Joyce and the Drifter

Joyce's sister Sandy, as cute as Joyce had claimed she was, and Joyce who was always destined to be the ugly duckling of the two, alongside of Mom and Dad. Mom was gone and the sister had departed as well, leaving poor Joyce to fend for herself.

It was probably in this very bed that the two children had been created and where the mother had taken sick. After that - Isaac forced himself to turn his attention to the lean teen who was leaning back into him each time the black man pushed forward, making whimpering sounds as she clutched the bedding and then howling as she came.

In time Isaac would cum too, sending volleys of his seed deep into the girl's womb and then it was over. Joyce climbed off the bed, straightening the cover she had only rumpled, and after kissing Isaac she went to the bathroom.

"Are you any better?" Isaac asked himself as he looked at the picture of Joyce's father, a rough but decent looking man who somewhere along the way had gone off the tracks in a big way, but Isaac had asked that question of himself.

Joyce is just a child, he mused, even though the calendar said she was indeed a woman. She was a naive kid who was so desperate for someone to love her that she threw herself on the first guy she saw, even if the guy happened to be a transient on his way to somewhere else.

"If it wasn't you it would have been someone else," Isaac mumbled to himself as he looked at the picture of the Joyce of eight years ago.

"Who you talking to?" Joyce said, as she appeared behind and hugged him.

"Cute little thing in the picture," Isaac replied as he pointed at the photo.

"Oh. I hardly remember being her," Joyce said. "Mom neither. Every year I remember less."

"Join the club," Isaac said. "Guess I better get dressed and outta here."

"Wish you could stay here. Stay and live with me here," Joyce said.

"You deserve somebody better than a old wreck like me," Isaac said as he put on his things, although when he looked over at Joyce he realized that he could and had done much worse himself.

She looked so awkward, like she was on the verge of becoming a swan instead of the ugly duckling. Put some meat on those bones so her hips and shoulders weren't so severe and buy her some panties that fit, although if she wore undies that were less baggy then even more of her bush would be exposed.

Not a bad thing, Isaac mused as he looked at the wisps of brown fur peeking out the legs of her panties along with the trail of tiny hairs that went up almost to her navel. Quite a furry gal Joyce was, and Isaac decided that he liked that about her too, like just about everything else.

"Daddy says the weather's going to break today, maybe tonight," Joyce said as she walked Isaac down the sloping grade and through the corn. "Gonna storm. What do you do then Isaac?"

"Get wet I guess," he laughed before assuring her, "No, the tent is good and I'll be fine."

"Still going to try and visit you."

"Not if there's a storm honey."

"I'll worry about you though," Joyce said. "Won't you miss me?"

"Of course I will. I'm starting to miss you already and you ain't even gone," Isaac said.

"Better get a little work done or daddy will wonder what in blazes I did while he was gone," Joyce said. "Love you Isaac."

"Love you too child," Isaac said as he watched Joyce lope back to the farmhouse, all arms and legs, before he headed back to the creek.

***

She wasn't lying, not that Isaac ever really doubted Joyce because there was little chance she would make up a story about her father like she had told, but standing outside the slightly open window of the bedroom he had been inside earlier in the day he saw.

Not clearly and that was alright by Isaac, but the times when the lightning from the storm had lit up the bedroom showed him enough. The silhouette of Joyce kneeling on the bed at her father's hip, her head bobbing up and down, and the sound of the old man groaning in between imploring his daughter to "Suck my staff girl. Suck it harder," was more than enough.

When her old man let out a loud moan and Joyce straightened up shortly after, Isaac backed away from the window and walked back behind the barn, oblivious to the pouring rain that pounded his near naked body.

Clad only in boxer shorts, he had snuck up to the house as soon as it got dark, seeking something. Now that he had seen it though, he wasn't sure what he wanted to do more, Wrap his arms around Joyce and hug her or put his hands around her old man's neck and strangle him. Maybe both would be a good idea.

Isaac stood in the dark under shelter of the overhang of the barn's roof, watching the bathroom light go on for a minute and then go off while waiting for the rain to ease up so he could go back to his campsite. That was silly he knew, since he was drenched to the bone as it was, but there was no rush.

Just as he was about to leave he heard a creaking sound from the house. It was the sound of the back door opening and closing quickly, and there she was on the back porch. Clad in her pajamas, Joyce made sure the door was closed securely and then took off her pajamas and her bra, setting them under cover before tiptoeing down the steps.

She was truly beautiful, the awkward stork-like creature, as she ignored the rain and came running through the yard on her way down to the campsite with her flashlight in hand. To him.

"Psst!"

Joyce stopped in mid-stride, head turning as she looked to where the sound came from. Isaac stepped out from where he had been standing and waved, and when Joyce saw him he could see her smile even in the dark and gloom.

"What are you..." Joyce managed to say before Isaac covered her mouth with his, and after the kiss Joyce gasped and finished, "Scared me. What are you doing up here?"

"Figured you might come down," Isaac said. "Thought I would save you the trip."

"Let's go in here," Joyce said as he led Isaac to the door, and she flicked the light on long enough to see where they were before leading the old black man over to a worktable in the corner.

"I saw," Isaac said. "Through the window."

"Oh."

"You got to get out of this place," Isaac said.

"To where?"

"Anywhere. To your sister."

"Don't even know where she is. She can't write me here and we got no phone," Joyce said. "She got word to a friend that works the store in town about a year ago that she was alive and loved me, but that was the last I heard. Sandy had a high school diploma so at least she can get a job. I'm a dummy."

"No you aren't," Isaac said. "I got some money - not a lot..."

"Don't want your money," Joyce said as her hands went down Isaac's slippery skin until they reached his boxers, and after she yanked them down and went to her knees in the dirt she added, "I want you."

A minute later Joyce's lips slid back off the glistening spear as she got up and boosted herself onto the edge of the worktable, spreading her skinny legs wide. Isaac needed no prompting, and after pushing his cock into her pussy they began to mate almost savagely.

By the end Isaac was holding Joyce's ass and bouncing her on his tool as he crouched and thrusted into her, and although his back would hate him in the morning he was too far gone in the moment to care.

When she came Isaac did too, and the teeth that Joyce embedded in his collarbone to stifle her scream only added to his pleasure as he spurted his load into the teen.

"Whew," Isaac wheezed as he let Joyce down and leaned back against the barn wall.

"I love you," Joyce said as she leaned up against him and smothered him with kisses.

"You too child," Isaac said as they held each other in the musty barn and listened to the rain on the roof.

***

Isaac had gotten up with the crack of dawn and after dressing in the clean set of clothes had strolled into town, making the 3 mile hike by weaving through the fields and dirt roads until reaching the town of Poland.

There was only one church in town and there was only one service, so after killing the hour or so before it started by strolling the streets Isaac entered the church and sat at the end of one of the rows of pews in the back.

His appearance got some attention from the couple of people already in there but Isaac was warmly greeted by the pastor and then tried to blend into the background.

"Easy as hiding a raisin in the rice bowl," Isaac chuckled to himself as he ignored the stares of people who not only weren't used to seeing a stranger in those parts, but a black one at that.

The church probably could accommodate about 200 or so but there weren't more than 50 in the place as the time for the sermon neared, and to Isaac's dismay none of them were Joyce.

The organ was beginning to play when a couple of stragglers came in. A tall beanpole of a girl dressed up in her Sunday best, which had probably been her sister's and maybe her mother's before that, and her father.

They deftly made a quiet entrance and right into the same row of pews that Isaac was seated in, although at the other end, and when Joyce glanced down and saw Isaac she almost broke her long neck doing a triple take.

Joyce grabbed a couple of hymn books for her father and herself and after handing one to her old man she opened hers and looked over, biting her lower lip and trying not to laugh as the pastor began to babble.

It was a long hour, even in church time, but it was made more interesting by the glances the two lovers exchanged. Isaac had begun to work his way over towards Joyce so by the end he was only about five feet away.

The congregation rose and after the pastor encouraged everyone to share the Lord's peace with one another Isaac was surprised when an elderly couple turned and offered their hands to him. Isaac smiled and shook them both but then turned to where Joyce's father was just letting go of his daughter.

"Peace be with you," Isaac said to a startled Joyce, who stuck out her hand in response.

Isaac shook it gently, feeling her father's eyes on him every second, and when Isaac extended his hand to her old man he just nodded and turned back to the altar.

"Fuck you too," Isaac said under his breath as the service concluded.

"Pleasure to have you join us brother," the pastor said as he shook hands with Isaac who was standing behind Joyce and her father in the exiting line.

"Thank you for having me. Just passing through and something called to me to stop," Isaac explained. "Wonderful service."

"Well do come back anytime you're passing through," the pastor said before moving on to the next person, and Isaac watched Joyce walking with her father to the beat-up pickup truck, her glancing back a couple of times making Isaac smile.

It was a lot longer walk going back than it had been getting there, or so it seemed, but it gave Isaac a lot of time to reflect. He had felt a little phony about it because he had become a bit of an agnostic over the years, but not compared to at least one of the other people there.

It was then that he realized that he had to get out of there pretty soon because the more he stayed around the more he was falling for Joyce and the more he wanted to do something he hadn't done since he was very young, which was raise his hand in anger towards another person.

"Too old for state prison," Isaac muttered to himself after he made it back to the field that separated Joyce's house from his campsite and looked up at the house. "And she's too young for that prison."

***

"Child you're making this tougher than it already is," Isaac said as he held the trembling and sobbing teen who wasn't taking the news of his impending departure very well at all.

He had already stayed longer than he wanted, but now it was time to go. Summer was over and soon the weather would turn cold, and by then he would be back in the city and living his normal life. Besides, he was getting too attached to the girl and he had seen way too much already.

Bad enough was the image of Joyce kneeling by her father's side in the bed, watching as her head bobbed up and down until her old man came.

Worse was what he had seen the night after the church service, when Isaac had come up when darkness set in, hoping that Joyce was going to sneak out and come down to visit him. Instead, Isaac got to watch Joyce getting brought into the barn by her father, who might have been drinking after Sunday dinner judging by the way he was talking.

Isaac had watched through a crack in the back of the barn wall, and what he watched was a horror story of sorts that said a lot about the man who was the girl's father.

From what the drifter could figure out, her father had caught Joyce sneaking out of the house, and although she seemed to come up with a plausible excuse for doing so in explaining that it was so hot and muggy that she was going down to the creek for a swim because she couldn't sleep there was another reason for her old man's anger.

"I saw you in church today," her father snarled as he tied a kerchief around Joyce's eyes and looked at his handiwork.

Poor Joyce was blindfolded and naked and her hands were bound high above her head by a rope hanging down from a rafter in the barn. It was apparently a rope that had been used before and while Isaac had noticed it when he was in that very barn with Joyce he hadn't thought anything of it.

Joyce was tied so that her feet weren't off the dirt floor, which would have been real torture for her skinny wrists, but she was forced to stand on her toes and that made every muscle and tendon in her body visible as she stretched to the limit to ease the pressure on her hands.

To the old black man who thought he had probably seen about everything in his life, this was something else. Perversely, he admitted, he thought Joyce looked beautiful and erotic hanging there. Looking more androgynous than ever, her long and lean body glistened with sweat in the dim light of the lantern. The tiny swells on her chest completely vanished in this position and along with the thick tufts of hair under her arms it gave her a very boyish look if it were not for the dense bush between her legs that left no doubt as to her gender.

"I saw the way that colored guy looked at you," her old man was saying. "And you went and shook his hand!"

It was then that Isaac, who had already recoiled at the mention of himself, saw the switch in the man's hand as it was raised and then swung at Joyce's back, creating a red streak on the back where the faint scars of past beatings still were visible.

"It was in church Daddy!" Joyce cried out after the blow. "You're supposed to be nice to people when you're there."

"Not to... that thing!" he bellowed as he swung the stick again, and as Joyce's body writhed Isaac was about to go in and stop this madness but held back. "That kind will bed anything. They don't care if you're ugly or not."

"Please. I'm sorry Daddy," Joyce begged as the blows continued, and while the switch whistled when it was waved and certainly stung, it had drawn no blood.

"Never saw that guy around here," her father continued as her fingers grabbed Joyce's little nipples and twisted them. "Could be sneaking around the woods looking for some dumb girl like you running around bare-assed in the creek."

Isaac gave the animal credit for being a bit psychic while weighing the options. He could go in and beat the crap out of the guy, which Isaac didn't think would be a problem, but that would likely mean ending up in jail. Who knows what that would mean up in this neck of the woods for a black guy with no friends up here? Then there was the chance that he could lose control and not stop once he started swinging, and while it had been a while since his old violent temper had surfaced the old black man knew that it was still around.

Then there was Joyce. Whatever happened, she would be stuck up here. Some black guy comes to her rescue and all of a sudden her father's worst fears would come true and the truth about them would come out.

So Isaac stood where he was and just hoped that it would end soon, which it did. Joyce's father walked around from where he was standing behind her and muttered something about being sorry but insisting he loved her and only wanted the best for her.

It was touching in a sick way except that instead of taking Joyce's blindfold off and untying her hands right away, the guy let his pajama bottoms drop to his ankles.

"Good god," Isaac said as he watched Joyce's father start to pull on himself hard and fast while looking at his ravaged and helpless daughter suspended a couple of feet in front of him, and while he did eventually untie his daughter it wasn't until after he had ejaculated.

After the savage had brought his daughter back into the house Isaac was prepared to pack up his belongings and leave right then and there, but he didn't. Instead he stayed and when Joyce appeared late in the morning for a brief visit he asked her about what happened the night before.

"I was hoping you would come visit," Isaac said as he looked at Joyce and tried not to think about what her back must look like under her blouse.

"Yeah. Me too. Something came up," Joyce said awkwardly.

"I know. I was up there, hoping you would sneak out, and I was there when I saw your father take you to the barn," Isaac confessed.

"Oh," Joyce said blankly, and when she saw the look on the old black man's face he nodded. "You saw?"

"Wished I didn't. You okay?"

"Yeah, it don't hardly hurt," Joyce explained. "Probably looked way worse than it was."

"What brought that on? You shaking my hand in church?"

"Partly but Daddy was drunk. We spent a lot of time praying and he was thinking about Mama because it's her birthday this week," Joyce related. "It was worth it though. I was so surprised seeing you in the pew. Made church a lot less boring getting to see you like that."

"I won't ever do that again," Isaac had said, and was about to tell the girl he was leaving then and there but something changed his mind.

Instead Isaac had stayed and they continued there clandestine meetings. They made love passionately and tenderly, and Joyce even brought the old black man up for another bath on market day, but the nights were starting to get cooler and some leaves had even begun to change.

So they hugged and cried together and that night they made love like it was the last time, which Isaac knew it would be. After they climaxed together and he prepared to walk back to the farmhouse with the teen, Isaac gave her a piece of paper with his address and phone number at home on it along with a little roll of bills.

"It's not much but take it in case you need it," Isaac said of the money. "Maybe use it to get the hell out of here if you even find out where your sister went. And my address - if you ever need me for anything you come down and see me. Call me and I'll come get you. Better hide this somewhere outside of the house because your old man wouldn't cotton to finding this."

"Don't know what to say," Joyce asked as her eyes welled up. "I know you have to go but I still don't like it. Don't even remember what it was like not having you to visit with. It was the best summer of my life."

"You deserve more child. A hell of a lot more than what you have here," Isaac said as he waved his arm towards her house off in the distance. "I wish I was a hell of a lot younger because we would have made sweet music together."

"We did," Joyce replied. "You made me feel like a woman for the first time in my life. Not just the sex. The talking and the holding too. You were my friend."

"Never stop being your friend either," Isaac declared. "I'm like a bad penny because you'll never shake me. If I'm not here in person I'm here in spirit, and if you ever need me and don't try and get a hold of me I'll never forgive you. I mean that."