Samantha Parker's Story

Posted in: Older-Younger

Chapter Twnety Eight

Scott and Tracy had kissed for a while and now Tracy was pulling her McDonalds tee shirt off and unfastening her bra. Scott was beginning to have second thoughts. Was this worth dealing with the guilt he was sure to suffer later? Then Scott looked a Tracy’s tits. Damn they were nice; not as nice as Karen’s had been, but damned nice anyway! He rationalized, Karen was gone, nothing could bring her back, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to find Samantha within the next hour. Tracy stood up and slid her pants down. The vision from all those years ago crossed Scott’s mind. Tracy’s hot little butt was bent over her dad’s knees getting a good hard spanking. Scott felt his cock getting hard. That was it. He got undressed.

Tracy lay back on the bed watching Scott pulling his clothes off. Her pussy was getting very wet, as she anticipated the sight of his legendary dong. At the same time, she was just a little worried. Would she be able to handle something that big? Well it’s too late to worry about that now she thought. Scott turned toward the bed. Tracy was afraid to look. She closed her eyes. She would probably be intimidated by Scott Parker’s monster cock and soon he would be ramming it into her pussy. Then Tracy’s curiosity got the better of her. Besides, she should see what was coming. That way, she could be prepared for it. Tracy opened her eyes and another part of the Scott Parker myth evaporated. His cock was big, but not huge. Tracy had seen bigger ones in her dad’s porno flicks lots of times. She thought Ted’s might even be longer, if not quite as big around. Now Scott was on the bed between her legs and starting to eat her pussy. Tracy thought what the hell, she was in the mood and Scott was doing a good job. She might as well enjoy herself.

When he was pounding his cock into Tracy’s hot pussy and watching her little tits bouncing up on the inward strokes, Scott was thinking how much he’d been missing something like this. In spite of all his troubles, maybe life was still worth living.

About forty-five minutes later, Scott was driving Tracy home. Tracy asked, “What made you come back here?”

“After I lost Karen and the baby, it seemed that there was nothing to live for. I still feel that way sometimes. I went through pure hell for a while. I figured my life was over. Then I realized that I probably deserved what happened to me. I knew it was time to set some things right. I have a small business out west. I hired someone who I could trust to manage it for a while. I sold my house. I made up my mind to come back here to see Samantha. I had to try and make up for the wrongs I’d done her.”

Tracy thought, so much for the “kindred spirits” bullshit. Scott Parker just wanted to fuck me. But hell, that’s OK. He’s good in bed. He sure banged the hell out of me. It was kind of nice. Tracy asked, “Weren’t you afraid to come back here? The cops are probably still on the lookout for you.”

“I knew that was a risk I’d have to take. I established a fake identity out west and I didn’t plan to stay long. I figured I’d be OK for a few days, as long as I kept a low profile. I just had to see Samantha. I thought I might be able to work something out with Mary too. I flew in a couple of days ago. I picked this car up in Canfield and drove down here. Look Tracy, I’m trusting you to keep quiet about this. I need some time to find Samantha. It looks like the cops are doing nothing. She could be in trouble and right now, I’m the only person who cares about her and wants to help her. I need a chance to do that. Understand?”

Tracy said, “Sure, no problem Scott.”

As they approached Tracy’s street, Scott pulled to the curb. “I’ll let you out here. Tracy you’re a sweet sexy girl. It was great for me back there at the motel. I’ll try to keep in touch. If I get things worked out, maybe we can get back together.”

Tracy said, “Yeah, maybe we can.” She got out of the car and walked off down the street.”

A Few Days Later In Hadleyville

Anna was logged onto the National Missing Persons database and she had Samantha’s picture up on her computer screen. To anyone else, the image displayed was that of an extremely attractive young girl. That very same image, viewed through Anna’s eyes, was the devil incarnate. Anna finally decided that the time had come to make good on her vow to make Samantha pay for her misdeeds. Anna’s obsessive hatred of Samantha had grown to such a degree, that now, every bad thing that had happened in her life was directly or indirectly Samantha’s fault.

At one time, Anna thought she would call the Bentlyville police and tell them that Samantha had been in this area and that she was certain Samantha had murdered her mom. Anna soon discarded this idea. She thought it would be very unlikely that the police would be willing to admit they’d made a mistake about Samantha’s mom’s death. She also concluded that, without a specific location, the Bentlyville police would do little more than alert the local authorities to be on the lookout for Samantha. For Anna, this wasn’t good enough.

Now, in the manner of President Bush, Anna determined she was going to “bring Samantha to justice” and the first step was to find Samantha. Anna knew this wouldn’t be easy and she might fail; just like the President had failed to find Saddam’s weapons of mass destruction. But Anna determined that she had to try. Anna knew Samantha could have gone almost anywhere, after she dropped her at the bus station. At least the bus station was a place to start. Just maybe she could find someone who remembered seeing Samantha there that day. Anna printed out the picture of Samantha and placed it in her purse.

Saturday morning Anna drove over to the Rawlings bus station. All the stars and planets must have been aligned in Anna’s favor. By luck, she had observed Allison Chambers and Frank Nichols in their lunchtime tryst. Now, the first person to whom she showed Samantha’s picture; was the porter who had seen Samantha fall onto the concrete curb. “Sure I remember her. I always wondered what happened to that poor girl. I almost called the hospital, but I didn’t know her name.”

Anna asked, “What happened? Was she badly hurt?”

“I was right by that door over there when it happened. I heard someone scream. I looked out and saw this girl hit the deck like a ton of bricks. I came running out and she was laying there knocked out cold. Blood was already pooling up around her head. She looked to me to be in bad shape. We called 911 and they hauled her off. She was still out cold when they took her away.”

“Do you know what hospital they took her too?”

“There’s only one in town young lady. St. John’s over on Broadway.” Then the porter said, “So you know that girl. What’s her name?”

“Oh yes, I know her very well. In fact, I know her better than anyone does. Her name is Samantha.”

“Oh, like the witch on that old TV show. She sure didn’t look like a witch!”

“Well looks can be very deceiving.” Anna handed the porter a twenty-dollar bill and said, “Thanks for your time.”

As he watched Anna walking away, the porter got an uneasy feeling. He was almost certain that she was up to no good. Now he regretted talking to her. Then he glanced down at the twenty-dollar bill. Well, he really needed the money. He sighed and stuffed the bill into his pocket.

The fat old biddy at the hospital information desk was about a hundred years old and didn’t know her ass from a hole in the ground. She was worse than useless. She must have screwed around on the computer for ten minutes. Finally, she said, “No there was no Davis admitted on that date dear.”

Anna thought fuck you! You’re a useless old whore! I know damned well she was admitted. This is the only game in town. Too bad, they can’t hire someone without Alzheimer’s to run the fucking information desk. Anna got her temper in check and said sweetly, “My
friend had an accident. She had a head injury. If she was admitted, where would they take her?”
The old biddy said, “Why upstairs, young lady.”

This was too much for Anna and she exploded, “I know fucking upstairs, you stupid old cow! But fucking where upstairs?”

The old lady looked as if she might be having a heart attack or shitting in her drawers. Anna couldn’t tell which. Suddenly the old biddy seemed to get control and she asked, “Do you see that big bronze placard on the wall right over there dear?” Anna glanced around and nodded. “Well that’s the fucking directory. Haul your skinny ass over there and look at it and leave me the fuck alone!”

Anna said, “Thank you.” and went over to check out the directory. Looked like trauma cases went to the third floor.

When Anna got out of the elevator on the third floor, there was a sleazy-looking cleaning guy mopping the hall. He was short and hunched over. He wasn’t old. Anna guessed he was in his twenties, but God was he ugly! Anna wondered how someone could get that ugly in only twenty years. The cleaning guy stopped mopping and gave her a long look up and down. He smiled. Anna almost cringed; hell and damnation, his teeth, what was left of them, were green. Anna rushed past him and on down the hall. That guy gave her the creeps.

Doug Ferron plopped his mop into the bucket. Damn that was a nice looking piece of ass, even if it was a bit skinny for his taste. The way she’d rushed off down the hall, Doug could tell the bitch had the hots for him. She couldn’t trust herself to hang around him too long. She was probably shy. Doug hadn’t seen that hot little bitch up here before. It wasn’t likely she was visiting someone on the floor. Doug knew all the patients and their routine visitors. He kept very good track of that. He’d just have to mosey on down the hall and find out what she wanted up here, besides him.

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