Chapter 4
If It Hadn't Been for That Dose....
"So who cares what that old frump says? She ain't even married to George and they got a baby, so who's she to talk? Sure they got a baby. That's how I met George, through baby-sitting. And he ain't so much, neither. Frousty ... Frousty? That's kind of like a man is a frump. Scruffy, longish hair and a sort of beard. Not that it's much of a beard, really. More like he don't give a damn about shaving. And cutoff jeans so his hairy legs'll show. You know the kind. Wears a peace medal and fights with everybody, including that frump he's hooked up with, Linda. Mrs. F. she calls herself ... the one reported me to the V.D. clinic.
"Yeah, I got it. Caught it from one of their scruffy friends. No, I can't say who, 'cause I don't know. Did I know he had the clap ... do you think I'd'a screwed him? Anyway, how am I to know? You don't ask a guy for his doctor's report when he's feeling you up for a lay. Leastwise, I don't. And I don't see no signs of clap. Wouldn't know 'em if I did see 'em. Even on me. At first I think I just got an itch.
"No, I ain't got it no more. Them doctors at the V.D. clinic give me some injections. All I know is I got stuck so much I feel like I sat on a porcupine ... anyhow, all them needles is enough to discourage a girl from ever screwing again. Better maybe than a psychiatrist. That's what you're supposed to be doing, ain't it? To keep me from going out and getting laid again? Not that I want to. Not right now, anyhow. With all them shots in my ass I don't feel much like lying on my back and letting some horny character ream me out. That's what they are, horny characters. Always got their dongs ready to slam into anything that's got a hole in it.
"And they ain't all as hot as they like to think they are. You take George-and you can have him-who thinks he's real hot stuff because he screwed that frump of his and give her a baby. You'd think he sired a litter or something. I've seen dogs that made a better job of it. Leastwise they do sire a litter. And don't make nothing great of it like George done over that brat of theirs.
"It's mostly on account of the brat they're living together, I figure. And that's just because he knocked up this frump, Linda. So they make like a big thing of it and don't get married, saying they are liberated people. Well, I figure it's just screwing with results. Like she didn't take her pill or something that week. Or maybe she even done it deliberate, not taking her pill, so she'd have a hold on George. I've heard 'em fight about that. Of course, being peace people, they're always fighting over something, so I guess that's as good an excuse as any.
"No, I don't know they're not married when I take the job of baby-sitting for the brat. Mom didn't know, neither, or she wouldn't'a let me. Mom's death on having bastards. She likes folks married upproper. Not that she's church ... or anyhow, not very much; just at Easter if the weather's good and at Christmas when they're handing out baskets.
"The brat? Oh, he's cute enough, even if he is a bastard. He don't know it yet so it don't bother him none. Fact is, he don't know nothing much except when his pants is wet and when he wants his bottle. Which I am there to take care of.
"Do I know how to change a diaper? Are you nuts or something? Four younger kids in my family and you want to know can I change a diaper! Look, I've changed diapers so often I can do it in my sleep. Babies don't care when they wet their pants or who they wake up with their howling. And they got appetites like they can eat all times of day and night. Can we get on to how come I got laid and got the clap?
"Well, I had plenty jobs baby-sitting, having got experience at home, you might say. People around know I can handle kids. So I'm kinda in demand. 'Specially on Fridays and Saturdays, which is when most young folks want to step out a little, not being able during the week since the guy is usually working. .
"Only the F.'s-that's what they call theirselves even if they ain't married-don't work. They're artistic-if you want to call the junk they knock together art-and live off n her old man, mostly. Though sometimes George's mom loosens up with a few bucks when she can slip it by his old man who don't think much of George's long hair and scruffy beard ... nor his art. Not when the old man has a good job as superintendent at his factory waiting for him.
"Which George scorns. He says making plumbing fixtures ain't artistic, just money-grubbing. So what's he got against money? And he sure must'a had a grudge against art, too, from the things him and Linda did in what they called their studio. I've seen better art work flung together by accident on the city dump, where they get most of their art materials. And their friends come around and exclaim over it ... how it expresses soul and all that. Only they don't buy nothing, mostly being broke themselves, and scrounging meals offn George and Linda when Linda's check comes. Funny how folks that scorn money can always smell it around and come galloping toward it, especially if it means a free meal.
"Anyway, like I was saying, they don't work regular so they ain't just off on weekends like regular folks with jobs. So I can take 'em on for extra nights, like Wednesdays, seeing as I can do my homework there as well as home. Maybe better, because with five kids, our house is sorta awful full and crowded. Which is one reason I like baby-sitting.
"I get plenty of jobs because the neighbors know that I know how to take care of kids. Only babysitting ain't quite what I thought it was gonna be like. I mean, it was just like taking care of the kids at home, only getting paid for it. Not like some of the girls talk about ... Oh, you know, the papas make passes and try to lay the baby-sitter. And some of 'em do get laid. To hear them tell how it was, that is.
"Oh, I had some passes made. But sort of halfhearted, you know, like the guy knew I wouldn't, but he was keeping his hand in. They was kind of interesting, and one or two looked like they might really get down to business. Only they didn't. I mean, something always come up, like his wife comes in or he's got to go on an emergency job or some buddies drop by to take him bowling, or maybe he's just going out with his wife. Which is mostly the way of baby-sitting.
"And driving me home afterwards-well, that's when most of the passes is made-there ain't really time to get things going. Beyond getting a girl kind of hot and bothered. And that it does. I mean, like me getting horny and waiting for more. Only it don't happen. The guy is just keeping his hand in, to see can he get a girl worked up, like he done his wife once. Which is maybe why she's his wife ... and why I've got a job baby-sitting with the result.
"Some of the fellers is real cute. Young but grown-up so you know getting laid by one of them isn't gonna be like some snotnose fumbling in the back of a car. It'll be for real, with a grown man's pecker rammed in you and riding you good. And you try to figure out just how good it'll be, but you ain't got nothing to go by except some tales from other girls that ain't always truthful. Some of 'em can dress up a pass to make it sound like rape with bells on.
"But even that can be exciting. Just talking about getting screwed, even if you can figure it didn't really happen. On account some of the girls can get pretty flossy with the details. And by now I know some of them details ain't so accurate. Like one girl says this feller has a pecker sixteen inches long, and buries it in her. Ain't no guy got a pecker that long! Why, it'd stick out the girl's mouth, maybe. I ain't never seen one more'n half that and most a lot less. But they done all right.
by me, anyhow. I don't think size matters.
"Sure I been screwed. How come you think I got this V.D.? Out of the ladies' powder room? Or drinking fluoridated water or something? I got it getting fucked, which is the usual way to get it. But it wasn't George got into my panties first, though it happened at his house.
"I get this call from Linda, sweet-talking Mom into letting me come to baby-sit, just like it's a regular job. Only I get there and it ain't. Linda is throwing a party on account George sold one of his sculptures-most likely for a doorstop or maybe somebody needed firewood-for ten bucks, and she's spending fifty or so on the party. I'm getting five, so there ain't much profit in George's sale. Not that I care about that, but I'm teed off on account all they want me to do is keep the brat quiet while they throw this party, so he won't disturb nobody. And I gotta stay in the bedroom and not butt in on the party.
"Honest, I don't mind the brat. He's sort of cute for a bastard. And mostly pretty good, except about wetting his pants, and at that he's an expert. I don't even mind the kind of baby smell that always gets in a room where there's a baby ... and hangs on. Kind of ammonia and talcum smell, along with the smell of marshmallows. Don't ask me why kids' rooms smell of marshmallows. They just do.
"I'm just sitting there, watching the brat sleep, which ain't exactly exciting. I can't have television or my record player on, on account it'll wake him up. And I got to keep the door closed on account of the party noises. So I just sit there, thinking. And dreaming up how some guy will screw me and how it'll feel. Which gets me some excited down in my panties, remembering some of the stories and imagining how it'd be with a grown guy's pecker rammed up me. I get real hot and bothered and decide to have a look at me. There is a mirror door in the room where I can see me full length. So I peel slowly, so as to get the feel of a guy taking my clothes off, right down to the buff.
"I've got a right cute little figure, even if I'm only thirteen. My tits are not big, but they're high and sort of nicely rounded. With little pink nipples that start getting stiff and standing up when I play with 'em. And my legs are nice, too. Not skinny with knobs for knees but rounded. And my slit looks interesting. As it turns out, it's interesting to men, too. Anyhow, I'm playing with it, just running my finger along the lips and tickling my clit, which gets me excited but don't really make me come, even when I sort of squat and run my finger inside, getting a little more excitement.
"So I don't notice the door open or hear this guy come in till I see him in the mirror, standing right behind me and grinning, kind of cute and wicked, like he knows some real naughty secrets. He quirks up one eyebrow and looks at what I'm doing. 'Is that the best you've got? Or could you use what I have to fill in?' And he reaches around me, grabbing a tit in each hand. And squeezing ... not hard ... letting my nipples spurt out between his fingers, which is working on 'em.
"He pulls me back against him and I can feel the bulge of his pecker against my rump. I'm scared but I like it. And I like the way his hands roam all down my front, teasing, and then coming back to my tits to play with my nipples. He winks in the mirror at me, 'And don't yell, because you'll wake the baby.'
"I ain't about to yell. Why should I? This here is what I been dreaming would happen and now it's happening. Only, it's scary. And I suddenly ain't so sure I want it to happen, except I'm excited from playing with myself. And here a grown man is sliding his hand down my belly and right on to the open snatch, cupping right over my little sex box, with one finger playing at the lips and starting in.
"By now I can't yell, I ain't got the breath. It's so exciting it sort of cuts my wind and makes my belly tighten up, and my sex box gets kind of loose and easy. And about then this guy-I don't even know his name-backs across the room, holding me close against him and playing with my twat. He sort of folds into a chair and pulls me on his lap, spreading my legs with his knees. Which makes it even easier to get his finger up my snatch. And even more exciting to me, because I can feel his pecker swell and bulge in his pants, right up against my rump.
"With one hand teasing my titties and the other working in my sex box, he's really got me going. I mean, real hot and suddenly ready for anything he can throw in me ... I'm ready and wanting ... and waiting ... and a little scared. I ain't denying the first time is scary, like you don't know what's gonna happen but you know it's gonna be big. And maybe wonderful, or maybe not, depending from whom you heard about it.
"Then I look down at my little hot box and what's sticking up? His pecker, right between my legs. I can't see much of it, just that big head, oozing so it's gleaming, like dewdrops. Now I don't really get worried on account I'm too excited, with that big dong peeping out from between my legs and rubbing right up against my slit. But I do get the shivers wondering how it's gonna be when that thing reams up my hot box.
"This guy is sort of rocking back and forth, just a little, so his pecker is moving up and down along my slit and starting things going in places I never even knew I had, way up in my guts, and up under my ribs, so I can't hardly breathe at all. And he's fingering my clit ... I'm almost shaking with excitement. Hell, I am shaking, and shivering. And when his fingers spread the edges of my slit and his big cock rubs right smack into it, I really get the heaves so bad I'm almost sick to my stomach.
"Then he kind of slides down a little and lifts me some and pumps his dong head right smack into my slit. I see it ... I feel it ... it hurts. I mean, that little sex box of mine ain't never had nothing bigger than my finger in it, and now it's taking that tough dong head. It's stretching. I whimper a little, and this guy rubs my tittie and says soothing things while he's pushing that head deeper and deeper with that baseball bat dong of his. Least it feels that big going in. And it looks something huge.
"But my snatch is taking it all. Stretching some, but taking it. And suddenly it's good, awful good. Like nothing that ever happened to me before. Good and likely to get better, at least that's how I felt. Sure, it was gonna be wonderful. So I kind of settle down on it with a sigh, driving that dong up my cunt some more. I can feel that huge head moving way up inside of me, pushing parts of me aside like I'm made of rubber, very sensitive rubber that can feel and mighty near think. Only I ain't really thinking, just feeling, with excitement building up and up, like I'm a clock getting wound too tight.
"And then I'm riding that pecker of his, bouncing up and down to make the movements up inside me all the more exciting. While all the time he's playing his hands over my titties and across my stomach and once in a while down to tease my clit, just for extra kicks. And he's kissing the back of my neck and around the sides where them veins pulse under your ear.
"I feel big as all outdoors and kind of light, like I could float, only instead I'm bouncing up and down, driving that pecker of his up my snatch, way far up. Lots farther than I could ever get a finger. Or even a candle, I think, though I ain't ever tried a really big candle, like some of the girls say feels just like a pecker. Couldn't nothing feel as good as a pecker up my cunt.
"Now him and me work together, him humping and me bouncing, with him sort of controlling the bounce with his hands and arms. And I'm whimpering. Not loud, 'cause I'd wake the baby. All I want is something big to happen that will untie all them knots in me and let that spring unwind.
"Only, it keeps getting tighter and tighter and more and more exciting, with my juices way up me keeping his dong wet and slippery so it can move easy. And then I begin to get so tight, I figure I am really about to scream when it happens.
"This guy suddenly grabs my hips and lifts me a little, holding me like that while I can feel his pecker in me throbbing and bobbing and swelling. And I just know IT is about to happen, not that I'm sure then what IT is, but I find out. He slams me down on his pecker, ramming way, way up, and holds me while things explode inside. Real hot come pumps into me, and I go off like a hotrod start. And my juices are pumping through me and I'm seeing lights that ain't there. Only, it's all in my head, or maybe my belly where it's all happening. I hold my breath for it seems like an hour but ain't really more'n a minute. Time don't count, just feeling. And I'm feeling more things than the law allows. I'm big ... tremendous! Like I fill the room.
"Then it's over. Oh, maybe there's some excitetment when his pecker slides out, wet and sticky and a lot smaller than when it went in. And he lies back in the chair with a sigh, and I fall back against him, shivering with the easing off of excitement. That was my first fucking, and I ain't never even seen the guy's face except in the mirror.
"I just lay back against him, feeling his chest heave and his hips kind of settle down. Finally I move around to get a little more comfortable, sort of curling up in his lap and laying my head on his shoulder. And I see him for the first time for real. Profile. And he's cute, masculine cute, with a kind of snub nose and a faintish mustache and a real kissable mouth. What's more, he ain't so scruffy-looking as most of the guys that hang around George and Linda. His shirt's even clean. Well, rumpled now, but still clean, even if he has sweated some in it.
"He grins down at me, his eyes crinkling up. 'Hello, there. Since we're such good friends we might introduce ourselves. I'm David. And seeing as we're old friends now, you can call me Dave.'
"I kind of sigh and try to grin back, only it don't work so good, seeing as I'm still shaky from the fucking. 'I'm Elaine ... the baby-sitter.'
"He pats my rump, real gentle. 'Happy to know you, Elaine. 'very happy to know you. And maybe we'll meet again some time. Like tomorrow?'
"I shake my head. 'Not tomorrow. I'm not babysitting no more until the day after. For the B-s.
On Hill Street.'
"Dave grins real wicked. 'Good old B-s. I know 'em well. And I might just wangle myself an invitation ... when they're not home.' He grins again. 'And you are.'
"I kind of think that over. The B-kid is usually pretty good. He's in bed by the time I get there and generally sleeps right on through. And the B-s are nice people. I mean, they don't mind when you raid the refrigerator, just so you don't leave a mess. I ain't never asked them about having a boyfriend drop in but I figure if they don't mind raiding the refrigerator, a boyfriend won't matter.
"Finally I nod, 'Friday night at the B-s.
They go out early. About six-thirty and they come back around twelve. Even on Friday nights they ain't so much on real lateness.'
"Dave pretends he is thinking that over and then nods. "That should be eminently satisfactory. Provided .the good old B-s have a convenient couch. I don't know what a chair would do but a couch is better. For some things. Don't you agree?'
"If he knows the good old B-s so well how come he don't know they got a really swell couch in their living room? Then I get it. He's kidding about knowing them. So I wink at him. 'There's a couch. And maybe it's better. I don't know. I never tried it except in a chair. This chair.'
"Dave's eyebrows go up. 'Oh, ho. So George has been ... No? Listen, kid, are you saying I'm the first? Well dog my cats! I been cutting some fresh nooky and didn't know it! Ain't that bodacious!' And suddenly he is worried. 'You all right, kid? I mean, you aren't hurt or anything? Good Lord! And I thought you were just something good and private George had stashed away! Are you sure you're all right?'
"I nod and smile sort of dreamily. 'I'm fine. Only I ache a little. But that don't make no never mind. I liked it. Honest! I been dreaming about getting it ... only not like this. And I got it. And I like it. So maybe that couch will be better. I'm willing to find out.'
"Dave shakes me a little, frowning. 'You sure, now? There's no way of fixing up what I've done, but I don't want to hurt a sweet kid like you ... '
"I put a finger on his lips-which he kisses, real tender-and tell him, 'I ain't hurt none, beyond aching and that's a good kind of ache. And I'm willing and able.'
"Dave nods, making his face real mock solemn. 'Able you are, Elaine, able you are. So able ... and maybe so willing that just having you sit here in my lap, even after that jim-dandy we just had, is giving me some very naughty ideas. Naughty but most interesting. So jump up and put your clothes on. Or better yet, sneak a shower. I'll stand watch over Junior while you wash up.'
"Sitting there in his lap is giving me ideas, too. Only I know it ain't safe. Linda might come in to look at the brat any minute. I don't know if she does it, but lots of mother do. So I better hurry and shower and get back into my clothes.
"Dave flips a hand at my rump as I get up. It stings a little but just enough to show it's for fun, not a real bottom smack, like I've had some guys give me. And I get my shower, maybe taking a little longer than usual on account it feels so good on my skin, and I've got lots of things to think about. And they're very exciting things. Like the first screw I ever got. I've been fucked by a guy I hadn't never really seen. Then I thought about the date me and Dave set up for Friday.
"And I just about make it. I'm just settling my clothes when Linda pops in, peering around. She's awful nearsighted, but she won't wear glasses. Ain't vanity a funny thing? She dresses sloppy when she could afford really swell clothes and goes around in sandals, with her feet dirty, but she won't wear glasses.
"She spots Dave. 'Oh, there you are! I missed you at the party. And wondered what happened to you.' She leans forward a little and stares at me. 'You're Elaine, aren't you?' Like she hasn't seen me before when I been coming there for weeks. Of course, not wearing glasses, maybe she really don't see faces so good, just pink blurs. But who else does she expect to find in the baby's room except the baby-sitter. And, of course, Dave, who she don't expect to see.
"Dave nods toward the bed. 'I've just been admiring your son, Linda. He doesn't resemble George very much, does he? But of course, he's George's son ... isn't he?'
"Linda kind of draws herself up, huffing a little. 'Of course he is. Mine and George's, why else do you think I married him?'
"Dave shrugged. 'Could have been the cabbage patch, but of course that's not it, no matter what people say.'
"Linda turns to leave, peering over her shoulder. 'You are a nasty piece of work, aren't you, Dave. Just because you and I once ... ' She went out, slamming the door.
"Dave grinned at me. 'At least it took her mind off what you and I might have been doing' He leaned over and kissed me, real nice and kind of cool. 'See you Friday. You and that couch.' And winked at me as he went out.
"So I got a lot to think about while I'm sitting out the rest of the party. Besides what a grand screwing I had and how wonderful fucking can be. Lots better than you ever dream up before it happens.
"I got some long-range plans of my own to work on, like for Friday night, and how fucking is gonna feel lying on that big cushiony couch. And scrounging around in my head for other places I baby-sit where maybe Dave can come over and we can try out some other couches.
"I work up a fair list of places where we can screw in comfort, without nobody dropping in or coming back unexpected, like the H-s do sometimes, since they lots of times have a fight at a party and come home early. So I've got my own long-range plans, and some good remembering to do. And first thing I know, the party's over and I'm headed for home, with George driving, even though Dave offered but Linda says, kind of snappish, 'Let George do it!' and she ain't making a joke.
"But I don't really care. I got Friday night to look forward to."
Elaine A. came from a low income family, as indicated by her speech, her own account of the family, the general circumstances and her peer group friends. Baby-sitting seems to have been a customary and fairly general occupation among the young teen-agers of her social milieu. As she indicates, sex seems to have pre-occupied the minds of her peer group contemporaries, as might be expected. Her peers were all young teen-agers, girls just emerging from the period of latency with great interest in their sex organs.
Up to the age of six or seven, Freud theorizes, a child is intensely curious about its sex organs, as it is about virtually everything that has to do with its body. By the age of seven other interests have superseded those of its person. The child is becoming absorbed in the world around it and curiosity about its organs goes into what Freud has termed "the period of latency," to be reawakened at puberty when significant changes in bodily structure are occurring. For girls this is most noticeable, particularly in the emergence of breasts, the rounding out of legs, development of hips and, particularly, the menstrual periods, which definitely focus attention on the genitalia.
While girls of one social milieu may become secretive about the emotions aroused by these significant changes, those of another find them the most fascinating topic for discussion and speculation. In the particular socio-economic milieu in which Elaine was reared-with relatively few outlets for entertainment and, because of generally large families, only slight parental guidance and control-the topic of sex provides many interesting hours.
Elaine herself recognized that a number of the girls were fantasizing about their alleged sexual experience. Yet, as she said, the very fact of talking about it aroused interest and curiosity. Given the factors of her-very recent emergence from the period of latency into the excitements of puberty-with only token parental supervision-and the stimulus of discussions of sexual encounters some of them graphic, if false and inaccurate-it is only natural that Elaine developed an intense interest in the prospects of a sexual encounter with one of her baby-sitting clients.
As Maxwell Douglas indicates in Documented Cases of Sub-Teen Sex, juvenile delinquency among sub-teens (fourteen and under was the subject age selected by the American Institution of Motivation Research, which funded this project study, as being that at which emotional drive was not as great as other factors), there is far greater sexual activity among this group than the general public is inclined to believe. He quotes the California Youth Authority as saying, "There are more than one hundred thousand cases of sub-teen sex annually in the State of California." He also cites the National Committee on Crime Prevention and Parole as estimating, "There are more than a million such cases annually in the United States."
Emotional drive exists at that age level, as Freud has pointed out. Usually it remains only an emotional drive until other factors intervene, factors that can trigger the emotional drive into sexual activity. One of these, as we see, is the repeated stories of sexual promiscuity circulated among the group, coupled with an aggressive personality and the necessary opportunity.
The Blau-Bender-Rasmussen study of sub-teen sexual activity concluded that the majority had contributed to their own delinquency. "They were not the helpless victims but played an active or even initiating role in their delinquency. They might even be considered the seducers instead of the seduced." This indicates a somewhat aggressive nature, generally, plus the factor of opportunity.
Elaine had this aggressive nature. She went out and obtained her baby-sitting jobs, at home she managed, with apparent capability, four younger children. She had her sexual interest stimulated and provoked by stories from her peers. And lastly, she had opportunity, of her own deliberate seeking.
Though she says she didn't dare yell-at the time Dave made his initial approach to her-for fear of waking the baby, this is a thin excuse. If she had not been pre-conditioned to the idea of sex by her bodily needs, the stories of her peer group and her immediate effort at masturbation, she could have easily avoided Dave's advances. As it was, by acquiescence, she contributed to her own delinquency.
The Blau-Bender section of the massive study on youthful delinquency further states that "the association in the act of a grown-up, who to the child must still represent the omnipotent parent (authority), probably condones the transgression." Certainly Dave was a grown-up. She obeyed his in junction not to yell. And she not only submitted to his sexual advances but cooperated fully. Also, she seems not to have suffered any psychic trauma from her sexual activity with Dave. So it is quite possible that she met the Blau-Bender criteria, without any emotional traumatic effect. Freud states that "psychic trauma must come from within," and Elaine apparently felt no guilt. Only, as she states, immense physical satisfaction, or as Freud puts it, "the hedonistic gratification of the sexual drive."
"I'm not a tramp, like some girls you see, screwing for money. Like I done for Dave, I screw for fun. Of course, Dave is a kind of special case, being my first. I don't even hint around they should give me presents, like some girls do, even if Dave did gimme this amber necklace. Pretty, ain't it? And real amber. That's stuff that ... well, there's some superstition about how it keeps you well. Hasn't done me a bit of good, seeing as I got the clap anyhow. Of course, I wasn't wearing the necklace at the time.
"Not any of the times, matter-of-fact. I keep it as a sort of memento of that first time. In my drawer.
Maybe I should'a kept it in my drawers.... That's a joke. Then maybe I wouldn't'a got this clap.
I tell Mom it's glass, from the dime store, and she don't know the difference. I don't figure she ever seen real amber, so how can she tell? Not that she pays that much attention to me, having four younger ones to look after, and they're a handful, I can tell you.
"Dave gave me this that Friday he came to the B-s' place. And, like I say, I keep it for a memento. It's to remember that first screwing I got. As if I need a necklace to remember that. Only, a girl likes to have something she can han die, to help her remember all along how good it was. I got the necklace to remember by. And the phony gold peace emblem George gave me, for the one time he got into my panties. And Fred's gold locket with the diamond, just a teensy bit of a chip but it's a real diamond. Mom still thinks I got it out of a Cracker Jack box. She's kinda naive in some ways. Simple ... sweet, but simple. I like Mom, in spite of the lambasting she gave me when she found out about the clap. She still kinda half believes I got it from the ladies' John in the department store. Maybe because she wants to. Moms are like that, ain't they?
"Maybe if she hadn't been so took up with the younger kids, so we could have had talks about things, I wouldn't be in this jam. I don't know, honest, I don't. I got the itch, so maybe all the talks in the world wouldn't have stopped me. And I like screwing-all of it, except this clap I got, and the shots I have to take in my ass. Sure I like fucking. Who doesn't?
"Dave? Oh, sure ... sure. ... Well, I go to the B-s and they go out, like regular, saying, 'Midnight, maybe later.' So I got plenty of time for me and Dave. And he pops in almost as soon as they're gone, like he's waiting outside, watching to see when they leave. And grinning that impish grin. And holding up the necklace, jiggling it, 'A memento of a momentous occasion.'
"He also gives a box-the Pill. And tells me I better use 'em, so I won't get no babies. Not that I figure I'll get one. I'm kinda young for a baby to get going, though there's a couple of girls I know had 'em at thirteen. Anyway, I appreciate his thinking of it ... thirteen? Gosh, it just hit me! They must've started screwing when they're only twelve, which is kinda young, ain't it? Sure, thirteen's young but it's a lot different from twelve. I got tits and nice looking legs, but a kid of twelve, why, she's just a kid. Mostly scrawny and flatchested. At least I was developed ... sort of grew up sudden.
"Dave settles down on the couch, with his arm around me, talking soft and low, kinda intimate. And he puts the necklace on me. Only the clasp don't work, and it slips down my blouse. Or maybe Dave done it on purpose, so he could reach down and grab a feel, fumbling for the necklace. Anyway, it works, 'cause it starts me to really getting hot in my snatch.
"Not that I ain't sort of ready for what's coming, just from thinking about it and remembering how he screwed me that first time. My little twat is almost twitching with being ready. But funny enough, I ain't in a hurry. I mean, we got all evening and even a good screw don't take long. Not really, just seems like it does. And yet, it seems too short, too. Now that's funny, ain't it? But the preliminaries-that's Dave's word for fooling around, teasing me up-they've their own kind of fun and excitement. And make the screwing that much better. Only, I don't believe it at first, on account I remember that first fuck, which was sort of unexpected and hadn't none of these preliminaries-and it was pretty good.
"Dave lets me alone for a few minutes, just talking ... mostly about was I sure I really wanted to go ahead, which was silly. Of course I did. And getting more so, just sitting next to him and feeling his body heat. And then he put his hand on my leg and started sliding it up and down, talking soft and easy the whole time. And getting closer to my sex box each time. And one hand draped over my shoulder, fiddling with my blouse and then sliding his hand inside, cupping my tittie and squeezing. Which makes me kind of limp and breathless, so I lean against him and push the other tittie up against his chest and nuzzle a bit into his neck, tonguing that pulse in his throat.
"That sort of starts things getting serious. He undoes my blouse and looks at my titties. 'Baby, you got 'em!' And he kisses one, tonguing my nipple. That drives me crazy ... I undo my miniskirt and let it slide down on the couch, so there's nothing but panties to get out of. And they ain't much. Kind of skimpy but loose. I wore 'em special 'cause I figured I'd want out of 'em pretty quick. And these kinda tie on each side, in bow knots you can just tug at, and they come apart. Which is awful convenient, especially if you don't tie the knots too tight to begin with.
"Dave finds the knots quick enough, running his hand over my panties and across my snatch. And he tugs. So I'm practically naked. The panties fall off, between my legs, which is good enough ... he can reach right down and feel my sex box. Which he does, playing a finger right up against my slit. I am breathing kind of heavy and with a little trouble, kissing his neck and tonguing that pulse in his throat. I reach around to grab him around the neck, which pulls my titties up against him. It catches his hand but that don't matter, 'cause just feeling his hand hot against my tittie is giving me butterflies in my stomach, and making my sex box into a real hot spot.
"Dave is fingering my pussy, wiggling his finger a little, so I'm not only getting hot, I'm wetting myself with juices. And I'm opening up. I can feel things swell inside of me. And his finger slips in, teasing my clit and then sliding right into my snatch. I'm near ready to scream, only instead I start begging, 'Please, please, please ... ' and opening my legs so his hand's got free play.
Only it ain't his hand I want, it's that big dong of his, with the bulby head rammed into me.
"I even reach down and feel his pants, where his pecker is bulging and throbbing. Dave reaches down, unzips his pants and guides my hand inside, where I can really feel it. It's big and stiff and throbbing. I pull it out and stare at it. And I don't believe it. I don't believe that that big dong and huge head can be slammed up into my cunt.
"Dave is undoing his belt and sliding out of his pants, while I still hold his big shaft, squeezing it just a little and watching his juices pop out and glisten. He peels out of his shirt-he ain't wearing either briefs or undershirt-knowing they'll just get in the way. And soon he's naked, too, holding me on the couch and feeling my snatch and my tittie, and maybe running his hand over my stomach till I'm near about heaving my cookies with excitement. He turns me a little and eases me back onto the couch, keeping his hand on my snatch, and I still got hold of his pecker, which by now I am pulling on, to get it into my cunt. I let my legs drop open more and Dave climbs between 'em, with me still holding on to his dong shaft and tugging it up close against my cunt, which is open, wet and ready.
"Dave reaches down and takes my wrist. 'You don't have to choke it to death, kid. Or pull it off. I like it and I got uses for it. Like this.' And he gets my hand loose and pushes his dong head right at my snatch.
"I can't see it so well as I done the first time, with my back to him and his dong head poking at me from behind, up between my legs. But I can sure feel it. I feel it all over, inside and out, and his dong can't go in too fast to suit me. Only, Dave holds it like that, just working it back and forth right at the entrance of my pussy-and pretty damned near setting things on fire down thereand a long way up, inside. I reach up and grab his shoulders, trying to pull him down on me, so's his dong head will slip inside and really get things going. I even reach for his butt and pull him to me, but he resists, telling me, 'We hold it, kid ... it's better.' So, maybe he knows.
"Because when he does drive his dong head into me, I'm near ready to explode, just feeling that dong head slipping way up inside. And his dong itself is sliding in and out of my snatch starting fires and beating drums I can't see but can hear. He gives me a real hot tonguing kiss, deep in my throat, and rams that pecker of his up to the hilt, till I can feel his hairy mat up against my crotch. And his dong is moving just enough to be exciting and stir things up for me. I'm near about screaming. And I can't. I'm sucking on that tongue of his ... it's 'most choking me. And we're humping. Dave is rising up a little and ramming back down. And I rise up a little to meet him. Slow at first, like we're just getting the hang of each other. And then faster and faster, with me clawing at his shoulders and every now and then reaching down to his rump to pull him up deeper.
"I'm pretty close to blowing a gasket and splattering everything for yards around when suddenly he stops, with his dong about halfway out. And he moves real slow and easy, just teasing. And I know it's coming. And I'm ready for it. Ready and waiting.
"Dave rams down, hard, driving that shaft into me, pushing his dong head so far up me I'm sure something's gotta give. And it busts. Or feels like it. That dong just explodes his come into my belly, hot and exciting. And I go off, flooding my own self with juices, and whimpering and clinging to Dave like he might take off into the wild blue yonder without me. Only I'm writhing and twisting ... and then I go limp. A person can take just so much excitement when something has to give. And I gave all ... and slumped.
"Dave slumps on me, drooping his head and snorting practically in my ear. I like the feel of his body pressing on mine. And the hotness of it. And I get a sort of extra kick out of having his dong wilt and slide out, starting some new shivers. But the main screwing is over. We're fucked out for now.
"Dave rolls off a me and lays beside me, breathing heavy and grinning like crazy. His dong is sure melted down to near nothing and is wet and shiny with our come. And I lay there beside him just enjoying us both snuggled up on one couch. But for right then I've had it, even if littler bells and lesser sky rockets go off every now and then in me, mostly maybe from just remembering, setting me shivering.
"That's our second fuck, and the. first of that evening. The next one is slower. And maybe even more exciting for being slower. He takes my hand and guides it down to his limp dong, so I can play with it, while he teases my clit with a finger. And gradually I can feel his dong throb and grow. And we're at it again. It is better for being slower. Or anyhow, it seems so. Maybe we'd have done it a third time, only the B-kid wakes up and yells.
"Dave nudges me and grins. 'Saved by the yell. Go tend to the kid. And I guess we call it quits for tonight, on account of it's getting late.'
"So I slip into my miniskirt and blouse, without the panties, and go fix the kid a fresh diaper. And by then it is too late for another screw, even if I could take it, which I ain't too sure then I can, being near exhausted and aching a bit down around my snatch. That ain't really true, I find out later. I can take lots more'n that.
"Why, one night Dave and me went four times, and then there was that time I had them three fellows in that motel room and each of 'em fucked me twice.
"That was after things got kinda complicated. Like I wasn't figuring on. screwing nobody but Dave, seeing as he was my first. And what need was there of more, since we were doing all right? I mean, I'd get a job baby-sitting and tell Dave, and he'd come around and we'd have us a ball. We could get in maybe two good fucks in an evening and then Dave had to haul tail before the folks come home. We had to be careful whose house we done it in because some folks come home early and unexpected.
"That happens once when I'm baby-sitting at the F.'s. George and Linda had a spat at some party and George comes home alone, early, real early. So it must have been some spat, 'cause they was always fighting and arguing, without walking out on each other. Anyhow, George came in just as Dave and me is finishing up our first screw, and he catches us. We're both naked as peeled eggs. So there ain't no mistaking what's happening.
"George comes in, steaming about Linda and some guy she's making eyes at. He lamps us, naked on the divan, and blows his stack. I'm embarrassed as all hell, being caught like that, even if George is kinda funny. I mean, he's sort of weedy, so storming about 'violating his home' and pointing to the door-only it's the door to the bedroom by mistake-and telling Dave never to darken his door again.
"Dave could have whipped shit out of him, 'cause Dave is really built. Only he don't want no fight, especially with me involved, like he says.
So he goes quietly, a smile on his cute face.
"That leaves me sort of huddled on the divan, hugging my clothes and looking over 'em at George, who is glowering. So what can I say? I'm fair caught out. And maybe he'll tell Mom about me screwing Dave and all hell's gonna burst loose. So I just look up at him, kind of shy and appealing, and bundle my clothes up closer under my chin, so he gets a good view of my titties, and I curl around so he can see my snatch and get a really good view of my legs and rump.
"I whimper, 'Please don't tell Mom. Please, I'll do anything ... Honest! ... I'll do anything, only don't tell Mom.' And I got that anything in mind, even if getting caught has sorta cooled down my hot cunt.
"George goes on glowering for a few minutes, getting sort of pompous. 'You have violated a trust, Elaine. We trusted you. And this is how you betray that trust ... with a cheap four-flusher like David.'
"I whimper some more and work up some real tears, enough to trickle down my cheeks if I squinch my eyes up. Only, I watch him from under the lids, sort of peeping, And he's noticing me. I can see his eyes roving. And he licks his lips.
"Finally he comes over and sits beside me, patting my leg. 'Don't cry, Elaine. Maybe we can work something out.'
"I drop my clothes and turn to give him a big hug and smile. 'Oh, thank you, Mister George. Thank you.' And I press my titties up against him, mighty near scratching my chest on that dangly peace medal. George starts patting my shoulder and saying, 'There! There!' in kinda hoarse, scratchy tones. Plus his hand is wandering along my leg. And the hand on my shoulder starts wandering, too, reaching for one of my titties. So, I know I got it made. He's hooked. No question.
"I sigh, real soft, and sorta crumple, letting one hand droop down on his crotch. I can feel his dong bulging like it's about to bust through them tight jeans he wears. And I rub a little, stirring things up in him. And in me, too, I'm getting over the scare I had from getting caught and begin to feel real horny again.
"He's helping it along, squeezing my tittie and letting his other hand drift up on my snatch. 'Maybe I was a little harsh, Elaine.' And he says it with a real tremble in his voice. 'Maybe you and I can work this out. Just us two. And nobody need ever know.' And I know how he figures on working it out, by getting a good lay for himself. Which I am willing to do, seeing as I am getting steamed up again, almost like I do for one of Dave's second fucks.
"I let my legs fall open, even if it means stretching one a bit, so he can get his hand right down on my hot snatch. He does, playing with it. He ain't as smooth as Dave. Maybe when there's a hand right on your snatch, smoothness don't count too much. Anyway, I'm all hot and horny, ready for another good screw. I'll say this much for George, once he gets started, he ain't bad. Not real gentle, like Dave, and maybe a little hurried, which could be on account he don't know when Linda might come home. He's out of them tight jeans faster'n I would think he could manage. And his dong is bigger'n you'd expect from such a weedy sort of character. Big and stiff, bobbing around like a pole in the wind.
"I kinda let myself fall over on him, rubbing that dong up against my slit and wiggling so my titties will rub against his chest in spite of that scratchy peace medal, which he practically yanks off, along with his shirt. He ain't hairy in the chest, like Dave, but he's broader than you'd take him for.
"He plays with my titties and nibbles my nipples, while his finger is reaming up my sex box. So I'm really ready. I climb on him, facing him, and rub my slit right on his dong, which is wet and glittery. It's right pushed up against my slit and aiming in-and my snatch is opening up and making wet for the big entry.
"I slide down a little, pushing his dong almost inside. And then I back off, making like I'm horrified. 'Oh, Mister George! We hadn't oughta! Betraying a trust like this ... ' And I let him grab me back.
"He pulls me on to him, saying, 'Just call me George, not Mister, and with you and me, this ain't betraying. It's a sort of mutual agreement.' And he rams his pecker at me, so its head slips in, making me too breathless to talk any more. But who needs talk from then on?
"He rolls me over, so my back is up against the back of the divan, and really gets some leverage to stick his dong in. And I'm cooperating. I ain't saying I didn't. I ain't trying to make out George forced me or nothing like that ... I helped. Some on account I don't want him to tell Mom, but most on account I like getting screwed. And I'm getting screwed.
"We sort of slip around a little on the divan, so I slide under him, with my legs wide open and we really start fucking. I can feel his prick drive way up in me, practically all the way up my wet velvet tunnel, and I feel every scrap of it going in. Starting the real excitement, which is what fucking is all about. That awful, wonderful feeling of not having breath enough. Just from having a dick moving way up in your belly. And your belly gets tight and real tense. I reach around and grab his rump so I can pull him deeper in and get more dong rammed up me, till his bush is smack up against my slit. And he starts ramming, with me moving, too. Just a little at first, to stir things up inside me. And then we're really churning. I don't even remember it's George has his dong in me. It's just a dong, big and long and way up my belly, moving to make excitement more better.
"Suddenly, George draws his dong way out. Almost clear out, but I hump up to meet it, whispering to him, 'Don't take it out. I had my Pill, so I can't have a baby.' And he really rams me then ... deep. And holds it, while I feel the throb and swell of his dong. His throbbing dick explodes so hard I feel maybe I'll bust with the load of come he's spurting into me.
"I grab his shoulders and hang on, pushing up against him as hard as I can, taking every bit of his come, like I ain't never had any before. It's funny, ain't it? Each good screw seems like it happens for the first time, even if the action is the same and the excitement is pretty much alike each time. And it's plenty exciting.
"We lie there, hooked up and holding on, gradually subsiding, with me dropping away from him a little and him sliding down, away from my snatch, so his dong slips out, making me shiver, even if I know it's all over.
"Finally he looks at his wristwatch and says, 'Oh, my God!' and hops up. He points to the John and says, 'Get in there and wash up. And put your clothes on. Hurry. No telling when Linda might get sore at somebody else and come barging home. Oh, Christ, what have I done! ... '
"He's dressed when I come out and nervous as a six-titted cat with eight kittens. He keeps looking at his watch and muttering things. Finally he sits down, looking hard at me. 'We won't say anything about how you've been ... acting ... with Dave. And, of course, we won't mention what happened this evening. This will just be our secret.' And he tries a sort of watery smile on for size. So, I agree. That's what all that second screwing was for, wasn't it? To keep him from telling.
"Only he does tell. Not Mom or Linda, but among the men he knows. Maybe even a little strutting and bragging about how he's got something real good, right in his house, whenever he wants it. Anyway, it gets around I like getting laid. Which I do. At first it was just that I liked getting screwed by Dave and didn't think much about the screw itself. Then, after George, I know I like the getting laid part, and it isn't just Dave ... though I still like him best, on account he's the first.
"Anyhow, pretty soon Mom's getting calls for me to baby-sit for guys that ain't got any baby to sit with. Only, Mom don't know they ain't got no babies. I don't, first time out with this Fred character.
"At first, Fred pretends there's a baby asleep in the back room. He's sort of twitchy right at the start, like he ain't sure where to start or maybe should he even. I don't get it for a while, till he starts telling me about how cute lam and works out from that into sort of specifics, like my legs. Then he wanders around the room and looks back at me, and I'm sitting real demure, legs together and my hands in my lap, like I'm waiting for instructions. On baby-sitting. Only I'm catching on.
"So I'm not so surprised when he comes over and sits on the arm of my chair, looking right down my blouse which already starts getting me fussed up. You know, hot in my snatch, because I see it coming. And I lean forward, so he can see better. And he looks, getting a little red in the face.
"I know George, very well. 'very, very well. And he tells me that you ... well, would ten dollars be enough? Fifteen, huh? ... twenty?'
"I look real demure, only I show him some leg by wriggling in the chair so my miniskirt hikes up. That's more'n I usually get. For baby-sitting.'
"He grins then, like he's got his cue. 'I ain't talking about baby-sitting, kid. You know what I mean. This.' And reaches for my tits.
"I pull away, twitching my skirt even higher, and tell him, 'If you mean what I think you mean, I don't do it for money. I'm not that kind.' And I ain't. I just do it with guys I like. And I sort of cotton to this Fred character.
"Then I let him get a hold of my titties, and the fireworks start. So Fred lays me. Only we do it in his bedroom. Seems he not only don't have a baby, he don't even have a wife to give him one.
"The word gets around. And I find plenty of guys like Fred, who ain't got babies or wives but who need a lot of baby-sitting. And I'm getting my cunt worked out pretty regular. Not at the real baby-sitting jobs. I don't let any of the fellers come around then, except Dave, who is sort of special.
"Some of these guys just live in rooming houses where they can't take girls, so that's how come I wind up sometimes in a motel room. Like I say, once with three guys who take double turns, till I'm clear fucked out. Six times in one night is kind of an exhauster. And it's one of them guys who give me this clap. No, I don't know which one. How would I know? But he must've known he had it, so it ain't fair he screwed me and give me his clap.
"I don't know how Linda got on to it. Maybe one of the fellers that got it from me told George and he spilled his guts to Linda. He's the kind that would. Anyway, she reported me and got my behind shot full of antibiotics so I won't have no more clap. And I got to take this psychiatric treatment.
"There's one laugh I get out of it. Linda kinda held his screwing me over his head and made him go back to Papa and the plant, with his hair cut and regular clothes. Serves him right for spreading it around I could get laid, making like I got round heels, which I ain't really, I just like getting screwed. By guys I like. So what's wrong with that, except I got the clap, and got stuck in the ass so much I feel like a sieve...."
Elaine can be cited as an almost classic example of the very youthful sex delinquent. This does not in any way mitigate her acts, and more particularly those of her several paramours, any more than saying a man is a classic example of a murderer condones the act of murder.
Elaine could not alter her milieu. She could not change her bodily structure or fight her emergence from the period of latency, even had she known what it was. Because of a number of factors not emerging from her story, such as that she may have been subconsciously stimulated by the act of changing the diapers of her younger brothers, giving them baths, dressing and undressing them; the possibility that she witnessed the act of copulation between her parents; plus any number of other contributing factors, her pre-conditioning toward sex may have been greater than with many of her peer group. Certainly, Elaine was ready for sex ... and had it.