Chapter 2
I took a cold shower every morning and another one before I went to bed. My father said he had never seen me work so hard in my life. I dated a succession of girls and tried to make them all in my Ford, kept my fake Indian blanket folded neatly in the trunk where it waited for any and all feminine asses I could bring to it. None succumbed.
After what seemed like the entire rest of my life, a girl whose parents were in the valley for only about two months during the pear harvest waved to me from the outside of the little house they lived in behind Bumside's orchard.
I pulled the Ford over to get out and see what she wanted. What it was--was in my pants.
I never found out her name and she did not waste time getting acquainted. Taking my hand, she pulled me right into the house and as the door swung shut she was hugging me, rubbing her arms up and down my sides, and kissing me on the mouth.
I knew enough by this time not to look a gift cunt in the dark places, so I walked her back to the overstuffed couch that was almost the only piece of furniture in the room and certainly the only place I could see to lay her down on. If we ever did say anything I've forgotten what it was. It certainly was not "hello".
She had no panties on. As I pushed her over onto the couch, she flipped her knees up and exposed her thighs and her hair and everything she had down there. I took hold of her snatch, squeezed it all in my right hand, then slid my middle finger into the right place. She was dry when I started but before I was in past the second knuckle her juices started. I slid two more fingers in after the first one and moved them back and forth like a prick.
She unzipped my pants. She wanted my cock so much that she tried to pull it out through the fly but it was so stiff she could not bend it.
Leaving my right hand in her cunt, I unbuckled my belt with my left and unbuttoned the waist. She opened my pants for me and pulled everything down to my thighs, shorts and all, and my cock stood out at her and she grasped it, pulled it down toward her snatch.
I couldn't understand her desperation because I had no intention of leaving without fucking her. I thought that if she had any games in mind, like dry-fucking or anything that wasn't the real thing, that she was about to be surprised.
She got my ear in her mouth and tried to stick her tongue into it. I was afraid she'd bite me, so I pulled my head away. She wrapped her legs around me and at the same time pointed the head of my prick up her cunt. I pulled her hands away, caught her by the wrists, and pinned her down on the couch. As I thrust up with my hips she came down with her pelvis and I slid right home, all the way in to my balls. She tossed her head from side to side and wiggled her ass like I had stuck a hot rod up her. She stayed right on my cock like she was glued there, her ankles hooked behind my thighs.
I humped back, kept her wrists pinned to the couch. My pants were a tumbled mess around my knees. Her dress worked up under her tits. She didn't have much in the way of breasts, and I saw finally that she had a small frame too, and wasn't very tall. I figured she was about sixteen and hungry for love. Her belly was flat and firm. The muscles stretching from her ribs down to her crotch tightened as she drove her hips up at my crotch, trying to ride my prick as ar as she could.
In her as far as I could go, I pushed down with my ass to get in further, ground her butt down into the overstuffed cushions. Her legs flew from my thighs to circle my waist, her ankles crossing behind my back. Her thighs worked up and down as I worked my cock in and out of her cunt. As I pulled back she seemed to grab me and pull me in deeper. I wanted to keep driving into her, deeper, deeper.
The room was less than ordinary. I'd passed the house many times, going from one orchard to another, and it had always been an invisible part of the landscape to me. It was a transient worker's place and had been lived in by a succession of probably a hundred families. The furniture showed it: an overstuffed chair and the couch we were banging away on, an oil furnace in the middle of the room, and beyond a door was a kitchen table with an oilcloth cover.
The girl's face was pretty. I let go of her wrists. Leaning on my elbows, I took her head in my hands and kissed her on the mouth. My tongue slid into her, another little lesson from Bess. The girl liked that, sucked on my tongue like it was a lollipop. Her hands slid around my back.
She ruffled the hair on the back of my head, hesitated just a second over my shoulder blades and her hands began their slow, impossible-to-stop slide, finger by finger down my back. Catching the cheeks of my ass, she pulled my crotch deeper into her own. I ground myself into her as if I wanted to push right through the old couch and fuck her on the floorboards.
Then her fingers traced through the crack of my ass, past my ass-hole where they almost set me on fire. They crossed my hips and passed under her own ass to reach my balls. She cupped them in both hands. Two fingers barely touched what part of my shaft I couldn't get in her and as I pumped in and out of her again she pulled on my balls with part of her fingers, touched my shaft as it slid back and forth and that was that. It felt like she had forty fingers working down there instead of ten.
Come began to rise up out of me like it was coming from my toes. Spurt after spurt shot down into her body. Her stomach wiggled after it, squirmed up to me like it was gulping everything I had to offer and would take all the come I could find to shoot into her. She was like a suicide being pinioned with arrows. She loved it. Her legs spread even further apart and her hips rose further to me and I shot deeper into her than I ever had with anyone before, deep into dark places of need and might have fulfilled her for a few minutes.
I got out of the house, like I said, I think without saying anything except maybe 'Thanks". Or maybe she said it. I was surprised at just having been raped and couldn't think much, just grin at my outrageous luck to have been passing that old house at just the right time, just when that transient girl's libido was getting out of control. Also I couldn't believe my luck at having found her at home and alone; her brothers and sisters must all have been out working with their folks and she had played sick so she could ambush some passerby, since most of the transients who came around the valley to pick pears had flocks of kids that you couldn't count with a stick.
She had lain on the couch with her right foot on the floor, her other thrown up over the back of the couch. Both arms were stretched up over her head and she watched me pulling up my pants with a pleased, half-inviting smile on her lips. Her cunt and all the hair around it were soaking with her juices and with mine. If I hadn't just given it all the fucking' I could I'd have leaped right back in. Instead I got out of there. I had no intention of coming up against an irate father, and though most of those transient guys were an honest as the hard work they did, some of them could find you wherever you hid in the dark and slice through your backbone with a knife as skinny as a toothpick before you even knew you had been found. So up came my pants and out I went.
At home that night, as I sat in my room, I began to have second thoughts and wished I had stayed around to see if she had been willing, and had the time, to fuck again. After I had showered and cleaned up I was as ready to fuck again as if I hadn't had a piece in weeks. I persuaded myself that the girl stayed home by herself all day to keep house and fix the meals while the rest of the family worked. I decided she would still be there the next day.
After school, about the same time of day, I casually drove past the house. She was outside again, but she wasn't alone. My heart almost dropped through the floor of my Ford when I saw old Bumside's shiny new pickup truck parked as brave as brass beside the house, in almost the same place my Ford had been parked the day before. The girl was standing with old Burnside just off the porch, near one of the overgrown lilac bushes at the corner of the house.
Burnside recognized my car and waved as I passed. I waved back, gritting my teeth. The girl just looked at my car as if she'd never seen it or me before.
Well, I imagined Burnside just had some business with the girl about how to run the house or maybe the plumbing had plugged up. I figured he'd be off soon to check on his orchard crew or to change his sprinklers. I figured he'd go somewhere soon. I passed back by the house in about ten minutes and the pickup was still there, hadn't moved an inch. There was no sign of either Burnside or the girl.
I drifted back and forth for about a half hour. By the time I came by and found that the pickup was gone, it was too late for me to stop. It was almost quitting time and I still did not want to get caught in the saddle by some irate father.
I drove home slowly. My second piece of ass was as good as gone.
I was smart enough to know I couldn't really keep screwing this girl. She liked to fuck, that was for sure, but I thought it could develop into what Bess had been afraid of, that if I really started with her I might not be able to stop. I had had a taste of screwing, though the variety was not as broad as some of the things I had read about in sex books. I had had two pieces of ass, on two couches, and I was just smart enough to know that I had better be careful of who I started screwing steady because I was close to marriageable age and I might just wind up with my next piece of ass being what I would get for the rest of my life.
It didn't exactly scare me off girls for good, but it did make me approach them rather more seriously than necessary.