Chapter 6
Joe moved toward her, wriggling his shorts down, exposing his privates, in the firm assurance that he had made a highly acceptable if not generous offer. And been accepted.
Myra stared aghast at his pecker, hanging and swinging, and then fled into deeper water, squatting to cover herself. "No! Go away! Please! Go away! I won't! I won't ! "
Joe took his eyes off her breasts and swung around to glower at Connie. "You said she fucked."
Connie was pouting peevishly. "You ain't never gimme nothing but sodas. And on'y oncet in a while."
"So who needs to? But you said . . . "
"She lost her cherry to Lem last night. Ain't that fucking? And Paw had her afterwards. So she fucks." Connie was defending herself, grievance forgotten.
He turned back to Myra, plainly bewildered. "I said I'd give you two bits. 'At's all I got. And two bits is right smart money when it ain't cherry no more."
Myra squatted in the water, too horrified to do more than shake her head, muttering, "No! No! No!" in a hopeless ritual of pleading.
Jim came up behind her, goosing her with his finger and laughing raucously as she straightened, stifling a scream. "Go on! Screw him an we'll watch." Jim. shoved at her small pink rump, so that she stumbled forward, almost to the edge of the stream.
Joe waded out and caught her arm, propelling her toward the strip of sand.
"Nice place back o' them bushes. Kinda private and soft."
Jim hooted with laughter. "Soft like the time you laid Connie in the poison ivy and got her ass in an uproar? Couldn't screw for a week."
Jessica joined Jim and together they shoved the bewildered Myra toward shore while Joe guided her with curious solicitude, as if he suddenly appreciated her worth. He even apologized. "Two bits is all I got."
"I don't want . . . " Myra began, struggling against the three of them.
"I said two bits and I'll pay two bits. Ain't no skin off'n my prick if'n you screwed a coupla relatives. It's perty near like being cherry."
Connie, over her initial annoyance with Joe, joined the others in shoving Myra up the bank and toward a spot behind a clump of bushes. She wrestled, struggling, and turned inadvertently to face Joe. He caught her In his arms, pulling her up against him, breathing heavily and moving his pelvis, so that his pecker, now bard, rubbed against her stomach.
And she felt the now familiar warmth surge through her crotch, heating her stomach, setting her nipples erect. Her body was betraying her again. She whimpered in misery and writhed to free herself. It only set other fires going as his pecker rubbed against her peehole.
With Jim and Jessica tugging at her sides and Connie hauling on an arm, she moved backward in a curious lock-step with Jim. Then Connie tripped her and she started to fall. Joe fell awkwardly with her, one leg sliding between hers. Connie and others, mostly through accident, cushioned her fall.
Myra lay there, half stunned, bewildered and miserable, unable to fight against these odds and the betrayal of her own body as the fires ran through her pee-hole, weakening her legs, making her breathe with open mouth in panting desire. She stared up at the overhanging leaves and ragged patch of blue sky, breathing her familiar appeal . . . "Mommie! Mommie! Please! Don't let them . . . "
Joe slid his other leg between hers, spreading her wide, his pecker ramming at her pee-bole as he humped and grunted. And her pee-hole answered with convulsive twitches, with heat and wetness as the lips opened. She closed her eyes at the pain of it, then opened them wide in horrified surprise as she realized he had gone in, humping and swearing. He drove his shaft roughly up her, hurting yet at the same tune causing excitement in her, far up her insides, so that she writhed to meet him.
She gulped, fighting nausea, and looked up to see Connie standing hunched a few feet away, gloating in malicious, childish triumph. Jim and Jessica were watching with avid interest. Despite the indignity of an audience Myra went on reacting to Joe's humping and thrusting as he tried to drive that delicious misery farther up her tunnel.
It was over quickly. Joe was not an adroit lover nor was he interested in the satisfaction of his partner. It was screw and have an orgasm for his own entertainment, which he seemed to feel he was buying at a generous price.
He gave one last heave, a deep thrust, and held it as his pecker pulsed and shot off in her. And it triggered response in her, so that, with a moan, she thrust up her little pelvis to meet his come and came herself in an explosion of light and soundless convulsions deep inside.
Joe collapsed on top of her and then rolled off as his pecker slid out of her hole He lay beside her for a moment, breathing heavily, puffing-out his lips and blowing blubbery noises.
Myra lay there, spread-eagled on the grass, her body shivering, her mind a turmoil, eyes squeezed shut in misery. She felt Joe leave her side but didn't see him go for his pants and dig deep for the quarter he had promised.
He came back and put it in her limp band, closing her fingers over the coin. "You sure do screw good. Yessiree. And it was worth every cent of it." He stood up, looking down at her hesitantly. "You all right, kid?"
Without opening her eyes, Myra nodded, moving her body slowly, contracting it into a ball of aching misery and shame, the coin clutched spasmodically in her small fist.
"You sure you all right, kid ? " There was a note of insipient panic in his voice, the vague beginnings of a worry that he had injured her and there would be consequences.
"I'm all right. Just leave me alone." Myra spoke, her voice muffled by the arm thrown across her face. "Just go away."
Joe let out a bray of laughter, half relief, half cockiness of the male conqueror. "You sure do fuck good, kid, I'll tell the boys. They been looking for fresh tail. And even at a quarter, they'll like it. Yeah, kid. You're good. And you can tell anybody Joe Butler says so." It was a magnanimous offer.
Myra nodded, not quite comprehending, but waiting for them to go away. She heard the voices receding; Connie arguing that she screwed a good dime's worth, anyhow, and what about right now?
They were gone. Slowly Myra pulled herself up, sitting, then rising painfully. She put out her hand to steady herself against a tree and realized she still clutched Joe's quarter. She opened her hand and looked at it stupidly, wondering why she held it so fiercely. On unsteady legs that ached with the punishment she had been subjected to, Myra made her way back to the creek, wading out and sinking gratefully into the water, chilly against her own feverish heat. She looked down once more at the shiny disc of the quarter and then flung it into the pool, shuddering.
She didn't know it, but although she threw it away, that quarter had established her local price. Which, if she could only appreciate it, was very good for that area and her future customers.