craned up to meet him halfway.

They kissed for a few moments; it was Bailey that pushed him away.

"We got to get this done," she reminded him.

As he was browning the ground chuck and brisket mix for his sloppy joses, Carter realized, Bailey had craned up to meet him halfway.

Emily, the girl he'd almost married before they'd both gotten hooked on drugs had never craned up to meet him. Emily had never reached out to meet Carter halfway on anything.

He'd hurt his back on a construction job and had gotten hooked on pain killers, muscle relaxers. Emily took to helping herself to a few of his pills. From there, it was a steady decline into the harder stuff.

But even before his injury, Emily would not crane up to meet his lips. She actually giggled when he complained about this.

Then when they become addicted, her selfishness grew exponentially.

It had been fine with Emily if Carter sold his prized Les Paul Standard and Mesa-boogie amp. She'd happily helped him shoot up that heroin.

But the few times they'd been completely broke, unable to find anything to salvage and sell for a few bucks, the few times Emily had sold the pussy? That had been her heroin. It had been her pussy, it was her heroin. Carter had actually threatened to kill her and Emily wisely saw that this was a very real threat.

But she never forgot; it had been her pussy and her heroin.

Carter wondered what had happened to Emily. They'd woken up, or come to, behind a liquor store. They again had no money and both agreed that Emily would have to turn one or two tricks for some money.

She'd gotten into a black Mercedes-Benz, the car had turned the corner, and Carter never saw her again.

The copper from the air conditioning unit from the liquor store, and the H&R Block next door netted him some money. Then he'd hit a mother lode; a new building was going up a few blocks away. He stripped that building of all the wire and managed to scrape together enough money for a fix.

He tried, he really tried to save a corner of that bag for Emily, but she never did show up.

Three months later, Father Greg found him and saved Carter's life.

But Carter still did not know what had become of Emily.

"Hey, give me a kiss," Carter demanded.

Bailey turned from her task of separating the egg whites, craned up, even going up on her tiptoes, and kissed him. Then she returned to her task.

"Hey, give me another kiss," he demanded and again she did.

"Love you," he said and drizzled olive oil onto a baking sheet to roast some tomatoes.

"You know I take those words very seriously," Bailey warned as she measured out the olive oil for the mayonnaise.

"Oh?" Carter asked, sliding the cookie sheet into the hot oven.

"So if you're going to say that, please mean it," Bailey said and turned the mixer on.

They ate dinner together, then made out for a few minutes, until Bailey reluctantly pulled away.

Friday, after dropping the bus off at his house, Carter and Bailey got into his Mustang and drove to the Oakleaf Complex, the local movie theater

"So what you want to see?" Carter asked her as they looked at the marquee.

"Oh, that Tom Hanks movie's supposed to be so good," Bailey suggested.

They saw Alan Hackett, Bailey's former boyfriend, with Cheyenne; a former classmate. Alan smirked at them, then seemed to anger that Bailey was not only unimpressed, she was unconcerned.

"Hey, give me a kiss," she demanded and Carter bent and they kissed softly for a moment.

"Quit!" Cheyenne complained when Alan attempted to one-up Bailey and Carter's display of affection.

In the movie, Bailey snuggled against Carter, resting her head on his chest. Throughout the movie, during slow points, they'd kiss for a moment.

And she kept her hand on his leg, very close to his crotch.

"Hey, Spot!" Alan called out as they were leaving the movie. "What? Out with your dad?"

"No, got tired of little boys with tiny dicks; decided to get me a real man," Bailey said easily and smiled sweetly as Cheyenne, and a few others laughed at Alan.

Once in his Mustang, Bailey turned to Carter, gave him a lingering kiss and looked into his eyes.

"What you want to do?" she whispered.

"Honestly?" he asked and Bailey nodded, a smile beginning to form on her lips.

"I want to taste you," he admitted.

He drove back to his house, led her to his bedroom and kissed her softly.

Bailey was less than impressed; Carter did not make his bed. And she was sure it had been a while since he'd last changed the sheets.

Alan's cock, fully erect, had been around four inches, and, just like Alan, had been fairly slender. Carter's cock was six inches, and thick. His balls were heavy and large and Bailey was sure they held plenty of sperm.

When she took off her clothes, in between kisses, Carter's excitement grew.

When, at last, her bra fluttered to the floor, Carter's erection twitched.

Her breasts were freckled, and sagged under their own weight. On her slender body, they looked like two heavy melons and each was capped with a large red areole, larger than a silver dollar. Her nipples were fat and crinkled in excitement.

Her pussy was sparsely covered by carrot orange hair, and he could see her inner lips peeking out, plump and slick with excitement.

Now that they were fully nude, he did ease her onto the bed. He started with soft kisses to her smiling lips, then kissed her neck. Bailey giggled lightly; she was ticklish.

Her breasts, Carter stroked, licked, and nuzzled all around the large globes, finally reaching her tightly crinkled nipples.

"Ah!" Bailey shuddered in mild orgasm from his attention to her breasts.

In the past, her boyfriends had merely grabbed and squeezed, slobbered all over her breasts.

Carter made slow, gentle love to her breasts.

"Difference between men and boys," she told herself.

Then Carter nibbled his way down Bailey's lightly freckled belly, edging closer and closer toward her sparsely covered crotch.

"Oh!" Bailey gave a shuddering sigh when Carter did reach her drooling pussy.

"Aieegh!" she screamed when his tongue grazed her clitoris and she sprayed his face with her orgasm.

"Aieegh!" she screamed again when he sucked on the hypersensitive organ.

And then his weight was on top of her, pushing her into the mattress, and his fat cock was sliding into her pussy.

"Fuck me!" she screamed at the top of her lungs and shook in violent orgasm.

She wrapped her slender legs around his narrow waist, pulling him deeper into her, and held onto him tightly.

"Love you," she whimpered as she could feel another orgasm welling up in her guts.

He wanted to say the words, but instead bent and softly kissed her mouth.

He tried to think of the Houston Texans' starting line-up, tried to think of their wins and losses for the previous season, tried to think of anything, other than the fact that he was buried, balls deep in a sexy red head.

"Aieegh!" she cried out again when Carter lost the fight and pumped stream after stream of his sperm deep into her pussy.

In post-coital tenderness, they cuddled and kissed softly.

"What you doing tomorrow?" Bailey asked after she'd caught her breath again.

He named a baseball game and she pursed her lips.

"Fine, you watch that," she said. "Me? I'm cleaning this place."

"What? It's clean enough," he protested.

"Carter, Sweetheart, it's not," she corrected him gently. "There are things growing on these sheets."

She kissed him lovingly, then rolled away.

"Come on, take me home," she said as she found her panties.

The following morning, he barely had finished his Frosted Flakes cereal when there was a knocking at his door.

He opened it to see Bailey, in too tight tee shirt, hard nipples and large areolae visible, and shorts that left much of her freckled buttocks exposed.

"Now, where's your bleach?" she demanded after kissing him, and playfully rubbing his stubble cheek.

He had fully intended to drink coffee and read his newspaper leisurely. But he couldn't very well relax and take it easy when there was a sexy young maniac fiendishly cleaning his house.

"I'm shocked, really," Bailey stated as she scrubbed his tub. "Your kitchen is spotless; I just thought the rest of the house would be too."

"Health Inspector checks the kitchen almost monthly," Carter sheepishly admitted.

Then he ran his hand over her buttocks as she bent over the tub.

"Let me get you a pair of shorts, huh?" he begged. "Seeing your butt sticking out like that..."

"Oh, sorry," she smiled mischievously.

She stood, unsnapped the shorts and let them drop to the bathroom floor.

"There. Better?" she asked as she bent to scrub again.

"Oh, much better," he groaned and knelt down behind her.

She dropped the scrub brush into the tub as she felt his hot breath on her sweaty anus.

"Oh, Carter, that's so gross!" she whined, but did not push him away as he tongued her anus.

Then she grunted as he slid his erection into her wet pussy.

"Argh!" she cried out when he insinuated a finger into her anus.

The finger went in as his cock pulled out. The finger pulled out when his cock shoved in.

By the time he had two fingers pumping her anus, she'd had three orgasms and just lay limply across the tub.

Then he pulled cock and fingers from her, pulled her away from the tub, and stuffed his thick meat into her gasping mouth.

Bailey sucked on Carter's cock as if she were dying and his cock was her lifeline.

She swallowed his sperm hungrily and continued sucking him until he softly pushed her mouth away.

"God, I love you," she gasped, laying on his filthy bathroom floor.

"I love you too," he wheezed, leaning against his now clean bathtub.

"Uh huh; now, get out, huh?" she said, getting to her hands and knees.

"Thought you had some stupid baseball game," she mock-complained when he again knelt behind her.

"That's at one; it's not even eleven yet," he said.

"Them sheets off that bed yet?" she asked, struggling to get out of his grip so she could rinse the tub.

"No; blanket's still in the washing machine," he said.

"Carter, how long that thing take?" Bailey asked.

He gave her cute butt a gentle slap and she wiggled her buttocks playfully.

He had to agree, the bathroom did look much better, and did smell much better.

His bedroom also looked much better, and smelled much better.

Then she pulled out his vacuum cleaner.

"Where are the, please tell me you have bags for this," she asked as she squeezed the bag.

"Uh..." Carter tried to think.

He'd bought the vacuum cleaner at a St. Joseph's fundraiser. It did work, he'd taken it apart and cleaned it and put it back together.

"And please get me some more bleach, and some Windex; when is the last time anyone did these mirrors?" Bailey asked as Carter grabbed his wallet and keys.

"And please put some clothes on," Carter asked.

She'd removed the too tight tee shirt somewhere between bathroom and bedroom and master bathroom.

"No," she giggled.

At the Wal-Mart, Carter located the bags, located the other items she'd requested, then decided to buy some nicer bedsheets for his bed, and a blanket that did not look like the next wash would be its last wash.

And he bought a large bag of M&Ms; she'd confessed that those were her favorites.

"Wow; that is red, huh?" she smiled when he showed her his new blanket.

"Yeah," he smiled, pulling her hair gently. "Red's my new favorite color."

He never did get to see the baseball game. But by early afternoon, his whole house sparkled.

And the new sheets and the new blanket were perfect for snuggling under, and making love on top of, and napping.

One week after they'd become lovers, Bailey got a text message from Carter.

His back had flared up and he was in too much pain to move.

Bailey ran/walked the eight blocks from her home to his and let herself in with the key he kept secreted under the cast iron flower pot in front of the house.

"Bailey, I told you, I can't..." he groaned.

His back was throbbing; just breathing hurt. The ice pack he was laying on wasn't even helping.

"I know, but Sweetheart, the people of St. Joe's need that food," Bailey said. "Where are the keys for the bus?"

"Bailey, You are not driving that bus," Carter groaned.

"Well, no kidding," she said. "It's a standard and I can't drive a stick."

"Then how..." he asked, gasping as pain radiated from the small of his back outward.

"I texted Father Greg; he drives the bus for St. Joe's," Bailey smiled, already skipping out of the room.

They were only a few minutes late opening for their lunch crowd. Nearly everyone greeted Bailey by name, and nearly all asked where 'Joe' was.