LOVE, SEX, GUNS, and Ammunition

He paused to imagine how different his life would have been had he married his childhood sweetheart. Yet, even back then, never in step with the other girls, she was always an odd duck. Behaving more like a man than acting like a woman, a real tomboy, she enjoyed doing all the things that men loved to do. She loved to hunt, fish, and, the best shot in the county, she sure could shoot a handgun, rifle, or shotgun.

As tall as a man albeit as slender and shapely as a woman, strong as an ox and never afraid of hard work, she loved chopping wood, splitting logs, and caring for the animals. Definitely, as if they created their character after her, indeed, she was his very own version of Elly May Clampett. With her a real conundrum, he was as sexually attracted to her because she was a beautiful and shapely woman as he was emotionally attracted to her because they shared the same interests. She loved the great outdoors. She loved roping, riding, hiking, hunting, fishing, and shooting as much as he did.

When all the girls wore pretty dresses to school and fixed their hair with ribbons, seemingly proud that her brother's britches, shirts, and shoes fit her, Maybell wore her brother's hand-me-down shirts, overalls and boots. Understanding why she wore them, not wanting to call unwanted sexual attention to herself, her brother's plaid, thick shirts and overalls hid her huge breasts more than they'd be hidden if she wore blouses and dresses. As if ashamed of her good looks and her supersized breasts, she wore oversized clothes that hid her sexy, shapely body and her big tits.

She wore her long, blonde hair tightly braided and hid most of her beautiful hair beneath her wide brimmed hat. The first time ever seeing her in a dress was prom night. Taking his breath away, the first time seeing her wearing makeup and with her long, hair down, she was stunningly beautiful. If he thought that he loved her before, he loved her even more then.

'How cool would it be to see Maybell again? I wonder if she looks the same,' thought Harley. 'With her big breasts a dead giveaway, I wonder if she'd recognize me in the way that I'd never forget her and would always recognize her. I wonder if she wonders about me in the way that I've never stopped wondering about her.'

He couldn't help but imagine kissing her again while feeling her through her clothes. He couldn't help but imagine undressing her. He couldn't help but imagine touching, feeling, fondling, and sucking her big, naked tits again in the way that he did on prom night. He couldn't help but imagine her taking his erect prick in her mouth while staring up at him as he stared down at her. He couldn't help but imagine making love to her, fucking her, and finally having sex with her naked body as he nearly did that fateful night.

* * * * *

Before joining the army, Harley always hunted on the other side of the forest and fished on the other side of the lake. This time, wanting to try something new by exploring, he made his way around to the far side of the lake. Giving him a renewed perspective, it was good to see the lush countryside from the other side and from a different angle. Besides, hoping beyond hope, after extensively exploring the other side of the lake looking for her, he sensed that she lived somewhere around here. Unless she moved away or died, with them always psychically connected, after he couldn't find Maybell, he hoped that she'd somehow find him.

With his camper parked behind him and with him ready to do some fishing, he pulled up a lawn chair, pulled out his fishing rod, baited his hook, cast out his line, and waited to catch some catfish for supper. Then, suddenly tired and deciding to take a nap, enjoying the warm and sunny, fall day, he closed his eyes and relaxed. Just as he started dozing, a noise behind him startled him awake enough for him to turn in his chair. This was bear country and the woods were infested with snakes, mostly two legged ones as well as the ones that slithered on their bellies.

Figuring it was a deer, a lone wolf, or a hungry bear, he had his can of rocks at the ready to scare off any animal or reptile that it was. If his can of rocks failed to work, as a last resort and within reach, his rifle leaned against the tree stump next to him. More of a hunter than he was a fisherman, he hated killing anything that he didn't eat. The last thing he wanted to do was to maim a creature. He'd have to track it down and put it out of its misery.

If the noise was from a man who lived in these woods, his shotgun was on the rack behind the front seat in the truck. Armed and dangerous, there were lots of angry men in these woods and they all had guns. Just as he didn't want to be caught unsuspectingly by surprise, they didn't like strangers. He imagined that there were lots of bodies buried in these woods. He just hoped that Maybell wasn't one of them and his wouldn't be another one of them.

When he turned, instead of seeing a deer, a wolf, a bear, a snake, or an angry, armed mountain man that he thought he'd surely see, he saw the image of a tall, beautiful, and shapely, albeit a buxom woman. With the warm, fall sun to her back illuminating her and shining brightly in his eyes, she looked like a plus sized angel without wings delivered from Heaven expressly just for him. With her long, braided, blonde hair and enormous breasts, she was his version of Elly May Clampett in the flesh, albeit a bit thicker in the hips, in the waist, and, of course, with much bigger tits.

'Maybell,' he thought. 'Maybell? Could she be his beloved Maybell?'

Even though she didn't look the way she looked nearly twenty-years ago, it had to be her. Who else could she be? Surely, he didn't look the way that he looked twenty-years ago either. Nonetheless what she looked like now, when he looked at her, he looked at her as if she was his true love. Still not sure if it was her, enjoying the sexual fantasy of her being Maybell in the flesh nevertheless, he looked at her as if she was his beloved Maybell.

Having just been startled awake from his nap, he imagined that he was seeing things. Maybe he was hallucinating. Perhaps, after her father and brother killed her and buried her in the forest, this was her ghost. Maybe there was no one and nothing there but his imagination. Maybe he was still sleeping and dreaming that she was here.

Yet, even though he wasn't sure, he somehow knew it was her. It had to be her but with her bone thin, shapely, and sexy when he saw her last, hard to be sure that she was his beloved Maybell, she had packed on a lot of weight. Yet, when he looked up at her face, with the sun still in his eyes, unless he was imagining her, as far as he was concerned, she looked as pretty as he remembered she was nearly twenty-years ago.

* * * * *

"You ain't gonna catch any fish like that Mister. Your hook is too close to the shore," she said pointing to his line before pointing out yonder. "You need to cast your line out further and beyond them there rocks. Much deeper there, that's where all the fish are," she said nodding her head. She laughed in the way that she'd laugh at a city slicker and as she was if making fun of him. She laughed in the way that he remembered Maybell laughing. Looking sad whenever they were apart, she was always laughing when they were together. "The fish are smarter than you," she said with another laugh.

When she stood out from the sun and moved in the shade, she looked more familiar. Her voice was reminiscent of someone he once knew long ago. With twenty-years a long time without seeing someone, unable to place her face, he knew for sure that they met before.

'Was this her,' he thought? 'Was this Maybell? Could she be her? Is this how she looks now? He wasn't sure,' he thought straining his eyes while staring at her. 'Surely with her wearing a flannel shirt and overalls covering her big tits, a knapsack on her back, and a wide brimmed hat covering her blonde, pretty hair, it had to be her. Who else would have such big tits? Who else would be unafraid to walk through these God forsaken woods alone? Who else would be unafraid to approach a strange man while alone in the woods?'

Her skin once so fair, her cheeks were once so rosy. Now, her face was tanned and lined by the severe weather of being out in the hot sun, the harsh wind, the freezing cold, and living her life out in the open and in the woods. She had the weathered complexion of a race car driver or a construction worker. Instead of happy and smiling in the way she always did, she looked sad and angry. She looked as if she had lost her best friend or her dog had just died.

In the way that Tony Soprano of the Soprano's imagined beautiful and sexy Isabella, played by Maria Grazia Cucinotta, temporarily living next door in Dr. Cusamano's house, he looked at her as if he had imagined her. Perhaps, she was nothing more than a ghostly image and haunting illusion. Yet, in the way that Tony was taking Lithium and Prozac cocktails mixed with alcohol to have such realistic hallucinations, Harley didn't take any drugs. Not a big drinker, when he drank, unless drinking with a friend, he only drank a beer or two.

Even 'round here, especially 'round here, plenty of men lived in the woods. Nonetheless, it's not normal to see a woman, especially a busty and beautiful woman out alone in the woods. Yet, if she wasn't Maybell, then who else could she be? Unless she had a sister, which she didn't, it had to be her. Hard to tell for sure, he wanted to believe that it was her. Hoping beyond hope that he finally found his beloved Maybell, now that he found her, if this indeed was her, he'd never let her go again.

Ready for bear, she had the butt end of a handgun protruding from her breast pocket. If he wasn't mistaken, it looked like the same Smith & Wesson, snub nose .38 handgun that he bought her for Valentine's Day nearly twenty-years ago. As if ready to skin a bear, she had a large hunting knife in a sheath on her hip, and was carrying a rifle in her right hand. She more looked like Annie Oakley or Calamity Jane than she looked like Elly May Clampett or his beloved Maybell. With her having matured into a fierce, knife carrying and gun totting woman, she certainly wasn't the kind, sweet, loving, shy, and timid teenager that he once knew.

"What are you doing out alone in the woods," he asked if only to hear her voice again?

Instead of looking at her as if she was, indeed, his beloved Maybell, Harley looked at her as if he was imagining her. Needing to awaken himself if he was sleeping and imagining her, he needed to know if he was still sleeping, dreaming, and hallucinating her or if this was really her. With Maybell a good cook and an even better baker, perhaps emotionally eating from the physical, emotional, and/or sexual abuse that she may have suffered from her father and brother explained her weight gain.

"I ain't never been afraid to be alone in these woods, Mister," she said with a hearty laugh. She looked around the woods as if surveying the area. She looked around the woods as if she owned the forest. "I know these woods. I live up yonder, in that there cabin peekin' out over the ridge through that narrow clearing," she said pointing to a small house, nearly hidden by trees, and perched high on a hill in the distance.

Unable to readily and clearly see it, he looked up at the house as if he was looking at a mirage.

"Oh," he said not knowing what else to say.

She surveyed her land with a 180 degree look as if she was proud of owning it.

"This is my land and my lake," she said slowly moving her arm around her land before pocketing her hand. She stuck out her chest even more than it was protruding before as if she was proud of her property before looking down at him with a stern stare. "You're trespassin' Mister. You're on my property."

Harley looked at her surprised that she owned all of this land. From her house and all the way down here and all the way around the lake had to be more than 100 acres. He was even more impressed that she owned the lake too. A beautiful lake it was stocked with fish.

"Sorry," said Harley standing and quickly packing up his things. "I didn't know. I didn't see any signs posted or a fence. I'll leave," he said not wanting to go and not wanting to leave her again.

With her demeaner gruff, her disposition brusque, and with her armed and dangerous, instead of filling him with love, she filled him with fear. No longer living here, he was deemed a stranger now. Then, as if he was her long, lost kin, staring at him in the way that he had been staring at her, she looked at him long and hard.

"You look familiar but it's hard to imagine you without your full beard. Did you always have a beard?" She stared more closely at him. "Do I know you?" She stared at him as if trying to remember and then remembering. "I do know you. I know you," she said after a thoughtful pause and a look of recognition that brightened her face. "You're Harley, Clem's friend, and my old friend," she said with an excited, little smile. "We went to the senior prom together. D'ya remember? Surely, other than our long walks while holding hands and talking, our one and only, real date, you must remember that nightmare," she said with a laugh.

In the way that she had changed, he had changed too. No longer the skinny, pimple, faced kid, he had grown into a man and had a full beard instead of being clean shaven. Taking another, longer look at her, this time, Harley looked closer at her face than he stared her huge breasts. Now he was sure that it was her. It had to be her.

"Maybell?"

She laughed and tucked a thumb in the top strap of her overalls and gave him a big, welcome home smile.

"Tell me the truth, Harley, and be honest, d'ya know anyone else with tits as big as these," she said cupping her left breast in her left hand and raising it as if offering her big tit to him? Then, proving without a doubt that it was her, she smiled before answering his question with her question. "You hungry?"

She asked him the same question and in the same way that she had always asked him if he was hungry. Harley smiled at what she used to say whenever they were out walking while holding hands and talking.

"I could eat," said Harley saying the same thing that he said when he was a 19-year-old teenager.

With her always having a homemade snack in her knapsack, he replied to her in the same way that he replied to her when he was teenager. With her a good cook and even a better baker, with her always having food at the ready, giving him snacks and treats from her knapsack whenever they were out hiking, she always fed him. It was then that he realized that, even though she had put on quite a bit of weight, albeit muscled weight, he still loved her now as much as he loved her before. He loved her as much as he loved her good food, loving spirit, and her kind heart.

"Bless your heart," she said. "Follow me home and I'll fix you somethin' good to eat," she said turning and quickly walking away while Harley loaded his chair, fishing rod, and rifle in the back of his camper.

With her a fast walker, she clearly knew these woods like the back of her hand. Not wanting to straggle, he'd never find his way there and back to his truck if she got too far ahead and he got turned around and lost. With plenty of fallen trees, holes, ditches, ruts, cliffs, animal snares, and bear traps, and with the terrain all looking the same, he couldn't imagine walking these woods alone while lost and in the dark. Yet, more afraid of having a repeat of the last time that he was with her, he asked the question.

* * * * *

"Do you still live with your Daddy and brother?"

She put her hand to the hilt of her knife and turned her head to give him a self-satisfied smile.

"Daddy?" She laughed before turning to him. "A sad coincidence, after I found boxes of your unopened letters beneath the floorboards in his bedroom, Daddy met with a sudden and untimely death when he was drunk and crashed his truck in a tree," she said with a smug smile. She paused as if reconsidering her confession. "Leaking brake fluid all the way down the hill, the police said that he must have cut his brake lines when he ran over a rock before hitting the tree," she said while smiling and showing no other sign of emotion.

He nodded his head while knowing the no good, foul mouth, drunken bastard her father was.

"Sorry for your loss," he said not knowing what else to say.

She laughed out loud and looked at him over her shoulder as if he was kidding.

"Sorry for my loss? What loss? He was no loss. Don't be sorry for my loss. I'm not. If anything, I'm happy to have gotten rid of him," she said as if she deliberately cut his brake lines and killed him. "Good riddance," she said spitting on the ground as if she was spitting the foul taste of him from her mouth.

Afraid to ask his next question, he asked anyway.

"And your brother? How is—"

She continued walking while talking and without turning to look at him.

"My brother? I ain't got no brother. He ain't no kin of mine, no more. I don't know how he is or where he is nor do I care how he is or where he is," she said walking while talking.

Then, she laughed out loud as if remembering her brother's abrupt departure.

"I see," said Harley as if understanding more than he imagined she suspected that he knew.

She stopped at the top of the hill as they neared her house and she turned to face him. From the top of the hill, she could see and survey all of her land. From the top of the hill, he could see the entire lake and his camper. Hard to see her house from the bottom of the hill unless knowing exactly where to look, she must have seen him fishing and trespassing on her land.

"Makin' a good, life and death decision, my brother decided to leave with the carnival," she said pausing as if deciding if she should tell him anymore of the story or not. "I racked and stuck the business end of my shotgun in his mouth when he was snoring while sleeping. After I threatened to blow his head off and bury his dead, headless body in the woods for all the bad and unmentionable things he and my Daddy had done to me, he was motivated to leave," she said.

She didn't have to verbalize all that he imagined her Daddy and brother did to her. With her no virgin then, able to tell from her sexual experience when they were about to have sex nearly two decades ago, he suspected he already knew. Mistakenly thinking that she had given their best friend, Clem, a hand job before she gave him a hand job, he could tell that his cock wasn't the first cock she stroked. Again, mistakenly thinking that she had given Clem a blowjob before she gave him a blowjob, he could tell that his cock wasn't the first cock she sucked. Only, now he knew that it wasn't Clem that she had stroked, sucked, and sexually serviced.

If her father wasn't already dead and her brother wasn't already gone, he'd kill them both for all that he imagined they did to her. As far as he was concerned, she didn't have to talk about any of it unless she wanted to talk about it. From now on, he'd be there to protect her from harm, not that she needed him or anyone to protect her from harm. She seemed to be a formidable force. With her having lived out here on her own and alone, surviving and thriving in this lush, vast wilderness of hills and hollers, she was clearly more than capable of protecting herself.

* * * * *

Harley stepped on her small, front porch and when she opened her front door, making him feel at home, Maybell invited him inside with a wave of her hand, a nod of her head, and a warm smile.

"Have a seat," she said pointing to her dining room chair. "I'll be back with our lunch in a few minutes," she said walking to her small kitchen. "I wasn't expectin' company but I always have plenty of leftovers.'