Chapter 10

Connie was indignant. "You got a soda with two scoops! And what did you do with Sep back there for half an hour? Screw him?" It was intended as an improbable jest and Connie was astounded when Myra nodded. "You did? With a grown man?"

Myra finished her soda with one gurgling suck on the straw. "Uncle Ben's a grown man."

Connie was confused. "But he's family! You can't screw grown men."

Myra shrugged. "I did." She thought that over. "And I liked it. Better'n with boys, anyhow. They're more careful. And they know more. About fucking."

Thus started another phase of Myra's career, screwing grown men, for Sep knew other men who would pay well for the privilege of throwing a dong into a young, nubile girl with a slim, exciting figure.

And Myra's "Escape Hatch" hoard grew. But this phase didn't last long. Within two weeks the boys from the North were down at Sep's, asking about new recruits, good potential.

Curly, the bald-headed one, read off the names. "Don't see this Myra's name on your list. We hear around that she's good. Maybe the best." He stabbed Sep with dark, penetrating eyes. "Wasn't nothing personal in leaving her off?"

Sep swallowed uneasily. "No, Curly. She's just thirteen. Kinda young for your crowd."

Curly shrugged. "We like 'em young. They train easier."

Sardi, the one who constantly cleaned his nails with a knife, spoke without looking up. "Wouldn't be you was doin' a little pimping on the side? We wouldn't like that. Recruitin's one thing, competition is another."

Sep sweated. "Nothing like that, Sardi. Honest. It's just she is so young, I figured you wouldn't . . . "

"Let us do the figgerin', Sep. We'll get along better." Curly stood up. "Skibo will do the scoutin', like usual. He looks more their age and can talk to 'em. What about, I ain't got a friggin' idea." He turned to a younger man, almost handsome. "What do kids talk about?"

Skibo frowned. "Things. Jess things."

Curly nodded. "The usual. Skibo takes a room at the motel and hangs around here. He makes the contacts, lays those he thinks are possibles, and puts the proposition to 'em." Curly glanced once more at the list. "Now there ain't gonna be squawks about none of these?"

Sep shook his head. "Kids like them is always running away. Mostly they come back with a baby and they ain't so welcome. The ones I give you, the families'll mostly be happy to be shed of 'em. Little troublemakers in that special way and likely any time to turn up pregnant."

"And about this Myra? What about her folks?"

Now that Sep had purged himself, he was happy to cooperate. He sniggered. "She ain't got a family, except an uncle that did her out'n her maw's insurance money. He'll be happy she don't come back. He's a louse. A ass."

"Sometimes them kind scream the loudest."

"Not him. He's been screwing her himself. He ain't gonna ask for trouble. He'll figger maybe she skipped 'cause he got her pregnant." Sep nodded at his own wisdom. "Him or that free-wheeling six-cylindered lout of a son."

"Okay. And jess so you didn't knock her up. Kids with a bellyful of baby we don't need." Because Sep had introduced her to a number of older men, Myra was not in the least surprised when he suggested that he had a friend he wanted her to meet, one who would pay as much as five dollars for her favors. The five dollar figure seemed, in her economy, slightly excessive but if it would add to the "Escape Hatch" hoard now nearly thirty dollars, an improbable sum she was interested.

Skibo was presented and looked her over with a professional air. She was just a kid, all right, but pretty. Very pretty. And she had a nice little figure. Nice, firm titties. He even found himself looking forward to his special task of screwing her. It would be more than a test of her ability. It would be a real pleasure.

Myra saw Skibo as a young man, a little older, maybe, than the usual soda shop crowd but not as old as some of the more recent of her customers to whom Sep had introduced her. These had ranged up to an old man of seventy who only wanted to look and to feel, but still paid his two dollars. The looking and feeling had made Myra uncomfortable without bringing any excitement or satisfaction, but two dollars for the "Escape Hatch" hoard had made it endurable. She had gone out later with Joe, for a regular two-bit fuck that had eased the tensions created by the look-feel codger.

Now she listened to Skibo's smoothly professional approach, nodding thoughtfully. "Have you got five dollars?" This sum was almost out of Myra's economic range, a not very likely amount for anyone she knew to possess. Startled by such directness, Skibo produced a wad of bills and, with still greater surprise, found himself handing her a five dollar bill. She took it gravely and handed it to Sep. "For the account."

Skibo scowled at Sep, who folded the bill nervously, under such scrutiny. "I keep her money for her. Those cousins of hers would steal her blind. Bunch of mean bastards. Her uncle especial." Sep realized he was talking too much, explaining too much, and shut up, with a mumbled, "I take care of things for her."

"I bet you do. Skibo looked down at Myra. She was a pretty little thing. With nice firm titties, such as he liked. He nodded suddenly, jerking his head sideways. "I got a car outside."

That, in Myra's experience, usually meant a pick-up truck or a battered jalopy that wheezed and sputtered, with seats you had to squirm around in to avoid broken springs. This was a shiny convertible, nearly new, with real leather seats, shiny and smooth. The leather was hot against her bare bottom along with Connie she had long since given up the refinement of panties when she went to the soda shop. They were only an extra complication. So now she tucked her dress under her, still feeling the heat on her little rump and another heat that was already starting to build in her cunt.

Skibo dropped a hand in her lap, moving it slowly, deliberately, so that it hiked up the front of her dress. His hand slid along the inner side of her thigh and on up to her cunt, warming her body with its now familiar treachery. When his hand encountered no panties, Skibo took his eyes off the road to glance down. A real pretty little pussy, clearly visible, with no hair. And not shaved, either. The genuine article, young and fresh! Skibo licked thin lips and speed up, hurrying toward the motel.

Skibo shot the car under the shed and leaped out, even opening the door for Myra, feeling an obscure and unaccountable urge toward gallantry. He ushered her in the side door, passing his hand up her skirt to touch that cute, pert little fanny. Yep, this kid was a real doll. Curly would be pleased. As a business deal only, of course. Curly preferred young boys. Privately Skibo considered this a bit odd in a man whose job was pimping, but he was philosophical about it. Curly was boss and entitled to his peculiarities, so long as he didn't make any demands of Skibo. That was why Sardi was along, though Sardi was double-gaited and could be counted on to entertain some of the girls on the way back.

Myra regarded the motel room approvingly. It was a step up from Sep's back room and a vast improvement over Uncle Ben's place. It even smelled clean and faintly antiseptic. The bed was large and looked firm, and the sheets and pillow cases were fresh. With her recent experiences with Sep's older men friends she had become almost a connoisseur of bedrooms.

She turned around slowly and smiled at Skibo. "You want me nekkid?"

Skibo was a trifle disconcerted by such directness. Most of his previous customers had played it coy, but this kid . . . "Yeah! Yeah. Sure. I wanta see the merchandise. Natch."

Myra skinned out of her dress and stood before him, her soft flesh glowing in the shaded light of the motel room. Even in the awkward business of stripping off her dress, she was graceful; a nymph, a child-women with innocent charm, smiling nervously, shyly up at him, seeming to ask for approval of her slim, pink body.

It wasn't coquetry. Even Skibo, who was by profession a screwer of young girls, seemed to recognize this. It was just Myra's way of seeking assurance that her body was desirable, was worth the price she was asking which would go toward the "Escape Hatch" board. If her body ever failed her Myra shuddered there would be no escape, ever, from the intolerable conditions at Uncle Ben's. And this was her highest paying customer to date a whole five dollars.

Skibo paused in slipping out of his shirt and beckoned her to him. She came, a trifle nervously, still with that shy, little-girl smile. He took her in his arms, running his hands over her slim perfection, breathing heavily.

Myra shivered at the touch of his hands and then, feeling the now familiar glow within, pushed her little pelvis against the bulge of his pants, undulating slowly, her eyes closing dreamily, seeing not Skibo but that private fantasy world of the "Escape Hatch."

Her body took over, responding to the caress of his hands moving down her back, under her little rump and then back, to caress her breasts, starting once again the urgent fires. Her nipples stiffened against the rubbing of his chest and her little cunt grew hot mashed against the bulge of his pants.

Skibo picked her up, feeling the light slenderness of her body, her tits against his chest, her warmth against the hand grasping her small bottom. He carried her to the bed and laid her on it, standing back just to enjoy the slim perfection of her. Then he hastily dropped his pants and crawled in beside her.

His actions were calculated, the result of long experience. One of his buddies had once said that Skibo could arouse a store window dummy to screwing pitch. Now he played on Myra's responsive body, caressing her breasts, fingering her nipples, running his hands lightly but firmly over her stomach, down her thighs, and back to her little cunt.

Myra moaned, writhing with excited anticipation, humping up to meet his finger in her little box, whimpering with eagerness for a prick thrust far up her. And all the time she was saying her silent ritual, "Mommie, Mommie! It's for the 'Escape Hatch.' So I won't have to, ever again."

She felt his dong slide over her leg and rolled to meet it, her pelvis churning, her legs falling open for his entrance. She glanced down her body and saw his prick, hard, erect, a purplish bulb throbbing right by her cunt. She thrust at him, feeling it slide against her slit, hot now and wet with her juices. She clawed at his shoulders, trying to pull him over on her, her whole body afire, wanting that prick deep inside.

Skibo knew all the moves from long practice. He kissed her breasts, sucking at her nipples so that she arched her chest to meet this.

And his prick played almost indolently with the lips of her cunt until her whimper became "Please . . . Please . . . Please!"

He rolled her back and slid between her legs, his prick tight against her cunt but not penetrating while he pumped it rhythmically against her.

She rammed her pelvis against him, forcing the bulb inside, taking it in one gulp, and sank back, awaiting more of that delicious rod that would ram into her, go far up her and create exciting tensions and eventually release them, in a surge that would leave her limp, exhausted but satisfied.

She felt the shaft slide in, already pulsing, riding in short, quick takes far up her tunnel, stirring wild response. She writhed, moving her pelvis, humping to get more and more. It rode far up her, deep into her belly, starting her own juices to flowing, bringing added excitement, added tension, until she was moving in rhythm with his thrusts. Her breasts ached delightfully, rubbing against his chest and her whole body responded in a wave of heat that seemed ,to engulf her.

Then there was the feeling of his shaft pulsing and throbbing with his come all the way up her tunnel. She flung her pelvis tight against him, holding it, and he thrust one single time deep in her. And held it. Far up her tunnel, hot liquids discharged into her. And her body gave him back juices in wild profusion.

Finale! Climax!

They lay pressed tight against one another for a long moment and then, with a sigh, Myra dropped back, her body shivering with the release.

Skibo held her tight a moment longer and then, with a shuddering breath, rolled off her, dragging his limp, deflated pecker from her cunt.

Myra shivered and huddled against him to hold the draining warmth, and Skibo cuddled her, caressing her, easing the last of the tensions. Gradually her shivering stopped and she lay quietly, realizing that something important had happened to her. Something new, different, and exciting.

She had been fucked by, an expert. And she was about to get a proposition that would change her life.