Goddess
Chapter 6: Harry

Copyright© 2016 by Bondi Beach

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 6: Harry - Two young women on a road trip with Dad's blessing, what could go wrong? Dads mostly think they know best for their children, especially their daughters. Their daughters often have a different view. Zion National Park is a magical place, and the journey proves full of surprises and transformations. AAA coverage? Who needs it when you have a goddess with you? IMPORTANT: There's a short cheat sheet in my blog entry for April 1, 2016 to help you understand who the heck all these people are.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Reluctant   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Light Bond   Group Sex   Oral Sex  

HARRY WAS NOT A RAPIST. Not exactly. I want to make that clear from the get-go, no matter what happened later.

I first met him early one morning the summer after high school graduation. I was visiting Persephone and her mom at their farm somewhere north of Modesto.

Lest anyone think otherwise, it was a platonic visit with Persephone, mostly, made even more so because Mrs. D had stashed me in the single men's bunkhouse with a bunch of migrant fruit pickers from Mexico. These workers, and those with families who were assigned the tiny cabins next to the bunkhouse, came every year to help Mrs. D. She'd known some of them since they'd first come with their own parents. Others appeared or disappeared every year depending on their personal fortunes. A lucky few found themselves able to stay in Mexico on their own farms once they'd saved enough over the years or, as happened more often, they were too old or too injured to work.

I'd been out wandering around at dawn that summer morning. I was half hoping Persephone might be up early, too. When I saw him, I stopped dead.

"Who the hell are you?"

The character, covered in mud, stood up in the middle of the irrigation ditch where he'd been splashing at the outflow from an artesian well. I'd never seen this guy before, although I was to learn later Persephone and her mother knew him quite well. Despite the mud I could tell he was nude. The mud did not hide his grin. He stuck out his hand.

"Harry."

"Sam."

I looked him up and down, noting a respectably sized cock at ease under an impressive flourish of pubic hair.

"What the hell are you doing, Harry?"

He turned to watch the flowing water.

"Bathing, of course."

I pointed out the obvious.

"You're covered in mud, dude."

He laughed.

"You bet. Feels good. You should try it."

With that he ran his hands down his flanks and outside his legs, then back up inside. I looked away when he began to stroke his cock. Maybe he was hoping for an offer. Not my thing, even as I remembered some experimentation in the past.

Harry looked mostly harmless to me but something in his eyes, something I couldn't quite make out, suggested there was more going on there than an amiable idiot who liked to take mud baths in an irrigation ditch and beat off in front of strangers.

He wasn't the only one to use the ditches, for sure, but on Mrs. D's farm there was really no excuse. Her farmworker quarters had running water and toilets and showers for everyone and hygiene was pretty good, especially considering the long hours everyone worked and the lack of washing machines.

I was moving away when he called out.

"Tell Persephone 'Hi' for me, will you?"

I turned back to face him.

"How do you know Persephone, Harry?"

His eyes narrowed.

"I know her, OK?"

It wasn't really OK, but I didn't see how I could push it much further. Nevertheless I had to ask.

"Harry, is there something you want to tell me?"

His smile disappeared.

"Just tell her, buddy, can you do that?"

"Where do you live, Harry?"

He stuck out his arm.

"That way."

Could have been anywhere.


"Mrs. D, what's the deal with this Harry person?"

It was a little later that morning, the air still cool even if it was going to be another Valley summer scorcher. We were having breakfast on the veranda under the grapevine. Persephone's mother stopped buttering her croissant and put the knife down. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Persephone put down her coffee cup.

"Where did you meet Harry, Sam?"

"In the west field this morning. I was out walking and found him covered in mud in the irrigation ditch near the well. He said he was bathing." I decided to keep quiet about Harry's attention to his cock.

Mrs. D sighed.

"Poor Harry. He's always pulling that, done it ever since he was a kid. You remember, Persephone, right?"

Persephone pulled a face that said she remembered, and it wasn't a particularly happy memory.

"Yeah, Mom. I remember. The creep."

Her mother extended her hand to hold Persephone's fingers lightly.

"Persephone, don't be cruel. He can't help it."

I looked from one to the other.

"What's this all about?"

Another sigh from Mrs. D.

"It's a long story."

I poured myself another cup of coffee and smiled in what I hoped was an encouraging fashion.

"Harry is the adopted son of our neighbor, Sanchez," Mrs. D said. "He's about Persephone's age, although no one knows for sure because he's a foundling. He was left in a blanket in front of St. Joseph the Worker downtown. Sanchez stepped in when it was apparent the baby was heading for County Social Services where the outcome was pretty uncertain."

She took another sip of coffee and made a face.

"Persephone, ask Maria to make a fresh pot, will you?"

"Sure, Mom."

As soon as Persephone stepped inside, Mrs. D leaned closer to me.

"Go easy on her, OK, Sam? It's a complicated story."

Just then Persephone returned from inside.

"Go easy on what, Mom?"

Persephone looked from her mother to me.

"Sam?"

Mrs. D reached out and pulled Persephone to her and hugged her.

"I was telling Sam it's a complicated story about Harry, that's all."

Persephone made another face.

"Yeah. Complicated. I'd call it something else, like creepy."

With that Persephone sat back down. In a few minutes Maria appeared with the coffee and a new batch of warm croissants. I knew she hadn't whipped them up in the kitchen, although I'd already learned there was very little Mrs. D couldn't do. Fermin, their driver, had gone into town first thing that morning to pick up a couple of dozen at the French bakery.

"Here you are, Mrs. D."

"Thanks, Maria."

Persephone's mom took a croissant, inspected it, and took a bite and chewed, slowly and thoughtfully, a little smile around her eyes.

"I love croissants."

I looked at Persephone, who was watching her mother and smiling.

"OK, Mom, no need to have an orgasm over your breakfast."

I sputtered and spit coffee.

Mrs. D put down the croissant and made a swatting gesture at her daughter.

"Enough, Persephone."

As her mother turned back to me, Persephone started in on her own croissant.

"Anyway, Harry grew up as one of the Sanchez kids. They treated him like one of their own, and they're a pretty big family, all bright kids and all pretty straight, I mean, no more silliness than with any teenagers."

Here she looked affectionately at Persephone.

"Like my daughter."

Persephone stuck her tongue out at her mother.

"Mom, that's enough. Tell Sam the rest of it."

"Sam," Mrs. D continued, "you've got to understand that most people don't think badly of Harry. The accident wasn't his fault. He was doing what kids do, even if it was pretty stupid, trying to ride a skateboard while hanging on to another kid's bicycle."

She took another bite of croissant and chewed. I refilled her cup and Persephone's and my own while she ate.

"He hit his head. Sanchez and his wife got him to the emergency room within an hour. The hospital kept him overnight, they said he had a minor concussion, and they released him the next day with instructions to take it easy for a week or so.

"Maybe a month or so later, people started to notice funny things about Harry. Like, suddenly coming out with the weirdest ideas. Sometimes not listening to what others were saying. His grades dropped, his teachers said he couldn't pay attention to lessons.

 
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