Unknown - The Watch Dog

Lucy's running feet nearly slid out from under her in her vain effort to stop and turn back, but it was too late. She was only a foot or so from the passenger's side of the tiny MG and what she saw brought both her hands to her mouth in a useless gesture, a futile attempt to stifle the gasp of horror and surprise that burst from her throat. It took less than a second for Lucy's widened blue eyes to take in the lurid tableau of what was going on in that car, less than a heartbeat for her to realize what a fateful mistake she had made in coming to this seedy place alone. Her eye swept like the lens of a camera, etching yet another photographic image into her mind, one that, like the sight of her mother with Jerry Marlowe, would linger in her thoughts like the smell of death clings to all it touches. Only death would have possibly been easier to take than this!

There on the small bucket seat closest to her knelt a naked girl of not more than fifteen, her pert, girlish buttocks stuck up almost to the top of the sports car's door. Her naked ass-cheeks squirmed and wriggled with the intensity of her teenage passion; her face, framed by her hippie-length dark hair that spilled across David's lap, was buried tightly against his unclothed loins. David had pushed his driver's seat back as far as it would go and his pants and undershorts were crumpled around his knees; his head was back against the top of the bucket seat, his fingers knotted in the young girl's long hair. Even as Lucy watched, too paralyzed with shock to move, he gasped out the pleasurable cry of his orgasm, and Lucy saw the teenager's whole lithe naked body shudder as she frantically gulped down the viscous rushes of semen that were bursting into her mouth from David's wildly jerking cock.

David saw her first, glimpsing the movement of a shadow across the hood of his tiny car. He jerked around in surprise and the young brunette pulled her face away from his hair-matted pelvis as the ripple of startled movement frightened her as well; she spun around, incredibly fast in such a confined space, and Lucy's last sight, before she turned on her heels and ran, was the sight of that young girl's face, not much more than a child with budding girlish breasts nakedly exposed in the harsh glow of neon lights from the drive-in, her lips smeared and sticky with the cum-splattered remnants of David's adolescent sperm.

She saw or heard nothing on the endless run back to her car, for her mind refused to pay heed to the gauntlet of knowing laughs and rude noises she had to pass to reach the relative sanctuary of her own car. Tears clouded her vision so acutely that she could barely find the ignition with her nervously trembling hand; the car, mercifully, roared into life at the first turn of the switch, and she literally slammed it into gear, racing out of her parking slot without so much as a glance in either direction. An approaching hot-rod loaded with teenagers screeched to a halt to her left and a choir of angry voices derided her ability to drive, but Lucy Barrett cared not at all. What if they had hit her instead? Tonight, she didn't care if she lived or died … even death was better than living with the sordid memory of this torturous night.

David had pulled up his pants and was getting out of his car when she roared past; he stepped into her path with his arms upraised and she swerved wildly to avoid running him down, though her heart asked her why she bothered, and when at long last she reached the far end of the asphalt lot and was turning onto the highway, she could hear the honking of horns and the raucous cacophony of applause and laughter as the word of what had happened spread like a cancer through the crowded drive-in.

But for Lucy Barrett, the night had not yet begun.

Lucy noticed immediately that Kate's big flashy Buick was gone from the driveway, grateful that at least she would not have to face her mother in her present state of mind. She had ceased crying finally, perhaps from the diverting tensions of driving home, though her chest occasionally heaved uncontrollably and she had to gasp for breath to force down the lump in her throat. It was still too soon to think clearly, Lucy's one coherent thought being the instinctive instinct to get home and safely into her room, away from the ugliness and betrayal of this terrible night.

She entered through the back door for some unknown reason, something she never did, entered without being aware that Matt was a few feet away, and ran to her room without switching on a single light, as if perhaps the darkness could shut out the burning memories that ate away at her brain like parasites. But the void of darkness only made the hurt more painful, and she found herself turning on all the lights in her room, then the stereo, a lilting, upbeat bit of music that Lucy usually found cheering. Tonight, though, even that would not help. There was the sound of a car door slamming out front, faintly carried through the big empty house, and Lucy hurried to undress – she wanted to appear asleep when Kate returned, for there was just no chance of facing her so soon after what she did. Quickly, her crying ended, she pulled off her clothes, including her bra and panties as she disliked sleeping in anything more restrictive than a sheer nightie, and slipped into the nearly-transparent bit of lingerie her father had bought her in naughty Paris. She was about to wriggle beneath the covers when she stiffened with fear at the sound of someone at the front door – Kate, unlike her daughter, always parked on the side nearest the kitchen and entered through the back door, unless she had important friends along. Lucy shrugged it off as a case of nerves still tensed from a night of unexpected surprises; maybe it was her mother bringing that man back home. Yes, that's it, she said to herself in disgust, maybe she didn't get enough before and she talked him into a second round!

Lucy closed her eyes and squirmed deeper between the fresh starched sheets, but she knew right away she would never find sleep tonight without some technological assistance. Irritably, she climbed out of bed and opened the door to her bedroom a crack. There was no sound at all from the front door, and she started to cross the hallway to the bathroom for a sleeping pill when the door chimed noisily, giving her such a start that she cried out in alarm. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest until she realized that it still was not terribly late by Valley Farms schedules; it could be some friend of her mother's over for a bit of late-night gossip and coffee. She grabbed her dressing gown from its hook behind the bedroom door and padded hurriedly on bare feet to greet the unexpected caller. Moments later, she would regret not having taken the simplest of modern-day cautions, a peek through the viewing window; that was something that she always did without thinking, as instinctively as looking both ways before crossing the street. But tonight, Lucy Barrett merely switched on the front lights and turned the handle thoughtlessly. The first glimpse of grease- stained jeans and scuffed leather boots relayed the panic alarm to her already-troubled brain … but it was too late.

She pushed hard against the half-opened door but it swung open effortlessly against her frail efforts. «Hello, Lucy, honey … surprise!» Lucy grabbed impulsively at her robe, clutching the two sides tightly together – it was David and two of the seediest hippie- types she had ever seen!

«You … you have no right to come here, David,» she asserted with mock courage. «After tonight, we're finished … forever! Now get out of my house!»

The obviously-drunk young man only sneered derisively and pushed his way into the entry foyer. «We noticed your ol' lady's car was gone … nobody but the four of us, huh? Just right for a party, eh, baby?» The two long-haired greasers chuckled anticipatorily, one of them brazenly rubbing the bulge that ridged his tight jeans along the inside of his thigh.