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Subject: {ASSM} First Time For Sister
Date: Sun, 27 Feb 2000 12:10:04 -0500
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<1st attachment, "First_Time_For_Sister" begin>
WARNING:
This story is fiction, and should be treated as such.
The following story is for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY,
and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an
adult, or reading sex stories upset you, do not read any further.
I am NOT the author. I don't have the talent to write these
stories. We can only be ... "TheEditor" and Associates.
First Time For Sister
By Kent Collins
Chapter 1
"It's nine o'clock; Billie-Ann!" Nora shouted from out back
of the tumbledown shack. Billie opened her pale-blue eyes,
stretched her long tanned legs in the bed and turned over with a
sleepy groan. Not far from her room she heard her stepmother
rattling a pail on the way out to feed the chickens. Feeding the
chickens was Billie's job, but she got out of it about half the
time by lazing the morning away in bed.
"Stir yourself a little, cain't ya?" Nora pleaded.
Billie-Ann pushed herself up and swung both feet to the
floor. She always slept naked, because it was hot in July in that
part of Missouri and because lately she'd grown to like the way it
felt. Sometimes in the night she liked to touch one of her
pubescent breasts or let her fingertips mingle in the sparse, fine
down that had begun to cover her pubic mound. She never did much
more than that ... just touch ... but it always gave her a warm,
tingly feeling to drift back to sleep with.
Her room was an old storage closet with a blanket hung across
the doorway to separate it from the rest of the house. Up against
one wall was her narrow cot and nearby an ancient dresser with a
cracked and mottled mirror. Billie-Ann had collected pieces of
broken glass from colored bottles she'd found, and arranged them
in her single small window to catch the morning sun. This morning
they looked especially pretty, she thought as she brushed her hand
through her sleep-tousled hair and watched the greens of patent
cough-syrup bottles and the Milk-of-Magnesia blues and the rich,
red-brown of beer bottle bottoms crawl across her sheets.
Billie stretched again and her body felt firmer than ever and
quiveringly fresh. Each day it was getting more and more that way
and Billie couldn't keep from exploring the ever-changing places
... massaging the soreness of her swelling titties and letting her
palms trace the inward curve of her waist and then down to flare
out ever so slightly where her hips had grown just a tiny bit
wider.
Somewhere in the house a screen door clapped shut and Billie
knew that Nora would be calling her again if she didn't get
dressed and at least make a pretense of doing something. But
there was time at least for her to bend over and watch the outline
of her breasts enlarge as the flesh filled them. A little thrill
went through her as she saw her pink nipples push out into firm
little stalks. Tenderly she cupped one and felt the friction of
her palm. At the same instant a tiny jolt of pleasure tickled
inside the closed lips of her vulva.
"Gee, that's kinda funny," she whispered, tilting her head in
puzzlement. She repeated the rubbing, then took one of the
enlarged little breast buttons between thumb and finger ...
rolling it softly back and forth. Almost immediately she felt her
crack go runny and hot and the beginnings of an itchy goodness
made her shift her hips on the bed.
Her stepmother banged her bucket against the side of the
house. "Goddamn it, girl. If you don't get out here ..."
"Coming, Nora ... Coming!"
Billie let go of her nipple and let her hands lie soft and
tan and pretty in her lap. She wished that Nora had told her more
about sex. Of course, she would never ask the grumpy old woman.
The only thing Billie-Ann had picked up for sure was that sex was
trouble from the beginning. Girls were supposed to stay as far
away from it as they could ... and that meant staying away from
boys and men.
Billie sighed and shifted her hips. The dainty place between
her legs felt oilier than ever and she knew she just had to take a
look.
With both slim feet flat on the floor, she parted her knees
and bent over until her hair hung like a tawny curtain almost to
the floor. Then she carefully placed a fingertip on each one of
her pouty little labia and pulled. With a wet, sexy sound, they
parted and a shiver of anticipation shook Billie's thin shoulders.
It always did that to her to look at the glistening, delicate
flesh of her secret place with its small inner lips and partly
hooded clit button. The pretty cleft looked just too velvety wet
to keep her hands off of.
Nora had always warned her about touching herself, but
somehow the temptation this morning was far too great. Carefully
holding herself open, she nudged one trembling fingertip into the
mushy slickness. The heat of her juice felt nice, but there was
nothing earthshaking about it.
Exploring further, she rubbed the finger up into the
underside opening of the little clitoral hood, and the bottoms of
her feet burned with a glow she'd never experienced in her life.
Panting with delight from her new find, she pushed again ... and
again. Wonderful shivers went through her back and made her
skinny toes spread against the worn hardwood floor.
"Wowee," she gasped, and kept rubbing, finding in a moment
that the lighter touches made her thrill more than the rougher
ones. No one had ever told her anything about this! Her girl
parts had grown glossy with her juices now and every time she let
her finger slip over the magic pinch of flesh she'd found, the
luscious feeling grew more intense.
Billie-Ann tried to remember what her friend Loreen had told
her about babies and fucking and how boys did it to girls, but it
had been more than a year since she'd seen any of her old friends
in town, and the information had never been very clear in the
first place.
All she knew for sure was that stallions and bucks and bulls
put their cocks inside mares and does and cows and left a little
animal to grow. She guessed that men did the same thing to girls
they caught out at night. That's what Nora had told her ... that
men hid out at night so they could drag young girls under a bush
and hurt them with their cocks.
Her clit lump seemed to be pulsing against her fingertip, and
Billie's heart was thumping hard against her ribs. She was sure
that this itchiness she'd caused with her finger had something to
do with sex. Her long-lashed eyelids fluttered and closed and she
breathed a deep, delicious sigh. The itch was getting too hard to
take and her finger had started to jerk and twitch against her
seeping parts. She felt like lying down and rubbing against
something or crying out some word ... a word like fuck!
"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!" she said softly. Billie knew it must
be a magic word, because it always made her feel better to say it.
And it made the itch burn like a diamond between her tan legs.
"If you don't get your butt outta bed and slop these hogs,
I'm gonna take a stick to ya!" Nora screamed from outside.
Billie sighed and lay back on the bed as she closed her
slender thighs. Then she pulled her hands up along her quavering
tummy and felt the slick, damp streaks cool there against her
skin.
"It's a good thing I quit," she said, pushing herself
unsteadily to her feet. Billie swayed across the room to the old
dresser and pulled a pair of clean nylon panties from amidst the
clutter of paperback books, movie magazines and garish bottles of
cheap perfume.
She pulled the skimpy things up over her coltish knees and
smooth thighs. "That could give a person a heart attack." She
knew, of course, that Nora would disapprove. When she'd been
young enough to get bathed by her stepmother, the stern old woman
had spanked Billie's wrists once when her curious child fingers
strayed to that curious place between her thighs. Nora had told
her that a girl just doesn't touch herself there, and had quickly
dripped a few suds over the childish mound.
Billie turned in front of the mirror and let her long, light-
brown hair flare out over her shoulders. It tickled her back
deliciously and she raised both arms, feeling her thin shoulder
blades move and stretch against the skin of her perfect little
back. She wanted to touch her breasts again but put her hands on
her hips instead and tried a pout or two until she was satisfied
with the sensuality of the reflection.
"Darn old freckles," she said, rubbing a finger across her
short turned-up nose. Then she pouted again and slowly let the
half-frown fade into an enticing smile. Billie thumbed one of the
movie magazines open and studied the photo of a blonde starlet to
make sure she was doing it right. Then with her eyes on herself
once more, she let her lips fall slightly apart and pushed her
tongue out sexily over each one until they were glossy and full-
looking.
The secret folds and knots of her cunt were still pulsing
crazily, but Billie tried to ignore the electric sensations, and
ruffled through a deep drawer for something to wear. She had
precious few clothes, and almost always she settled for a pair of
ragged, cut-off Levi's that fit low and snug on her hips and
clearly separated and defined the firm little cheeks of her ass.
Billie-Ann cinched them tight with a wide leather belt she'd made
herself from some worn-out mule harnesses. Finally she pulled on
an orange too-tight T-shirt, which didn't quite reach to the top
of her shorts and clung prettily to the soft-risen flesh of the
undersides of each small breast.
A pair of sandals were the only shoes Billie-Ann owned. Her
father had given them to her just before he'd disappeared. They'd
been a little too large for her then, but Billie had oiled them
carefully and kept them wrapped in an old pillowcase until her
thin feet had lengthened enough to fit snugly within the intermesh
of straps and buckles. She liked the way sandals made her feet
feel naked and free. They were the only things she had left that
her daddy had left her ... except for the large, bone-handled
hunting knife hidden in the bottom of another drawer.
It was right after her daddy had gone that Nora made Billie-
Ann quit school. Not that she made it the twenty miles into town
that often anyway. Lots of kids dropped out of school early in
that part of the country. Some to help with farming, some because
they flunked out and some like Billie-Ann, who lived so far away
from passable roads that it was just too much of a hassle.
Nora had told her that they just couldn't afford the extra
expense of sending her every day and though Billie-Ann went part-
time for a while, she fell so far behind in her studies that one
day she just never went back. She figured she wasn't missed much,
because a truant officer had never knocked on the door their
paintless, rust-streaked shack. But Billie had her paperback
books and magazines to read. She traded them with old Willy
Sudderland, the postman, and occasionally with a hired hand at
another farm, Jed Judson. She didn't like Jed much at all, but he
had a huge appetite for sexy detective stories and always gave
Billie the ones he'd finished.
Billie had learned to read well since quitting school.
Since she hardly strayed more than a mile or two from the
house and almost never went in to Dooberville, the nearest town,
reading was the only way she could find out about ... things. It
was true they still had electricity, but the only radio in the
house had been broken for months with no extra money to have it
fixed and not enough saved to buy another. Her books were her
life.
Billie-Ann finished fastening the buckles on her sandals and
stood up. The cover of one of her paperbacks caught her eye and
she picked it up. A woman in a sequined dress lay limp in the
arms of a blond-headed detective as he shot his way out of a
bedroom. It was one of Billie's favorite stories; she'd read it
three times. Like the other books, this one was all about men
after women or women after men, and Billie always searched every
sentence carefully for some hint as to what happened after the
hero and heroine relaxed in private somewhere. That was when the
words got tricky and things started being left out.
She tossed the book back down on her dresser and sighed,
remembering the sexy plot ... especially the part where the
muscled, tattooed man undressed the weak, innocent girl and
dragged her into bed. Then the story had gotten mysterious and
not very clear and Billie had guessed with a thrilling little
flutter in her throat that the couple was doing more than just
kissing. It was something like what Nora had warned her about ...
something like boys dragging young girls under bushes late at
night and hurting them with their cocks. Whatever did happen in
the books changed everything. Afterward the characters were
either very, very happy or very, very sad.
"Billie-Ann, if you don't get out here this very minute I'll
have some hide!"
Billie-Ann took a last look in the mirror, pushed her
curtain-door quickly aside and saw her stepmother in the yard
bending over the pail she was filling with feed. She could smell
the acrid sharpness of chicken shit that the sun was heating up in
the coop fifty yards away.
"Be there in a sec," she called, then slipped out into the
cool hall and padded quickly through the house and down the front
steps. She didn't have any intention of helping around the place
today. It was the only time during the week that she could meet
Jed Judson on his way to the farmers' co-op on the outskirts of
Dooberville and pick up a few new books. She always had to walk
three miles to the fork, but it was worth it, because Jed never
let her down. Sometimes he even waited for her there if she was
late. Besides the books, Billie enjoyed getting out of the hills-
-enjoyed the fifteen-mile drive and enjoyed sitting in the cab of
the truck and watching the men laugh and spit and push each other
around the dock of the co-op warehouse until it was time for them
to load the heavy feed sacks and fertilizer into their own trucks
and start back to their farms. It wasn't really much, but Billie-
Ann thought she'd go crazy if she couldn't do that one thing every
couple of weeks or so.
The house was almost out of sight behind her now, and as
Billie crossed the dirt ruts and cut into a stand of large
cottonwoods, she heard Nora's last call wavering faintly in the
breeze. She went deeper into the woods and skirted behind the
small parcel of land owned by the Allens, an old colored couple
who'd lived in the hills ever since she could remember.
Old Allen made a fair living off of his few acres and it was
talked around that his wife put up the best canned vegetables in
the county. They'd even sent their son Hanson away to the colored
college upstate, Billie-Ann remembered, and then he'd gone on east
to a bigger school. Even the white folks from those parts rarely,
if ever, managed something like that.
When she was close enough, Billie could see old Mrs. Allen
stooping in her garden, her huge sunhat flopping whenever she
jerked a weed free from the ground. Billie-Ann went on until she
found the familiar path that hooked and meandered through the
meadow behind the Allen farm and then dropped even deeper into the
forest, passing Basset's Pond and coming out finally near the road
again. It was the shortest way to the fork where she always met
Jed, but most of all she liked being alone in the trees. The sun
was always too hot for dirt roads that time of day and often she
had time to stop at the pond and wade a little before hurrying on
to the fork.
It was even nicer than usual in the woods that day. Billie
kicked aside overhanging weeds and daydreamed as she walked.
She'd forgotten just how close she was to Basset's Pond and was
only a few yards from the water's edge when she heard the
splashing.
Choking back a yelp of surprise, Billie sank quickly to her
knees behind the thick tangled growth that bordered the pool on
almost every side. There in the middle of the pond, knee deep in
water, was a tall, muscled black man ... without a single stitch
of clothing. He turned slowly then and Billie saw that his face
was young. Though she hadn't seen him for quite a long time she
was sure at once that it was the Allen boy. The one who'd been
away at college for four or five years.
"Gosh," she breathed, finally releasing the air she'd been
holding in her chest. The ripples radiated from the young man's
legs as he moved slowly in the pond. Billie remembered his name
was Hanson--Hanson Allen, but she wasn't studying his face any
longer. Her eyes seemed uncontrollably drawn to the long,
drooping brown snake that hung from his groin. It was the
strangest-looking thing she'd ever seen and so ... big. A shudder
of fear mixed with excitement made her heart pound. She tried to
imagine what Hanson would do with that thing after he dragged a
girl under a bush at night. It didn't really look dangerous,
though, and once when he bent over, she saw that the cock was soft
rather than hard ... soft and flexible-looking.
At that instant, Billie became acutely aware of her position
behind the bush ... peeking at a naked male. She blushed red and
clamped her eyes in shame. But she couldn't keep them shut. It
was the first time in her life she'd ever been able to see what a
boy was made like, and though Hanson was colored he was a male,
too--a real live male.
Then the fearful thought of what he might do to her if he
found her peeking filled Billie with a gut-rending terror. She
saw the huge muscled shoulders and broad chocolate-brown chest,
the powerful legs and narrow bottom. If Hanson pulled her under a
bush, she'd die. Even though Billie-Ann wasn't sure exactly what
would happen, she knew she'd die. Die of fright if nothing else.
But realizing all that, she parted the bushes and looked again.
Chapter 2
Hanson Allen cupped his brown hands into the water and raised
them high, letting the cool droplets trickle onto his head and
shoulders. Much as he was trying not to, he had started to think
of a certain Miss Pamela Whittier back in Boston. And thinking of
Pamela always gave him a huge hard-on.
"Dumb white cunt!" he said under his breath. But Pamela's
ivory legs and graceful hips came filtering into his mind as if he
were witched or maybe something worse. It had been two years
since the party in the village, where a white buddy had wanted to
lay a chick on him. A girl who wigged over black men, his friend
had said.
Hanson looked down at the mud he was stirring up with his
feet and noticed that his cock wasn't drooping any more, but
starting to swing upward a little, thickening near the head. The
foreskin had slipped back over his glans, too, as the heated blood
surged with every beat of his heart.
Hanson flexed his arms and yawned, trying to fool his body
into relaxing. But even though he wasn't going back to the city
... wasn't going to involve himself with Pamela Whittier any more,
he couldn't forget her that easily. With a curse he let his
breath out and let Pamela in. He could never forget the very
first time. Her tawny, shoulder-length hair and large, high
breasts. There had always been a kind of sexy invitation in the
way she walked ... either coming at you or going away. Pamela was
an exotic hybrid of a woman.
The party where they met had been going strong, but Pamela
insisted on a change of scene. It was winter in New York and the
night had been cold and damp. By the time they'd gotten a cab and
made it to Pamela's apartment, the tall girl was shivering against
him. Hanson could remember every detail and he was too far into
the reverie now to stop. He took himself back, back four years,
the smells, the tastes ... all the way back.
* * *
"Aren't you going to warm me up?" Pamela cooed. Hanson took
off his coat and came across the room. The rug was thick, the
tables low and expensively stylish. Pamela had already kicked off
her shoes and when he reached out for her fur wrap, she giggled
teasingly and let it fall behind on the floor. Then, keeping her
green eyes on his face, she pushed the thin straps of her white
satin dress down off her shoulders. Hanson watched her body
undulate gracefully, and the silky material fell lower, catching
for a tantalizing instant on the erect nipples of her breasts and
then puddling at her feet in one swishing rush. He stared amazed
at the dark curls of her pubic hair ... just over the place where
her slit began, a bright red ribbon was tied.
"I never wear panties," she simpered; "they bind me." Pamela
made the word sound obscene. "Do you like me?"
Hanson nodded in a daze. "Yeah, I like you."
"Would you mind, please, kissing my breasts? I'm simply
crazy about the way it feels!"
Obediently he cupped one of the firm orbs in his palm and
raised it to meet his descending mouth. At first Pamela stood,
hands on hips, but as he tongued the nipple stiff, she touched the
side of his face, then let her fingers mingle in the short, tight
curls at the nape of his neck.
"That's heavenly," she breathed; "bite me a little." Hanson
bit her and suddenly the thin fingers of her hand were digging at
his fly, unleashing his bound cock and stretching it out
sensuously. He felt his belt loosen and his pants fall and he
stepped out of them. Pamela's succulent white breast with its
dark nipple quivered between his teeth.
"Touch my cunt," she moaned, voice deeper than before, "put
your fingers up in me!"
Again Hanson did what she wanted, hooking one arm around the
small of Pamela's back, sliding his mouth up her neck. The girl
trembled in his arms, then pushed back from his embrace, leaning
precariously over the back of the couch they were standing by. He
watched in heated fascination as she arched even further away from
him, pressing her loins out teasingly. Pamela's hair splashed
over the white cushions, and her full breasts flattened some and
shifted higher on her chest as she bobbed crazily upside down.
When he put his hands on her wide, curving hips, she opened her
thighs in final invitation. Burning with wild lust, Hanson guided
the head of his cock between the girl's silken, slick pubes and
drove forward. Pamela's hands flopped loosely to the floor and
she bucked viciously against the back of the couch, making her
navel stretch into a tight oval. Then she hooked her legs around
Hanson's to keep from falling to the floor. Loins aching with
pleasure, he moved forward again, feeling the slippery membranes
of her tube caress and heat his cock skin.
"That's simply ... deviiiine!" Pamela gasped, starting to
move her pelvis in quick, sharp circles as Hanson went into her
full length. The long muscles of her belly strained and jerked as
she flopped like a fish backward against the sofa cushions. "Ohhh
... like that!"
Unbelievably, she was about to come. Hanson was always right
about those things and he was certain that Pamela's throes were
rushing upon her. Their organs made wet, slick, sucking sounds
and the tall girl's movements became more savage and convulsive.
Her rippling, squirming body was beginning to milk the come from
his own balls. Pamela's heels dug into the crack of his ass and
made an excruciating pressure on his prostate. He humped
violently, giving her the full benefit of his length until
suddenly she straightened ... came up from her upside-down flop on
the divan cushions and wrapped her arms around his neck. The
momentum sent them both stumbling back. Pamela's legs squeezed
his waist while her twisting, plunging ass sucked huge glops of
jizzum from his cock and she sank white teeth into his arm.
* * *
The rustle of leaves at the pond's edge brought Hanson
plummeting back to the present. He turned quickly toward the
sound, and his erection slapped heavily against his hipbone.
"Goddamn it to hell," he cursed, angry with himself for letting
the dream of Pamela enrapture him, angry with whoever had been
peeking ... if in reality it was somebody. Hanson squinted and
searched the weedy banks of the pool. He listened. The sound of
footsteps thumped in the stillness of the woods ... running
footsteps disappearing into the thickets and trees.
Forcing himself up out of the muddy bottom, Hanson lurched
toward the trees, where he'd draped his clothes, swearing
silently. "You is a jive-ass peeping fuckah!" he hollered into
the silent woods, then threw back his head and laughed. It made
him feel right and good to talk the way he'd talked all his life,
even though he could conjure up perfect East Coast English
whenever he wished ... English as good as Pamela Whittier's any
day. Fuck Pamela Whittier and her high-tone friends and her
fucking high-class apartment and the way she giggled when she
called him the "noble savage." That's what had finally gotten to
him. Pamela had started asking his closest friends over when he
was there and then suggesting games in the bedroom ... introducing
every rich young jet-setter she knew to the wonders of being
fucked by a ... nigger. Hanson gritted his teeth and spat into
the water as he pulled his shirt on. No, she'd never said the
word, but that's the way it was. Whenever he had wanted to
discuss a book with her or go to a play, Pamela had thought it
quaint. She preferred her own kind of evening's entertainment.
Hanson picked his jeans off the tree where he'd hung them and
struggled his wet legs in. Somehow rehashing the whole thing had
made him feel a little better. At least he'd had strength enough
not to let Pamela's image suck him into jacking his meat. The
idea of spraying the pond with his hot, stringy seed for some
reason caused him to laugh again; then he started up the path
toward his parents' house. "I ain't ever gonna think of Pamela
Whittier again," he swore to the trees around him. "Ever."
Lucas Allen was sitting on the front porch of his house when
he caught sight of his son coming out of the woods. Hanson
crossed the stone walk he'd help lay himself ten years before and
smiled up at his old man.
"Where's you been, Hanson?" Lucas asked. "It's almost eleven
o'clock."
"I been in the woods screwing a pretty white girl." Hanson
sat down in a chair and put his feet on the porch rail. "But I
decided I didn't want to mess with her no more."
The old man's eyes widened at this; then he narrowed them at
his son. "Will you just listen to that big-city talk!" He pulled
a crooked cigar from his shirt pocket and slapped his thigh. "My-
oh-my!"
Hanson grinned back. "It might be big-city talk, but I swear
to God them white girls like it back there." He leaned toward his
father and whispered the next words wickedly. "They just love
that black cock."
Lucas Allen had his cigar going now and snapped the top of
his lighter shut. "Way to stay out of trouble is to stay away
from white girls. They's trouble from the tip of their pink
little tits to the ends of their soft little toes."
Hanson smiled mightily at his father. "Sound like you's
talking from experience, old man."
Lucas blew gray smoke across the still air of the porch.
"Maybe. Maybe not. What I know, I know."
Hanson shook his head and sucked a tooth. "Man, you is about
as bad as some of them college professors. Cain't get the
motherfuckers to say nothin' for sure." He chuckled and spat.
"They just tell ya that this depends on that and this over here
might account for that thing over there, but only if it all works
together under certain circumstances ..." Hanson was off and
laughing again.
"Well, boy, that's what you went to school for. To learn to
talk people around until they's crooked from listening." Lucas
Allen smiled and nodded, happy with the point he'd gotten across.
"I figure that's the only way you can make a living nowadays
less'n you farm." Lucas looked sideways at his son. "But you
never took kindly to farming, Hanson, no need to tell you that."
For a while Hanson sat back and let the quiet settle between
them. It was nice jawing with his old man again. During the time
he'd been East it had been one of the things he'd missed. Finally
Lucas leaned forward and winked at his son.
"Tell me the truth now, Hanson. You wasn't really fucking a
little white girl down in them woods, was ya?"
Hanson fell back on the porch laughing till the tears came to
his eyes. Finally he was able to look at his father with a
straight face. "How 'bout lettin' me take the truck into town? I
ain't even had time to see how it's changed since I been back."
"Sure, son, sure," Lucas said, handing the keys across.
"Jest don't forget this ain't New Yawk."
Hanson started out to where the shiny old pickup was parked.
"That's one thing you don't have to remind me of," he said. "But
I'll sure keep it in mind."
The truck started immediately and Hanson headed it out of the
drive and down the road. He marveled at how his father had time
to keep something so old in such good shape. The old Ford hardly
even rattled and the engine was smooth and quick to respond. But
it was his father's nature ... everything orderly and productive
and quietly efficient. Hanson knew that that was the only reason
he'd been able to go back East to school.
A roadside weed slapped at the side mirror and Hanson edged
the truck back into the middle of the road. He didn't want to
stay around Dooberville, but he didn't want to go back East,
either. He'd applied for a teaching job in Colorado, but even if
it came through, he wasn't sure he wanted that.
"Don't want to do nothin' but mess around," he said aloud,
"and maybe see the country."
When he got to the fork, Hanson had to pull around another
pickup, and out of the corner of his eye he noticed that a small
white girl was just getting in the passenger side. But he was too
caught up in his own thoughts to take much notice. He got onto
the road to town and let the old Ford out a little, trying not to
let Pamela Whittier's face slip into his daydreams.
Chapter 3
"What nigger is that?" Jed Judson asked, squinting his eyes
at the shiny red pickup disappearing ahead of them up the dusty
road. "Looked to be Lucas Allen's truck, but it shore warn't him
drivin'"
Billie-Ann tried to keep her voice relaxed and casual-
sounding. "Probably it's Hanson. That's the Allen boy." As she
said it, she thought how funny it was to call Hanson a boy.
Standing in that pond he hadn't looked like any boy she'd ever
seen.
Jed spat out the window and got the truck into first gear.
"Shit, that's that uppity kid they sent to college a long time
ago, ain't it?"
Billie nodded, remembering how scared she'd been alone by the
edge of that pond--especially when Hanson's cock had started
growing right before her eyes. That's when she'd thought he was
going to find her for sure ... and drag her under the nearest
bush. That's when she'd run and never stopped till she was
halfway to the fork.
"How come you know so much about him anyway?" Jed nagged,
shifting into second.
"Chrissake, Jed," she said sharply, "you asked me who he was,
didn't ya?" If there was one person Billie-Ann wasn't afraid of it
was Jed Judson. Him, always dressed in bib overalls and wearing
that silly straw hat. Jed was as big as a bull and about as
strong but there was something weak and easy about him too. Young
as Billie was, Jed had never been able to get her goat and she
enjoyed reminding him of that fact.
"You don't have to go gettin' sassy," he snarled. The truck
rattled and lurched over a rough spot in the road.
Billie-Ann let him cool down awhile, then turned toward him
with the pouty smile she'd practiced just that morning in the
mirror. "Got any new books, Jed?"
"There's a good one in the glove compartment," he said,
grinning, happy that he owned something Billie wanted.
Billie dug the book out and saw that it was a science-fiction
novel. That was fine with her, especially if it had some sexy
parts in it, and most of them did these days.
"You through reading it?" she asked.
Jed nodded. "Sho, it's all yours."
Billie riffled the pages of the book, and a packet of
photographs held with a rubber band fell out in her lap. Jed
Judson chuckled like a moron and licked his lips.
"What're these?" she asked, holding them up. There was a
piece of cardboard over the first picture, so she couldn't see it.
Jed snuffed his nose and rubbed a big hand over the crotch of
his overalls. "Go ahead; jest take a look!"
At times like this there was something dumb about his eyes
that always bothered Billie. Not just because of their washed-out
color or shallow depth, but because sometimes she caught Jed
staring at her in a way that made him seem not really human at
all. She wondered lots of times what thoughts Jed had in his mind
that could make him look like that.
Innocently, she snapped the rubber band off and slipped the
first photo out from under the piece of cardboard.
"Oh, God!" she gasped and quickly covered the picture again.
She felt the red rushing to her cheeks and didn't know whether to
slap Jed Judson's giggling mouth, or what. Maybe it was Jed's
laughing that had her so mad anyway. The picture had been pretty
bad all right, but his stupid guffaws made it seem filthy. If
only he'd stop leering at her like a slobbering dog she might even
take another look. Billie knew she really wanted to, because the
picture had showed a man and a woman doing the very thing she was
dying to find out more about. She was getting lots closer to the
truth about so many things. It was exciting and scary all at the
same time, but she had to go ahead had to find out more about sex
one way or the other.
"Can I have these pictures, Jed?" she asked, surprised at how
quickly she'd come to a decision with herself.
Jed's laughter choked short when he saw that Billie meant
exactly what she'd said. "Well, hell, you ain't even looked at
but one of 'em." He pushed his mouth up in an ugly knot and stared
sullenly at the road. "Naw, them's mine," he said finally.
"Can I borrow 'em then?" Billie pleaded.
"I don't know. They cost me plenty."
Billie-Ann knew his weakness and knew how to play on it.
Twice in the past year he'd tried to kiss her and she had strongly
refused. She didn't plan to give in to him now, but there were
ways ...
"Please, Jed," she said, scooting over until her bare thigh
was nestled tight against his overalls. Then she slunk her
slender body against his side and wrapped a small hand over his
bare, sunburned arm.
Jed glanced from Billie-Ann to the road and back to her
again. "Maybe if ... Uh ..."
Billie figured that Jed was about to ask for a kiss, and
though she didn't like the thought of it she'd made up her mind to
allow him just one if it meant getting the pictures for a while.
"Well?" she asked, shrugging. "Can I borrow 'em or not?"
"If you let me have your panties!" Jed blurted. Billie
stared up at Jed's reddening face, but he kept his eyes on the
road, lips clamped tightly together.
"You mean ... the ones I've got on?"
He swallowed and twisted his hands on the steering wheel.
"Yeah."
It dawned on Billie that she'd known Jed a long time and had
never felt threatened much in his company. Maybe the reason had
been because he was kinda ... strange. But she hadn't been ready
for this.
"Now just where in heck do you think I'm gonna pull 'em off,
Jed!" The whole thing seemed pretty ridiculous, but Billie was a
bit curious as to Jed's reasons for wanting her sweaty underwear.
"I can stop by the woods on old Mister Thompson's land," he
said, still not looking at her. "You can go behind the trees and
I won't look ... promise."
There was an eager, almost frantic, look on Jed Judson's
face. It didn't frighten Billie-Ann, just set her to wondering
all the harder.
"And if I give them to you, I can have the pictures to keep?"
Jed thought a little on that one but finally gave a nod.
"Okay, I'll let you keep 'em if I get the panties."
It seemed crazy, but Billie couldn't figure how it would hurt
anything. Not just to give Jed Judson her panties. And besides,
she'd have the pictures to look at in private as long as she
wanted. Billie-Ann smiled to herself. In a way it was better
than having to kiss him.
When the thick, close-spaced trees of Mr. Thompson's woods
came into view up the road, Billie felt a tiny tug in her guts.
Jed pulled off the road, stopped the truck behind a huge thicket
of scrub oak and turned off the key.
"Now don't you get out of the truck," Billie warned him,
opening her door. "If I hear you coming, you can forget the whole
thing."
"I'll wait," he said, nodding as if he meant it.
Quickly Billie-Ann slipped into the trees and when she'd
found a shady place hidden from the road, undid her leather belt
and tugged off her Levi's shorts. Then listening again to make
sure Jed was still in the truck, she hooked her thumbs over the
elastic band of her nylon panties and skinned them down. The
crotchband clung for a moment to her juice-damp little cunny and
then came away with a sticky-wet sound. Billie knew she was moist
because of what she'd seen at Basset's Pond an hour before Jed had
met her at the fork; and the run through the woods had just made
her that much more soppy. Well, it couldn't be helped. Jed would
just have to be satisfied with her panties the way they were. She
slipped her thin ankles out of the filmy things and hung them on a
branch. For an instant she felt a wicked little thrill. Standing
there in the woods with only her T-shirt and sandals on was
naughty. Almost as naughty as peeking at Hanson Allen naked in
Basset's pond. Thinking of his lean, muscled body and the big
brown cock that had risen from his groin like an awakening cobra
made Billie want to touch her own body. Slowly she ran her hands
up the long, graceful lines of her thighs and then over her flat
tummy. "Ohhh, that's nice," she said to no one but the trees.
Billie wondered for a moment what it would make Hanson feel like
if he happened to come upon her naked. Then she remembered that
Jed was only a few yards off and the public road was up there,
too. Quickly she pulled her shorts back on, buttoned them up and
cinched her belt. Then she picked her sheer underwear off the
branch she'd hung them on and started out of the thicket. Jed
watched her as she came in sight of the truck.
"I really don't know what you want them for," she said,
sliding into the seat, "but here you go." Billie dropped the
satiny things into Jed's callused hands. Without so much as a
glance her way, he jerked his door open and got out.
"You wait here."
"But where are you going?" she asked.
"Never you mind. Just stay in the truck."
His eyes shot her a veiled threat and Billie nodded back and
shrugged. She didn't know what craziness Jed was up to now, but
she was really more interested in taking another quick look at her
new pictures. When Jed's back disappeared behind the overhanging
leaves, Billie picked up the packet of pictures from the seat and
undid the rubber band. The picture on top shocked her almost as
much as it had the first time she'd seen it. The red-haired woman
was spread backward over a low bed, her breasts flattened out a
little and her legs thrown wide apart. The man was on his knees
on the floor and twisted so that almost the whole length of his
cock could be seen. Billie gulped. Almost the whole length ...
because some of it had been shoved into the pretty redhead's body.
Billie held the picture closer and squinted. There seemed to be a
hole right in the middle of the woman's slit and that's where the
man's cock had pushed inside.
With a tight little gulp of air, Billie-Ann slipped that
photo to the back of the pile and stared shivering at the next
one. It was of the same two people, but this time the man was on
his back and the woman had wrapped her fingers around his long
shaft to hold it steady. Billie felt her cunt go slushy, feeling
half-naked without her soft panties to absorb some of the steamy
juice. The redhead was actually licking the man's cock with her
long pink tongue.
Another truck went by on the road nearby and Billie held her
breath until she heard it rattle away. She was just about to look
at the third picture when a strange sound came from the trees
where Jed had disappeared. It was a kind of moaning sound ...
more like an animal of some kind than a person. Billie tried to
imagine what it could be, and the more she wondered, the harder it
was to sit still.
The moan came again and she hid her pictures back in the book
and quietly pushed her door open. It was easy to tiptoe through
the weeds, but she had to be careful not to step on any dry twigs.
A bird flew up in front of her once and she stopped, but the
strange sound from the trees came again to her ears and she pushed
on. Carefully she slid under the thick branches of a bush and
peeked into the dark little grove under the trees where the noises
were coming from. Billie found herself behind and a little to one
side of Jed as he sat leaning against a tree trunk. The sight of
what he was doing sent an odd twinge of itchiness through the
nipples of Billie's titties where they rubbed on her orange shirt,
and she held her breath until she was sure Jed didn't know she was
there.
Jed was rubbing her panties against his face, snuffling and
kissing them like crazy. But it was what he was doing with his
other hand that made Billie's legs go all shaky and weak. The fly
of his overalls was open and his naked cock stuck out of his
clothes. With his free hand he was pumping the skin of it up and
down in a steady thumping rhythm. While Billie watched, Jed made
a moaning sound like she'd heard from the truck.
Ever so quietly she shifted to one side to see better. It
didn't take her any time to guess that what Jed was doing to
himself gave him a good feeling ... maybe like the strange feeling
Billie'd felt in her bedroom that very same morning when she'd
touched her clit.
She was close enough now to see the purple mushroom head of
his cock and the way it seemed to surge bigger every time he
brought his hand sharply up against the underside of the swollen
ridge. Billie's crotch was wetter than ever and she could feel
some of her gushing juice dampening her tight jean shorts. It was
hard to keep from panting. The look on Jed's face and the way he
was jerking and twitching seemed awfully naughty.
"Jesus!" he groaned, and his back slipped further down the
tree. Billie could see that he had begun to lick the narrow
crotchband of the panties he still clutched. Her panties.
Billie's feet tingled. Her bare bottom tingled, too, and the
throbbing little parts between her tightly clamped thighs were
begging to be scratched, but she gnawed her lower lip instead and
stayed quiet.
With another crazed groan, Jed shoved the blue nylon
underwear down and wrapped them frantically around his shaft.
Using both hands, he rubbed the silky things back and forth over
the taut skin of his cockhead, and Billie saw a tiny jewel-like
droplet form at the very tip of the bursting organ. It hung there
for an instant, then disappeared in a gushing fountain of thick
white juice that spewed in a long string up over the front of
Jed's overalls. His hand slowed a little, and for a second or two
nothing happened. Then another spurting jet burst from the head,
larger than the first. Amazed, Billie-Ann watched with wide eyes
as a puddle of the milky-looking fluid formed on the front of Jed
Judson's pants and dribbled off onto the ground. The panties
she'd given him were still wadded in his hands, soaked through
with the stuff that kept oozing out of the tiny slit at the end of
his cock.
Billie slipped silently out of the trees and stumbled back to
Jed's pickup. She wasn't sure she wanted to be with him any more
that day. It would be hard to know what to say after watching him
do ... that. And with her very own panties, too.
Still shaking from what she'd seen and felt inside, Billie
snatched the book Jed had given her, and making sure the pack of
photographs was back inside it, she ran into the woods on the
other side of the road. It would be easy to stay out of sight
until Jed had driven off, then walk back to the fork. Maybe
someone would give her a lift up into the hills if she was lucky.
But even walking all the way home was better than having to talk
to Jed any more that day. In a way, Billie knew she was hurt that
the awkward, unhandsome fellow had chosen to ... to handle himself
rather than kiss her. Not that she especially wanted to kiss him,
but more that she wanted someone to think her pretty enough to
kiss. Down deep Billie-Ann was disappointed that her nylon
panties seemed to be the only thing Jed was interested in.
After a while, she heard him calling for her from the truck,
but she stayed well out of sight. Then the pickup started and
rattled away down the road toward Dooberville. Billie came out
onto the gravel at the side of the road and started walking home,
her bare bottom rubbing in a nice kind of way against her tight
jean shorts.
"I hope Jed doesn't show anybody my panties," she said aloud.
"I'd just plain die if he did."
Chapter 4
In a half-hour Billie-Ann was almost back to the fork where
she could take the shortcut home through the woods. But before
she got to the place where the path began, she heard the sound of
an engine somewhere behind her. The thought that it might be Jed
coming after her made Billie lunge for the trees on the roadside.
But there wasn't time. A pickup truck cleared the top of the hill
and started down. Billie was relieved when she saw that it wasn't
Jed Judson after all, but the next moment her heart jumped and she
still wished she could disappear from sight, because Hanson Allen
was behind the wheel and it looked as if he were stopping.
"You want a lift?" he called, pulling up next to her in a
cloud of dust.
Not knowing whether to ignore him or run in the opposite
direction, Billie stood staring up into the handsome brown face,
wondering if Hanson had lost his mind. Young white girls just
didn't get into cars alone with young black men and he surely knew
this. She was angry and scared at the same time.
Hanson was still watching her, laughing quietly. "God
almighty Billie-Ann, I didn't remember that you were deaf and dumb
from when I was home last time."
He knew her name! Billie would never've thought that Hanson
remembered her at all. She'd just been nine ... maybe a little
more when he'd gone away to school.
"Guess I'd better just go on walking," she managed to say.
Glancing down at her skintight shorts and clinging T-shirt, Billie
suddenly felt awfully naked, especially with her panties missing
underneath. Of course Hanson couldn't know that, but ...
"You got a long walk ahead," Hanson said. He had his arms
folded on the edge of the window and an unlit match twitched in
the corner of his mouth. "Won't take me fifteen minutes to drop
you off."
Billie-Ann wished she could hide the book with the pack of
pictures inside, but there was nothing to do except press it
tighter against her tummy and hope that Hanson wouldn't find out
what she had. "Really, I ... I just as soon walk," she said,
smiling for the first time.
Hanson gave a knowing laugh. "Shit, Billie," he said. "You
act 'bout as bad as them struttin' small-town snobs down there in
Dooberville. I can hear their mamas tellin' 'em now." Hanson
wagged his head back and forth and put on a silky-sweet white
woman's way of speaking. "Now, honey, don't you ever get in a car
with no niggah ... you heah? Why, he might just rub black all
over you."
Billie wasn't sure what Hanson'd said that made her laugh,
but suddenly there she was, laughing fit to kill. It made her
remember him from before when he'd worked for her dad sometimes.
He'd always been kind of funny to listen to then.
"I didn't mean it like that," she said. "I just ..."
Hanson interrupted. "You just wanted to walk eight miles in
the blazing sun in the middle of a dirt road with them silly
little sandals on. Is that it?"
Billie knew that her argument was gone. She really didn't
have much of one anyway, and hearing Hanson kid around reminded
her that it wasn't like they were complete strangers. Their
families had lived up in the hills for years and not more than a
middlin' walk between them.
Hanson pushed the door open then as if he knew she was going
to get in and she did, clambering up beside him and pulling it
shut behind her. He started the old truck smoothly and let it
grind along in second gear so the bumps wouldn't jolt them around
too much.
"You like to read?" he asked, shooting a quick look at the
paperback.
Billie-Ann gave a short nod and kept staring straight ahead.
She was afraid to talk much now that they were sitting only a foot
or two apart. All she could think of was that morning when
Hanson'd been stripped down and shiny with water and she'd been
hypnotized by the way his cock had looked.
"I got some books you might dig," he went on. "Maybe we can
trade off some."
"Oh, I ain't got all that many," Billie said. She was just
dying to look at the crotch of Hanson's jeans. Would his cock be
pushing the material up in a great big swollen lump?
The truck swerved in some sand at the shoulder and Hanson
brought it back to the middle of the road. It was right then that
Billie-Ann let her eyes dart down to the place under Hanson's wide
black belt. No, his crotch seemed normal ... except maybe for the
swell that pushed down a little ways into one leg of his blue
jeans. That's where it was, she thought. Just resting down there
like a big old bull snake. Billie bit her lip hard and felt her
face go crimson. Sure as hell, Hanson had caught her looking!
Oh, God, she felt like ... like just disappearing down through the
floorboard or jumping out the window. And now he was probably
smiling. Or getting ready to laugh at such a silly little white
girl who couldn't keep her eyes off a black man's cock.
"Hey, you know you sure have got pretty since I been away,"
Hanson said.
The words shocked her out of her embarrassment ... shocked
her so much that she stared up at Hanson, hardly believing what
she'd heard. Colored boys just weren't supposed to talk to white
girls like that ... or at least she'd never known of it before.
"I know you're thinking it ain't my business to tell you
that," he said quickly, the faint smile still playing around his
lips. "But it seems crazy for me not to say true things just
because we's different colors, doesn't it now?" He gave a short
laugh and twitched the match in his teeth. "What do you want me
to tell you ... that you're ugly or something?"
Once again, Hanson had jabbed right through Billie's
indignation. She tried to hold on to her defenses for another
moment or two, but they dissolved and she found herself smiling.
"Thanks for saying so," she said. "For saying that I'm pretty."
The words had popped out before she'd had a chance to stop them.
"Look here," Hanson said after a while. "Any time you need a
ride into town, I won't mind taking you."
"Oh, I couldn't," Billie said quickly. "I just--"
Hanson waved his hand, nodding. "I know, I know. You don't
want to be seen riding with a black buck. But I could let you out
just before we got to the highway. Nobody'd know the difference
and you could thumb from there."
Billie felt immediately ashamed. Something about Hanson's
open, honest way of talking made her feel wicked and cheap and
ugly inside. All he wanted to do was he friendly.
"I didn't mean it ... quite like that," she said.
"Sure, you did, but that don't bother me none." He gave
another easy laugh. "I've driven white chicks all up and down the
East Coast, so just 'cause you might be a little funny in the head
from living back here in the hills I ain't gonna hold it against
you."
Billie was trying to imagine the white girls Hanson was
talking about. What kind of girls were they anyhow? And where
would Hanson be driving them?
Billie-Ann was almost getting up enough courage to ask Hanson
about the women he knew back East, but her house was already in
sight and Hanson was slowing down. She got out of the truck on
her side, but an emotion she wasn't used to made her stop. She
felt ... as if there were more to say.
"Thanks for the ride and all," she said, smiling at him
through her long lashes. "If I sounded ... mean or anything ..."
Hanson grinned and moved the match he was chewing to the
other side of his mouth. "Don't bother your head about it."
Leisurely, he took in the graceful lines of her childlike body,
and Billie could almost feel his eyes touching her every curve and
bump. "If you feel like trading some books sometime, I could meet
you down at Basset's Pond. You know where that is?"
Billie felt herself go red again and lowered her eyes.
"Yeah, I know." Then she walked quickly away from the truck and up
the rock walk that led to the front porch of the house.
In the front room, she slumped into a chair, still clutching
the paperback and feeling breathless for some reason. Her
stepmother's footsteps coming down the hall made her stiffen.
"What you been doin' out there with that nigger?" Nora asked.
"He gave me a ride home; that's all."
"And what happened to Jed?" Nora was standing in front of
her, gnarled hands on her heavy hips. "Ain't he supposed to be
your ride to the co-op and back on Saturdays?"
"Got tired of waiting for him," Billie lied. "I was walking
back and Hanson--"
"Oh, it's Hanson now, is it?" Her stepmother reached out and
grabbed her thin arm, fingers digging into the soft flesh until
Billie-Ann made a face from the pain. "This morning you leave
without doing nary a chore and now you come home sittin' up there
in a pickup cab with some uppity nigger boy."
"Nora, you're hurting my arm."
"I'll hurt more than that if I catch you messin' 'round like
that again." Nora shoved Billie back, making her fall half-across
the sofa. "We got troubles enough without the whole county
talkin' about how trashy you are. Now, get outta my sight. I
don't want to see you again till supper."
Chapter 5
As soon as Hanson Allen had watched Billie-Ann's slim little
bottom disappear through the door and into her house, he wheeled
the old pickup around and drove like crazy, cursing himself the
whole time. He went on past his father's house and took the
turnoff which wound five miles away from town toward the rich
delta land of the river.
"Damned white chick," he swore aloud, letting the truck go
fast enough to kick up a long rooster tail of dust behind him. He
knew how crazy it was to be talking to a white girl around these
parts the way he'd talked to Billie-Ann Wheeler. Giving her a
ride was bad enough, but then he had to go shooting off his mouth,
telling her how pretty she looked and asking her to meet him down
by Basset's Pond.
Hanson rubbed his hand over his forehead and wiped the sweat
on the leg of his jeans. He didn't really give all that much of a
damn about white chicks; it was just that this one seemed to
remind him again of ... No, that couldn't be his excuse any more.
Billie-Ann Wheeler didn't look or talk anything like Pamela
Whittier from Boston, Mass. Billie was prettier in her own
innocent kind of way.
"Damn it to hell," Hanson growled, remembering her tan,
coltish legs, sun-browned almost as dark as Hanson's own skin. He
smiled. At least he preferred his white girls tanned.
He looked out the window at a low-flying crop duster, but
Billie-Ann's pert profile drifted into his thoughts again: her
cute upturned nose, almost Negroid in its shortness. And the
freckles on her sunburned forehead. That wispy brown hair ...
Christ! how he wanted to run his fingers through it.
"And damn my black hide if she wasn't peeking at my cock!" He
laughed to hear the words echo in the truck cab. Hanson knew he
was good-looking. Many other girls, white and black, had chased
him even begged to share his bed.
"Charisma," Hanson said, pronouncing each syllable carefully.
Then he was off and laughing again. Before he'd gone another
mile, though, Billie's image was back to taunt him and he decided
it would be nice to undress her in his mind. He imagined her with
a hip cocked and a pretty leg extended while slowly he undid her
blouse and pulled it back over her thin shoulders. Hanson wasn't
sure what Billie's breasts really looked like, but he thought they
must be lovely. Probably about one-fourth the size of Pamela's
... hardly bigger than a mouthful. He daydreamed his mouth down
to one of Billie-Ann's titties and sucked the luscious-looking
little nipple between his teeth. Billie clutched his head in both
hands and pressed her face against the million tight curls of his
hair. He licked his way down her body and kissed her navel,
marveling at the shallowness of it on her flat tummy. Hanson knew
he was right about that, because Billie's T-shirt had hiked up
once while she was in the truck and he'd had a good look. Now he
was magically skimming her jean shorts down over narrow adolescent
hips. Her mound would be almost hairless, he thought. Just two
pretty little plump lips protecting the moistness inside. Hanson
pushed the fantasies away, too excited by them to stretch the
vision out any longer.
A stumbling cow, udder almost dragging the ground, stepped in
front of the truck some twenty yards away and Hanson hit the
brakes and pulled the wheel hard. The skidding sound of the
pickup shocked the dumb animal out of her cud-chewing trance and
she bolted back toward the ditch. The truck kicked gravel and
slid to a stop, missing the cow by only a foot or two.
Hanson sat there for a while as the insects clicked and
buzzed in the weeds near the roadside. He felt foolish for
letting himself get so carried away over a white girl who was
really no more than a child. The chances were small that he'd
ever get close enough to so much as even kiss Billie-Ann Wheeler,
much less take her clothes off. Billie was only thirteen. A
child. And a not very knowledgeable one at that. No telling what
she'd talk around if Hanson so much as patted her pretty little
bottom with his hand. And like his daddy had said, that added up
to trouble. Besides, there would be the problem of her boyishly
narrow hips. If by some chance he did seduce her, his cock would
probably split her in two like a ripe melon. Yeah, he had to
forget about something so silly as having Billie-Ann's body to
enjoy. He had to concentrate on more realistic possibilities.
Hanson crammed the truck into gear and started out again, heading
toward Elsie Shelton's, where he'd been going before the cow had
stopped him short.
The Sheltons lived in a one-time squatter's shack on twenty
acres of land bordering the river. Ever since Hanson could
remember, a black man could go to that place whenever he needed a
little something he couldn't get somewhere else. Elsie Shelton
was the mother of the brood and kept track of how much beer to buy
before a big weekend and how long the boys could stay alone in a
back room with any particular daughter. Daughters were all Elsie
Shelton had ... seven of them to be exact, and nobody could
remember that there'd ever been a man around the place.
When he bounced into the front yard, Hanson saw Elsie herself
leaning her bulk in the shady doorway of the paintless frame
house. A rubber-tire swing swayed on its rope under a big
cottonwood, but there didn't seem to be anyone else around.
"Why, Hanson," Elsie said, slapping her big hands together as
if she were singing at church. "I knew you the minute I saw that
truck ... God, ain't you growed!"
"Howya doin' Elsie?" Hanson put his arm around her fat
shoulders and gave her a hug. He'd had lots of crazy times at the
Shelton place. More good ones than bad.
"You get your sweet brown ass inside here where its cool, and
have a bottle of beer. It's on the house.
They walked together into the big front room. Hanson noticed
that Elsie had moved a table or two around and painted the walls,
but other than that, nothing had changed much. While she was
fishing a couple of beers out of the cooler, she pushed her cotton
dress up with the other hand and scratched a massive thigh.
"I been wonderin' what happened with you," Elsie went on.
"Thought maybe New York went and swollered you up." She turned,
grinning her big teeth at him while she popped the caps off with a
rusty opener and shoved a bottle across to him. Then she
collapsed heavily into a chair and put her elbows on the table.
"Now what I want to know ... is you smarter than when you left?"
Hanson laughed and slugged some of the beer. "A little
maybe," he said. "At least I know what a smart person's supposed
to act like."
Both of them laughed.
Elsie rocked back and forth, shaking her big head slowly from
side to side. A little droplet of sweat hung on her nose for a
minute, then fell onto her bosom. "I swear, Hanson, it's good to
see ya again."
"How's Janice?" he asked, surprised at his own eagerness.
Elsie Shelton rocked back and forth again, her eyes narrowing
down mischievously. "Always did take a likin' to Janice, didn't
ya?" Her face grew serious. "I hate to say it, Hanson, but Janice
is gone. She up and left for Memphis over a year ago." Elsie
slugged her beer hard. When she put it back on the table only
some foam was left. "I tried to get her to stay on, but she had
big-city ideas ... wanted to meet some fella up there." Elsie put
her palms down on the table and looked ceilingward. "Shitfire, I
know what happened! She's out on the streets with one pair of
rundown shoes and two pair of underwear while that fella is
shootin' pool and playin' the horses."
Hanson saw that talking about Janice was depressing Mrs.
Shelton, so he changed the subject. "Well, thank Jesus you got
more than one daughter, Elsie."
The big woman's face lit up with a smile again. She laid a
heavy hand on Hanson's knee and leaned close to whisper. "Lord,
you oughta see Alicia now, Hanson ... you wouldn't even know her;
that's a fact."
Hanson wrinkled his brow and tried to remember. "You mean
the little one? Hell, she was only nine or ten when I left to go
to college. That couldn't make her more than ..."
Elsie nodded. "She's fifteen come next Saturday. 'Member
how you used to give her piggyback rides all the way to the river
and back? God, she just worshipped you."
Hanson swallowed the rest of his beer and set the bottle on
the table. "You me ... you mean she's ... around today?"
Elsie Shelton smiled. "Sure ... if you want her, I can go
fetch her from the garden. I put her out there in my bonnet to
get them potato bugs all pulled off the plants."
"Fifteen years old," Hanson said under his breath. "Say,
Elsie, I think I could go another beer."
"Why, bless your soul. Sure you need another beer after
comin' all this way." Elsie fetched another cold bottle and shoved
it into his hand before turning toward the back door. "You just
rest here and drink that beer and I'll go fetch Alicia."
Hanson tried, but he couldn't possibly imagine how Alicia had
turned out after five years. She'd been so skinny and childlike
when he'd seen her last, always wearing a little print swimsuit--
usually without the top.
Alicia had always begged him to be her boy friend, even when
the girl knew that he was coming all the way out there to the
Shelton place to visit her older sisters. Hanson had kidded and
tickled her but never really entertained the thought--much anyway-
-that anything of a serious sexual nature could come about between
himself and a ten-year-old girl.
"Hi'ya, Hanson."
He turned to see Alicia standing behind him ... still skinny
but taller and ... different for sure. Her full lips had a more
mature and sensual curve to them now and her short nose had
lengthened some. Her breasts were just gentle curving swells on
her narrow chest ... only a little bigger than the ones Billie-Ann
Wheeler sported. But it was Alicia's ass that really made him
catch his breath. She had on a pair of skimpy short shorts and a
bikini top. He could see the beautiful outward curve from her
waist ... the perfect unbroken line of her hips ... not chunky or
square at all. Then below, where her crotch filled out the skimpy
material of the shorts ... an ass built for fucking.
Hanson swallowed and smiled and couldn't help staring at her
maturing thighs and plump mound again. She was a high school wet
dream for sure. And the pigtails she was wearing seemed to add to
the image rather than take away.
"You still wearing pigtails?" he laughed. "It'd be hard to
remember you without 'em."
Alicia pouted just a little and reached a hand toward her
hair. "You want I should undo 'em?"
"God, no!" Hanson said, putting out a hand. "Leave 'em just
like that."
Alicia folded her arms and tilted her face at him. It looked
sophisticated and little-girlish both at the same time. "Come
on," she said, voice almost a whisper, hand stretched out to take
his.
Hanson drained the rest of his beer and let her lead him into
a darker, cooler part of the house. Alicia's hand was dry and
tough from pulling weeds and he liked the way it rubbed against
his own skin.
"Been a long time, Hanson," she cooed in her soft, crooning
way. "'Member when you used to play with me like I'd never grow
up?"
"I remember. Just never thought ..."
Alicia closed a door behind them and made Hanson sit on the
narrow bed next to her. The burlap curtain on the window made the
small room seem like a cave.
"Well I thought about it," she whispered, looking hard into
Hanson's eyes. Alicia's thin hand was suddenly kneading his thigh
... slowly and professionally. Hanson wanted to ask her how many
men had ...
"Lay back now," she whispered.
Hanson did as Alicia said and immediately the thin,
curvaceous little angel was moving onto his chest, pushing her
legs between his and covering his chin and neck with hot, eager
kisses.
"God ... Alicia, you really have done some growing up."
Her lips slipped wetly over his then and Hanson sucked her
pink little tongue deep the way she seemed to want him to do. The
hard bone under her mound was pressed tight against the growing
lump of his own trapped cock as Alicia rocked back and forth
against it ... massaging it full of blood.
"Hanson," Alicia sighed, "Oh, baby, you feel awful big down
there." Her hands clutched and tickled and dove under his shirt,
rubbing his tiny male nipples ... touching the nape of his neck.
"How long you been doing this, Alicia?" Hanson asked her.
"You're the third guy," she said without breaking the rhythm
of her lovely attack. "Mama only started me last month."
Hanson felt strangely misplaced. Coming from the East had
been too sudden a change in life style to get used to so quickly.
Back there it'd been Cadillacs and late-night neons and beaches
and boats and high-fashion chicks. But outside the room he was
in, Hanson could hear chickens clucking and scratching in the
backyard. His nose was full of the heavy odor of magnolia
blossoms ... the salty country sweat of an adolescent black girl
as she fumbled at the buttons of his Levi's, giggling and winking
at him all the while.
"What's it like back East, honey?" Alicia cooed, as if she'd
been reading his mind.
"It's ... different."
He was on his back and Alicia had finally pulled all his
clothes off, making a little O with her mouth as his rigid shaft
slipped free. Then Hanson watched the lithe girl gracefully get
rid of her own things. When she stood in front of him wearing
only the bright ribbons at the ends of her braids, he knew he
wanted her even more than he'd first thought he would.
Alicia hovered over him on hands and knees, looking skinny
and desirable, her ass curving around behind her. It was so
beautifully shaped that Hanson wondered if maybe that wonderful
bottom was to serve no other purpose except love. Alicia slid
cool palms down his chest and finally grasped his hips. There was
just the trace of a mischievous smile on her young face, but
Hanson thought he could also see uncertainty behind it.
"You the real first grown man," she said in a low voice. "I
didn't know it would be so big!"
Alicia let her fingers trace the thickness and length of his
cock, and Hanson enjoyed the expression on her face as she felt
the heft of the meat.
"Who've you had before?" he asked.
She opened her eyes wide and looked up at the ceiling,
remembering. "Couple of kids. Junior high boys. One was white."
A smile spread over Alicia's brown face. "He darn near cried when
I sucked him a little."
Hanson laughed with her, marveling at her new sophistication.
"He was a nice kind of white boy," Alicia went on. Then she
looked again at Hanson's gently throbbing penis. "But nowhere
near as big as that!"
He was growing more and more excited from watching Alicia
pout and tease above him. His cock was fully engorged with blood,
the glans tight and shiny brown and Hanson wanted very much to
hide it out of sight in sweet Alicia's warm, wet flesh.
"What if you won't fit in me?" she whispered, bending close
enough to let the turgid little nipples of her breasts rake across
his chest.
"It'll fit, baby," he said back. "That sweet little ass of
yours is ripe for some real meat." Hanson felt strange talking to
Alicia like that when only a few years before he'd played with her
like a kid sister. But nobody stayed the same, he told himself.
Alicia sure hadn't.
Circling his strong arms around her back, Hanson forced her
elbows to bend and she crumpled and collapsed against his chest.
He felt the soft concave of her belly and the way her titties
flattened out over his skin. His cockhead bobbed eagerly in the
tight curly bush between her thighs, as if hunting for an
entrance.
"I sure do want you, Alicia," he breathed into the tiny
sworls of her brown ear. She was trembling against him ever so
slightly, and the feeling of it made Hanson's blood boil even
hotter with desire.
He caught her face between his hands and forced her lips down
again and again, sucking in the lovely young spit as if he were
dying of thirst.
"Goddamn, Hanson," Alicia finally got breath enough to say,
"you sure do kiss fine." She took a catchy little gasp of air.
"Mama tells me not to get too excited, 'cause I forget my
business, but it's hard to keep from it when you kiss me like
that."
Her pelvis was moving against him now and she arched her back
and rode down on the whole length of his cock. As her steamy
little slit parted with the pressure, Hanson felt his organ bathed
with Alicia's hot juices. Rolling her bottom steadily, she worked
all the way down to his ball sac, massaging the nymphescent oils
into his skin. It was a fantastic way to get greased up, he
thought, and when Alicia's firm little clitoris came in contact
with his glans again, he felt his back go tight with desire.
"I want you good and wet," Alicia sighed, "before you try to
get that big old thing up in me." She was breathing so raggedly
that Hanson could hardly make out the words.
Her pretty lips opened wide and she kissed him again, still
working more of her wetness into the thing she'd have to take
completely inside her before they were through. Hanson loved what
Alicia was doing, but he wanted more ... now. Cupping both hands
under the prancing little asscheeks, he forced her higher, then
pushed the knob of his cock up, dividing the sweet, seeping delta
of her loins. The tip slid over the finger of her clit, then gave
a wet thump as the ridged crown popped into the beginnings of her
still-immature vagina and stopped there ... too big to go further.
Alicia groaned and tossed her head on Hanson's broad
shoulder. "Ohhh, God, daddy!"
"You like it big, don't ya?"
Alicia didn't say anything. She just bumped and tossed her
pretty round bottom ... afraid to press back but enjoying it too
much to stop.
Hanson could tell that Alicia was ready for more, because the
jumping, bunching spasms of her little body hadn't paused once and
she steadily increased the pressure back against his shaft. He
could feel the ring of muscles spread, almost open, then tighten
down again. It would take only a quick lunge on his part to
skewer Alicia for keeps.
"I might split you like a grape, sweetheart," Hanson said,
patting a lovely soft shoulder.
"Oh, just' split me then! Do it, Hanson ... get it in!" Her
voice had a fatalistic sound.
"There's gonna be some stretching," he whispered, "so bite
your lip and hold on."
Lovely Alicia steadied herself and nodded quietly against his
cheek. Moving slowly so as not to frighten her, Hanson slipped
his hands up and got a good grip on the tops of her sharp
hipbones. Then, holding her down against the head of his cock, he
pulled his ass back and drove upward sharply.
A choked gasp rushed from Alicia's throat as four inches of
his thick penis rammed suddenly into her squirming, chocolate-
brown body, but after a moment or two Hanson felt her kiss him and
he knew it was going to be all right.
"Just rest a bit, little girl, till you get used to it."
"I don't want to get used to it, Hanson." Alicia rubbed the
bottom of a long foot up and down the side of his thigh. Then she
let both legs out long against his and hugged him around the
waist. Hanson liked the feel of her weight on him, and he felt
his cock slipping deeper every time she wiggled or moved.
"Let's see how much more you can take," he said.
"Hanson, I'll never be the same after this. I just know I
won't."
Alicia's mouth was wet against his neck and she'd tucked her
knees up next to his sides again. He felt her trembling but knew
she wasn't frightened enough to quit.
"Rock that pretty little ass of yours now," he told her, "and
I'll get deeper."
Obediently, Alicia started an excruciating motion with her
pelvis, and each time she lined up with him, Hanson was able to
gain another heavenly inch of her tunnel. Almost the entire
length of his cock was surrounded by warm, wet cunt flesh now, and
he could feel her loosening up further inside.
"Oh ... Ohhh, Hanson ... Ouch!"
"You're gonna make it just fine, baby."
"Jeeees ... wowwweeee!"
The pretty girl's braids flopped against his neck and she
tried to bite his chest, but only drooled instead. The deeper he
pushed into her the more Alicia seemed to wiggle, and her words
had turned to unintelligible mumbles and sighs. Most of the time
she just panted her dewy breath against his shoulder like a
trapped rabbit. Whenever Hanson strained up from the mattress,
filling her with even more of his cock, Alicia didn't breathe at
all but closed her eyes tight and stretched her head back until he
could see all the veins and sinews in her long, thin neck.
Finally he was sure that it was all the way in, and Alicia's
lovely hips began to grind his. Whenever she tucked her bottom
under and rocked her hips the soaked velvet membranes deep inside
shifted caressingly over the sensitive head of Hanson's cock. He
was glad he was on his back, because it made it a little easier to
hold back the scalding juices that kept threatening to spew right
up into Alicia's eager cunt. He thought maybe they'd better slow
down some ... enough to drag it out.
But Alicia was getting her second wind. She started a
movement that pulled her mound almost completely away from
Hanson's hot shaft and then plunged down on it again. Each time
his blood-filled glans hung glistening at the opening of her
vagina and the brown girl's ass tremblingly descended, a strange
look flashed in her eyes as the huge organ divided the softness
and pushed to the mouth of her womb.
The tight, wet walls of her love channel forced his cock skin
back, rubbing it hot and glowy with the friction. Hanson gritted
his teeth and held on.
"You like me to do that?" she asked.
"I can say I like that. Yes, I can say I do."
Alicia slipped her tongue between his lips. A faint tang of
cinnamon made him kiss her deeper and taste more. Then he bent
lower and sucked one of the brown little nipples between his
teeth, biting and licking it until the stalk grew even thicker.
"Hannnson ... Ohhh, that just tears me up!"
He knew it was time. Time to turn this sweet little kid over
and give her the best fucking she'd ever get. Because if he
didn't get to it soon, she'd have a bellyful of seed anyway.
Pinning her arms close to him, Hanson rolled her sideways on
the mattress and squirmed onto her firm young body. Alicia gave a
little cry of surprise, but he covered her mouth with his again
and choked it off ... biting her full brown lips until she
whimpered madly.
At first he fucked her with short little jabs ... digging to
the very end of her vagina. When this seemed to make Alicia go
crazy with wiggling, he teased her--pulling all the way out and
riding his burning tip up over her clitoris until the poor little
thing begged for him to shove her full once more.
It was obvious to Hanson that he couldn't last much longer,
but Alicia's symptoms were quickening, too. One long brown leg
folded gracefully behind his back and it was soon joined by the
other as she squirmed her ass frantically against the sheets. It
was as if Alicia were trying to get away and at the same time
didn't want to escape at all.
Hanson's cock filled and lengthened to the final limit of its
size while the girl under him frolicked and cried, thrusting her
mound up against him. Alicia's vagina seemed to undulate and
pulse around his tip ... nursing at the seed that was about to
boil over from its reservoirs. He'd held it long enough. It was
torture to put it off any longer.
With a sigh of relief, Hanson fucked Alicia's body with all
the energy he had left. He fucked her with loving violence and
felt the goodness as his tubes filled with cream. Then just as
the barbed end of his cock was at its deepest, the hot, milky
flood spewed from the tip and Hanson stabbed seed into Alicia's
buttery cunt.
"Hanson ... h-h-honey!" the girl choked, and he felt the
tight female convulsions rock her. Her arms shook and the long,
graceful muscles stood out in cords as she clung to him and tried
to crush out the fire that was ravaging her love flower. Hanson
could feel some of his jizz froth back along Alicia's vagina and
dribble onto the rumpled sheet beneath them. But just when the
pretty young nymph felt about to relax and loosen under his
weight, she sucked another lungful of air and dug her nails into
the flesh of his back.
"I think ... I can ... do it again!" she managed to say.
"Oh, please, Hanson ... do something ... or I'll die sure!"
Since he was quickly losing the ability to help, Hanson
reached his hand down to the joining of their bodies and thrust a
finger into the mushy love mess. The rubbery little finger of sex
flesh stood out from the depths of her slit, pulsing with trapped
blood.
Tenderly, Hanson rubbed and tickled her hard, throbbing clit
until once more Alicia was whining and pumping her cum-steaked
loins softly against his hand. He'd pulled back off of her a
little and as she squirmed to gain another ecstasy, Hanson
marveled at the wondrous way she moved. Yes, she was the same
little girl he'd once carried on his back. The same child who'd
clung to him giggling in glee and now clung to him in the throes
of sexual frenzy. But rather than feel guilty about what he was
doing, Hanson felt fortunate that he'd been given a chance to
enjoy such a delicious young berry ... right when she was ready
for plucking.
"You're gonna kill me!" Alicia breathed.
Gently, Hanson freed his wilting cock and slid down on the
bed, making sure to keep his fingers working in the girl's
blooming crevice. He wanted to watch her come.
Alicia's bottom was moving slower than it had when he'd had
his cock deep in her belly, and each time she rolled her hips, the
flower of her vulva blossomed even fuller, gushing more girl honey
over his fingers. Her back was pushed well down into the mattress
so she could thrust her mound up, but as she started to come,
Alicia clamped her firm thighs around Hanson's fist, pulled her
legs up tight and pressed her heels against the back of his hand.
At the same time she brought her shoulders off the mattress and
curved her body down around the center of exploding pleasure that
jolted through her spine and breasts and thighs.
It seemed to Hanson that she was caving in around his
tickling, scratching hand ... pressing it tighter against her
delicate parts. And in the sweet heat of her dripping little nest
he could feel each sharp, hot throb as Alicia came. Her eyes were
closed and her pink tongue lolled halfway out of her spit-damp
mouth. With each crest of pleasure, she twined warm fingers
around his hand and cooed the whimpering sounds of complete
surrender. Her body jerked then and with one final shudder of her
frail shoulders, Alicia fell backward on the bed and Hanson
carefully pulled his fingers from her frothy slit.
* * *
It was cool at the bar. Hanson had just poured his glass
full of beer and set the bottle down in front of him when Alicia
stumbled into the doorway, an enraptured look on her face. He
turned then and saw the slender brown legs ... the soft dark eyes
still bedroomy with promise.
Elsie was behind the bar washing glasses, and when she
noticed her daughter's face she chuckled softly and fished another
heavy mug from the suds.
"I bet you ain't even collected so much as fifty cents yet,
have you?" Elsie scolded.
Alicia lowered her face a little, still smiling. "Naw,
ma'am. I kinda fell asleep."
Elsie winked at Hanson, then poked her mouth out at her
daughter. "He mighta just walked outta here if he'd a mind to.
You lucky it's Hanson and not some hot-dog dude from Dooberville."
Again, Alicia looked down, nodding solemnly. "Yes'm." Then
she beamed a radiant look at Hanson and rubbed a palm over her
tingling breasts.
"But golly damn, he's the best-lookin', best-lovin' man I
ever saw and ..."
Elsie interrupted, "... and you just couldn't keep from
enjoying yourself. That right, girl?"
Alicia fumbled at the ribbon on one of her braids. It had
come untied, and some of her shiny black hair was escaping. "Yes,
ma'am, that's right."
Hanson gulped some beer and held out his hand to Alicia.
"She's a mighty fine girl, Elsie. Don't be too hard."
Alicia swayed shyly over to him and he tied the ribbon back.
It tickled Hanson the way she'd suddenly lost the sophistication
that she had tried to use on him in the bedroom. Now she was just
a little girl again ... a little girl who'd been reminded that a
fuck is first and always a fun thing to do. He looked up into her
dark eyes and found nothing but adoration.
"Seems as though your daughter has taken a liking to me,
Elsie," Hanson said.
"She could do worse." Elsie clinked the glasses together and
dried her hands on her apron. "Lots worse."
While Hanson sipped his beer, he felt the little lynx next to
him move her sinewy body closer. After a snuggle or two, Alicia
stretched her head up and kissed him longingly on the side of his
neck. Across the room Elsie looked up from the beer she was
drawing herself, and frowned.
"Now, listen here, Alicia. This man come all the way out
here lookin' fer a little relaxation." She shifted a heavy hip and
shook her finger at her young daughter. "You about to make him
think he done caught a wife."
"Ohhh, Mama," Alicia pouted, "I just want him to know ... I
like him."
"Sure," Elsie grumped, "but just don't go hangin' on him all
the time. Lotsa men don't like that after a tumble."
"It's okay, Elsie," Hanson said, grinning. He pulled some
change from his pocket and laid it on the table for the beer.
Then he pulled a flat-folded ten from his watch pocket and pushed
it secretively into Alicia's hand, gently folding her thin fingers
around it as he leaned close to whisper.
"I'll be out again sometime."
Alicia went suddenly gloomy. "When?"
Hanson framed her soft face with his hands and pressed a wet,
lingering kiss against her mouth. Then he stood up.
"Sometime soon."
* * *
While Hanson drove back along the narrow tree-lined road, He
patted out the rhythm of a Charlie Mingus tune he'd heard in a New
York club and tried to hum what he could remember of the bass
line. Elsie had made him take a cold six-pack when he left her
place and now he had a freshly opened bottle cradled between his
thighs. It felt cool and good there sweating against his jeans.
Hanson had been hoping that he could forget about pussy for a
day or two after balling so beautifully with Alicia. But already
he knew it was useless to try. It gave him a bitter kind of
amusement to realize that the problem wasn't with Pamela Whittier
any longer. Just in the short time he'd spent back in the hills,
Pamela's face had faded some in his mind and he was certain that
as the weeks rolled by, his Boston dilettante would become only a
dim flower in the jungle of his life. There was someone else now
... and unfortunately it wasn't Alicia Shelton. Hanson slugged at
the beer bottle and let the bubbles sting his throat. Billie-Ann
Wheeler had already wedged herself deep into his soul, and the
troubles he faced were innumerable if he wanted to do anything
about his desire for the girl. Already he'd recognized the
improbability of her being able to make it with him sexually.
Though her twitching little ass was gloriously wonderful to look
at, Hanson seriously doubted he could get so much as the head of
his cock into her cunt. And he still hadn't taken into account
the fact that Billie had grown up amidst the worst kind of bigotry
and ignorance.
"Shit!" he laughed, tipping his beer bottle up again. "Just
listen to me dream." Billie was bright enough ... but skittish.
Living in the hills of Missouri gave her a right to be, he
guessed. To even consider the possibility of getting close to her
supple body was the stupidest kind of dreaming. But then Hanson
knew he'd always been a little crazy about pussy.
"Yass, yass!" he roared against the wind that poured through
the vent window. "I'm a pussy fool and proud of it!"
At the fork he swung the truck right and started up the road
towards his folks' place. The relief he'd felt after leaving
Elsie's was long gone and the crotch of his blue jeans was
tightening steadily. What if Billie did come down to Basset's
Pond like he'd asked her to? He knew he was good when it came to
talking girls into bed. In his whole life Hanson hadn't met a
girl he couldn't finally soften up.
He rubbed his aching groin and finished his beer quickly
before he dared let his mind wander further. The only thing he
could do was play it all by ear. There was only a slim chance
anyway that Billie-Ann would actually consider meeting him alone
in the woods.
"I hope she doesn't," Hanson said aloud, only half meaning
it. "Keep me out of trouble that way."
Chapter 6
For a long time after her stepmother had bawled her out for
riding home with Hanson, Billie-Ann just sat on her bed, too angry
even to look at the dirty pictures she'd sneaked in. Billie had
never liked her stepmother much anyway and now she decided that
the haggy old woman was out to get her.
Of course she shouldn't have been with Hanson like that, but
he'd been nice enough and no harm had come of it. Nora's anger
made her want to rebel against the old woman's prejudices. Their
family had lived near Hanson's folks for years. It seemed wrong
somehow, Billie thought, for Nora to blame her for something as
innocent as getting a lift home.
And there was something else that made Billie feel that her
step-mother had been unfair to Hanson. Hanson Allen had actually
told her she was pretty! Oh, he was colored and all that, but he
did say it and nobody had told Billie anything so nice since her
daddy had left a long time before. She blushed from thinking
about it and only wished that Hanson hadn't caught her peeking at
the crotch of his jeans.
After a while, Billie felt better and went over to stand in
front of the cracked mirror on her dresser. She fluffed her long
hair out, then hooked it behind her ears, turning first one way
and then the other ... pleased with the way it looked. Is that
what Hanson had seen in her? The short turned-up nose and gay
blue eyes? The freckles and wide, full mouth all curvy at the
corners? Billie smiled into the mirror and her cheeks dimpled
cutely. Then she blushed red at how she was thinking about
Hanson, and quickly turned away.
When she saw the paperback Jed had loaned her she suddenly
remembered the colored photographs inside. With everything
happening the way it had that morning, she'd almost forgotten how
badly she'd wanted them. And they were hers to keep now. A
thrill rose in her chest as she sat on the edge of the mattress
and snapped the rubber band off.
The first photo caught her attention again; then she studied
the second, amazed at how brave the woman was to actually put her
mouth over a man's penis. The third one was new to her, though,
and when she took a look her head went all dizzy and light
feeling. The red-headed woman was lying backward across the bed
the way she'd been while the man had his thing in her, but this
time the man was on his knees between her legs.
Billie stared again, swallowing rapidly. He was holding the
lips of the woman's cunt apart and licking the shiny wet parts
with his tongue. A lot of strange things went through Billie-
Ann's mind, but there was one she kept coming back to. How did it
feel to the woman to have her cunt licked like that? This was
only one photo. Maybe the man was doing other things with his
tongue, too. Trembling a little, she looked at the two remaining
pictures. One showed the man standing up with his hands cupped
under the redhead's ass to hold her up. It looked as if his cock
were deep inside the woman, and her legs were wrapped behind the
small of his back.
Billie-Ann sighed and looked at the last photo. Another wave
of excitement coursed through her chest. The couple was hunkered
over each other, ass to head, the man with his face buried in the
redhead's crevice and his cock completely out of sight in her
mouth.
"Gosh!" she breathed flipping back to the picture showing the
girl getting her cunt licked. All of them were good, but that one
seemed to thrill her the most. Maybe because never in her life
had she imagined that a man might want to put his mouth down there
where a girl was so ... messy.
Billie hid the pictures safely away, then stretched out on
her bed. She knew that as soon as Nora wasn't lurking around,
she'd have to find some panties and put them on. It was lucky her
stepmother didn't know she'd given a pair away to Jed for the
pictures, or she'd have been tanned alive. It felt nice having
her shorts on without panties, though ... and kind of sexy, too.
The front screen door slammed and Billie went to her window
to peek out. Nora was striding out toward the woods with a couple
of buckets swinging at her sides. She'd be going to pick berries,
Billie knew, and it would be an hour before she got back.
Yawning lazily, she skinned out of her shorts and crossed to
the dresser to find a fresh pair of undies, but the reflection of
her nakedness stopped her. The hair on her mound wasn't anywhere
near as thick as the red curls of the woman in the pictures. In
fact, Billie could easily see the little crevice of her cunt
through the fine, light-colored fluff. Would a man really want to
kiss a girl there? she wondered. Maybe he had just done it for
the picture ... maybe no one acted like that in real life. But
the idea still tantalized and puzzled her.
Giving a little sigh Billie tossed a hip out at herself in
the mirror, then walked back to the bed twirling the fresh pair of
panties on one finger. Every added minute she was undressed it
became harder to pull the silken covering up over her pubes, until
finally she tossed the panties down on her bed and stretched out
bare-assed against the itchy wool of the blanket.
"Please, Jesus," she prayed, "I shouldn't do this ..." But it
was like stopping a broken dam with a cork. Already she could
feel the oily mess just inside the puffed little lips of her cunt,
and when finally she could bear the excitement of being nude no
longer, Billie plunged the fingers of one hand knuckle-deep in her
juice. In an instant she found the nubbin of her clit, and her
fingers filled it with new life. The hot little piece of flesh
rose from the gushiness and stiffened a little while Billie petted
herself and writhed. Her thoughts were on the red-haired woman,
thighs spread so the man could lick her.
With another breathy gasp, Billie skinned her T-shirt off and
reveled in the sensuous freedom of her skin. All her life,
nakedness had been its own kind of naughtiness, but she wondered
how something that Nora called naughty could feel so good. It was
wonderful not to have one single stitch of clothing on her body to
hide it. She could touch herself almost anywhere. She could feel
the bed against her naked back and buttocks ... and it felt nice!
Billie let her thighs fall further apart and worked up and
down the full length of her slit, searching for the hole like the
one the redhead had. It felt good to touch herself all along the
hot little divide, but the best was when she rubbed her clit
button. Last time she'd been afraid to go on ... especially after
the feeling had gotten so terribly intense. This time, though,
she made up her mind not to stop for anything.
"I don't care if I do die," she mumbled, "I'm gonna rub
myself until I cain't rub no more."
As she tickled herself, Billie found that it felt better if
she strained her legs ... tightening the muscles, then letting
them relax. Every time she did it a new wave of buzzy warmness
surged through her cunt and tummy. Sometimes her nipples tingled
without her even touching them at all. Already she'd gone further
than she ever had before and still the feelings just grew more
excruciatingly wonderful all the time. She made her fingers dance
faster yet and the sound of them slopping and slipping in the
wetness of her slit made Billie even more excited. A wave of some
new sensation was building through the muscles in her tummy ...
sending tiny ecstatic shocks through the backs of her legs.
"What is it?" she panted, stretching with the delicious
itchiness that was engulfing her. "What's happening to me?" And
with a suddenness that took her breath away, the beginning spasms
of Billie-Ann's very first orgasm cut through her body like a
sweet knife.
"Oh, gosh! I'm gonna die for sure this time!"
But after a few moments Billie knew she wasn't going to die,
and the lovely shoots of pleasure pounded one behind the other.
Her fingers kneaded frantically at the delicate parts between her
firm little labia while her quivering bottom tossed and bumped
against the sagging mattress. Then the throes began to dwindle
and eddy away into the secret places of her body as quickly as
they'd come. Finally Billie found that it even hurt to keep
rubbing herself, and she stopped.
A long time she just lay on the bed panting while she tried
to understand what had happened. The closest thing she could
think of was how Jed had pulled on himself until the stuff had
come out of his cock. But when Billie looked at her own slit,
there was only the warm, slick juice she always seeped when
excited ... just more of it this time. It felt nice just to bask
in the mellow after-feeling that seemed to well through her every
pore, but whenever she thought of Nora coming back to the house, a
tiny thorn of guilt began to prick her until at last Billie got up
from the bed and frowned. Without thinking about it one way or
the other, she put her fingers to her nose. The smell was kind of
good in a way, but it only reminded her of what she'd just done,
so she quickly poured a basin of water and washed her hands
carefully. Then she stretched back down on the bed to rest a
minute before dressing. In an instant she was asleep.
While she slept, Billie-Ann dreamed about the dark-haired man
in the photos she'd been looking at. She dreamed that he'd come
into her room one night and wanted to lick her cunt. In the
dream, Billie'd been too shy to refuse and when he pushed her down
on the bed and spread her legs she let him. The sensation was
lovely and she bucked and writhed under his wet, sucking caresses
until the sharpness of it woke her with a start. Billie felt
worn-out and the lips of her cunt were aching. At once she was
terrified that Nora might have come back, but the old alarm clock
on her dresser showed that only fifteen minutes had passed since
she'd nodded off. In the dream she'd enjoyed what the man had
done to her, but now that she was awake, Billie-Ann felt
embarrassed and a little ashamed to even think about it. But
wouldn't it be just about as strange to have a man put his stiff
cock up inside her and make all that thick, creamy stuff spurt
out? She shivered with the oddest kind of feeling. As naughty as
it sounded, she couldn't help being curious about how it might
feel.
Thinking about it made Billie jump up from the bed and dig
under the mattress until she had her precious photos in her hand
again. Then she got her hand mirror from a dresser drawer and put
it on the bed beside her. After a few minutes of carefully
studying the photos that showed the couple fucking, Billie put the
picture down, spread her thighs and positioned the mirror so she
could see her own soft vulva. Glancing from the photo to herself,
she touched each part lightly until she'd found the spot on
herself that seemed to match the place where the man's cock was
going inside the redhead. Billie probed and poked. There was a
little place where the flesh seemed bunched and sunken. It was
below her clitoris and there didn't seem to be any other place
quite like it. But it really wasn't a hole ... just the
beginnings of one. Again she studied the photo, then looked back
at the reflection of her cunt in the mirror. Billie was troubled
by the seeming shallowness of her own body. Maybe the hole was
just awfully small, she told herself ... maybe a man had to
stretch a girl when he went inside. The idea gave her the
shivers. It would really have to hurt to be stretched that much
bigger than she was right now. Billie considered this for a
moment or two, shrugged and put the mirror up. Then she hid her
pictures and dressed hurriedly. Nora just wouldn't understand if
she came back and found her undressed like that, and Billie had
experienced enough of her stepmother's wrath for one day.
Sleeping nude at night was okay, but if the cranky old woman found
her naked in the middle of the day, there'd be hell to pay.
Chapter 7
Billie woke up the next morning feeling strangely excited and
full of new energy. She jumped naked from the bed and splashed
cold water from the old porcelain basin onto her face. A few
droplets fell onto her breasts and when she wiped them off with a
towel, she realized that her tits were sore to the touch. Just
walking across the room made enough friction between her legs to
feel awfully good. Even something so ordinary as dressing made
her sigh: the way her dress felt going over her shoulders and
nipples and back, the way her panties snugged up against her hot
mound and clasped her trim little cheeks in tight nylon. Even the
way the elastic band cut into the flesh of her hips gave her a
rush.
"This is something!" she whispered to her image in the
mirror, "really something."
Then Billie-Ann remembered that it was a special morning. It
was her birthday and she was fourteen! Hurrying, Billie brushed
her hair down and finished dressing. Nora had breakfast ready
when she came bouncing into the kitchen and when she sat down she
found an envelope beside her plate. Inside was a soiled and
crumpled one-dollar bill.
"Thanks, Nora," Billie said, a little surprised that her
stepmother had even remembered the date.
Nora shot her a sharp glance that had just the trace of a
smile in it. "In my day we didn't get nothin' for a fourteenth
birthday, but nowadays kids expect so much."
Billie didn't think that a dollar was really much at all, but
she stuck it in the single pocket on the front of her smock-like
dress and started eating. It would have been nicer, she thought,
if Nora had kissed her instead. But lots of her birthdays had
passed without anyone remembering whether she was alive or dead.
Without being asked to, Billie gathered the eggs and slopped
the hogs. She was hoping that if she worked hard enough that
morning, Nora might stay off her back for a while ... or at least
long enough for Billie to wander alone in the woods. She was
starting to grow up and she wanted to be alone and think about so
many things that had to be thought about.
While she was feeding the chickens, Nora came up and stood
behind her, watching. "We might make something of this place,"
her stepmother said, "if you keep putting your heart in it like
that."
"I've already told Miz Crumpers that we can use her son
Lonnie for a few weeks." Nora nodded toward the overgrown garden
patch behind the chicken coop. "I'm gonna have him clean up them
weeds and put in some vegetables. It still ain't too late to have
enough for canning."
Billie knew Lonnie Crumpers from the time when she'd gone in
to town to school. He was ten or eleven by now and not a bad kid
that she could remember. "But the Crumpers live ten miles away,"
she said. "How will Lonnie get home at night?"
"He'll be staying here during the week," her stepmother told
her. "I promised Miz Crumpers his room and board and a dollar a
day. We can make him a pallet on the floor in your room."
"Aw, but Nora," Billie protested, "I don't have enough room
as it is and ..."
"Just hush now. He'll be staying in there on a pallet and
that's all there is to it. I won't have him in my room waking me
up all night." She picked up a pail and rattled it as if to end
the argument.
Billie finished the rest of the chores in sullen silence, and
when Nora had stretched out on the couch in the front room for her
midday nap, she skipped down the front steps and crossed the road
into the cool blue shadows of the woods. For the first time in
months, Billie-Ann felt really lonely. She never thought much
about not having any real friends her own age, but turning
fourteen was kind of special and with no one to share it with ...
sad. What made it even worse was Nora moving Lonnie Crumpers
right into her very own room. Billie bit her lower lip and kicked
at a mushroom. The domed white cap split into a dozen fragments
and scattered over the crushed leaves and twigs ahead of her.
Billie walked in no particular direction and she was only
partially aware that her footsteps were taking her in a roundabout
way toward Basset's Pond. Then, when she was near enough to make
out the shimmering reflection of the water, she realized at once
she'd come that way on purpose ... hoping to find Hanson there
again. The shock of comprehending this made her skin jump, and
she stopped. What business did a white girl have alone in the
woods with a colored boy? And Hanson was much older than she was.
The quiet rustle of leaves filled the air above her. Billie
scanned the banks of the pond and saw no one. In spite of her
shame for coming down to that spot, she felt a little twinge of
disappointment, and the loneliness she'd been fighting filled her
again.
"Kinda hot today, ain't it?" said someone behind her.
Billie whirled so fast that her long hair flung halfway
across her face. It was Hanson, sitting with his back against a
tree. A thicket had kept her from seeing him when she'd walked
by. Beside him was a stack of paperback books ... one was open in
his lap.
"I ... I ..." Billie stopped trying to speak and gulped
instead. Her mouth was dry and those peculiar little flutters
were in the top of her belly again.
Hanson smiled at her as if he'd guessed what was happening.
Then he waved a hand at the books beside him. "See here what I
brought ya?"
Billie knelt down beside him and looked at each book in the
stack. There were a couple of mysteries and a science fiction or
two and something real thick that looked like a novel about a man
with a lot of women. It was enough reading to last her quite a
while and the nicest birthday present she'd gotten all day ... the
nicest birthday present she'd gotten ever. Except maybe when her
dad had bought her the sandals.
"Thanks," Billie said. "They all look real good. I cain't
wait to start one."
"You really do like to read, don't you?" Hanson asked,
studying her.
Billie dropped her lashes and smiled. "It's ... all I have
to do, I guess." For an uncomfortable moment or two both of them
were silent. Billie knew that she should probably take the books
and go, but she couldn't bring herself to. She wanted to stay.
She couldn't stand for that lonely feeling to come back again to
haunt her ... not on her birthday. Maybe a few minutes longer
would be all right. "I'm fourteen today!" she said brightly,
trying to make conversation.
Hanson gave her another long, warm look. "Well then, I'm
glad I brought you somethin'. You can call those books your
present from me."
Billie nodded, smiling. "That's what I was thinking." She
hugged the books and looked around nervously. When she glanced
back at Hanson he was looking at her bare legs below the hem of
the short dress she had on. At the same time Billie studied his
smooth features and muscled shoulders. What was the danger Nora
always nagged about? What was the real reason a white girl wasn't
supposed to ride with a black boy? When Billie-Ann rode with Jed,
her stepmother never said a thing about it. Billie compared the
two men in her thoughts. Seeing Jed's cock had given her an
excited feeling all right, but it hadn't been anything like when
she'd stumbled upon Hanson naked in the pond. Maybe that was it.
Maybe black men had a way about them that made girls more sexy,
Billie thought. She looked at him again while he drew circles in
the dirt with a stick, and decided that there was something about
Hanson that made her feel light and fluttery in her chest. But
whatever might scare her about him took second place today. Alone
in the woods the two of them were cut off from the hates and
troubles of life outside and at least for a short time she could
enjoy another person's company.
"You're so quiet," Hanson said, breaking the silence.
"Just thinking."
"Let me guess." He puckered his mouth, then tilted his head
at her. "You're thinking here I am alone with this niggah in the
woods ... I wonder how long it'll be before he grabs me and ..."
Billie blushed and gave a shy little laugh. "I really wasn't
thinking that at all ..."
Hanson was laughing, too, but kept on. "... and then you're
thinking, boy, I sure am glad nobody can see us ..."
"I ... I don't think I care if anybody does," Billie said,
even though she knew that was only partly true.
"Well if you don't care, I sho do!" Hanson said, looking down
his nose at her. "I mean just what do you think all them niggahs
in Dooberville would say if they saw me with a white girl?"
Billie-Ann tried to hold it back, but then burst out in
shrieking giggles and it was plain that Hanson was enjoying her
amusement. "I don't know," she finally was able to say. "What
would they say if they saw us together?"
"Here's what they'd say." Hanson grinned mightily and
shouted, "Look out, boy, the sheriff's comin'!"
That set Billie off laughing again. It wasn't at all like
she might hurt Hanson's feelings--he seemed to want her to laugh,
and she understood how the way he poked fun at the ugly way some
things were made them seem silly and ridiculous. Billie looked at
Hanson like she'd never really seen him before.
"I never met a colored ..." She mumbled to a stop but then
went on, sure that he would forgive whatever she might say. "I
never met a colored person like you before."
Hanson slapped his thigh and looked slyly at her. "That's
what an education'll do for a black man."
"Gosh!" Billie felt almost as if Hanson were working a spell
on her or something. It was mostly the warm way she felt talking
with him. "I bet college is tough."
"Nothin' to it." He leaned back against the tree again and
gazed up into the thick leaves. "All you need is a little natural
rhythm and a good ear."
While Hanson chuckled quietly, Billie-Ann considered what he
had said. She was still wondering if she might have natural
rhythm when he put his book down and stood up.
"Let's take a swim and cool off ... what do you say?"
Billie felt herself stiffen. Already Hanson had grabbed the
bottom of his jersey with both hands and was skinning it up over
his head.
"Maybe I'd b-b-better not," she said. "I don't have anything
to wear."
Hanson hung the jersey on a tree branch and reached for the
buckle of his blue jeans. "Okay, but it's mighty hot to sit out
on the bank."
Billie-Ann's heart was in her throat. She didn't know
whether to run or turn her back or what. If Hanson let her see
his big brown cock close-up she might faint. But then she knew
she was letting her imagination run away with her. Of course,
Hanson wouldn't just strip down to the buff right in front of her
... it was silly to think he would. Just like she'd figured, he
left his underwear on, though there didn't seem to be much to
them. They were made of some blue satin mesh and hung low on
Hanson's hips. The holes in the loose-woven material were just
big enough for her to spy some brown skin underneath. Hanson
stretched, and the shelves of muscles in his chest and flat
stomach moved, completely capturing Billie's attention. He was
really built, she kept thinking. In fact, he was so powerful-
looking it made her feel helpless and she hugged her books tighter
against the front of her flimsy little dress. It would be better
if she went home ... right away. Before Hanson got the wrong
idea. It was then that Billie realized Hanson had been watching
her again, and she gave him a weak smile. His hip jutted out and
he was rubbing a hand slowly back and forth across his broad
chest.
"I been thinking about you and I got a theory."
Billie shrugged. "Oh?"
"The trouble with you is all your life people been telling
you never let a niggah boy touch you." He put his hands on his
hips and scratched one leg with the sole of his foot. "So now
you're just shivering and a-shaking, scared to death that we might
bump up against each other or that I might grab you real good and
give you a heart attack or something."
Billie-Ann tried hard to meet his eyes. "Maybe ..." She knew
he was right. Hanson always was.
"So why not let's get it over with?" He put out his hand,
palm up. "Here, give me your hand."
Billie stepped back another foot, eyes wide and mouth set
tight. "Cain't w-we wait?"
"Come on! Put your hand on mine. Ain't nothin' gonna rub
off."
Not to do it would have made her feel like a complete idiot,
so Billie extended her arm and laid a trembling hand in Hanson's.
He closed his fingers warmly over it but didn't try to pull her
closer.
"Relax, for Chrissake!" he ordered. "I ain't breakin' any
bones, am I?"
A laugh caught her unaware and she shook her head. "No.
'Course not." But her knee joints felt weak and loose.
"So see there," Hanson chuckled, releasing her fingers, "we
got it over with now, and you look as well off to me as you did a
minute or two ago." He put a finger to his chin and took in the
full length of her body. "Fact is, you might even look a little
healthier."
"You must think I'm awful stupid," Billie-Ann mumbled,
looking down at her feet.
"Naw." He put his hand out again and this time Billie gave
him hers without hesitation. "It's them old folks that are
stupid. My parents ain't no better'n yours. If my mother knew I
was down here alone in the woods with a white girl, she'd run me
out of the house with a shotgun."
Billie had just decided that she liked the way her hand felt
inside Hanson's ... liked the way his fingers wrapped clear over
hers, hiding them. This time when he released her, she let her
palm linger for a moment against his and then quickly took it
back.
"Well," he said, shrugging, "I'm gonna get wet. Why don't
you stick around for a while and we can talk some more?"
Billie-Ann watched him wade out until he was chest deep.
Then he pushed forward and swam a few strokes to an old
overhanging tree.
"Boy, that sure feels fine," he laughed, blowing water from
his mouth.
The water did look inviting. Maybe she could wade a little
anyway and cool off some. Quickly she kicked off her sandals and
gingerly stepped through the broken branches and rocks until she
felt the mossy bottom under her feet. The water lapped around her
ankles and she made her way out from the bank carefully until it
was up to her knees. Hanson hung from his elbow on the old
waterlogged tree, watching her and making little splashes with his
feet. Billie walked in circles, feeling the fine silt at the
bottom squish between her toes. She was glad she'd decided to get
a little wet. She was trying to stay away from what looked like
the deepest part of the pond when her foot touched a big flat
rock. Billie put her weight on it but immediately felt the rock
shift forward and then she was slipping down into the drop-off.
"Hey! Watch out!" Hanson yelled, but Billie barely heard his
words as the cold water closed over her head. The thin little
dress she was wearing ballooned out with trapped air and she felt
her bottom smack into the soft mud. Then she was paddling with
both arms for the surface. Two strong hands closed around her
tiny waist and her head broke water.
"Gosh!" she gasped, slinging her water-soaked hair from her
eyes.
"I didn't know whether you could swim or not," Hanson said.
He was standing very close.
"I can't," she said, smiling, "but I think I was just 'bout
to learn." Billie was glad Hanson was so tall. She still couldn't
touch bottom with her toes.
"There's a big old hole here. I didn't know it came this far
back or I would've warned you." His hands clasped her middle just
a little bit harder. "You better just hold around my neck and
I'll walk you out to the far bank. Mud's too slick to climb back
the way you came."
The lapping water tickled Billie-Ann's neck and she circled
her arms around Hanson's neck as he'd told her. Her teeth had
begun to chatter with the sudden shocking chill, but with her body
close to his chest, she could feel his warmth. The way her dress
was floating up in the water bothered Billie, but she couldn't do
anything about it. Hanson walked carefully, feeling his way along
the uneven bottom, but almost every step he took made their bare
legs brush together. The wetness of her panties made her feel as
if she didn't have any on at all, and every so often their bellies
touched, too. She felt his hipbones bumping hers, but the harder
she tried to keep it from happening, the more their bodies seemed
to stick together. Then Hanson's cheek was touching her own and
she felt his short round nose brush tenderly under her left ear
lobe. His arms seemed like strong bands of muscle around her
back; then their legs almost tangled and Hanson staggered and
stopped in the deepest part of the pond.
"God, you're a pretty girl, Billie-Ann," he whispered.
She felt his lips against her skin. Billie closed her eyes
and clung tight to Hanson Allen's strong neck. Things kept trying
to come into her mind ... bad, disturbing things that Nora had
hollered at her as long as she could remember and yet her pounding
senses threatened to push all that away. Hanson had her in his
arms and they were in water up to their necks and their bodies
felt delicious pressed together under the surface. Why did she
keep feeling it was so wrong ... wrong like touching herself ...
wrong like getting a ride from a colored boy she'd known all her
life? Hanson nuzzled her neck again and she felt his tongue dart
into the inner curls of one ear. Then his mouth was very close to
her own and when she tried to turn her head, strong hands framed
her face and held her. Full, brown lips brushed damply over hers
...
"No, Hanson ... nooo!" But even as she mumbled the words, his
tongue had forced her lips apart. Billie felt faint. A colored
boy ... a black ... a nigger was kissing her. He was licking her
lips and teeth and mouth, covering her with his spit.
"You're too pretty not to kiss," he told her, wetting the tip
of her nose and then each cheek in turn. Her dress was still
floating high in the water and Billie thought she could sense some
new hardness graze her bare tummy. The fronts of their thighs
touched. Billie sighed, confused with the lovely sensations that
she knew she shouldn't be enjoying. Finally she let her head flop
onto his shoulder while he devoured the soft skin of her neck.
Strong, warm fingers pushed up under the waist of her dress
and rubbed the narrow place between her sharp little shoulder
blades until Billie couldn't keep from moaning She was sure now
that the hardness she'd felt against her tummy was Hanson's huge
shaft jutting up from his groin but trapped against his stomach by
the thin mesh shorts he wore. She could feel it better now,
because he was pressing a hand against the small of her back,
making their bodies rub and touch and cling. It was much
different from daydreaming about sex. More like when she'd played
with her cunt ... it was that kind of feeling, but more intense.
Hanson guided her bottom near again and Billie gasped as her
hipbone raked over the hard length of his penis. Then he'd taken
her whole ear into his mouth, nibbling and pinching it with his
teeth. Billie-Ann gave a little whine, half-panic, half-
excitement, as Hanson covered her lips again, sucking her spit
into his mouth as if she were some exotic fruit he wanted to
munch. The rush of thrilling heat that swelled her loins made
Billie's mouth go soft, and she let him mash it open until even
their teeth scraped. Hanson was trying to make her move her ass
up and down and though she tried to resist him, the deliciousness
of being so close weakened her. For an instant she let the water
buoy her against his stiffness. Billie whimpered with the
feverish closeness of their parts, but a sliver of guilt worked
its way into her pleasure, and she arched her mound back away.
"It's not like we were really doing it," she whimpered
breathily against Hanson's neck, trying to free herself from
Nora's glowering face.
"What you say, baby?" Hanson whispered.
"Nothin'," she sighed, "nothin' at all."
Kissing her again, Hanson put both hands on the outward
swells of her asscheeks and forced her body against his with such
heated passion that it took Billie's breath away. Underwater, the
lips of her cunt were being forced apart and the sensitive insides
rubbed against the ridge of his cock ... her flesh hidden only by
a thin piece of nylon.
"Oh, God ... maybe we'd b-better quit."
But Hanson lurched in the water, and for a second Billie
thought they were going under. Frightened, she hooked her ankles
behind his long legs and clung to his neck all the tighter.
Hanson groaned. Their pelvises were so tightly pushed together
that she could feel him pumping himself up and down against the
bare skin of her tummy. But his mesh shorts ... they were pulled
down!
"Billie," he whispered hotly, "Oh, Billie, you're so damn
fine!"
Her mind reeled. She could clearly feel the outline of his
meat sinking into the soft flesh around her navel. His hands
clutched her bottom harder than ever, making her move in rhythmic
circles. Then a tiny hot jet of something spurted against her
belly. Again and again it spurted and each time she could feel
the warmth clearly touching her skin before the water washed it
away. When she looked down beside them, long milk-white tendrils
floated up in the pond and Billie was sure what had happened.
Everything seemed dreamy and unreal but they were moving
through the water again. Thankfully, Billie felt the cool shade
of the big tree that hung over the pond and she circled first one
hand and then the other around a mossy limb. Then Hanson was
helping her along it and up onto the grassy bank. Finally he
staggered out himself and collapsed beside her. She saw right
away that he'd jerked his mesh shorts up again, but they barely
covered the swollen, pulsing organ that had just burst its juices
against her stomach.
Neither of them spoke. Billie looked at Hanson's brown skin
... looked at his small, tight ears and woolly hair, the rounded
nose and thick lips. Hanson Allen seemed beautiful to her, but
she felt so terribly afraid and so awfully young beside him.
Nora's hateful warnings echoed in her ears and though she clasped
her wet hands tight against the sides of her head, she couldn't
shut them out. What would a colored boy think of any white girl
he could mess with like Hanson had messed with her? Maybe her
stepmother was right--maybe she was trashy.
Hanson rolled over and gave her a long, passionate look.
"Listen, Billie ..."
"I've got to git home," she said, standing up. Her nipples
were pointing straight out from the slight swells of her growing
titties, and the way her wet dress clung it wasn't much different
from being naked.
"Billie, I really care for you." Hanson's eyes bore into her
like coals in his dark face. "I want you to go with me to Elsie
Shelton's this Thursday night. Have a little beer. Dance some,
maybe."
Billie-Ann looked up at him knowing she couldn't have heard
right. No colored boy took a white girl out at night. And
especially not to Elsie Shelton's. But a weirder thought than
that was making her face go hot and red. In a way, she really
wanted to go.
"You know we cain't, Hanson." Billie tried to pull the wet
wrinkles out of her dress, but it only showed more of her lithe
little body.
"How tall are you anyway?" he asked. "'Bout five-foot-four,
I guess."
"You look like a pretty little colt of a girl. Them legs ...
So nice and ..."
"Look, I've got to go ..." Billie started around to the other
side of the pond. Hanson grabbed her and swung her around.
Billie felt his closeness again and realized why she was so lumpy
... her tight little cunt ached for more scratching.
"Nobody's gonna know if you go with me over to Elsie's."
"They'd know," she said, not trying to pull away from his
grip. She wasn't quite so afraid of him now, but the obvious fact
that Hanson could do about anything he pleased with her gave
Billie a chill.
"Onliest people that go to Elsie Shelton's is other niggahs,"
he laughed.
Billie wasn't used to the way he used that word to call his
own kind. It even made her wince sometimes to say it.
"I cain't go ... really!" Hanson let her pull away and she
walked to the tree where she'd left the books he'd given her.
Hanson's footsteps crunched close behind her.
"I want to see you again, Billie. I'll get my pa's pickup
Thursday. You wait behind the big elm by the road just down from
our place and I'll pick you up at eight."
Billie was filled with emotions she wasn't used to handling.
As soon as she had her sandals on, she clasped the paperbacks and
started back out through the woods. "Bye, Hanson ... thanks for
the nice books."
"You be there!" he called after. "You ain't had no fun till
you been to Elsie's."
All the way back home Billie felt strange things twisting and
tearing inside her. Of course she couldn't possible go with
Hanson anywhere. A lot of it was being afraid of going against
the rules, but even more than that was her not being able to trust
her own emotions. Billie's heart went crazy each time she thought
of the way he had clutched her to him in the pond. And yet though
Hanson did frighten her, she remembered happily what he'd said to
her just before she'd left: "I want to see you again, Billie."
That's what he'd said, she thought, smiling. God, a grown man
really wanted to see her again!
* * *
When Billie got home, her clothes were still wet. She tried
to let them dry in the sun before going inside, but finally gave
it up and decided she'd try to make it to her room without Nora
catching on. Mrs. Crumpers' car was parked in front and when
Billie went up the porch steps she heard the two women talking in
the kitchen. Lonnie was sitting quietly by his mother, and his
eyes met Billie's for an instant as she crept around the corner
and into her room. By the time she'd changed to some dry clothes,
Mrs. Crumpers was gone and she could already hear the boy chopping
at the stiff weeds in the garden patch out back. It was just like
Nora to put him to work on his first afternoon there, Billie
thought. And on such a hot day, too.
Billie stretched back on her cot and thought about the dirty
pictures Jed had given her, and Hanson Allen ... especially the
details of what had happened to her at Basset's Pond. She could
remember vividly how it had felt to have her warm young mound
pushed tight against Hanson's cock. When she thought of that same
big thing pressed deep into the soft flesh of her tummy, Billie
had to rub a hand over the magic place where his seed had gushed
out against her bare skin. Why did growing up have to happen so
fast? she wondered. It seemed that most of her life she'd been
bored, waiting for ... something. And now it was on her all at
once. Billie frowned and closed her eyes. There was a lot more
to being fourteen than she'd imagined. And every day would find
her just a little bit older--a little bit smarter about things.
With a sigh, she picked up one of the books Hanson had given her
and quickly lost herself in the words.
Chapter 8
All through supper that night, Lonnie kept giving Billie-Ann
funny, shy little smiles. Billie really didn't mind Lonnie being
around. What made her mad was having to share her small room with
him.
After supper Billie did the dishes and Lonnie dried. It was
half-past eight when Nora went to bed, and Billie decided she'd
read some more on the book she'd started. When she was stretched
out on her bed, puzzling over a long word, Lonnie came in and
started to undress. Nora had fixed him a thin, narrow pallet
against one wall, and though it didn't look very comfortable to
Billie, the boy didn't seem to mind.
"Hey, B-Billie-Ann," he stammered after taking' off his
shirt, "could you close your eyes till I'm under the sheets?"
Billie looked at him, then laughed. "Sure." It tickled her
that a ten-year-old didn't want her to see him naked. But when
she heard his belt buckle clank as he dropped his pants on the
floor, she turned her head mischievously and peeked across at
Lonnie. His back was to her, but as he bent down to pull back his
sheet, she saw the small white snake drooping from his crotch. It
was completely smooth, like a skinny tube. She recalled that Jed
Judson's had a ridge flaring out near the end where it was bigger.
Billie frowned and tried to remember more details. She couldn't
be sure about Hanson's cock. Even with it pushed up against her
that very afternoon, Billie had never really had the courage to
try to get a good look. And the first time, when she'd spied him
naked through the bushes, Hanson had been too far away. While
Lonnie scrambled to hide himself under the single worn sheet,
Billie turned to peek once again. Just before his body was
covered she got a good look at the soft little sac hanging
underneath, its thin skin outlined with the egg-shaped balls
inside. Feeling strangely warm, Billie returned to her book but
after half a page or so, she couldn't concentrate on the words.
"How come you sleep naked?" she asked Lonnie in a teasing
way.
"You peeked," he said, his voice a little angry. "Oh, don't
be mad." Billie shrugged. "I sleep that way, too." She reached up
and turned off the bedlight. Then, satisfied that the room was
dark enough, she wriggled out of her pants, panties and T-shirt
and pulled the sheet up.
For a while she thought of Hanson wanting her to go with him
to Elsie's. There was no way she could let herself do it ... even
if she did find the courage. Elsie Shelton's was known all over
the county, and though the law never stopped the goings-on, the
place was notorious. Billie'd heard that white folks were welcome
at Elsie's from time to time, but not many. Jed had told her once
that white musicians from the city often stopped there, and she
remembered his sneering laugh when he said those kind of whites
weren't really any different from niggers anyway. Of course,
Billie knew she'd be accepted if she went with Hanson, but the
idea of walking into a colored bar gave her the shudders.
The problems of even going anywhere with Hanson bothered
Billie and she tried to think only of how nice it had been in the
woods. She'd never really been hugged by any man before ... not
even her daddy. Hugging felt awful good. And it must have felt
good to Hanson, too ... good enough to make that white stuff come
out of his cock. Billie rubbed her thighs together and sighed.
Maybe Hanson had been pretending that he was putting his cock up
inside her body while he moved against her.
A sudden wind blew the curtains open and there was a rumble
of thunder. Then the wind rushed through the trees around the
house, and lightning made everything in the room brighter for an
instant. A thunderclap rumbled loud and near. Billie-Ann thought
she heard a whimper, but with the storm beginning outside she
wasn't sure. Then she heard it again ... louder. It was a
whimper. It was Lonnie.
Billie peered at the shadows across the room. "What's
wrong?"
"I'm scared," Lonnie quavered back.
"Just put your head under the pillow," she said, turning back
over. "It's nothing but a thunderstorm."
As she spoke, new rumblings filled the room and the wind tore
at the curtains. Billie sat up in bed to lower the window a
little and felt a shivering body sitting very close to her.
"Lonnie!" she scolded. "Now go back over there and go to
sleep. The thunder isn't going to hurt--"
"My sis lets me stay with her when it thunders," he said in a
shaking voice. The lightning lit up the room again, and she saw
the blond, curly locks hanging over his forehead. A tear poised
in the corner of each eye.
"Oh, my gosh!" She rumpled his head and put an arm around his
shoulders. It didn't seem strange for them both to be naked,
especially since Lonnie was just a scared little kid. A monstrous
bolt hit not far from the house and the thunder shook the walls of
Billie's tiny room.
"Shitaree!" Lonnie cried. "What are we gonna do!"
"I'm gonna lay down and try to go to sleep and you're gonna
go back to your--"
Lonnie's thin arms circled Billie's waist, and a tear-stained
cheek pressed against one of her naked titties.
"Okay, get under the sheets," she said, throwing back the
covers, "but as soon as it's over, you've got to scat. This bed
ain't big enough."
Billie hadn't thought that the small form of Lonnie Crumpers
beside her would be at all sexy. She just hadn't been thinking of
him in that way at all ... even when he moved his legs down next
to hers, put one of his freckled arms around her tummy and pressed
his cheek harder against a titty nipple. But right away the
fluttery little feelings began between the damp lips of her cunt,
and she noticed her breathing had changed. Everything that had
been happening over the past few days was teaching her something
new, and Lonnie's body so close and smooth and warm seemed to be
just one more lesson. Curious, Billie shifted slightly so that
her curves pressed closer to Lonnie's thin form. Just doing that
sent a jolt of pleasure through her back, ending with a new warm
tingle in her tight little rectum and a glow that spread through
her asscheeks. For some reason she felt like kissing Lonnie on
the forehead ... so she did. Lonnie hugged her a little tighter
and turned slightly on the narrow mattress. Suddenly she could
feel the exact shape of his pretty little white cock pushing
against the outside of her thigh. It didn't feel as soft as it
had looked to her before.
"You awake?" she whispered.
Lonnie nodded. The curiosity she'd been wrestling with all
through the past week welled up hot in her again. Maybe she could
find out a few things from Lonnie. He was so young and safe.
Yes, that was it. She felt much safer with Lonnie than with
Hanson.
"Do you get in bed with your sister much?"
"Sometimes," Lonnie said. He wiggled his face ever so
slightly and Billie felt his nose brush one of her tiny, formless
nipples. Right away the small sprout pushed up a little from the
softness, ... the way it had when her chest had rubbed against
Hanson's at the pond.
"Do you like to sleep next to a girl better than alone?"
"Lots better," Lonnie said, and she could feel him smile
against her skin.
"Why?"
"Gosh ... it just feels nicer, that's all." He shrugged in
the darkness and wiggled even closer against her. "You know, so
soft and warm and all."
"Yeah, I think I know," Billie whispered against his hair.
"Hey, could you scratch my back?" the boy asked.
Billie-Ann put an arm around his shoulders and started making
slow circles with her fingernails. She moved down to the small of
his back and then up again, feeling the little bumps of his ribs
as she scratched, and thinking how funny it was that touching
another person always did funny things to the toucher, too.
Billie shifted her hips and realized just how wet her secret place
was getting. She found herself wanting to kiss Lonnie again and
instead of thinking about the reasons why she shouldn't, she
simply pushed his curly hair back from his forehead and once more
pressed her lips against his brow. This time Lonnie raised his
cheek from her tittie and looked up. In the darkness Billie could
feel his warm breath and could see the soft outline of his chin.
She knew their mouths were very close together, and it seemed
natural to go ahead and do what she really wanted to do anyway.
After all, he was just a kid. Lonnie didn't move a muscle, and
Billie was even afraid he might be holding his breath as their
lips clung softly for a moment. She'd almost pulled away when
Lonnie made a tiny move in her direction, as if he wanted to kiss
some more. She kissed him longingly, even moving her wet mouth
the way Hanson had done to her. Then the boy touched her lips
with his tongue, and Billie broke it off with a murmur of
surprise.
"Gosh ... for a little kid you sure know how to kiss."
"My sis kisses me." Lonnie laid his face back against her
bare tittie.
Billie-Ann thought about Lonnie's sister. She didn't really
know her very well, because the girl had been two grades ahead of
Billie at school.
"Do you and your sister ... ever do anything else?" It was a
daring question, and she knew as soon as she'd asked it she'd gone
too far.
"I ... I better not tell. Gloria would be mad." Billie
didn't say anything for a while, afraid she might scare Lonnie
into silence. After a few moments she hugged him tight against
her again and when the thrilling little breathlessness had passed,
she put her mouth close to his ear.
"I wouldn't ever tell," she whispered. "Please tell me."
"Well ... we kiss a lot. I like that." He blinked his eyes,
and the long blond lashes tickled Billie-Ann's shoulder.
"Sometimes she touches me ..."
Billie could feel her body trembling all over and tried not
to let Lonnie know how excited his words had made her. It was
like finding out the most secret secrets of life, and she was
actually weak with anticipation of his next words. Another bolt
of lightning jabbed the night air outside, but the thunder that
followed was further away. A slow patter of rain had begun to wet
the windowpanes and the air was cool and fresh-smelling.
"Where ... does Gloria touch you?"
"Let me have your hand."
Billie-Ann was surprised that her promise not to tell had won
Lonnie over so completely, and her breath came shallow and weak as
his small hand guided her fingers down to his crotch. The thin,
stringy boy had to pull his body away from hers some, and then he
pushed her palm against his cock. Billie was only a little
surprised to find it rigid, and she immediately wrapped her
fingers snugly around the small warm hose.
"Gosh," Lonnie gasped, "that's just how Sis does it."
"It feels good?"
"Boy, does it ever!"
It was terribly exciting to feel the shape of Lonnie's little
penis. The storm outside blew further away and the clouds moved
to let the moon shine through. It had been too hot in the tiny
room to keep covered and now Billie-Ann could see clearly the
long, bony shape of Lonnie's body glued close to hers. Even
though he was shorter, they fit well together. She looked down at
the small, stiff cock in her hand and knew she had a perfect
chance to learn lots more.
"Can I look at you ... down there, Lonnie?"
"You mean my prick?"
"Uh-huh."
"I don't care. It feels good with you touching it." She
heard his swallow. "Could you keep touching it?"
"Okay."
Billie sat up cross-legged in the bed and Lonnie rolled over
on his back to let her have a better look. She ran her fingers up
and down the satiny white skin and with a cautious fingertip
touched the wrinkled little sac underneath. Lately Billie'd been
thinking a lot about boys and the way they were put together.
Before her daddy had left for good, they'd had more animals around
the place. She'd been too young then to pay attention, but now
she could faintly remember a time when her pa had said something
about deballing some calves. Billie'd asked her daddy why. He'd
given a funny laugh and told her it was so they wouldn't grow up
and give the cows more babies than he had money to feed. None of
it had made much sense to Billie at the time ... she hadn't even
known where the balls were on a bull calf until lots later. But
now as she felt Lonnie's spongy little eggs roll around inside
their sac she was sure she had it right for once. That's where
the baby-making stuff came from and when it got squirted into a
girl's body ... she was knocked up!
When Billie moved Lonnie's cock again, she realized that the
outer skin moved back and forth easily over the hard little shaft
underneath. As she moved the skin further and further back, she
discovered the shiny purple head she'd been looking for. Lonnie
had one, too; it was just hidden by the long covering of skin.
She pulled it back more, and the tip rode clear of the surrounding
flesh so she could see the graceful curve of the ridge behind.
Lonnie had started to squirm a little, and Billie figured that
playing around like that must feel as good to him as it did when
she rubbed her own slick parts. She felt nice and tingly sitting
cross-legged over Lonnie's body, her hair hanging down on each
side of her face as she bent closer to his pretty penis. It was
like a toy compared to Jed's or Hanson's. Lonnie gave a moan and
she saw his stomach jump.
"I'm sorry," she said, quickly pulling the white skin of his
tube back over the wet velvet head. "I didn't mean to hurt--"
"No ... it feels good," Lonnie managed to say. He wriggled a
little against the bed and pushed his buttocks up.
"You mean, to pull the skin back like that feels good?"
Billie-Ann asked, remembering now what she'd watched Jed Judson do
to himself.
"Ohhh, gosh, yes."
Billie tried moving the skin tube up and down a few times and
each time she did it, Lonnie's body gave a small jerk. There was
a wet, clicking sound every time the head was uncovered, and she
could smell the soft, musky aroma. The rigid little penis had
gotten even stiffer now and she could feel the way it curved back
into his body.
"Does your sister do this, too?" Billie asked, guessing the
answer before Lonnie could find breath enough to speak.
"Yeah ..."
She was sitting with a foot bent under her and felt her sex
honey wetting one ankle. Billie's hot little slit felt like it
needed scratching bad, and she knew that just handling Lonnie's
cock had put her into such a state.
"Do ... do you ever do anything to Gloria?" she asked.
"Oh, sure, I--" Lonnie was suddenly quiet.
"Come on," Billie whispered. "It's all right. I already
promised I'd never tell a soul."
"Well ..." Lonnie sounded uncertain. "She gets me to lie on
top of her and ... and ..."
Billie-Ann had her eyes closed ... letting the words do
terrible and exciting things to her fluttering heart. "And what?"
Billie stopped moving her hand on Lonnie's stiff little snake,
breathless for the boy's next secret.
"She kind of wiggles around until my prick gets all wet and
slippery from rubbing in her crack. Then she makes me push it
inside." The boy moved his hips slightly, as if he wanted Billie-
Ann to touch his cock some more. "And it makes her act real
funny."
It was hard for Billie to concentrate on what she was doing
to Lonnie and listen to the thrilling, burning description at the
same time, but she noticed that the boy's breathing was growing
faster and knew, too, that she had control of what was happening.
She looked at his thin young body in the moonlight again. A crazy
desire to stretch out on top of him made her almost choke with
passion.
"Do you like to do that with her?"
"Oh, sure. It feels all squishy and hot, but Gloria starts
hugging too hard after a while and trying to make me go inside
more ... but I can't." Lonnie frowned in the moonlit room.
"Tell me more, Lonnie," Billie begged. "Please tell me
more!"
"Well, I get to itching. It's like an itch on the end of my
thing and I like it at first but it gets so bad that it starts
hurting." He frowned again and chewed his lip. "That's when
Gloria always gets on top and pushes too hard. It always hurts
like hell."
"Gosh!" Billie sighed.
"Gloria says when I get older something will come out of my
prick when it itches like that and it'll feel good."
Billie felt as if she and Lonnie were somehow cut off from
the rest of the world. Alone in the soft-lit cubicle of her room,
she felt as isolated as she had at Basset's Pond. She hadn't
forgotten that Nora would think she was terribly wicked to be
doing what she was doing, but there were yet naughtier things on
Billie's mind ... things she knew she couldn't stop herself from
doing.
"Lonnie ... w-would you do me like you do to Gloria?"
He pushed himself up on his elbows and looked at her, a blond
curl almost hiding one eye. "Sure."
Awkwardly, Billie snuggled down on her back and just as
clumsily Lonnie managed to get on top of her. She could feel
every sinew in his body ... his small sharp bones knifed into her
and added to the feeling of being under a male for the first time
in her life. It didn't take Billie-Ann long to decide she liked
the way it felt. Lonnie's stiff cock brushed against the bony
hump of her lightly furred mound, and she felt him fumbling ...
trying to guide it lower. She sighed and opened her thighs
slightly, giddy with the knowledge of what she was doing. It was
funny how unthreatened she felt with Lonnie. It was like
practicing with a younger brother. Gently she put both arms over
the boy's back ... His hot breath burned against her neck as he
rubbed his cock along the long, slick delta of her cunt, searching
for a place to hide it.
"You're different than Gloria," Lonnie said finally. "I
can't find your hole."
Billie-Ann had been foolishly hoping that somehow everything
would just ... work. She tried moving her pelvis so that her wet
parts were angled upward. His sharp hardness rubbed back and
forth against her buttery softness and whenever the little penis
brushed over her clitoris, Billie had to shiver with the good
feeling, but Lonnie wasn't having any luck finding a way into the
secret fires of her body.
"I've never done it b-before," Billie said, remembering how a
day or two before she'd found the place she thought was her hole.
Lonnie raised his head and nodded. "Gloria was like that,
too, but she broke it with a hairbrush handle."
"Broke it?" Billie asked, feeling fear tighten the back of
her throat.
The blond boy looked impatient with her ignorance. "Broke
her cherry." He studied her face. "You really don't know much, do
you?"
To hear that from a ten-year-old made Billie-Ann feel like
going through the floor. "No I guess I don't."
Lonnie's face brightened and he poked the blond curl out of
his eye for the hundredth time. "That's okay. Gloria told me all
about everything."
Billie reddened a little at Lonnie's know-it-all tone. He
thought she must be lots dumber than she really was. "Well I know
where my hole is," she said. "If you can't find it."
Lonnie ignored her chastising tone. "It's where you bleed
from," he said.
This set Billie thinking and puzzling again. One day, only a
month or so before, she'd found a spot of blood on the crotchband
of her panties. How it had gotten there was a complete mystery to
her, and though she'd worried about it for a day or two it'd
finally been forgotten. If only there had been someone to ask or
talk with she would have, but all Billie could remember were a few
whispered conversations she'd overheard when she was going to
school at Dooberville. At the time the word "bleeding" hadn't
meant a thing to her except that the other girls seemed to think
it had a lot to do with growing up. Then once she'd heard one boy
snickering in the hall to another. "Old enough to bleed, old
enough to butcher," he'd said. Billie'd been sure he was talking
about the same thing, but still felt no closer to the truth. And
now Lonnie was talking about it as if it were ordinary, common
knowledge.
Billie decided to act as if she knew what he was talking
about. "When did your sis start bleeding?"
Lonnie shrugged. "Long time ago. When she was thirteen, I
think."
That was all it took to bring back another memory to Billie.
Sometime before her thirteenth birthday, Nora had given her a box
and said only, "You'll be needin' these before long." Billie had
opened the box and examined with curiosity the finely meshed
cotton pads inside. Finally she'd put the things away under her
bed and forgotten about them. Her stepmother had never brought up
the subject again. The whole silly misunderstanding was coming
clear to her now. Billie was certain she knew what the strange
pads were meant for.
Lonnie had been moving his body against her all this time,
still straining his stiff young shaft between the feverish lips of
her cunt. She slid her hand down between their bodies and guided
him into the soft depression below her clit.
"There it is," she told him. "Push right there." For an
instant, Billie was acutely aware of what was happening. She was
lying naked on the bed with a very young boy on top of her ... and
the two of them were trying to figure out a way to fuck. Of
course, Lonnie wasn't nearly as sexy as Hanson Allen, but to feel
his eager prodding as she ran her hands over his skinny bottom
made her sigh and cuddle his mouth against her neck, pretending.
"You sure are sloppy down there," he said.
Everything she'd seen in the naughty photos ... everything
she'd done with Hanson seemed to focus that moment on Lonnie's
cock and her cunt. If she could only get him inside her, she'd
know how it was supposed to feel and nobody would be able to say
she was so dumb any more. "Oh, can't you push harder!" she cried,
clutching a hand under Lonnie's buttocks and keeping his rigid
cock against her place with the other.
"It kind of hurts me," he grunted.
A tickle of pain shot through her slit and for an instant,
Billie almost pulled away. But instead, she bit down on her lower
lip and pulled Lonnie to her all the harder. Suddenly it was as
if a knife had been pushed against her underbody. "Ouch!"
"It's going in!" Lonnie squealed excitedly. "Really, Billie,
it is!"
With her hand, Billie could feel the sides of Lonnie's cock
slipping by ... slipping up into her body. But the sharp little
pain, which had turned to a heavy, dull ache, overshadowed any
other sensation. With trembling fingers, she traced the skin at
the base of his member, then touched the edges of her inner cunt.
Yes, he was inside her all right, but it was hard to tell much
difference.
"It feels better than when I do it to Gloria," Lonnie said
against the skin of her chest.
Billie-Ann arched her back and moved her bottom against the
sheets, hoping she might at least feel something, but the first
pain had numbed her and she was only aware of Lonnie's breathless
gasps as he jabbed and lunged against her. Then slowly she began
to sense something. Lonnie's hairless body was rubbing steadily
against her naked clit, and the friction had started her feet to
tingling between the toes. Then she was aware of a kind of
fullness ... yes, Billie was sure of it. Just barely, she could
feel something inside her where before there'd been nothing ...
something moving in and out ... it was Lonnie's small penis. She
tried to press his body closer, hoping that the rubbing would do
what she knew it could, but Lonnie was jumping around so much she
could hardly keep hold of him at all.
"Jesus!" he cried out, "it's itching something awful!"
Then he was jerking and crying and twisting around so fast
that Billie thought he might be having some kind of fit. Lonnie's
violent movements began to hurt her again, as if her cherry, or
whatever it was that got busted, hadn't been torn all the way when
he first went in. Lonnie's jerky wiggling stopped just as quickly
as it had started and he lay in Billie's arms panting like a
chased dog.
"Lonnie?" she asked, "what's wrong?"
When he didn't answer, a vague fear began to grow in Billie-
Ann's mind. She hadn't even thought that it would happen so fast
... that Lonnie might really ... "Answer me, Lonnie!"
"I think I m-made cream," he mumbled, keeping his face
pressed against her body so she couldn't look into his eyes.
"Oh, God, no!" she cried, pushing Lonnie to the side and
squirming to sit up. A horrible, sinking feeling made her
shoulders shake as Billie bent to look at herself in the dim light
from the moon. When she saw the dark patch on the sheets between
her thighs, she knew it was blood. Up inside her was maybe
something worse.
"Oh, God, Lonnie, why did you do it!" she groaned, not
knowing who else to blame.
"Huh?" he asked sleepily.
"I'm knocked up for sure! What'll I do with the baby?"
"You'd better be quiet or your ma's gonna hear." Lonnie had
pushed himself up, too, now and was sitting on the edge of the bed
watching Billie curiously.
"She ain't my ma!" Billie snapped, turning toward the moonlit
window again and spreading her cuntlips. It was hard to tell if
there was any cum there or not, because she was so soaked from
rubbing against Lonnie. "Are you sure something came out?"
"I'm not sure," he said, rubbing his shoulder. "It just
kinda felt like it."
Billie gave him a stern look. "You better get back to bed.
The storm's been over for a long time."
Lonnie jumped up obediently and went to where his pallet was.
Billie heard him slip under the covets, and after a while she lay
back down herself and pulled the sheet up. She was aching and
nervous from not having finished her excitement the way Lonnie
had. And besides that, her cunt hurt from being torn. An hour
passed, and she was still worrying about what she could do ...
whom she could talk to. When sleep finally came, Billie-Ann
dreamed that a policeman and the Baptist preacher made her walk up
and down the streets of Dooberville naked ... her belly swollen
out with Lonnie's child.
Billie-Ann awoke with a start. Nora's grasping, dirty
fingernails were digging into her arm and the old woman was
shaking her so hard that her brains jiggled.
"Look what you done to that sheet!" her stepmother yelled.
Dumb with sleep, Billie stared at the dark brown splotch
between her thighs. She'd meant to wake up early enough to hide
the soiled linen but now it was too late for that.
"Must be my t-time," she said, knowing it was a lie but
remembering that Nora had been expecting this event since Billie'd
been twelve.
The wrinkled old woman still frowned, but her voice wasn't
quite so harsh any more. "A girl orta know when she's gonna have
her monthlies. Here you've gone and stained a perfectly good
sheet."
After Nora had stripped it from the bed and left, Billie
dressed. When she walked into the kitchen, Lonnie looked down at
his bowl of oatmeal. All during breakfast neither of them spoke.
Billie couldn't bring herself to feel anger or sadness or anything
toward him. She was too scared and confused to think of anything
but her own fate. Once the dishes were washed and put away she
hurried to the outhouse so she could examine herself again. There
was no more blood ... no sign of anything else, either. Lonnie's
juice was probably up inside her belly somewhere, she thought,
making a baby. Billie remembered that most girls just went ahead
and had them. Even in the sixth grade she'd heard rumors of a
cheerleaders for Dooberville High getting in trouble. But that
was before she'd even known how such things really happened, and
she couldn't remember what the girl had done about her problem.
Before she'd stopped going to school, she'd heard it said that
babies could be stopped from getting born. Billie tried with all
her might to think of who might know about such things. She'd
been too ignorant at the time to make any sense from the
information, and now when she needed it ...
Finally Billie pulled her pants back up and stared at a
spider weaving its web in the slanting corner of the outhouse
roof. She felt like crying. There had to be someone who could
help her. And in that instant she knew there was. Maybe the only
person in the county who could help her Elsie Shelton.
"I'll go with Hanson, like he wants me to," she said aloud,
hoping the spoken words would shore up her courage. It would be
scary. And Elsie might not even want to speak to her once she was
there. She could only remember seeing the heavy black woman once.
Elsie had been at the bank in Dooberville and despite the
whispered laughs of the white men standing around outside, she'd
strutted by them like a queen instead of just another nigger.
Billie had wondered then who the woman could've been to act so
uppity. Yes, Elsie might laugh in her face. A silly white girl
with a baby in her guts and too stupid to know what to do about
it. God knows, Billie thought, that the whites had treated
colored folks bad enough in past years ... maybe some of it would
be coming back to her this time. But seeing Elsie was her last
and only hope and Billie knew it.
She finished buttoning her ragged jeans and pushed her way
out of the smelly crapper. A black buzzing horsefly swooped
inside just before the creaking wooden door clapped shut behind
her, but Billie was already halfway up the narrow weed-lined path.
It would be a week before Hanson would take her to Elsie Shelton's
place down in the delta and it would take her that long to get on
Nora's good side and to think of an excuse to be gone for a while
on Thursday night.
Without being asked to, Billie picked up a bucket and went to
the chicken coop to gather eggs.
Chapter 9
Hanson Allen put his feet up on the railing of the porch and
sipped the iced tea his mama had just handed him. He was
wondering whether or not he should bother borrowing his dad's
pickup to drive to Elsie Shelton's that night. What he really
wanted to do was see Billie-Ann Wheeler, but almost a week had
passed since he'd given her the books at Basset's Pond and there'd
been no sign of her either at the pond or walking the dusty roads.
It was a pretty sure bet she'd decided not to go with him to
Elsie's.
But ever since he'd grabbed her wet, clinging body in the
wood pond and then kissed and hugged and rubbed her until his
balls turned themselves inside out, Hanson had been bothered by
cold sweats, sometimes in the hottest part of the day. That very
morning, he'd had one hell of a dream and woke to find his cock
bubbling thick semen all over the sheets.
He took another mouthful of the tea and let the details of
the dream sift through his head. He'd run over them a dozen times
already but couldn't resist doing it just one more time. Dreams
were nice like that and Billie always acted differently in his
sleeping mind than she had at the pond. In the dream she'd pulled
off his skimpy mesh shorts after the two of them were on the bank
together. Then while Hanson stretched back against the mossy
ground, she'd steadied his huge cock and sucked it noisily into
her mouth. But the dream had gotten even better. When he'd been
close to coming Billie'd cupped her soft hands under his balls and
swathed the underside of his penis with the pointed tip of her
tongue, whimpering for him to fill her mouth until finally she
took his glans to the back of her throat, and greedily gulped the
scalding, spurting seed.
Hanson finished the tea with a groan and put the glass down.
The heat waves were rising from the gravel road in front of the
house while the trees roared with the intertwining rhythms of a
million insects. Hanson gave a humorless laugh. Hell, he'd
scared the shit out of that poor little white girl at Basset's
Pond. That was it all right ... she was just too damned white.
The past few days he'd been kicking himself for being so crazy in
the first place. Yeah, she was tan as a berry all right, but
whiter than white inside.
"I must've been asking for trouble," he said aloud in the
still air of the porch. "But goddamn it, she was a fine little
piece of tail." Hanson tightened his jaw until the muscles
twitched at his temples while he thought of Billie's lovely body.
The long, straight, flowing brown hair. The way it tumbled over
her shoulders like strands of silk. And those pretty, thin
shoulders and that narrow, sweet-smelling back. He laughed again,
realizing that he'd never really smelled it. It would smell good,
though, Hanson was sure. There was that orange T-shirt, too, that
made her titties look so small and soft ... tipped delicately with
tiny buttons of nipple flesh. Pink nipple flesh.
Angrily, he picked up the empty glass and sucked the last ice
cube into his mouth. "That's why I'm all fucked up right now!" he
muttered. "I can't get that little demon off my mind." And Hanson
was off again, thinking about when Billie'd slipped into the drop-
off at the pond. He'd seen the young girl's shape clearly after
she'd gotten wet. That cheap, short dress sticking to her limbs
like it'd been painted on. He knew from experience that his hands
could encircle her gorgeously tiny waist with ease and that her
boyish hips flared out only enough to say she was a girl. That
much innocent beauty alone was enough, but with Billie-Ann there
was yet more. Her thighs and legs had perfect proportions ...
long, lanky and tan. Every sinew, every bone and muscle seemed
sculpted for the perfectionist, and Hanson counted himself one.
Sweet calves swelling just a little. Her ankles fine and delicate
as her wrists. And to top it off, Billie's hands and feet had
that childish grace and slimness that made him almost have to turn
away when she moved them.
"Eatin' stuff for sho," he laughed, shoving at his swollen
crotch. There were indeed parts of Billie-Ann he had yet to see,
but if the rest of her was so good her sweet cunny was most likely
a masterpiece.
Hanson tried to stand up but groaned with the strangle hold
his pants had on his hardened cock. Cursing under his breath, he
limped to the porch rail, and, curling his fingers under it,
lifted mightily until the blood surged away from his cock and into
the bulging arm muscles that were now demanding it. In a few
seconds he felt his parts soften and relax and he strolled into
the house for another glass of tea.
Hell, he'd just have to go to Elsie's ... Billie or not. At
least he could get his ashes hauled by Alicia Shelton and stop
thinking about white meat for a while.
At five after eight, Hanson finished drying from his bath and
slipped into a pair of suede-leather pants, tight in the ass and
flaring slightly over his high boots.
"Shit," he laughed, slapping the back of one thigh, "I'll
show these country boys how to dress." Then he pulled on a
skintight jersey, tucked it in and cinched up the silver buckle of
his big brown belt.
"You be careful, son," his father called from his rocking
chair as Hanson walked down the front steps. "I hear Elsie's gets
to goin', even on a week night."
"Now how'd you know I'se goin' to Elsie's?" Hanson laughed,
jingling the ignition keys around his finger.
Mr. Allen chuckled and stuck a crooked cigar between his
teeth. "Now where else would a good-looking black boy be goin'
durin' the night in this county?"
"Yeah, you right, old man," Hanson said, crossing the yard.
Lucas Allen leaned his chair against the house, smoking. "I
reckon if you was in Kansas City or Memphis you'd be going
somewhere else, but 'round here you'll be going to Elsie's."
Still smiling, Hanson backed the truck out of the yard and
headed down the narrow, bumpy road towards the fork. It hadn't
even occurred to him that Billie-Ann might decide to go with him
to Elsie's, but as he passed the big tree where he'd told her to
meet him, Hanson glanced to the side anyway.
"Great God almighty!" he roared, locking up all four wheels
of the old truck ... holding the pedal down till it slid sideways
to a dusty stop. Out of the bushes flashed Billie's fantastic
long legs, her sandals slapping on her feet. Hanson saw that she
had on a dress almost as worn out as the one she'd worn at
Basset's Pond, and he couldn't help imagining her in something
expensive and chic.
"What made you change your mind?" he asked, leaning across to
pull the door handle. Billie gave him a thin smile and settled
into the seat.
"I just got to see somebody," she said.
"See somebody at Elsie's?" Hanson started the truck off
again. After a mile or two of silence, he swung left at the fork
and studied the girl's pretty profile. She wasn't in a mood to
talk, but he was more than a little intrigued about who she meant
to meet at the Shelton place. Maybe there was more going on than
he'd guessed.
"I didn't know you'd been out there before," Hanson said,
fishing.
"I haven't." Billie crossed her legs and he heard the way her
young skin sounded sliding over itself. "I want to talk to Elsie;
that's all."
Hanson drove on, fitting the pieces together until at last he
slapped the wheel and grinned across at his lovely little date.
"Don't tell me you went and got yourself knocked up! That's
the only reason I can figure anybody wanting to go to see Elsie
for." He watched Billie's childishly shaped face redden. "Here I
been thinking I didn't have any competition."
At those words, Billie turned toward him. "I don't want you
to think anything about what happened at the pond the other day,"
she said. "Just don't think it means anything."
Hanson gave her a sly smile. "Don't jive me, baby; you was
diggin' it almost as good as I was."
Billie kept her face straight ahead. They were on a long
straight piece of road now and the weeds slipped quickly by on
both sides of the truck. Hanson was caught up with Billie's nose
now. So turned up and short ... almost as short as Alicia's
brown, broad one.
"Well, I'm glad you came along with me anyway," he said.
The young girl glanced over and then her face broke into a
smile. Even as she looked out the window on her side, Hanson
could see the smile staying at the corners of her dainty curving
lips.
It was getting dark and when another pickup came towards them
out of the soft colors of country dusk, Billie ducked behind the
dashboard.
"Looks to be Jed Judson," Hanson said, squinting into the
side mirror at the disappearing truck. "That fellow that works
for Beauchamp." He narrowed his eyes at Billie as she climbed back
into the seat. "You know him?"
"I know him."
Then her eyes met his and she blushed again. "It's not what
you're thinkin'."
Hanson let her sit for a while without bothering. But in a
moment or two he was once more looking sideways at Billie's
loveliness. Her cheap, thin dress was pulled up far enough for
him to make out a nickel-sized vaccination scar on one thigh and
he only wished he could stop the truck and kiss it. That set him
to thinking about Jed and wondering how far Billie-Ann had gone
with him.
"Who you like to be with better?" Hanson asked angrily.
"That stupid ofay Jed or me?" It sounded dumb, but he hadn't been
able to stop himself.
He knew Billie had sensed her advantage. Lazily, she brushed
the long strands of gold-brown hair from her eyes and put a skinny
elbow out the window.
"You ... I guess." She gave him a hard look. "But that don't
mean--"
"Okay, okay," Hanson said, waving his hand. He knew he
should let it ride, but it was hard having Billie so close to him
and yet so far away at the same time.
"Say, how come you didn't try to get away the other day when
I had you in the pool?"
Billie looked as if she were interested in an insect stuck on
the windshield. "I couldn't. The water was too deep and--"
"But when I started kissing and hugging you, you just hugged
right back." Hanson gave her a smile. "Don't tell me you didn't."
For the first time since he'd picked her up Billie looked
cornered. "I ... Well, I ..."
"You were so tight against me that I had to peel you off when
we got out of the water." He slowed the truck down and pulled up
into the winding lane that led to Elsie Shelton's roadhouse. "You
liked the way it felt, didn't you?"
"I was afraid!" Billie started nibbling the nail of one
pretty finger.
"Afraid I'd let you go. Afraid I'd quit kissing that darling
little neck of yours." Hanson could see that his words were having
some effect. Billie's breasts were rising and falling in fast
rhythm and her ears flushed pink behind the fine curtain of her
hair.
"I don't think we'd better talk about it."
"And you kissed me, too." Hanson gave a tight laugh. "Now
surely you didn't forget all that tonguin' and bitin'."
Billie-Ann looked down at her clenched fists. "I shouldn't
have ..."
"Why not?" He touched one of her hands lightly and she didn't
pull away. "You kiss mighty fine for a white girl."
Elsie's big place loomed in front of them and Hanson pulled
up in the front yard and turned off the key. There were cars
parked everywhere, even an old motorcycle leaning against the side
of the house. He looked over at Billie to see her reaction to his
last words, but she was just rubbing circles with her finger on
the dusty dashboard.
When Hanson got out his side, she scooted across the seat and
jumped down. A jukebox was blaring through the open doorway of
the big front room as he started up the walk, Billie clasped one
of his arms with both hands.
"Don't l-leave me once we're inside." Her voice shook with
fear.
He grinned and put an arm around her narrow shoulders. "Now
that's the way I like you. Stickin' to me like paint!" Then they
were inside and the familiar smell of beer and smoke hit Hanson's
nostrils. As Billie-Ann passed the jukebox and her lithe form
reflected back the colored lights, the laughter and loud talking
dwindled suddenly away. A huge man at the bar broke the silence.
"Damn if it ain't Hanson. Come here and let me buy you a
beer!"
Hanson went over and slapped the man's palm. "Hey, Sam,
how's it go?" Then he lifted Billie onto a stool and stood close
... pressing his chest against her warm back. Elsie came over and
drew a couple of cold ones as the conversations behind them
started up again. Hanson could hear the giggling laughter of
Alicia and the throaty swearing of an older girl somewhere in the
big room.
Elsie put the sweating glasses on the bar and bobbed her head
at Billie-Ann. "She want anything?"
Hanson could see by the big woman's expression that she
wasn't overjoyed at having a young white girl in the place.
"What she wants, Elsie," Hanson said, leaning forward, "is to
talk with you."
Elsie Shelton looked at Billie so hard that the girl had to
turn her head.
"I'm busy now. Maybe later."
As Elsie shuffled off, Hanson whispered against Billie's soft
hair, "It's okay; we'll catch her later."
"Don't be shy to no alcohol," Sam said to Billie. "Here, you
can have mine and I'll get another one ..."
Seeing her confusion made Hanson grin, and he nodded at her
to go ahead and drink.
"Oh, no," Billie said, shaking her head. "I don't really
want--"
"Go ahead now," Sam insisted, pushing the glass in front of
her.
She picked the glass up and took a small sip. Then another
larger swallow. The third time she set the glass back on the bar
it was only half-full.
"Say now, that little gal can drink," Sam said, rocking on
his stool. "Mighty fine-lookin', too, Hanson."
"Jest don't you forget who she came in with," he told the big
man, poking his bottom lip out at him. When he looked back at
Billie she was biting hard on a fingernail.
"Hey, Elsie," he called, "let's have a couple more beers and
you might just as well pour some shots to go with 'em!" Now that
he had lovely Billie-Ann with him for the evening Hanson had
stumbled onto an idea. He wasn't especially proud of it, but it
was something anyway ... something that might move things along a
little faster. He and Sam were going to get Billie drunk.
Chapter 10
After her second beer Billie began to feel lots better. Sam,
the big man next to her, was awfully funny and the way he talked
made her giggle. Hanson tried to make her drink some whiskey from
a short glass, but she didn't like the way it tasted. Then he
poured it into her beer and it wasn't so bad that way. She was so
relaxed that she didn't even mind when Hanson left her to go play
something on the jukebox. But while he dropped coins and punched
buttons a slender, dark-brown girl curled close up beside him and
put a sensuous arm around his waist. Billie tried to figure out
what they were talking about, but couldn't.
"Why don't you finish this beer and I'll order you another
one?" Sam told her.
"Huh? Oh, sure ..." She gulped, almost choking on the cold,
bubbly stuff. Hanson was coming back ... but he had the brown
girl with him.
"This is Billie-Ann," he told the girl. "Billie, this is
Alicia."
Alicia gave Billie a look that made her feel strangely
uncomfortable. "I knew Hanson liked his girls young, but I didn't
know he liked 'em white," the black girl said.
Billie felt the booze she'd been drinking ... it made her
feel reckless. "I'm not really very white--look." And she held
out her tanned arm.
This made Alicia smile and gave Hanson a shove. "Where'd you
find her?"
"She's my cousin," Hanson said. He sipped his beer and
touched Billie lightly on one shoulder. She was glad he was so
close. A frown spread slowly across Alicia's face. Then her
hands flew out and caught at Billie's dress.
"I bet her tits are white ... and her cunt, too!"
Billie felt the girl's fingers tugging at the thin cotton
dress.
"Come on, let's see."
Hanson yanked the brown girl around. "I said leave her
alone!"
"Sho, Hanson, sho." When Alicia put her head close to
Hanson's so she could whisper, Billie pretended to be interested
in her beer glass, but she couldn't help overhear the girl's
sultry-sounding voice.
"Honey, you just gotta come back in a room with me. I'm
burning up for that big cock of yours! You hear me, Hanson?"
"Okay, Alicia," he said, patting her round bottom. "Now, go
on. I'll see you in a little bit."
As Alicia slinked back through the crowded tables, Billie
watched a man pull the giggling girl onto his lap and she turned
away with a shudder. Alicia Shelton scared her something awful.
She'd never known anybody like that in her whole life.
"Thanks for making her leave me alone," Billie said to
Hanson.
But he just gave a laugh and drained his beer glass. "Oh,
Alicia don't mean no harm. She could be friends with you if it
wasn't for me sittin' here."
"What do you mean?" She wrinkled up her nose at him.
"Why, she's just jealous," he laughed.
Sam was laughing at all this, and when Billie looked over at
him he shook his head and flashed his big gold tooth "Sho 'nough,
Alicia's had a burr in her pants ever since you came in. It's a
holy wonder she didn't strip you down for sure right here, just to
see what makes you tick."
Hanson started away from her towards the back of the room.
"Wait!" Billie slipped off the Stool and clutched his arm
frantically. "Don't leave me here!"
She saw Hanson flash Sam a grin and then cock his head at her
real sassy-like. "I'm going to pee, baby. If you want to come
hold it for me, well that's all right, too ..."
Billie wiggled back onto the stool and chewed her bottom lip.
A full shot glass of whiskey sat before her and without hesitating
she put it to her lips and swallowed. Everything was making her
so nervous and frightened.
"He'll be back in a little," Sam said. "And don't be
bothered, 'cause I ain't gonna let any of these young studs get to
messin' with you."
Elsie drifted up and set down two more beers. She gave Sam a
stern look. "Now, don't go lettin' this child get drunk, hear?"
The way the big woman said it tickled Billie for some reason
and she broke into a long fit of laughing. The room swirled
around her and she had to hold onto the edge of the bar to make
sure the stool stayed under her bottom. Elsie was staring at her.
"I'm just fine, Mrs. Shelton," she mumbled. Sam's face
grinned into hers. He was so close and black and shiny-looking.
Something. Something she wanted to talk to Elsie about. Billie
hiccuped and tasted bile in the back of her throat.
"Don't be drinking any more," Elsie ordered.
"... have to talk to you ..." Billie-Ann closed her eyes but
that made it worse.
"What do you want to talk to me about?"
"Baby ... how stop a baby ..." Something hit Billie hard on
the forehead and when she focused her eyes she saw that it was the
edge of the bar. She was lying across it.
Elsie's voice came to her through the fog. "Let's get her
out of here. Come on, Sam, give a hand."
Strong hands went under her shoulders and back. Music and
laughter rolled around her. They were laughing at her; Billie
knew they were ... laughing. Then she was in a small room and
felt a thin mattress under her back. A door closed and the
laughing and music were only a muffled rush of sound now. Billie
wondered what had happened to Hanson. A big warm hand touched her
thigh and rubbed her there.
"Get yo' hands off, Sam!" Elsie bellowed. "Go on back out
now."
The door opened and closed. Billie tried to see, but her
eyes wouldn't behave. "Everything's spinning."
Elsie poured water from a pitcher and Billie-Ann felt a cold
rag against her forehead. "You was drinking that booze too fast.
If I'da knowed you didn't know how, I'da stopped the whole thing."
She pushed her face close enough so that Billie could see her
wrinkled features. "Why you come here anyway? What you want from
me?"
"I think I'm ... pregnant. I gotta know for sure."
A breeze from outside blew into the room and the fresh air
made Billie feel a little better. Elsie wrung the rag out once
more and came back to put it on her head.
"What makes you think you'se pregnant?"
"A boy I know ... We ... He ..."
"Just one time, I bet," Elsie said.
"Uh-huh," she said, nodding.
"Just one time and you think you'se gonna have triplets." The
big woman made a face. "Why, you barely look old enough to be
bleedin' much. How old was this boy who humped you?"
The choice of words Elsie used made Billie blush. "He's ten,
I think ... maybe eleven."
For a long time Elsie Shelton rocked back and forth on the
mattress, laughing until the tears rolled down her fat cheeks.
Billie still felt woozy, but she was able to see better now and
the uneasiness in her guts was gone. Why was Elsie laughing so
hard? she wondered. It wasn't funny at all to her.
"Listen, honey," the black woman finally said, "if that
little piece of pecker was able to squeeze out a drop or two of
jizzum I'd stand up and shout hallelujah for him."
"But he said--"
Elsie took her arm and squeezed it, "Even if he did manage a
little it won't amount to nothin'."
"You mean ... you mean it won't make a baby in me?" Billie
was almost afraid to believe what Mrs. Shelton had told her.
"Shee-it, no!" Elsie took both of Billie's shoulders and
studied her face. "You came all the way out here with Hanson to
ask me that?"
"I guess ... I did."
She felt her face being turned first one way and then the
other while the colored woman studied each detail.
"You a mighty pretty little thing," Elsie said. "Ain't got
much lips but still awful pretty."
Her daddy had always told her that she had lips like plump
berries, but Billie smiled and dipped her head shyly. "Thanks for
sayin' so."
"Your monthly started yet?"
"Almost ... there was a little on my panties about a month
ago."
Elsie nodded slow-like. "You look to be about fourteen, that
right?"
Billie nodded. "A little late then," Elsie went on, "but
lotsa gals is."
The rag on her head felt good after hearing what the big
colored woman had told her, Billie felt a million times better.
She looked around the room and saw that it was much smaller than
she'd imagined at first. A faded picture hung crooked on one wall
and a naked light bulb dangled from the middle of the ceiling. A
single moth circled and darted, throwing flitting shadows over the
floor.
"You ever fuck Hanson?" Elsie asked. She was still wiping
Billie's head with the wet rag.
"No ..." She knew she'd gone all pink.
"Now there's a boy that could get a girl in trouble. So if
he ever waves that big old black snake in your direction you'd
better jump or Christmas'll find you with your apron all up under
your chin."
What Elsie was saying made Billie wonder how Alicia kept from
getting knocked up. She probably did it with men all the time and
still looked as slender as a rail.
"I'm not going to be naughty any more," she said, feeling
lucky that she'd escaped this time.
The big woman shook with laughter. "Well listen to you now!
Who says you'll he able to stop when that brown buck Hanson grabs
you some night?" Elsie looked up at the ceiling and smiled. "Only
wish I was young enough to take him on myself. Best-lookin' black
in the county, that Hanson is."
Elsie's words reminded Billie. It was true that she'd gotten
awfully careless at Basset's Pond. And she hadn't really thought
about it while it was happening ... she couldn't. It had felt too
nice. Billie watched the heavy woman lumber across to the door.
"Tell Hanson I'm in here, could you?"
Elsie turned. "He's a mite busy now, but don't you fret.
I'll tell him soon as I can." Then she turned off the glaring
light and left.
For a long time Billie-Ann just lay there in the darkness
resting ... thankful that Lonnie's little cock hadn't gotten her
in trouble. But after a while, Elsie's last words began to haunt
her. Hanson was busy somewhere and couldn't be bothered. All she
could think of was Alicia's whispered invitation and the intimate
look Hanson had exchanged with the chocolate-colored girl.
The noises in the big room came to her in waves. Laughing
people and clinking glasses and loud music. Billie liked the
music but felt lonely in the strange house without someone to talk
to. Restlessly she turned over on the bed and for the first time
saw light streaming through the cracks in the wall next to her.
Curious now, she held her breath long enough to hear voices in the
next room.
Moving nearer, Billie put her hand out and felt why she could
hear so easily. The wall was made of rough lumber laid edge to
edge and nailed in place. There were chinks and cracks up and
down it ... some even big enough to see through. She shoved her
eyes close to the largest chink and when she'd focused on the two
forms her heart plunged. In the small cubicle next to hers Billie
saw Hanson and Alicia standing naked together, their arms hugging
... faces pressed together.
"What you want to go messin' with that Billie for?" Alicia
simpered against Hanson's cheek.
He kissed her full lips then and Billie's ears burned as she
watched Alicia's hands caressing and fondling the muscles of
Hanson's strong body. She could see that the room they were in
was almost exactly like hers ... even to the narrow cot and
washstand by the window. And she could guess, too, what Hanson
and Alicia meant to do in there.
The brown girl's round bottom shivered and pressed against
Hanson when he dug at her asseheeks with his fingers. Billie knew
what it felt like. She remembered from the time at Basset's Pond.
Hot tears welled into her eyes but she shook them away. No, she
couldn't do those kind of things again anyway. Especially not
with Hanson.
Alicia laughed and pushed Hanson back onto the bed. He
leaned on his elbows and watched her fingers wiggle his cock
playfully.
"You smell like you're ripe as a black banana," he said.
"I'm slick for you, honey," Alicia said, sticking out her
pink tongue and curving it up at the tip.
The cot they were on was so close to the wall Billie was
peeking through that she felt uncomfortably near ... almost as if
she were in the same bed. It occurred to her that she could yell,
or cough loud enough to make them stop, but instead she bit her
tongue and stared. Afraid of seeing what might happen and too
warm with eager fire to look away.
She could see the gentle curve of Hanson's thigh and the way
Alicia touched his cock and stomach with her long-fingered hands.
Her head dipped and swayed just above the crowned head of his cock
and once she put her tongue out and let it tickle across the top.
Hanson stiffened and grabbed her braids.
"So you want to play, do ya?"
"Now, honey," Alicia cooed in mock tones of despair, "You not
gonna make me put that in my mouth!"
Billie's crotch tingled and burned as she watched Hanson
force Alicia's tightly closed mouth down ... down. And then in a
torrent of giggling laughter, the girl parted her pearl-white
teeth and let half his length slide into her mouth. Hanson
released her then and lay back. It surprised Billie that Alicia
didn't quickly pull herself away, but instead she began to move
her jaws slowly around the huge thing, smacking noisily all the
while. One of her cheeks stretched out as she took Hanson's meat
deep, and Billie felt herself quicken with sensual fire. When
Alicia moved her head back up, she pursed her lips just as the
domed tip of Hanson's cock rode out of her mouth. Billie could
see the whole length of it again and its dark, dusky texture was
now shiny with warm spit. Alicia grinned and with a cute,
mischievous dip of her head, she fluttered her pink tongue down
along the underside of the thick, pulsing thing. Hanson moaned
and shifted his ass on the bed.
"Gosh!" Billie said under her breath, "she's not afraid of it
at all!"
Without either of them saying anything ... without even so
much as a sign, Alicia swung her body around, and being careful to
keep Hanson's cock between her teasing lips, she straddled her
legs on either side of his head.
"Oh, no!" Billie whispered softly, "What--" But she saw what
was going to happen and it took her breath completely away.
Alicia's asscheeks were spread slightly and as she lowered
her body down to Hanson's face, Billie-Ann watched him tenderly
open the girl-folds of her cunt with his fingers. The darkly
pigmented inner linings glistened an invitation and Alicia pushed
back until the whole dark flower settled over Hanson's open mouth.
A noisy, wet licking sound brought another little gasp from
Billie's throat, but it was easy to see that it had a more
powerful effect on Alicia. Her slender body whipped like a willow
in a storm and her breasts quivered with the fury of her
wigglings. Hanson hooked his hands over her thighs to keep his
mouth against the tender shoot of her clit, and Alicia's back
humped convulsively. Billie saw that the girl's mouth had come
free of Hanson's cock and hung slackly open, drooling a little
warm spit onto his balls.
Alicia's ass plunged against Hanson's teeth and tongue so
furiously that Billie could hardly bear to watch. Her own panties
were wet with hot juice and in the darkness she let her passions
take control. In an instant she'd tossed the hem of her dress up
and shoved three or four fingers into the slushy crevice between
her plump and burning lips. Even after seeing the dirty pictures
Jed had given her, Billie had hardly believed that a man would put
his mouth on a girl's cunt. And now, only a few feet away, it was
happening. Hanson was really sucking and kissing and licking
Alicia's slit and it looked as if the girl were going crazy with
the way it felt.
What would it feel like? Billie wondered. Tongues and mouths
were so soft and wet and squishy and so was a girl's cunt. She
trembled with the excitement of her imaginings and dug a finger
over her oily clit.
In the next room, Alicia had fallen sideways on the bed, but
the two of them were still clamped together in a squirming,
twitching embrace. Hanson was beginning to writhe around now and
Billie could see that Alicia had gotten her mouth over his shaft
again. Their hands played up and down over each other, probing
and stroking as the noisy love game went on.
Billie knew Alicia was older than she was the first time she
saw her, but now watching the girl with Hanson the difference was
obviously more than age. Alicia was doing and saying things that
Billie had never yet dreamed of, and the way Alicia moved her body
was different, too, more daring and free than Billie-Ann ever did
even when she was playing with herself in her own bedroom. Just
to see how it felt, Billie tried to wiggle her bottom the way
Alicia was doing it against Hanson's face. "Oh, wow!" she sighed,
feeling the difference right away. She did it again, raking all
of her fingers across her clit as she squirmed, and shocks of
excitement spread through her bottom and back.
When she put her face back to the crack in the wall, Alicia's
hands clawed the mattress while Hanson wallowed his mouth in her
slippery young flower. In her excitement Alicia had again
forgotten all about Hanson's stiff cock, but he didn't seem to
mind. It looked to Billie as if he were out to give Alicia all
the pleasure she could take, and by the looks of the twisting,
crying girl, she wouldn't be able to take much more. Billie had
to give a sympathetic sigh as she watched the brown, squirming
bodies. Suddenly Alicia snapped her back into a rigid arch and
fell half-off the narrow bed. Her hands tried to clutch onto
something but only snatched air.
"Oh, baby!" she cried. "Christ in heaven!"
It was then that Hanson pulled his face away from her cunt
and yanked the twitching dark girl back onto the bed. Billie was
sure that Alicia was about to come, because she was letting
herself be thrown around like a sack of feed while her breath
panted hot and loud in the small room. Hanson was spreading her
thighs now and as he bent forward on his knees, Billie watched him
heft his huge cock and guide it toward the steaming, soaked petals
of Alicia Shelton's hole. With a ravenous groan, Alicia clutched
Hanson as the dusky head settled between her glistening inner lips
and she moved her ass in circles, begging all the time for him to
hurry. His heated tip pushed past the ring of muscles at the
beginning of her tube and shoved the oily flesh apart as Hanson
inched it forcefully into the black girl's hungry vagina. Alicia
gave a happy little cry and spread her legs wider yet.
It was scary, Billie thought, for the girl to open herself so
completely to Hanson. His cock looked way too big for Alicia's
trim frame. It seemed impossible but each time Alicia brought her
bottom up, another inch of meat sank into the softness of her
eager body. Billie was so close she could almost smell their
musky, sexy heat and the feeling made her stretch and shiver alone
in the dark room. She felt again for the torn opening into her
own vagina. It was barely big enough for her to put in two
fingers and even that hurt a little. The idea of something as
huge as Hanson's heavy meat trying to work up into that small
place was too fantastic to even consider. She'd made up her mind
not to fuck any more anyway after the frighteningly close call
with Lonnie, and seeing what Alicia was having to endure with
Hanson cinched it. But it was so terribly exciting to watch!
When she focused again on the two of them, Hanson had pulled
Alicia half-over on her side and had hooked a powerful arm under
the crook of one pretty leg. The way the girl's thigh was pulled
up against her side like that caused the long, graceful muscles in
her legs to stand out each time she tensed. Billie-Ann could
clearly see the whole length of his glossy shaft as Hanson pulled
it almost all the way out of the girl's cunt. It hung there for a
moment, the tip caressed only by Alicia's tiny inner lips. Then
the powerful muscles in Hanson's back and buttocks tightened and
Billie watched the fantastic spear glide quickly into the warmth
of her yielding body. And as it filled the brown girl, she arched
prettily. Billie was almost certain she could see her belly push
out from the cock inside! She didn't want to believe it, but
Hanson repeated his motions, and, sure enough, the soft brown skin
domed out a little around Alicia's navel.
Hanson brought his steeled cock all the way out again and
Billie noticed that even his loose-swinging ball sac was half-
smeared with the slick honey that sprang from Alicia's swollen
girlhood. Now he was driving into her with a fury, and each time
their bodies bumped tight together it brought a savage little cry
from Alicia's throat. Billie knew it must be tearing the girl
apart. She just wasn't big enough ... nobody could be ... to have
something like that rammed and driven into the depths of her guts.
But Alicia didn't seem to be trying to make her sweating
lover stop. Her mouth fell open against Hanson's shoulder and her
head tossed with little jerks of excitement as he held himself
deep inside her. Then she began to roll her ass in a grinding,
frantic way, clutching again and again at his shoulders like she
might drown if he let her go.
"Oh, Hanson, honey-man ... I'm gone now!" It was then that
Hanson quickened his in-and-out movements, Alicia's taut bottom
pawing crazily at the air when he pulled back as if she could
never be filled no matter how many times the thick cock was shoved
into her parted cunny.
"Yes, baby," she sighed. "Ohhh ... like that ... like that
..."
Billie-Ann had her aching little clitoris pinched between two
fingers and was rolling it hard enough to make her wince with the
friction. She'd never in her life seen anything like it ... even
dreamed anything like it. Though she felt shame at peeking like a
crazy person while two people fucked, it was impossible to stop
the lovely rubbing of her soft, itchy crevice. The pangs in her
thighs quickened, causing her to stiffen and arch against the
mattress. It would be over in a moment and she could stop
thinking for a while .. stop thinking about men and cocks and
fucking and.
There was a rattling noise of the doorknob being turned, and
Billie yanked her wet fingers free and sat up on the edge of the
bed. She'd just managed to get her dress back down when Elsie
turned on the light.
"If you feel like gettin' up, I'll fix you a nice soda pop,"
Elsie said, smiling broadly. "That oughta help settle your
stomach some." Elsie put her arm around Billie's slender waist and
helped her stand up. "My, you look flushed."
Billie-Ann couldn't tell the nice colored lady that she could
hardly stand because of the buzzy electric sizzle between her
thighs. She couldn't tell her how close she'd been to making
herself come.
The wall of loud laughter and pumping bassy music hit Billie
as they came into the big room and made her feel even weaker, but
Elsie brought her over behind the bar and made her sit on an empty
beer keg. She felt safer now and taken care of.
"Here, baby," Elsie said, snapping the cap of a bottle of
orange soda. "This'll fix you right up."
"I sure want to thank you," Billie said, "for telling me all
about ... well, you know. And for taking care of me and all."
Elsie laughed. "Oh, my ... it ain't nothing. Nothing at
all."
Sam was on his stool peering over the bar at Billie. She
smiled politely, but when he winked she quickly turned away. His
look had reminded her of the mushy fire at her crotch that still
hadn't been quenched. Elsie moved heavily up and down behind the
bar, drawing beers and pouring whiskey while Billie perched on the
keg and nursed the soda. She was glad to be out of sight of the
black faces at the tables, but how would she get out of the place?
Would Hanson ever come to get her? Suddenly, someone was standing
next to her. Hanson!
"Elsie told me you got a little sick. How do you feel now?"
He put his hand out to her shoulder but Billie drew back from his
touch. All she could think of was his dangerous-looking cock ...
and what would happen to her if he decided to make it hard and
force it into her teeny little hole.
"I wanta go home," she half-sobbed.
"Sho. Come on." And he slipped an arm around her and walked
her toward the door. Standing up made Billie feel giddy and loose
and when the cool fresh air outside hit her face she threw back
her head and laughed with the relief of not being stared at any
more.
"Sounds to me like you got yourself a little bit drunk,
Billie," Hanson chuckled.
"I feel fine," she said, not able to stop the waves of
giggles that racked her chest. "Just fine."
Hanson opened the door on her side and she flopped down
across the seat. The truck started and bumped down the drive and
out onto the dirt road that wound out of the river delta land.
Billie sensed the nearness of Hanson's thigh against the top of
her head, but she was too exhausted to sit up, and the rolling
rhythm of the truck was making her cunt tickle again ... weakening
her even more. All that drinking had made her feel so strange and
just when she thought she was coming out of it, she found that she
really wasn't sober at all.
"Don't fuck me, Hanson," Billie mumbled, slurring her words.
"What did you say?" There was surprise in his voice.
"Don't fuck me ... please don't."
Billie heard his mellow laugh fill the truck cab. "Okay,
baby, I won't and that's a promise."
She closed her eyes then and didn't even flinch when she felt
a warm hand smoothing the side of her face as the truck lurched
and pitched down the narrow rutted road.
Chapter 11
Billie's mind had been tumbling head over heels with strange
drunken thoughts and she didn't notice when the truck tilted up a
steep pull-off and bounced to a stop against a half-buried
boulder. Even after Hanson stopped the engine and got out his
side, she imagined for a moment that they were already home and he
was going around to open the door. Her door did open then, but
instead of Hanson helping her up from the seat, she felt his hands
toss her dress up and the roughness of his beard push between the
V of her closed legs.
"Hanson!" she cried, trying to push herself up, but he put a
heavy forearm across her middle and kept her pinned. Billie felt
his chin press painfully into the muscle of one thigh and squeeze
a thumb into the other. It hurt so bad that she had to open them
a little and Hanson was ready the second she weakened.
Billie gave a panicky cry when she felt his hot-breathed
mouth against the thin nylon covering her slit. He was wetting
the crotch-piece with his tongue, pressing the soaked material in
between her labia and she squirmed crazily to get loose, but
Hanson twisted her wrists down against the seat of the truck and
snuggled his mouth even tighter against Billie's scantily covered
cunny.
"Please, NO!" she sobbed, "Oh, God Hanson, please don't!"
But his tickling and wetting of her panty crotch only grew
more intense. Billie tried to steel her mind against the feeling
that had begun to invade her body, but from the beginning she felt
herself losing ground. It was so hot and wet down there with his
mouth pushed against her mound, and her struggling seemed only to
make it worse ... or better. Maybe if she tried to lie still ...
yes, that was the way. If Hanson thought she wasn't enjoying it,
he'd surely let her go.
But suddenly he was doing something else with his tongue.
Billie could feel the tip moving off of the nylon and wetly
touching the inside of one thigh ... then pushing up and under ...
"Oohhhh!" she sighed, as a ripply wet caress soaked the slick
petals of her crevice and another lick petted them open. Billie
tensed her back, but the new sensation had prevented her from
moving away. Little by little Hanson was stretching her panty
crotch over and moving his mouth in to take its place. Then his
lips went away for a moment and she felt strong fingers hook under
the sheer band. Hanson was tearing something--tearing her
panties! Billie tried to focus her eyes and pushed up from the
seat, but she just whimpered weakly instead. There was a ripping
noise and her body jerked as the material parted. Cool air
touched her quivering loins. Hanson's strong hands slid under her
bottom and cupped each of her cheeks firmly, raising her body to
his open mouth. As the satiny folds blossomed against his
sucking, Billie circled her fingers around the steering wheel
above her head and squeezed until her knuckles went white. She
felt as if she were actually being eaten! Some of the loveliest
tickling she'd ever experienced caused her belly to jerk taut and
then go soft again. It was better than she could do with her
fingers ... better than Lonnie and his rabbity hunching. Hanson's
lips and teeth and tongue were all against her at the same time,
digging in the folds of her crevice until she didn't even try to
stifle the low, growling moans in her throat.
"Noo, no, no!" she whined, tossing her shoulders helplessly
against the worn springs of the seat. She pushed at his head with
both hands, but her arms trembled with the effort and Hanson only
found another seeping hollow to nibble.
"What are you doing to me!" she cried, closing her eyes so
tight that colored sworls of light danced and flickered against
her lids.
Hanson's fingers were moving again, smoothing up her heaving
tummy and over the youthful flesh of her breasts. Billie twisted
under the touch as he cradled each shivery swell and rubbed his
thumbs tenderly across both nipples. His fingers were wet with
her own juice, and the idea of it being smeared on her titties
made her give another gasp of passion.
The whiskey had her head dancing with crazy ideas and
shifting confusion. She'd suddenly become Alicia ... being eaten
in that small room at Elsie's. Billie was only partly aware that
her hips had started to move. Maybe Hanson was moving them ...
she didn't know for sure. His mouth burned into her all the
harder, probing nubbins of tenderness she didn't know she had,
until finally even the small opening into her vagina filled with
the thickness of his tongue. A sharp needle of pain made her cry
out and Hanson pulled out of her insides to go on licking her clit
once more.
Billie sighed with relief. She could smell the musky aroma
from her cunt wafting thickly through the truck cab. Her hands
kept trying to push Hanson's head away and then touching ...
holding it close. She felt excitedly at his mercy and at the same
time wished she could be home, safe and alone in her bed. But
then he was doing something wilder than ever to her. His tongue
danced and dove and rubbed at the very tip of her standing clit
and Billie plunged her fingers deep into the thick, nappy curls on
Hanson's head. A honey-warm rush of trembles filled her body, and
her ass squirmed ravenously with a life of its own.
"Hanson! Ohhh, God!"
Slowing his attack, Hanson teased with a barely touching
friction until Billie-Ann hung suspended in a hellishly
excruciating paradise. Her last breath stuck in her throat.
Hungry for release, she tightened her fingers in his hair and
pumped her buttery mound savagely against the mouth that was
driving her insane.
"Hunh, hunh, hunh," Billie groaned, spreading her sex oil
hotly over Hanson's chin and cheeks. At last he was licking again
but licking as slowly as anybody could lick without licking at
all. When the first tremor burst in the core of her body a
multicolored splash of goodness brought blood from her lip.
Hanson stopped his tongue-tip on her trigger, then came slipping
down it. Billie was frozen, her back arched and her mouth open,
praying for it to continue.
"Hannsonn!" she pleaded, digging her sharp heels into the
small of his back. And then she was coming all the way, her cunt
alive with butterflies and snakes and itchiness that grew into
amber bubbles ... each one bursting gloriously inside. Billie
whimpered frantically as the peaks neared and tossed her body
around as each turbulent wave of sensation racked her pubescent
frame. A sandal had fallen from one of her feet, and her face was
half-covered with tangled brown strands of hair, but Billie
couldn't worry about the mussed state she was in. Now she could
only savor the receding waves of warmth and try not to worry ...
* * *
She didn't know how long afterward she lay there on the front
seat, but out of a soft dream Hanson's strong arms were helping he
up. She was beside him then, eyes still closed and her arms
around his neck while he started the truck. Billie couldn't talk
... couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't sound dumb and
shallow after what had just happened to her. All she knew for
sure was that her body felt lovely ... her body felt loved.
Hanson was quiet, too, and while the truck bumped lazily down
the dirt road, he pulled back the hem of her cotton dress and
wrapped one huge hand over Billie's thigh. She didn't mind him
touching her there and when she looked down at the contrast of
their skins, she saw the torn crotch-piece of her panties dancing
in the breeze from the vent window. Her cunny was swollen and
puffy-feeling, and wisps of brown pubic hair were stuck against
each other in spit-soaked curlicues.
Billie decided she wasn't going to think about it. She
wasn't going to think about whether it was right or wrong or what.
And she wasn't going to think about Alicia and the loving way
Hanson had treated her. At that moment there was only Hanson and
herself in the small private cab of the old pickup. The whiskied
blurriness of her mind helped make it seem simple and
uncomplicated. She was so glowy and comfortable that even when
the headlights swung in behind them, Billie didn't notice. She
didn't notice, either, when the lights left them alone again. All
she was aware of was the way her body curved into Hanson's and the
smell and warmth of him. When the truck stopped, she had to shake
herself out of her dreaminess. Hanson was putting on her lost
sandal.
"Wh-where are we?"
"You got about a quarter-mile to walk," Hanson said. "I
didn't want your ma to kill you for nothin', so I'm lettin' you
out here.
Together they got out of the truck and Billie looked up into
Hanson's dark face. His features seemed handsomer than ever to
her, but now that she had to leave him, the wrongness Nora had
always warned of came tumbling down in her mind.
"I shouldn't have let you ..."
Hanson touched her lips with his hand. Then he tilted her
mouth up to his and hooked an arm around her thin back ...
crushing her boyish thinness against his muscled frame. Billie-
Ann felt wonderfully faint again and when Hanson's tongue dove
deep into her mouth, she moaned wildly at the feverish naughtiness
of kissing. When finally he ended the caress and smiled, Billie
stood there panting, her eyes wide and deep with feeling.
"I'll meet you at the pond tomorrow noon," he said.
Billie-Ann shook her head until the hair flew over her
shoulders. "No ... you know we cain't. Not any more ..."
Hanson had already climbed back into the truck. "Tomorrow,"
he said again and started the engine. She watched him back around
and head rattling off towards his folks' house. She knew she
couldn't keep meeting him and she didn't dare consider wanting to
let him do more soft, pretty things to her body. And yet for a
reason she wasn't quite sure of, Billie raised her arm and waved
at the disappearing pickup, her eyes blurred cloudy with hot
tears.
* * *
"You goddamn little slut!" Nora yelled; jerking Billie-Ann's
arm so hard that her teeth rattled. The house was dark and Billie
couldn't see anything but the dim, ugly outline of her
stepmother's face. "Where ya been so late?"
"I told you I was going for a walk."
Nora jerked her again. "It's after ten o'clock. What kind
of walk you been takin' that time o' night? Answer me!"
"It was cool in the woods," Billie lied. "I just couldn't
remember the time."
"And that's not the only bone we're gonna pick tonight,
neither!" Nora's fingers cut into her flesh. "Poor little Lonnie
told me what you made him do last night. It's the most shameful
thing I've ever heard in my whole life!"
Billie's face burned red and she stared dumbly at her feet.
"I ... I ... He wanted to do it, too ...
The slap caught her squarely and half-twisted her around.
Then Nora was jerking her again until her head snapped back and
forth.
"Mrs. Crumpers will never speak to me again," Nora spat. "I
had to send Lonnie home, too, and that means that garden patch
won't get cleaned out."
"Please believe me, Nora," Billie sobbed "I didn't mean
anything by it."
"Quiet, I said!" Her stepmother pushed her hard against the
wall. "I know what happened. You made Lonnie get in bed with you
and made him act like an animal between your legs. You did all
that just to feed your filthy, sinful lust."
Billie-Ann's chest heaved with her crying. She knew that
part of what Nora said was true, but at the same time she hated
the old woman for making it sound so horrible. She hadn't meant
to be evil ... hadn't meant to hurt anyone. For a second she
almost felt like blurting everything that Lonnie had told her
about him and his sister Gloria and the games they played, but it
wouldn't have made any difference. Nora never believed anything
she said.
Finally the mean old woman stopped cursing and shoved her
towards her room. In the dim-lit hall, Billie's dress caught on a
doorknob and pulled it up around her waist. Nora bumped into her
from behind, accidentally brushing a gnarled hand against Billie-
Ann's bare bottom, where the torn panties had hiked up.
"What's happened to your pants!" the woman bellowed. "Why,
they're torn all the pieces!"
"Nora, please don't hit me ..." But Nora's hand came down
again and again on Billie's face and shoulders until she slumped
to the floor, sobbing harder than ever.
Her stepmother pushed her over on her back and kicked her
hard in the ribs. "What you gonna try and tell me now?" she
screeched, "that you caught 'em on a branch or fell down in the
briar patch? Huh? Is that what you're gonna tell me?"
Again and again, Billie felt the well-aimed blows. Her back
ached and her stomach felt sick and hollow. "You're hurting me!"
Somehow she got to her hands and knees and crawled down the hall
towards her room. Nora followed close behind, kicking and
cursing.
She didn't have a plan ... didn't know exactly what she was
going to do, but somehow she had to make the pain stop. Had to
make Nora stop hurting her.
Inside her room, she got unsteadily to her feet and jerked
open the top drawer of her dresser. Nora punched a fist at her
side, knocking the air from her lungs. Billie wasn't thinking any
more, just acting. Her fingers closed around the heavy stag
handle of the hunting knife her father had left her when he'd run
away. With a sliding, sharp sound the blade came out of the oiled
sheath. A staggering blow from Nora caught Billie in the middle
of the back and with a scream she wheeled around and brandished
the knife over her head.
"Stop now!" she cried, "or I swear I'll cut you in two!"
The moon against the walls made Nora's sweaty face shine.
She looked so wicked, Billie thought. Like a witch.
"You're going to reform school if I have anything to say
about it." The old woman's voice was still vicious, but Nora had
started backing up. "I can do it, you know. Send you to the
school for girls. They'll straighten you out real quick. You'll
be sorry you ever touched that knife, you little bitch!"
Her stepmother backed through the doorway, the curtains swung
closed and Billie was alone in her room at last. Exhausted, she
fell across her bed, the knife still clasped in her hands. She
didn't know how long she cried against the pillow, but after a
while the soft forgetfulness of sleep relaxed the bruised muscles,
and Billie's body went limp, her soft, wet cunt still glowing
where Hanson Allen's mouth had ravaged it.
Chapter 12
Hanson was hung over the next morning and had to take a bad
ribbing from his dad because of it. It finally got so bad that he
loudly offered to take his father's truck to town and pick up some
things they needed from the hardware store, just to prove to the
elder Mr. Allen that his son could ride all right with a hangover.
"When I was young," Lucas Allen said, pouring himself a third
cup of coffee, "we had to hay all day. Even if we didn't get home
till dawn."
"Well, ain't nobody gonna make me hay all day." Hanson shook
his head. "Not on a Friday for sho. You mighta been crazy enough
to do it, but not me."
"Wasn't so crazy about it," Mr. Allen said, nodding sharply.
"Man said work. We worked."
Hanson finished his toast and gulped down a glass of orange
juice. "Give me them keys. If I sit here listening to you jaw
all day I'll never get that stuff from the store."
* * *
As he drove towards Dooberville, Hanson let the memories of
the night before soothe his booze-aching head. There was even a
shiny place on the seat where some of Billie-Ann Wheeler's sweet
honey had run down from her cunt and dried. To look at it gave
Hanson a terrible pang of desire. But it was easier in the
daylight to remember he wasn't living in New York or Boston. It
was Missouri and they played the game differently here. It wasn't
the first time he'd reminded himself of that, but when it came to
innocent young girls his will power disappeared. The truth of the
matter, of course, was that fourteen-year-old Billie-Ann had
enraptured him to the point of desperation. Even after sating his
appetite with lovely, hot Alicia Shelton, all he could think of
was the way Billie looked in her forlorn and raggedy cotton dress.
A dove flew up from the roadside and narrowly missed hitting
the front of the truck. Hanson watched it disappear into the
trees, and somehow its graceful flight brought another dreamy
image of Billie into his head. That lovely little cunt of hers,
delicately shaped ... all white from being hidden from the sun.
And when he'd opened it with his tongue the smell had been a
mixture of girlish piss musk and the ambrosia of her sex juices.
But she was small in the hole. Hanson was pretty sure she'd never
been really fucked yet ... at least not by any full-grown man. No
cock that was close to normal size could fit into the tight place
he'd searched with his tongue-tip.
Thinking of how her loins had tasted and how she'd tossed and
struggled made Hanson take another deep breath of restrained
passion. "Something gotta give," he said. Ahead the stop sign at
the highway came into view and he slowed the truck and pulled up.
Hanson knew there wasn't any future for a black man around
Dooberville. He made his mind up right then to leave the county
in the next day or so ... leave Missouri even. As long as he
stayed he knew he'd have to see Billie again, and the longer he
messed around with her the more he'd want her. She was far too
young to understand how crazy a man could get. Hanson didn't want
to be the one to sacrifice his sanity.
* * *
When Hanson drove the truck through town on the way to the
hardware store, he hardly noticed the sheriff's big white car
waiting at an intersection. But three blocks further, the
revolving red light reflected in his rear-view mirror and he
pulled over to the curb. A beer-bellied deputy swaggered heavily
over to Hanson's side of the truck and pushed his big hat back on
his head.
"Let's see your license, boy."
Hanson tightened his jaw and fished his wallet out. There
would be time later to get pissed off, he told himself. When he
was out of this goddamned state. The deputy glanced quickly at
the small card and tapped it with the edge of his thumbnail.
"Appears to me this license is for the State of New York."
Hanson was getting mad now and the big man's sunglasses were
reflecting the glaring sun right into his eyes.
"I live in New York," he said, keeping his voice easy.
"What you doin' here then?" The deputy smiled and pushed his
glasses back up the bridge of his nose with a thick finger.
"Visiting."
"And this truck's got Missouri plates, too." The man looked
at him hard. "You sure you didn't steal it?"
"It's my old man's truck ... Lucas Allen. Everybody around
here knows him."
"Never heard of him. You better show me some registration."
When Hanson couldn't find the papers tied around the steering
column or in the glove compartment he checked behind the visor.
There wasn't so much as a chewing gum wrapper anywhere.
"Look, next time I'm in town I'll bring them by your office
...
Already the deputy was shaking his head, smiling a smile that
Hanson wanted to shove his fist into. "I figure you better drive
on down to the office right now so we can check this thing out."
Hanson stared straight ahead, gripping the steering wheel so
hard his fingers ached. "Bullshit," he said, just loud enough for
the man to hear.
"What you say, boy?" The deputy slipped Hanson's license into
his shirt pocket and leaned on the door.
"I said bullshit."
The man jerked open the door and grabbed Hanson's arm.
"You'd better come along now or I'll throw a resisting arrest
charge on your black ass!"
It all seemed so ridiculous that for a minute Hanson thought
if he just laughed that the deputy would laugh, too, and it would
all be over. That was when the other door of the truck flew open
and Jed Judson piled in, pushing and shoving Hanson out into the
deputy's arms before he could get out by himself.
"Thought you might need some help," Jed said to the lawman,
grinning and nodding all the time.
Now Hanson knew who the other man he'd seen in the front seat
of the patrol car had been. He tried to meet Jed's eyes, but the
awkward fellow looked away and fiddled with one strap of his bib
overalls. There was something about the way things were fitting
together that Hanson didn't like at all.
"What about the truck?" he protested as the deputy led him
toward the patrol car.
"Don't worry none about that; we'll take good care of it."
On the two-block ride to the Dooberville police station,
Hanson stared at the back of Jed Judson's stupid head and thought.
He tried to recall the first day he'd given Billie-Ann a ride and
remembered then that he'd passed Jed's old pickup stopped by the
road that same day. It was later when he'd happened upon Billie
walking. Hanson had known the Judson boy when he was younger and
it seemed that as a kid he'd always been weird. Had he grown up
to be even weirder?
While the deputy helped book him at the station, something
else occurred to Hanson. The headlights that had followed him the
night before had come into view right after he'd left the pull-off
where he'd stopped with Billie-Ann. And Jed had passed them
earlier on the same road when they'd been heading for Elsie's.
"Can't I make a phone call?" he asked.
"Phone's out of order," the clerk said, not looking up from
his writing. Jed was hanging round just inside the door and when
Hanson tried to look at him again, the shallow blue eyes darted
away like scared rabbits. Then the deputy was pulling him out of
the room and down a hallway lined with cells. Hanson was shown
into one and the steel bars clanged shut behind him.
"You lockin' me up over something like this?" Hanson watched
the man turn the key. "You gotta at least tell me what I'm
charged with and what the bail is set at."
"I don't have to tell you nothin', boy." The deputy took a
toothpick from his pocket and stuck it between a gap in his front
teeth. "But for now we'll call it driving without registration
and a proper license."
Hanson watched his back disappear into the front office; then
he sat down on the bottom bunk and rubbed his eyes. If the Judson
boy had seen something while Billie was stretched out half-naked
on that truck seat ... He shook his head solemnly. It was enough
to make any southern sheriff's mouth water. And now they had him.
If they dragged Billie into it and forced some kind of confession
from her, that would be the end.
"Open up, penitentiary," he said to the empty cell, "'cause
I'm comin' in." The only way out would be for someone to get his
bail before other more serious charges were added. Charges like
the carnal knowledge of a minor. A white minor at that.
Something the judge wouldn't forget when he read sentence.
He thought of his dad, but the old man didn't have ten
dollars, much less fifty or a hundred. And anyway, his folks had
to finish living their life right up there in the hills and in the
same damned county. It wouldn't do for him to drag Lucas into any
hassles with the law. Hanson smacked a fist down on his knee.
Yeah it would probably be a fifty-dollar bail. They couldn't put
it any higher with the flimsy charges they had on him now. But if
he couldn't make a phone call he was screwed anyway. They'd keep
him in till they could work up something good. They'd get Billie
and scare her until she agreed to say anything they wanted in a
court of law.
He slumped back on the bunk and leaned his head against the
rough concrete wall. It looked as if there were nothing to do but
sweat it out and count on the slim chance that Billie might not
want to say anything. Even with all his troubles, Hanson was
thinking of her again. Thinking of her willowy, thin body pressed
against his. There was no pleasure quite so intense ... so
achingly beautiful as that. Hanson could only wonder what lovely
sensations might await him if the moment ever came when he could
slip his cock up between those feverish young cuntlips and feel
himself enclosed by Billie's darling fourteen-year-old body. He
could almost feel her small titties mashed against his bare chest
... could almost feel her eager mouth wild and wet against his
neck.
"Carnal knowledge," Hanson said under his breath, "and I'm
damn sure guilty." Then he cupped a protective hand around his
cock and balls and closed his eyes. It would be a long day. A
long day for sure.
Chapter 13
Before dawn had begun to show at her window, Billie-Ann had
already decided to leave her stepmother's house. Quietly she
packed what few clothes she owned into an old duffel bag, stuffed
in her daddy's old bone-handled hunting knife and the naughty
pictures she'd gotten from Jed and slipped out of the house while
Nora still snored in bed.
As she cut into the woods and found the path down out of the
hills, she knew she didn't have a plan at all ... no place to go
... no place to hide. She thought of waiting for Hanson at
Basset's Pond, but by then Nora might be looking for her and it
would be just that much harder to get out of Dooberville without
being taken back ... maybe even put in the reform school. No, she
had to leave the county if she could. Maybe even leave Missouri.
If she could get to town and pay the dollar or two it cost to
take the bus to Louiston, her chances would be better. Especially
if she was out of town before Nora could trudge through the woods
to the Crumper house to use their phone to call the sheriff. In
Louiston she might get a job as a waitress until she had enough
scraped together to put more distance between her and her
stepmother.
A longing to see Hanson one more time brought an empty ache
to her chest, but she kept on walking. At Basset's Pond she
didn't dare stop to rest. Waiting to meet Hanson now wouldn't do
her any good. He'd just want to hug and kiss her until she
couldn't think straight any more. A tear burned her eye, but she
brushed it away and switched her duffel bag to the other hand.
Maybe she could write him a letter someday ... tell him where she
was. Maybe. In another minute, Basset's Pond was behind her.
It was about ten o'clock by the time Billie'd made her way
through the woods to where the fork was. It would be easier
walking next to the road until she got to town and anyway someone
might stop and give her a lift. She'd be safe from suspicion for
another two or three hours at least before Nora could spread the
word. She was about to step out of the brush and cross the
culvert when the noise of a car startled her. It was heading up
into the hills and Billie decided to duck down behind a bush, just
to be safe. She saw it was the sheriff's car and when it swung
left at the fork and disappeared in the direction of her
stepmother's place, Billie felt a little tug of fear. It was
impossible for anyone to know of her running away yet and old man
Allen had never been in any trouble. Besides that, the last
whiskey still in the county had been broken up three years before
and she was positive there weren't any working in that neck of the
woods any more.
For a while, Billie walked along the side of the road,
keeping her ears peeled for the sheriff coming back. Sure enough,
not half an hour had passed when she heard the big sedan somewhere
behind. Billie watched it pass from behind a huge stump. The
deputy was in the car, his jaw poked out ahead as he drove.
Whatever the reason for the law to be nosing through the hills,
she couldn't take any chances. She'd have to stay out of sight as
much as possible when she got to town. Until she was on that bus
and heading away from Dooberville.
Billie-Ann was almost to the stop sign at the highway when
she spotted Jed Judson's pickup making the turn and heading down
the road toward her. For a minute she felt like hiding, but the
woods were behind her now and there were only a few tall weeds to
squat behind. Then Jed honked his horn and swerved her way.
Billie frowned and kept walking. She'd just have to put up with
him for a minute or two.
"Hey, I'm glad I found you!" Jed said, leaning out the
window. "Why don't ya get in?"
Billie squinted suspiciously at him. "You don't know nothin'
about me running away from Nora?"
"Hell, no!" Jed swore, shaking his head harder than he had
to.
"All I want is a ride to town," she said.
"Sure, sure. Come on." He reached over and opened the other
door while Billie walked around the truck. It was the first time
she'd been with him since she'd traded her panties for the dirty
pictures, and there was something about his manner she didn't
like. But Billie had to admit that it was safer than being out in
plain sight on the highway, especially if the deputy was looking
to bring her back to Nora. When Jed backed the truck around and
headed down the blacktop again, he smiled at Billie and nodded
toward her duffel.
"So you really are running away."
"Yeah."
"Listen, Billie, there's something I been wanting to talk to
you about." Jed swallowed and scratched a pimple on his chin.
"What I mean .... about what happened the other day. I sure hope
you don't think I'm crazy or something."
Billie looked at him. "I guess not. It don't matter none."
"Yeah, but it does matter. To me it matters. Ever since I
had those pants of yours I can't get you off my mind I love you,
Billie, I ..."
"Stop it, Jed!" Billie frowned hard at him "You just stop
talking like that." There was a strange cast to his eyes that
frightened her.
"I know you need lovin'," he rambled on. "I know it after I
saw what you done with that nigger last night ..."
Billie tightened her fingers around the cloth handle of her
duffel. "What are you talking about, Jed?"
He looked at her surprised, pale-blue eyes. "Why, you
remember last night, when you was eaten out by that boy Hanson. I
was hidin' in the bushes and saw everything. I knew you was drunk
or something by the way you carried on. He got you drunk, didn't
he? So he could do that to you."
With a little gasp of anger, Billie turned to stare out the
side window, but she was sure her face was crimson.
"Don't worry 'bout it none, though," Jed giggled shrilly.
"If you just give me a chance with you there ain't nobody need
know any details about what you did with that nigger 'cept me and
you and Deputy Sheriff Goodlin."
"Deputy Goodlin!" Billie cried.
"Why, shore," he said nodding. "It's against the law for a
nigger to touch a white girl like Hanson Allen touched you." Jed
shrugged. "Actually, it's because he's a grown man and you're so
young, but seems to me him being black makes it worse."
They were nearing the town limits now and Billie's heart
pounded frantically in her chest. What was Jed trying to tell her
anyway? And what had they done to Hanson?
"We caught that black bastard early this morning," he went
on, "me and the deputy. They put a fifty-dollar bail on his
head." Jed laughed in a loony, loose way. "Take all the niggers
in niggertown to raise that much."
Billie tried to make her voice as calm as possible. "Jed,
let me out ... now."
"Oh, I can't do that. Deputy Sheriff Goodlin has been
lookin' for you. He went up to your house a little bit ago but
you was gone so I came lookin' myself." Jed reached over to pat
her shoulder but Billie jerked away. "You're not in any trouble;
they just want you to write down what that perverted nigger did
last night, and that oughta keep him in a cage for a while."
"Jed," Billie said, aware of the quaver in her voice, "let me
out!"
"Won't take you but a little bit at the jail," Jed said
eagerly. "Then I'm gonna show you how much I really care for you,
Billie-Ann. I won't do nothin' so nasty as that nigger done, but
if you help I bet I can satisfy you real good. I just know when I
see you stripped buck naked that I can ..."
Billie had waited until the truck was just starting out from
the first stop light in town before she jerked the door handle and
kicked her duffel bag out. Then she jumped to the road after it,
hooked her hand through the handle and ran as fast as she could.
"You, Billie! Come back here now!"
She heard the truck's engine racing and then the gears grind
noisily as Jed tried to get turned around. But before he could
swing around the block, Billie ducked through an alley and when
she didn't see the pickup, crossed the street and headed for the
big glass doors of the Dooberville Community Bank. The remodeled
front looked a little too modern for the other stores around it,
but because it didn't have many windows, Billie thought she'd feel
safe inside.
Once through the doors she stopped and looked around. The
refrigerated air was cool on her legs and the thick carpet made
the adding machines an typewriters sound muted and far away. And
that was when the idea struck her. Hanson was in trouble ...
maybe bad trouble unless she could get him out. Fifty dollars was
what Jed had said it would cost. Behind the teller's cage the
gigantic thick steel door of the safe shined back at her. With
all the money the bank had in there, surely they'd let her borrow
enough to get her friend out of jail.
A woman with jeweled glasses smiled from a nearby desk and
Billie went over. "I need to borrow fifty dollars," she said.
"It's an emergency."
"Then you'd have to see Mister Butler's son Jerrold." The
woman rolled a fresh piece of paper into her typewriter.
"Unfortunately, he's out for the afternoon and won't be in again
till Monday."
"But I need it now!" Billie cried. "Could you tell me where
he is?"
The woman pursed her lips and frowned.
"Jerrold lives with his father." She gave a smug nod.
"Jerrold's father is president of the bank. I'm sure the Butlers
wouldn't want to be disturbed at home."
"Maybe if I talked to him ..."
"It would be much better if you wait till Monday."
Billie found some courage somewhere. "I know somebody will
tell me where to find Jerrold Butler. Won't you please?"
The woman behind the desk looked uncomfortable. "Oh, all
right. But it won't do you any good. It's the big white house on
Maple, two blocks from the corner of the park." She shrugged.
"Please don't tell the Butlers I gave you their address."
After Billie had looked up and down the street and made sure
it was safe to leave the bank, she crossed into the alley again
and headed for the municipal park. It was the only place in town
she was sure she could find and if the deputy or Jed Judson didn't
catch her first, maybe she could get to the Butler place. But of
course she still didn't have a plan or even the faintest idea of
what she'd say to Jerrold Butler ... if she found him.
Billie was almost across the grassy park when she saw the
white patrol car cruising up a side street. She dropped her
duffel bag behind a trash can and slid into the wooden seat of a
swing until the car had turned the corner and headed back towards
the business district. Jed had probably told them that she'd
slipped away from him and Billie knew that her chances of helping
Hanson would grow smaller with each passing hour.
Halfway down Maple she spotted the white house and hurried
on. It looked to her like the kind of place a banker would live
in. She was relieved to find the wrought-iron gate open and in a
moment Billie had slipped inside the high hedged yard. For a
while at least she'd be safe from the searching eyes of the
Dooberville police.
No one came when she rang the front doorbell, and after she'd
called through the screen and still didn't hear any movement from
inside, she walked around to the back. There was a high wall
around what she guessed must be the swimming pool, and before she
was close enough to see the water she heard a loud splash.
Keeping an eye out for dogs, she crept up to the archway in the
wall and peeked around. The turquoise water in the pool was rough
with waves but she couldn't see anyone. Then a blond head bobbed
up somewhere near the middle and a young-looking man started
swimming toward the side nearest her. Billie watched him lean his
elbows on the wet tiles and squint into the sun while the water
trickled from his hair. His shoulders were very tan and though he
didn't look as strong as Hanson Allen, he didn't look flabby,
either. He was almost handsome ... in a snooty kind of way.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped around the side of the wall and
stood there clutching her duffel bag with both hands. "I'm
looking for Jerrold Butler," she said.
The boy snapped his head around and Billie could see that he
was even younger-looking than she'd first thought. Maybe twenty-
one or two ... it was hard to tell.
"That's me," he said, starting to smile a little. "But who
in hell are you?"
Billie told him her name and that she'd gone to the bank to
borrow fifty dollars.
"You must really need that money bad," he laughed, pushing
wet curls back from his forehead while he studied her.
"Yes ... I do need it. Awfully bad."
"Tell you what," the boy said. "You come take a dip and
we'll talk about that money later."
Billie looked around at the house and then back at Jerrold
Butler. She really didn't want to go swimming. Anyway, she
didn't have a suit and the last time she'd gotten near water
without a swimsuit ...
Jerrold smiled at her hesitance. "I don't loan money to
girls on Friday afternoon unless they come swimming with me."
"Mister Butler," she started, "I ..."
"Call me Jerrold. And if you're trying to tell me you don't
have a suit, well I don't, either." With those words, he dove, and
for an instant Billie saw his white bottom flash to the surface
and then slip down with the rest of him into the green depths of
the pool. She picked up her bag and turned, her face hot. She
was hoping that Jerrold Butler might feel sorry for her and stop
her and offer to loan her the fifty dollars right there, but when
she heard his head break surface again there was only a long,
crazy-sounding laugh.
"Don't forget to close the gate on your way out!" he called.
Billie pressed her lips together angrily and stopped. She
could almost see Hanson behind the bars of the jail ... waiting
for someone. Waiting for her. Suddenly angry, she whirled around
and put her bag down on a nearby beach chair. "You mean you
absolutely won't loan me any money unless ... unless ...
"In the nude," Jerrold said, smirking.
Tears of frustration welled in her eyes and Billie let them.
"I think you're just ... horrible!" she cried out.
Jerrold Butler laughed, obviously not bothered by her tears.
"Most people would jump at a chance to swim in my father's pool
with the future president of Dooberville Community Bank," he said,
paddling onto his back. Billie could see the black patch of his
pubic hair under the wavy water, and for the first time she
noticed the half-empty whiskey bottle setting under the shade of a
lawn chair.
"I bet your dad wouldn't like it ... wouldn't like what you
just said to me."
"My parents have gone to St. Louis for the weekend," Jerrold
said, treading water just under the diving board. "No one here
but me ... and you, of course."
Kicking off her sandals, Billie slipped her pullover top off,
then wiggled her jean shorts down. She was afraid to look up at
Jerrold, but he'd stopped splashing altogether now. Finally she
slipped off her panties and ran to the edge of the pool, thankful
that the wall around them was too high for any neighbors to peek
in. The cold water took her breath, but she went quickly down the
ladder until the wavelets tickled her chin. Then she edged along
the overflow gutter with her hands until she got to a place where
her toes could touch.
Jerrold hadn't moved from staring at her, but now she heard
him paddling across. "I didn't think you'd do it!" he said,
coming up close to her. "No shit, I really didn't think you
would."
When her eyes met his, she felt herself blush again, but she
kept looking anyway. "I told you I need that money." The feeling
of the water against her naked skin felt nice and when she moved
her legs a little the currents she stirred made her fine pubic
hair wave and tickle. Billie was getting ready to push Jerrold
away ... in case he tried anything, but he splashed off toward the
deeper end of the pool.
"Come on, I'll race you!"
"I can't swim!" she called back. Even before the words were
out, she knew she shouldn't have said them. In a flash Jerrold
Butler was back, grinning with mischief. Then he pried her hands
off the edge of the pool, holding her firmly by the wrists as she
lost her grip and pulled her backward in the deep water.
"Don't ... please don't; I'll drown."
"Then you'd better hang onto me, baby!" he said, laughing
crazier than ever. "God, you're pretty!"
It was worse than what had happened at Basset's Pond. The
strong boy was pulling her into even deeper water, and once he
pretended to lose his grip on her hands. After the second
mouthful of water Billie had to cough out, she threw her arms
around his neck and pulled her titties tight against his chest.
The sensation was exciting even though she didn't want to enjoy
it, but at least she wouldn't sink. The wave's moved their bodies
apart and then together again, and Billie felt the boy's stomach
press up against hers.
"You've got a beautiful body," Jerrold said, his voice low,
"but you couldn't be over fifteen or sixteen; am I right?"
Billie nodded, pleased that he'd overestimated her age by a
couple of years. Maybe she'd just let him think she was sixteen.
They were near the other side of the pool now and Billie was able
to reach out a hand to the gutter. She really wanted to get out
of the water and back into her clothes. "Can't I have that money
now?" she pleaded.
But Jerrold seemed not to hear. He was kissing her between
the shoulder blades. His hand moved down her waist, out over one
hip, then slipped around to lightly touch her cunt hair.
"Listen, we could drive down to Williamston tonight ... just
you and me."
"Don't ... please ... just let me have the money!"
"What's your name again?" he whispered, keeping his lips
against one of her shoulders.
"It's Billie," she mumbled, "Billie-Ann, but ..." Now
Jerrold's fingers were stroking open her labia and though the
feeling was warm and shuddery and good, she knew she couldn't let
it go on.
This time when she tried to pull herself up Billie managed to
hook a knee in the little gutter and shove herself clear of the
sucking waves. For a second she teetered for balance and though
surprised that Jerrold didn't grab at her and pull her back, she
gave a final lunge, rolled over on the slick tiles and staggered
to her knees.
"You're not going to get away that easy," Jerrold said as she
started running.
Billie could hear a splashing sound as he pulled himself out
of the pool to chase her. Her body felt heavy after being buoyed
by the water and she'd only managed to get one foot through her
panties before the pounding of Jerrold's feet came up behind her.
Letting the dainty things go, Billie started running again ... the
sleek nylon wrapping around her ankle as she fled through the arch
of the surrounding wall toward a long, screened-in porch. She
managed to get the flimsy door open and shut behind her before
Jerrold thundered up, laughing and swearing loudly. His cock was
heavy and thick with excitement and slapped wetly against his
thighs.
Just in time she shoved the lock down on the screen door, but
Jerrold laughed all the harder and scooped up a dandelion digger
from a nearby flower bed. Billie's heart dropped as she watched
him jam the implement into the crack between door and frame.
Afraid that the thing wouldn't hold, she turned and raced across
the porch and into the big house. She heard the snapping sound of
a lock breaking, Billie spun around in the middle of the big front
room, looking for a way to escape. When she spotted the stairs
she didn't hesitate any longer.
The sound of the screen door crashing open made her give a
little cry of terror as she ran up the steps two at a time and
turned down the long hall at the top. There was a bedroom at the
far end of it, and Billie only hoped there'd be a bathroom nearby.
She could lock herself in and maybe talk Jerrold out of whatever
he wanted to do. He reached the top of the stairs as Billie
stumbled to get away, but as she bounded through the bedroom door,
two strong arms encircled her naked body and pushed her sprawling
across the big double bed.
"I could scream, you know!" she gasped, trying to twist free
from Jerrold Butler's grasp.
"You'll only get one chance," he growled, "so make it good."
He forced her over on her back again and drove a knee between
her clamped thighs. Billie opened them with a cry of pain, and
Jerrold shoved his hips into the gap.
"All I wanted was to borrow fifty dollars," she wailed.
"Please let me go!"
"Don't give me that shit!" he snarled. "Jumping in my pool
with nothin' on ... you gotta be begging for it."
"But you told me if I wanted the money--" Billie's words were
smothered by Jerrold's mouth. Against her belly she could feel
the warmth of his cock ... but this time the cock didn't belong to
an eleven-year-old boy!
Her sheer, damp panties were still clinging to one ankle as
the boy on top of her moved his hips into a better position, then
slipped his cock down over her mound until she could feel the
pressure of it nudging her wet cuntlips. Then Jerrold lunged, and
her flesh parted slightly, wetting his glans with her love juices.
Billie was more afraid than she'd ever been in her life.
Afraid of Jerrold Butler's cock and afraid of the thick, hot stuff
he could pump into her vagina. But her arms felt so thin and weak
fighting his stronger ones. Below, in the softness between her
thighs, she knew her slit was being pushed apart to make room for
another inch of his penis. Trembling with effort, she tried again
to close her legs, but they only squeezed tight against her
attacker's own thighs.
"That's it," he moaned, humping his back to drive his cock
in. Billie tried to twist her hands free, but Jerrold only
stretched them higher above her head. She knew he was more than
halfway into her, and like always, her struggles were bringing the
pitch of her own body to a new tension. Every time he went deeper
into her cunt and rubbed her sensitive membranes with his cock, a
prickle of electric fire filled her stomach and breasts. Billie
pressed her face down against the pillow and closed her lids tight
... trying as hard as she could to think of something else. It
hurt. He was so much bigger than Lonnie, and the flared head of
his organ made sucking sounds as it mingled in her sex oil. By
the way Jerrold's breathing sounded Billie knew he wasn't trying
to make it last. If only Hanson would rescue her, she thought,
but it struck her that Hanson might want to do the very same thing
to her, and Billie's first fear was replaced with another.
"You sweet-smellin' little bitch," Jerrold panted into her
hair. Then he tried to kiss her again on the mouth, but Billie
turned her head from him and felt his teeth against her neck and
ear instead. The steady friction of the boy's body against her
clit had made her nipples, burn and sprout against his chest, and
now their rubbing was doing things to other parts of her.
"Oh, stop, stop!" she sobbed.
"Don't you like it?" he growled, jerking her hands even
higher. Billie looked at his blond brows and arrogantly handsome
face.
"No ... I don't ..." And it was partly true. She couldn't
stand the way he'd forced her like some piece of white trash that
the banker's son had rights to. But the other things that were
happening had Billie terribly mixed-up. The savage way her slim
bottom was being pressed against the mattress made her want to
wiggle free, but the wiggling only increased the feeling of being
pressed down until she had to admit that it was a kind of nice
feeling. The bad part was Jerrold Butler. Billie steeled herself
against the sensations, but her inflamed little cunt was beginning
to throb with all the rubbing and she could feel the fullness of
her abdomen.
Jerrold was making funny sounds in his throat and ramming his
body against her. Billie felt his hold loosen on one of her
wrists, but she knew it would be of no use to try to escape now.
His hips rocked and dipped and plowed at her ravaged little cunt
and she knew that his cock must be squirting her full of cum. She
was tired of struggling ... She didn't want him to know that he'd
finally managed to excite her.
But he went on and on ... rubbing her sleek cunt until with a
sudden consuming panic, Billie knew it was too late to hold onto
the fragments of her shattered emotions any longer. The tingling,
stormy thrill was filling her thighs and belly and she had to
clench the covers with her fingers to keep from squirming. Billie
bit her cheek and cried out with the effort of trying to stop what
was happening, but the tickle grew into a solid core of turbulent
exhilaration as the cock in her cunt kept fucking and fucking and
fucking. Then her will dissolved completely and she knew she
couldn't keep her trembling bottom still another second.
"Ohhh, nooo!" she whined, writhing, trying to disguise her
fever as an effort to get free. "Get off!" Billie choked, coming
blindly, her breath hoarse and dry in her throat.
"Baby," Jerrold mumbled, hugging her at last. "Baby--doll
..."
"I hate you, hate you, hate you!"
* * *
When it was over, Billie felt sick. Jerrold fell off of her,
a dreamy smile on his face, and she got up quickly and sat on the
edge of the bed while the sickness passed. Numbed, she felt the
jizz ooze out of her cunt and soak the bedspread until finally she
composed herself enough to untangle the panties from around her
ankle and slip them on.
"What about the money?" she asked. Her voice was so flat and
calm it surprised her.
"Come around to the bank on Monday," Jerrold said lazily.
"I'll arrange something for you then. Of course, you'll have to
have a co-signer and ..."
Billie-Ann doubled her fists and brought them down as hard as
she could on the side of Jerrold Butler's handsome face. He
pitched up from the bed with a yell and clamped a hand over the
red place that was already swelling under one eye.
"What the hell is wrong with you anyway!" His eyes glared
fiercely, but Billie stood her ground.
Inside, she felt like a scared little girl.
"I told you I needed the money now!" She was frightened, but
angry and tired, too. Tired of being pushed around.
"Okay, okay for Chrissake." He stood up, tenderly touching
the place on his cheek and studying Billie closely. "I don't have
fifty bucks I can spare, but--"
"I want a hundred now," she said, staring into his eyes until
he looked away. "Not to borrow--to keep."
Jerrold put his hands on his hips and gave her a smile, but
Billie could easily see it was an uncertain one. "Who do you
think you're trying to pull one on?"
But she was sure of her advantage now. Jed Judson had told
her only a little while before about the law and little girls
being naked with older fellas.
"I'm fourteen," she blurted, dimpled chin stuck out in
challenge. "Maybe I should just go down to the police station
and--"
"Wait now," Butler said, waving his hands. "Why don't we go
out tonight together and I'll buy you dinner and we can talk this
over."
"No!" Billie folded her arms under her breasts and pouted.
"Go get my clothes--then give me the money."
She waited alone in the bedroom until Jerrold returned,
sheepishly carrying the things she'd pulled off at poolside.
Billie saw that he'd put on his swimming trunks.
"I didn't know they let people like you work at banks," she
snapped, grabbing her things out of his hand.
"I've only been doing it since I flunked out of State U. If
I mess this job up my old man'll disinherit me for sure." He
looked at her apologetically. "Listen, if I had known you really
didn't want to play--"
"You owe me some money," Billie repeated, buckling her
leather belt and slipping into her sandals. She almost felt sorry
for him, but it wouldn't do her any good getting soft now.
Jerrold left the room again, and after a minute he returned,
mumbling. "This is all the cash there is in the house." He held
out four twenty-dollar bills and a ten. "I swear it is."
Without a word, Billie-Ann folded the money into her pocket
and pushed by him out of the room. She heard his footsteps behind
her as she went downstairs and across the big front room, but she
kept her eyes straight ahead. Finally at the door he jumped in
front of her.
"What kind of a chick are you anyway?" Jerrold asked,
frowning. "Just take the money and leave without so much as a
'go-to-hell'?"
Billie kept her expression straight and cool. "I got
something important to do." She stepped by and went down the long
walk. Just before she closed the wrought-iron gate behind her,
she glanced back to see him standing open-mouthed in the doorway
to his parents' house. Then she hurried down the street toward
where she thought the river cut through Dooberville. Now that
she'd gotten the money, Billie knew where she had to go ... to the
colored part of town to find someone who could bail Hanson Allen
out of jail.
* * *
As the houses along Bonner street began to get shabbier and
more paint-peeled, Billie knew she was heading in the right
direction. Finally, she could smell the river, and when she got
closer to the business part of black town, she could see the shops
and bars along one side of the street busy with Friday-afternoon
excitement. Billie was embarrassingly aware of the dark faces
turning her way as she walked by the open doorways. She wanted to
turn to ask for help but was still too afraid and uncertain to
try.
The heavy smells of greens boiling and of sizzling barbecue
made her realize she hadn't eaten all day, but there wasn't time
to think of food yet. The cool eyes of one black boy about her
own age looked boldly at her lithe, bare legs but when she chanced
a smile at him, he spat in the gutter and strolled proudly by.
Billie had stopped near the comer of one street when a girl
in a red dress staggered suddenly from a noisy bar and took her by
the arm. The colored girl's eyes were bloodshot and she smelled
of cheap whiskey.
"Honey, you's in the wrong part of town for Friday!"
Billie stared at her, speechless with terror, afraid that at
any moment more blacks would stumble from the bar and help run her
away .. or worse.
"I need help," she finally managed to say.
"Ain't nobody 'roun' here be able to help you." The woman
rocked unsteadily in her run-down shoes. Another voice, a man's,
boomed from somewhere inside the darkened bar.
"Billie! That you I see?"
Billie didn't dare believe it was Sam, even though it sounded
like him. But when the broad, khaki-shirted man strode out into
the sunlight and she saw his flashing gold-tooth smile, she gave a
little squeal of joy and twisted away from the black girl's grip.
"Sam!" Billie blurted, "you gotta help ... they got Hanson in jail
and they're looking for me, too ... I got the money to get him
out, but you see I can't because--"
"Hold on, hold on," he laughed. "Let's go around back where
we can talk." He snugged an arm around her shoulders. "Sounds
like one hell of a mess to me."
Sam took her elbow and together they walked around behind the
bar, where his battered Oldsmobile was parked. The black girl
stood watching them for a moment, then shrugged and stumbled back
into the noisy bar. Billie could tell that Sam was a little
boozed up, but he listened, nodding while she told him how Jed
Judson had tried to get Hanson in trouble with the law because of
her age and why she couldn't bail him out herself. It didn't take
him a minute to come up with a plan of his own.
"You give me that money and get down in the back seat. I'll
go spring our uppity brother and drive you two out of this goddamn
town before that deputy pulls any more bullshit."
Billie did as Sam told her. When she felt the car stop
across from the jail and Sam left her alone, she tried to stay
calm, but couldn't help think of what she would do or where she'd
go after Hanson was free again. For one thing, the day's
adventures had proven to Billie that she was too young to be on
her own. She needed somebody like Hanson to protect her, but
realized, too, that the time would surely come when he'd want to
do sexy things to her. That's what made her feel so small and
weak and soft. Billie's heart thumped crazily and she stretched
her legs into a more comfortable position. Maybe he wouldn't want
her, though. Maybe he had another woman somewhere. Maybe Alicia
Shelton. Billie felt a twinge of jealousy and wondered if she was
going crazy. Afraid of Hanson and afraid of losing him. But
there was another, more serious, complication now. Jerrold Butler
had filled her full of cum and she just knew she was knocked up
this time.
Billie-Ann looked down at her slim girl-child's body. She
was so mixed-up ... so very, very tired. Maybe having Hanson to
talk to would make everything all right again. She closed her
eyes and prayed that Sam would be able to get him free.
Chapter 14
"Man, them ofay motherfuckers sure didn't want to turn me
loose, did they?" Hanson laughed as he slid into the front seat of
Sam's Oldsmobile. He felt good, the way only getting out of jail
could make him feel.
"That's a fact," Sam said, "but they can't turn down honest
bail." He started the Olds and backed away from the curb. "Did
you see the look on that deputy's face when you jived him about
the crappy accommodations?"
Hanson slapped his friend's shoulder and laughed again.
"Where'd you get the bail anyway, man? And how'd you know I was
in the goddamn can in the first place?"
Hanson watched Sam smile across at him. "You 'member that
little piece of ankle you brung out to Elsie's yesterday night?"
"You gotta be shittin' me, boy," Hanson said, eyes wide in
disbelief.
Sam pulled a half-empty quart of whiskey from under the seat
and shoved it across to Hanson. "Just drink some of this and
listen. That Billie come wandering round down on Bonner Street in
her short jeans this very afternoon. I'm sittin' up there in the
Club Matinee messin' around half-tore up and see her out there on
the sidewalk." Sam laughed and glittered his gold tooth. "Molly
Gee was trying to hassle her about something', and I heard it and
come out."
Hanson poured his mouth full of the hot booze and washed the
jail taste down his throat. He hadn't figured on Billie-Ann
Wheeler helping Him ... even if she had found out he was in
trouble. As much as he still made up fantasies about her, Hanson
knew she was really only a country white girl so ignorant she
could hardly tell one hole from the other. But what Sam was
telling him now turned his head around. Could shy little Billie-
Ann scrape together his bail somehow and then go find Sam to cut
him loose? Maybe he didn't know her the way he thought he did.
He tilted the bottle up again and slugged hard.
"How'd she know not to come down there to the jail herself?
How come she knew they was lookin' for her to put the heat on me?"
"That Jed fella told her. But why don't you just ask her
yourself?" Sam laughed again and hooked the bottle from Hanson's
hand. "She's squattin' down behind your seat."
Hanson turned just as Billie-Ann jumped up squealing. He
grabbed her around the waist and pulled her squirming into the
front seat with him. "Damn it, baby, am I glad to see you!"
Billie blushed and smiled and lowered her lashes. He could
feel her heat against his side and smell the heady aroma of her
fourteen-year-old body on the verge of growing into sweet
adolescence. Damn it to hell, maybe he could go completely insane
and keep this little white rabbit for his very own. Hanson
yearned for her as much as ever. His cock grew tight in his pants
in its need to be buried in Billie's wet, yielding flesh.
"Hey, Sam, why don't you take' us out to Zeebee Lee's ... you
know, that old voodoo woman they ran out of town a long time ago."
Hanson smelled Billie's hair and kissed it. "I don't know if
she'll remember me but she knows my folks real good."
"Sho, man, ain't nobody gonna be botherin' you out there."
Sam frowned and shook his head. "Wouldn't stay there myself,
though ..."
Hanson grabbed the whiskey bottle back and shoved his
friend's shoulder. "Shit, that's just what you need. Little
black cat bone might keep you out of trouble."
"Had a girl that did a spell on me," Sam said, sucking his
gold tooth. "Couldn't get one up for three months."
Hanson laughed and looked down at Billie. She hadn't said a
thing since he'd pulled her up beside him, but she was as close to
his side as she could get without going through his shirt. Gently
he slipped a hand down along one of her thighs and squeezed it.
The pretty girl made a soft noise in her throat and pushed the
side of her face against his chest.
"Why'd you get me out of jail?" he whispered, pulling her
chin up so she'd have to look at him.
"I w-wanted to," she said back.
"You want to stay with me?"
"Uh-huh," Billie said, nodding; "but I'm scared."
"What you scared of?"
Billie-Ann looked away again and then rubbed a thin finger
over a mole on her knee. Hanson saw the tears well up in her eyes
and before he could say anything to stop her, her cheeks flooded
with hot, salty streaks and she jerked, sobbing, in his arms. "I
... I'm so hungry and tired and ... oh, please don't fuck me
Hanson ... please don't."
Sam choked on a mouthful of whiskey, but Hanson paid no
attention to his friend's mirth. "Don't you be worrying," he told
Billie, patting the side of her sweet bottom, "you ain't gonna be
fucked 'less you wanta be." Then he framed her face with a hand
and made her look up at him again until a smile began to show
through the tears. Suddenly Billie's eyes brightened as if she
were remembering something. Hanson watched her dig some bills out
of her pocket and hold them out.
"Jesus, baby, that's forty bucks!" Carefully he folded the
money into his own pocket. "I'll keep this safe for you ... some
of it might help show Zeebee Lee that we mean to be paying
customers." Hanson was wondering hard where Billie had come up
with all the cash. Enough to get him out of jail and forty more
left over. And she'd pushed the money at him almost as if she
were relieved to be rid of it. But he figured it would be better
to let the questions wait.
Hanson looked over at Sam. "What this little angel needs is
a warm bath and some food in her stomach." He laughed softly and
wiped a hand across his mouth. "If I don't get something to eat
myself I'm gonna back myself into a weird drunk."
"I ain't breaking your arm with the bottle," Sam said with a
woozy smile. "It's that jail you trying to forget."
* * *
Sam drove until they were almost to the county line and the
sun had sunk in the west. It had been so long since Hanson had
been there that he almost didn't recognize the rambling old
rundown farmhouse Sam finally stopped in front of. As a young boy
he'd played around that very same yard while his mother talked for
hours to old Zeebee Lee about all manner of things. Usually his
ma had come away with a charm in her pocket for something. An
ailment that had been troubling her or a cow that wouldn't calve.
Hanson left Billie-Ann sitting on the big front porch and
went inside to find Zeebee Lee. The silver-haired old woman
didn't like it when she peeked through the window and saw that
Billie was a white girl and so young, but after Hanson told her
how the same little white girl had gotten him out of jail, Zeebee
softened. When he pulled a ten-dollar bill from his pocket and
made her take it, everything was set.
"It's just I don't abide no trouble out here," Zeebee Lee
said in her raspy voice. "Had enough trouble with townspeople as
it is."
"Ain't nobody even know we're here," Hanson told her. "And
we won't be around long anyway. Sam's gone back to town to pick
up my old man's truck and take it back to him. Then he's gonna
bring all my things from home." He smiled and put his hand on
Zeebee's shoulder. "We'll be leaving tomorrow for sure."
The wrinkles on the old woman's face formed into what could
pass for a smile. "I go get some food cooked. That girl looks
skinnier than a fence post."
"Don't fatten her up too much, Zeebee; I like 'em that way."
Zeebee Lee studied Hanson's face. "Can she love good as a
black woman?"
He smiled and scuffed one of his boots back and forth on the
floor. "Would you believe me if I told you I don't know yet?"
The old woman clinked her bear-claw necklace and made a
clucking sound in her throat. "Zeebee Lee can help. After supper
I make nice little dolls."
Hanson put out a hand. "Now hold on, Zeebee. I don't want
no gris-gris spells worked on me."
Zeebee shook her head as if she already had her mind made up.
"Dolls make everything fine ... you see," and she turned and
waddled into the kitchen.
Hanson went back out to the porch and took Billie by the
hand. "Come on, honey," he said. "We'll go down to the barn and
draw some water and get us a bath. Zeebee Lee gonna have us
something to eat in a little while."
Still silent, Billie let him lead her across the yard. She
had hardly said ten words since he'd gotten out of jail, but he
knew it was only because she'd made the decision to leave home and
wasn't used to it yet. Every time he looked at her she drooped
her long-lashed lids and blushed a little. God, how he wanted to
get her into bed with him. Somehow she looked even younger than
when he'd first met her, and her forlorn little-girl-lost manner
made her that much more desirable. For the first time since he'd
been obsessed by the lovely fourteen-year-old, he had to admit
there was something about her he loved. Yes, he was starting to
love Billie.
In a small storeroom in the barn there was a battered
galvanized tub. He filled it from the well just outside, then
brought back a couple of buckets of boiling water from the house
that Zeebee Lee had made ready for them. He felt Billie watching
him as he readied the bath and tested it with his hand.
"Just right," he said smiling at her. "Zeebee give us a bar
of soap, too."
Billie rubbed her narrow palms on her jeans and looked
worried, so Hanson walked over to her and pulled her close against
him. Billie's adorable pubescent breasts heaved against his chest
as if she were scared to death.
"Listen to me, little girl," he whispered.
Billie looked up wide-eyed.
"We gonna be living together from now on, right?"
She nodded.
"So way I figure, sharing the bath water is a good start."
Billie smiled then and started undoing her belt. Hanson
pretended to be busy with his own clothes, but couldn't help
watching when the pretty girl slipped her shorts down over her
willowy legs. Gracefully she bent her knees and dipped to step
out of each leg hole. Hanson clenched his jaw tight. Next came
her panties, and her face pinkened softly, but she stepped out of
them, too, and straightened to undo the snap of her top. Hanson
was out of his pants and shorts now, and though he'd been afraid
that his erection might frighten Billie more than she already was,
there was nothing he could do about it. Then he skinned out of
his shirt and dropped it on the growing pile of their shucked
clothes. Billie was still having trouble getting the catch loose
on her top, her arms raised as she struggled with it. Hanson
could see where the tight material was pulled over her breasts and
wondered if he could trust himself to get it loose without
touching her. When he walked over, Billie turned her back so he
could help. There was nothing to it really, but he pretended the
trouble was more complicated so he'd have a chance to breathe in
Billie's loveliness. Looking down the back of her body stirred
his loins wildly. The tiny waist seemed smaller than ever and her
narrow hips were like before, curving smoothly out only enough to
show she was female. Only inches away from the small of her back,
his cock pulsed ready, and he longed to press it against the firm
tan skin. Instead, he let his eyes follow the perfectly straight
line of her crack between the plump pink cheeks, then down the
unbroken sweep of her girlish thighs and childishly thin calves.
Billie was standing slightly splay-footed and Hanson found himself
adoring the way her thin toes spread out against the wood floor.
When he knew he couldn't pretend the clasp was caught any longer,
he let the top fall forward over her shoulders and off. Billie
started to move away, but he put his hands on her shoulders and
turned her to him. The top of her head was chest high, and she
had to look up ... her wide, wet mouth open slightly. Each
freckle on her cute nose was a wonder of perfection, and when he
noticed that her silky hair was curtained over one pink-nippled
breast Hanson had to close his eyes for a second in thankfulness
to the gods that he knew were watching over him. Moving slowly so
he wouldn't scare her, Hanson curved one arm under the backs of
her knees and cradling her body with the other, he picked her up
and lowered her into the tub.
"Hanson," she murmured, almost too quietly for him to hear.
It was the first time she'd said a word in hours and he leaned
close to her face, smiling.
"What is it, baby?"
She lowered her eyes for a second, then looked at him and
said, "I ... I love you, Hanson."
The water in the tub swished as he pulled her face to his and
let their lips touch. Billie didn't resist but opened her mouth
to him instead as he let their tongues play gingerly for a moment.
Then Hanson stepped into the big tub behind her--his chest to
Billie's back--and started to scrub her shoulder blades with a bar
of soap.
"Ohh, that feels so nice," she breathed, pressing back
against his fingers.
His rigid cock was pressed upward between her ribs and his
belly, and when he moved once and it ground against her, Billie
didn't show that she was bothered. Hanson put his arms around her
lovely middle and scrubbed the girl's flat belly until she moaned
and pushed her back harder against his chest. Carefully, he moved
his hands lower, tangling fingers into the sparse fur of her pubic
hair. Billie flopped her head backward onto his shoulder, panting
lightly.
"I'm trying to say there ain't nothing wrong with it," she
said, voice full of emotion.
"There ain't," Hanson whispered into one small, perfect ear.
Then he sucked the tight lobe between his teeth and nibbled until
Billie straightened her long legs against the end of the metal tub
and shivered from head to foot. The feel of her palms flattened
against the muscles of his thighs was something he'd never
experienced so completely ... not in all his times with beautiful
women.
Hanson tried to cool down then and together they soaked
lazily ... Billy taking her time exploring the muscled ridges of
Hanson's shoulders and chest with her excruciatingly innocent
fingers while he watched the expressions dance and flicker across
her face. There was a whole world of hassles ahead of them-
problems to be solved, things to be talked over, but for the
present he knew nothing was more important than their discovery of
each other.
Now the two of them were facing in the tub, and he thought he
saw a question in Billie's eyes. She had been having a hard time
keeping her gaze from the stiff jut of his erect cock as it bobbed
just under the surface of the soap-clouded water.
"You want to look at it better?" he asked.
Billie sucked her bottom lip and went pink under her freckled
tan, but her eyes never left his. Slowly she nodded yes. Hanson
raised himself in the tub so that his cock pushed out of the
water. Billie-Ann gave a little gasp as the water trickled off
his smooth skin.
"Every time I see it, it looks bigger," she said.
"Reason it's so big now is because you make it that way,"
Hanson said. "Go ahead; touch it if you want." He was amazed at
how close he was to coming, and all he'd really done was press
himself against Billie's loveliness. But then he'd spent many
hours dreaming of her, and now that she was squatting in the water
only inches away, it was almost too much for one man to bear. He
was sitting tailor fashion on his heels and when Billie's
fingertips touched the taut swollen glans, Hanson let out a
lungful of air and leaned back against his end of the tub. Gently
she encircled it with her whole hand and squeezed.
"Gosh, that makes me feel so funny inside," she murmured.
"To have my hand on you." He saw her face cloud and she wrinkled
her brow. "Maybe I better not ..."
Hanson caught her wrist before she could pull away. "Don't
be thinkin' it's wrong. No matter what anybody ever told you."
"Maybe it is, though," she said. "Wrong, I mean."
"No chance in hell," Hanson told her, then laughed at his
choice of words. But Billie's arm relaxed and she left it against
his throbbing meat. Once more the smooth skin of her fingers
circled him, tightening and loosening experimentally against the
steeliness. His foreskin was stretched back clear of the glans
and as Billie tested and pulled, she saw how the skin could cover
some of the glistening ridged crown.
"I didn't know it would do that!" she gasped.
"Haven't you ever seen a boy before?" Hanson asked, noticing
right away that his question had embarrassed her. "Aw, come on,
every girl's seen at least one. Your brother maybe or some guy
..."
Billie nodded. "But not close-up."
Their eyes met and both had to laugh. Hanson was sure then
that she'd be all right ... that with his tender urging Billie
would become a sexual dream come true. He took another heavy
breath and felt his sphincter tighten as the turbulent pressure in
his bails filled him with a pleasant and expectant ache.
Chapter 15
Sitting there in the tub with Hanson Allen made Billie keep
having to remind herself that she wasn't dreaming. Somehow she'd
managed to do everything right. The deputy hadn't found her,
Hanson was free again, and the two of them were together ...
taking a bath! If Billie had known all this was going to happen
to her a week before, she never would have believed it, but there
was something about the way Hanson was so gentle and understanding
and sweet that made her feel free around him. It had been like
that from the beginning ... when he'd made her laugh about getting
a ride from a "colored boy." And now she was wet and naked in
front of him with her fingers wrapped tightly around his brown
cock. If it seemed a wrong thing to do, the memory of Nora's ugly
warnings was faint and unreal now. Billie knew she hated her
stepmother and so it seemed only right that she should hate what
the old woman had wanted her to believe. Yet she was still afraid
of Hanson's masculinity ... scared of the very thing she held.
"You're beautiful," Hanson said, and she felt her body tingle
to his words. Once again she moved her fingers around the strange
soft-hardness of his cock.
She had been too shy to tell him about Lonnie or about the
dirty pictures she had and especially about the time she'd watched
Jed Judson make himself come. But even with all that had happened
to her, Billie still didn't know much. One moment she felt brave
enough to go ahead and do something she thought might please
Hanson, and the next second she'd stop, afraid it would be going
too far. More and more, though, she was sure he liked her to move
the loose skin that covered the firm shaft of his cock. When she
did, he breathed funny and tightened his grip on the sides of the
tub. She wanted so much to make him happy. Then she remembered
the way she'd seen Jed work his own cock ... maybe if she touched
Hanson in the same way it would make him come, too. Then he'd
feel good without fucking her. Billie moved the skin down clear
of his cock's crown and stared in wonder as the already huge head
pumped fuller right before her eyes. If she'd ever been sure of
anything in her life, Billie was certain that Hanson Allen's penis
would never fit into her narrow, immature body. She knew she
loved him, but ...
"Billie ... your hands are so damn soft," Hanson said, his
voice raggedly.
"Is it all right?" she quavered. "What I'm doing?"
"Oh, baby, you must be kidding ..."
His words made her smile and she pumped the circle of her
hand a little harder ... up and down ... up and down, feeling his
cock surge with blood, throb strongly against her fingers. She
was growing excited by the changes that took place in Hanson's
body as she played with him. His chest heaved up and down as if
he were running uphill, and the tendons in his groin tightened and
loosened in a slow, steady rhythm. With him sitting cross-legged,
she had the bottoms of her feet pressed tight against his shins
and every so often his whole body seemed to shudder against her.
She was a real part of Hanson's excitement, and knowing that made
her own folds and nubbins go oily under the surface of the water.
There was something else about Hanson's beautiful brown body that
fascinated her ... the loose-hanging sac that drooped down under
the base of his cock and held the eggs that Billie knew were full
of baby makings. Finally she decided that it wouldn't hurt Hanson
if she just touched the wrinkled bag. The eggs looked so much
bigger than little Lonnie's had, and Billie wondered if they were
heavier, too. When she cupped a palm under them the water was too
buoyant for her really to feel the weight, but she cradled them
anyhow, giving a tender squeeze while she pumped with her other
hand. Hanson made a strange sound and strained his hips up even
further out of the water. Then a tiny spout of milky paste jumped
straight up from the tip of his cock. A hungry little tickle went
through Billie's body while she watched the next jet of cum arc
into the air and plop thickly into the water. It thrilled her
wildly to know that the spongy balls in her hand were emptying out
their store of seed, and she had to sigh. Billie stated moving
her hand faster on his cock to see if that would make more stuff
come out. One after another the slick, hot curds frothed from the
tiny hole and coated her fingers until with a final gasp of
pleasure Hanson let his body sink once more into the water. He
looked at her with a slack, panting grin.
"How good did it feel?" she asked, wrinkling up her nose with
an impudent eagerness to understand what men were all about.
"Good!" he laughed, and pulled her damp face close to kiss
each cheek, "but not as good as it would've been inside you."
Billie-Ann shook her head and picked up the bar of soap
again. Somehow she had to make him understand. The suds dripped
over her nipples and down her stomach. Billie didn't really
understand herself. It wasn't as if she were a virgin or
anything.
Lonnie Crumpers had managed to push his small cock into her
body and as disturbing as the experience had been, Jerrold Butler,
the banker's son, had plumbed her quite a bit deeper. But part of
her fear, Billie knew, was that Hanson really was bigger. His
dusky-brown penis looked at least two inches longer than
Jerrold's, and thicker around. At the same time her childish
little hole still felt tender and delicate ... much like her
budding breasts.
Hanson made her stand up close to him then while he poured
another bucket of lukewarm water over their heads to rinse the
soap off. His cock was still pretty big, even though it drooped,
but when she moved a thigh against it, it felt rubbery and limp.
"How long does it take till it's ..." but the question she
was about to ask made her blush and she stopped.
Hanson was laughing fit to kill. "Why you want to know?"
Billie gave him a shy look. "I was just curious ..."
He hooked a towel off a nail on the wall and slapped her
bottom with it. She danced away giggling ... almost bumping into
Zeebee Lee, who'd silently come into the room with two white gowns
slung over one arm. Billie wrapped her towel around her body, and
Hanson did, too, but the old woman didn't pay any attention to
their nakedness.
"I brung something for you' to wear while I wash your
things," she said, and as soon as she'd scooped the dirty clothes
off the floor she was gone. Hanson gave Billie a smile and a
shrug and they helped each other get into the strange long gowns.
Billie' found that hers reached past her ankles and cinched
just under her breasts. When she twirled, the gown billowed out.
It was only made of cotton, but she liked the way it hung on her
slim, naked body. She felt fresh and clean enclosed in the cool
material ... as if she were beginning a new part of her life. "I
think they're nice," she said, "and look, here's a little charm
sewed on."
Hanson was smiling because his own gown was too short.
"People are always giving Zeebee Lee things they don't want, and
she never throws nothin' away. No telling where she got these
from." Then he took her hand. "Come on, let's go see if Hannah's
got us something to eat."
* * *
All through supper, Zeebee Lee didn't say much. Most of the
time she just eyed Billie-Ann and Hanson and gummed a biscuit.
But Billie was too hungry to think about the funny old woman one
way or the other. There was chicken and grits and greens and
plenty of goat's milk to wash everything down with.
When they were through, Zeebee showed Hanson the old mattress
she'd put down on the porch and gave him some blankets and sheets
and told him to go make the bed up. Billie knew as soon as they
were alone that the old woman wanted to say something to her and
she couldn't help being a little scared.
"Come here, honey; old Zeebee won't hurt you," the black
woman said, motioning with a gnarled finger. Billie came over
obediently, her hands clasped in front of her. Zeebee's fingers
felt her hips and waist and tested the flesh on her arms. Then
the voodoo woman pulled a tiny amber vial from a pocket, opened it
and wet a fingertip. "This good magic," she whispered. "Make
Hanson love you up like a cyclone."
"But I don't w-want ..." Billy stammered, trying to think of
a way to tell Zeebee Lee that she wasn't going to let Hanson do
anything like that to her.
"Shhhh," the woman said, putting out her hand. Before Billie
could stumble back, she felt the wetness under her ear as Zeebee
rubbed the potion onto her skin. Oh, well, she thought, it was
all superstition anyway, and when the old woman tried to wet her
other ear, Billie let her.
When she joined Hanson on the sleeping porch, he quickly
finished tucking in the blanket and stood up. The sun was
starting to go down and golden rays of light came through the vine
trellis behind them. Billie took off her sandals and dropped
tiredly to the mattress. The pillow felt cool and good against
her face.
"I can't sleep in this thing," Hanson said, and pulled his
gown off over his head and lay down next to her.
Billie noticed that his cock was thick and straight again,
but after their games in the bath she had a feeling that she could
trust Hanson not to do anything she didn't want him to. After
all, he'd given her his word on it earlier.
When he stretched to get comfortable Billie could sense the
warmness of his brown body next to her and she felt that it would
be nice to snuggle close ... to feel the protection of another
person holding her. Of course, she didn't let herself, because of
what she'd learned about boys in the past week. Billie was
beginning to understand that a girl could make them go crazy with
just a touch or a look, and she didn't want to make Hanson go
crazy ... not with that long, thick shaft he carried between his
muscular thighs.
"Don't be lying there worrying now," Hanson told her, his
hand brushing over her belly. "I'll let you sleep tonight. Then
he turned over and bunched a pillow under his head.
Billie felt relief mingled with a strange tension as the
day's events tried to crowd into her exhausted mind and then faded
away. There was so much she had to think about ... to sort out
... but now only sleep seemed to matter and she closed her eyes
and let go ...
Billie didn't know how long she'd dozed before the dream
worked its way into her mind, but it was scary right from the
beginning. She was a child again, like when her daddy had been at
home. But she wasn't at home. She was alone in a jungle. Huge
green plants seemed to close in around her as she ran, her long
white gown flying out behind. Overhanging branches caught at her
hair and thorns scraped her legs, but still she ran, until
bursting through a thicket, she felt the cloth of the gown catch.
Before she could free it, the material shredded in her hands and
she was naked. Now Billie sensed a new fear as if her being
without clothes had set into motion other dangers. Some noise
ahead made her stop. On the ground, crawling in the trees,
everywhere, were snakes. Snakes with complicated designs ...
snakes with jewels in their eyes ... hundreds of snakes. Billie
screamed and ran back in the direction from where she'd come. She
stumbled into the center of a hazy open place. A man stood in the
mist and immediately she ran to him, her child legs pumping.
"Daddy!" she sobbed, hugging his thighs ... struggling to climb
into his arms. "Oh, Daddy!" Then there was the comforting feeling
of strong hands against her back and she felt her chest close
against his own bare chest. But the feeling of security was being
replaced by a sensation more turbulent and impassioned. Her body
felt charged with gentle thrills as if an electric current were
being run through it. As she wiggled closer in her daddy's
embrace she realized with a sudden shock that the man wasn't her
daddy at all!
"It's okay, Billie," Hanson was saying, patting the side of
her face with his hand.
And she knew as she fought her way out of the dream that the
bare chest was real, and the man was real, too! She was lying on
top of Hanson, her gown tangled up under her arms. "How ... how
did ..."
"Believe me, pretty girl, I don't know. I was just laying
here on my back, stone asleep and all of a sudden you were
climbing all over me, moaning and crying like a pack of wolves was
about to eat you."
Billie felt Hanson's hands pressing' against her back just
like the hands in the dream. She was still trembling from the
realness of it, and his embrace felt good even though she knew she
shouldn't stay there too long. The breeze soughed through the
vines at the end of the porch while Hanson stroked her back and
sides with his hands. It was as nice a feeling as anything she'd
ever experienced, and she let her head rest in the hollow of his
neck and tiredly closed her eyes again. Her thighs were around
Hanson's hips, and as he brushed her skin, she felt his fingers
touch the soft places behind her knees. A delicious warm flush
filled her and she sighed. He was so good to her ... nobody had
ever been that good. Then his hands were rubbing and caressing
her higher until she felt the shivery sensation of his palms
gliding across her bottom. It was feeling too good ...
"Hanson ..." she mumbled against his neck.
But Hanson went on patting and holding her. She could feel
him following the crack of her firm bottom down between her thighs
until he was tickling through the fine curls of her cunt hair.
His arms were wrapped over her ass and the warmth of his touch
made Billie shiver. It was nice lying on top of his strong, warm
body, and in a sleepy daze she realized that Hanson's holding her
made her feel secure ... just like in the dream when she'd thought
her daddy was hugging her. Billie squirmed a little against
Hanson's chest not so much afraid any more even though her tiny
nipples had pushed out from the softly fleshed rosettes and were
tingling with the friction of rubbing against his chest. She
loved Hanson and that meant she had to trust him, too. His hands
cradled the sides of her head, lifting it until her lips brushed
against his. When he wet her mouth with his tongue, Billie let
him. Their spit flowed and mingled together and he kissed her
harder until the delicate skin of her inner mouth slipped over his
teeth. Billie gave a whimper of delight. Why wasn't she scared
... why wasn't she stopping it?
"I love you, Billie-Ann," he breathed into her ear.
"Oh, Hanson, will you always take care of me?" she sighed.
"That's what I mean to do, girl."
Hanson's hands touched her back and hips and inner thighs
again and she couldn't keep from tightening her legs a little on
the outside of his. He was stroking her feverish little cunny so
softly that it made her feel like a pampered kitten, and when he
kissed her neck again she almost started purring. Of course, she
knew her cuntlips were swollen and hot, but he was being so
tender. Like he really didn't mean to do anything more. Besides,
it felt wonderful. Billie rocked her hips ever so slightly and
her inner surfaces rubbed together like hot satin. She was much
more buttery than she'd thought, and knowing this made her wonder
if she was doing right. Billie tried to clear her sleep-numbed
mind. Everything seemed so shuddery and tingly and nice that it
made her toes point. Hanson's lips caught the lobe of her ear and
made her try to remember why she shouldn't let him. She felt him
pulling her gown the rest of the way off her arms but found
herself too weak and breathless to say no.
"What are you doing to' me?" she asked.
"Doesn't it feel better not to have that thing all wound
around your neck?"
Billie nodded. It did feel better, of course. As she rested
against Hanson again she was aware of a light pressure on the
underside of her mound ... something roundish and firm. In her
dreamy, half-awake state she thought at first that it was Hanson's
hand but now with his arms hugging her back she realized it
couldn't be. She gave a little gasp and stiffened in his arms,
but Hanson's fingers touched her feverish cuntlips and parted them
slightly. Billie felt the roundish something moving between her
dewy petals. "Hanson?"
"It's okay, Billie-honey ... any time you want me to quit,
I'll quit."
Billie tried to think straight but a funny smell that at
first had been faint was now actually entrancing her. It was a
musky, sharp scent that she hadn't even noticed until her body had
gotten damp with excitement, and now as her sweat mingled with
Hanson's it grew even stronger. The potion! The potion Zeebee
Lee had touched to her ears that she'd claimed would make Hanson
love her like a cyclone! Billie drew a panicky breath, but the
smell swirled into her lungs and made her feel strangely giddy.
She was more aware than ever of Hanson's fingers spreading the
folds of her cunt, stretching the pretty place wide as he pushed
in the flared head of his cock.
"Hanson, we can't ... please ... we just can't."
But the fullness at the beginning of her vagina sent out
shimmers of warmth that lulled and enticed her along with the
pungent perfume. A stretching pain in the moist center of her
mound brought Billie out of her grogginess for an instant, and she
realized what she'd been allowing to happen. Frantic, she pulled
her legs up and pushed against Hanson's chest with both hands.
"No!" she gasped, trying to rock her hips away. Instantly,
Hanson's strong hands hooked over her pelvis and forced her
wriggling bottom down. The stretching pain grew sharper.
"Oh, God!" she whined, snapping her body up and backward in a
last wild try to free herself before it was too late, but Hanson
reached an arm behind one of Billie's flailing legs and bent it up
close to her side. Then he rolled her over and she felt the
sudden weight of his big body crushing her down into the mattress.
The pain at her groin jolted through her and she felt a sudden
fullness such as she'd never dreamed possible. Her flesh was
being forced out around something too big for her hole.
"It won't fit," she sobbed, clutching Hanson's shoulders in
terror. "It won't! It won't!" But Billie could feel the large
barbed glans of the cock pressing ahead, plowing her delicate
tissue open. Miraculously, it was fitting, but she knew it was
changing her insides forever.
* * *
Hanson knew that he'd forced Billie-Ann somewhat, especially
when she'd rebelled from the first pain and he'd had to jab
through the contracted ring of muscles and into her fresh, jelly-
soft vagina. As much as he wanted to be gentle, it excited him
when Billie had tried to free herself from his staff with her
frenzied squirming. But the fucking had to be. After feeling her
thin body on top of him, he knew he wouldn't have been able to go
back to sleep. And there was some damned scent around, too.
Billie was still resisting but more weakly than at first.
With half his throbbing length inside her, he knew she would like
it soon enough. The girl's flesh was opening and stretching to
accommodate his cock, and he could feel the flow of her juices
dampening their organs. When he pressed his cock hard into her
again, gaining another inch, Billie wiggled and plunged her slim
bottom in a wild, almost vicious, way. Though she was securely
harpooned and had obviously abandoned any real hope of escaping,
she was still full of fight. Even Pamela Whittier with her high-
class perversions had never shown such spirit. Hanson trembled
with his passion, kissing and inhaling the lovely aroma of
Billie's skin mixed with the other heavy musk he couldn't
identify. Whatever it was it made his head buzz with every breath
and caused his cock to grow even harder.
Billie bent and unbent her legs spasmodically, flopping them
against the mattress, then rubbing the insides of her feet along
his stretched legs. Hanson had never guessed how fantastic such a
slender girl's form would feel under him, and as he cradled her
pubescent body in his arms and tucked his powerful hips under once
more, he knew he'd be spoiled for any other woman after this. The
sensation of those skinny tan arms sliding over his back at one
moment ... trembling weakly against his sides at another, made him
want to shout with joy. And his excitement quickened, too, when
Billie's long fingers grasped his shoulders with a frenzied
tremble only to dance off down his back, touching his moving hips
while she babbled confusedly ... her mouth wet against his neck.
"Ohhh, Hanson ... stop! I'm too little ... We can't ... oh
... Ohhh ... I love you."
Already he was surprised that Billie's cunt could take so
much of him. Hanson was moving into her slowly now so that it
wouldn't hurt if he came up against the end of her hot little
tube, since he knew by the way Billie's breath rushed against his
skin in labored gasps that she was beyond reasoning. For the
first time in her life probably, the young girl's body had
rejected the limiting grasp of her frightened mind. Whatever
dangers she feared, whatever guilt feelings had influenced her had
been swept away. When he pushed up on his elbows, Billie
convulsed and writhed under him, her flat belly heaving wildly,
her strong, lithe hips rocking forward and back on the length of
his cock ... still firmly embedded in the luscious, steamy slick
of her insides. And as her body grew hotter and her heart pumped
more blood to the ravaged tissues of her cunt, Hanson felt the
tender tube relax some of its resistance. The flooding girl honey
dripped from her tissues, wetting their tangled pubic hair with
heavy, thick droplets.
In the dim beginnings of the dawn he could see the lovely sex
flush on her cheeks. Billie tossed her head and bit down on her
lower lip with an impassioned whimper of happiness. Fourteen
years of vibrant, tumultuous female was twitching wondrously in
his embrace, thrusting her sharp hips against him, learning to dig
her short fingernails into the skin of his back. Hanson plunged
his fingers into the soft swirls of her brown hair and for an
instant Billie's long lashes fluttered and came open.
"It's too late!" she gasped, and Hanson felt her back give a
sharp jerk. Then another. Hungrily she bit his shoulder and neck
and face, arms trembling from her ravenous clutch of his back.
Hanson slipped his cock half-out of her seeping hole, then moved
forward again, trying to bury the final inch. Unbelievably, he
felt his hilt bump tightly against Billie's soaked pubes and only
then did his tip touch the tiniest knot of something deep, deep
within her. Never in his life had he fucked such a sweet jelly
roll!
"Gossshhh," she babbled, grinding her turgid clit against
him. "Gosh damn!"
Hanson felt her teeth again ... harder this time, and
Billie's legs went crazy, drumming the mattress and floor, heels
punching his roiling, humping ass. He'd never known a girl to
come with such wild abandon. Billie licked him with her tongue,
snuffling against his cheek and pulled his body down hard against
her as she rutted. When he knew that the stormy spasms had
completely invaded her squirming body, Hanson fiercely kissed her
spit-streaked mouth and felt his own juices jump to meet hers.
With a cry of love, he rocked his cock furiously in the wet,
feather-softness of her deepest folds. Billie lunged and sobbed,
curving her narrow back so she could brush her firm-nippled tits
against his chest. Hanson felt the fluttery caress of her cunt
tighten on his bursting glans just as his cock spouted with
scalding seed. He choked and whispered against Billie's neck as
he rubbed his cock against her softest place ... feeling each
aching jet of sap as it sprayed against the young girl's womb.
Slowly, gently the two of them wound down, kissing small
hurts and enjoying the relaxing tremors of their muscles. Outside
in the yard a rooster crowed. In the henhouse there was a
scrambling and clucking and the rooster crowded again ... louder.
Hanson roiled his body sideways, careful to keep Billie joined to
him. She moaned, mumbled something soft he couldn't understand
and wrapped two warm arms around his neck. Then Hanson Allen
slept the sleep of true contentment.
* * *
Billie's first thought when she drifted up from her slumber
was that she felt gloriously at ease with her body ... like she
knew how it worked now. But she didn't open her eyes just yet.
The fullness in her crotch was still there ... not as huge ... but
there all the same. She breathed in the natural scent of Hanson
Allen's body and held it deep, wishing she could absorb it ...
make it a part of her. Then she shifted her pelvis to one side
and immediately felt the soreness. In the musky love mess of
their fucking, Hanson's relaxed cock began to slip out, but Billie
tightened the mouth of her vagina and clenched him tight. Her man
gave a moan and went on sleeping.
Billie let the sensation-charged experience she'd had only
hours before flood back, smiling at the memory of a savage nibble
she'd given Hanson ... almost crying when she recalled the loving,
wet caress of his mouth on hers. Only then did she realize that
in the beginning she'd not wanted it to happen at all. It was the
dream that had started everything, and then the scent of Zeebee
Lee's potion ...
Billie pushed herself up. "Zeebee Lee!"
When his cock slithered damply from the sweet warm hole it'd
slept in, Hanson rolled groggily onto his back and opened his
eyes. "What's wrong, baby?"
"It's that Zeebee," Billie blurted. "She made it happen.
She worked a ... charm or something."
Hanson pulled her playfully down into the circle of his
muscular arms. Billie shivered excitedly to feel his potent
strength. "You ain't sorry, are you?" he breathed into her ear.
Her frown mellowed and turned into a smile. "No," she cooed
back. "Not ever, ever, ever!"
It was then that she saw the thing dangling from a string
almost directly over their bed. A soft morning breeze came
through the porch and made the object swing and turn. Billie
screamed.
Cursing, Hanson stood and broke the string from a nail in the
ceiling. Then he collapsed back down on the mattress laughing, as
the two crudely made dolls tumbled from his hand ... still locked
in a passionate embrace. Billie picked the tangled dolls up and
stared, hardly believing what her eyes said was true. One doll
had light brown sewing thread for hair--the same color as hers--
and Zeebee Lee had colored in blue eyes and a freckled complexion,
too. There was even a tiny gown covering the straw body, and she
noticed with a cry that it was carefully bunched around the girl-
doll's neck. The figure of the boy had been hastily carved from
dark brown wood and colored with black hair. A wooden cock jutted
from between the stick legs and had been forced up into the straw
of the Billie-doll's torso. She heard Hanson chuckle at her
amazed look, but Billie wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. It
was all so ... weird.
"Looks like I had a little help last night," Hanson said.
"Oh, Hanson, it scares me."
"Let's keep it," he said, squeezing her shoulder. "That way
we can always be sure we're gonna make out all right."
Billie smiled and then seeing his mischievous eyes, started
to laugh, too. "It does look kind of like us." Hanson took the
dolls from her and studied them. Then he pulled the figure of
Billie free from the boy-doll's body and turned it upside down.
Billie-Ann's face reddened when he pushed her doll's face down on
the little wooden cock.
"Hanson'." she scolded.
"Just Seeing if this thing works."
Billie tried to hide her embarrassment by pretending she was
a little irked, but when she looked at Hanson there was a funny
expression behind his smile. For a reason she couldn't explain,
she felt her eyes drawn to her man's crotch. His love-coated
penis was stiff and thick. Immediately she remembered the dirty
pictures Jed had given her and the one of the girl putting her
mouth around ...
Once more she looked up into Hanson's brown eyes, and her
aching little cunt gave a twinge of contraction. Doing that with
her mouth might banish once and for all the childish fears Nora
had made her grow up with. It would be a break with the past and
a step into the future with the man she loved ... if only she
could find the courage to start.
"I think I w-want to," she said, knowing that Hanson would
understand what she meant.
"Only if you're sure," he whispered.
Billie slipped down between his thighs, grasped the throbbing
brown cock with both bands and closed her eyes. Then she touched
her lips to the hot, tight skin of the tip and when the dizzy
feeling of experiencing something completely new had passed, she
opened her jaws and filled her mouth with Hanson's penis. At
first Billie didn't know exactly what might feel best but there
was nothing hard about sucking and when she sucked, her pink
tongue just naturally darted back and forth against the underside
of the tender shaft. The sounds of pleasure Hanson made told her
she was doing right. There was the musky odor of both their fucky
tastes in Billie's nose and it made her cunt thrill.
She wanted to try different ways of licking, but before she
could, Hanson stiffened and petted his hands gently over her head.
"You're gonna strip me dry this time," he gasped.
Billie dug her tongue around the ridge of his glans and
sanded the underside of the tip, because that seemed to be the
most sensitive place. It scared her a little to know that the
thick cream was already on its way out of Hanson's body, but
before she let herself gag, Billie steadied his length and plunged
her head up and down with a steady rhythm. She felt her lips and
tongue following the rubbery firmness and heard the wet, sliding
sound. It was exciting her a lot, especially when her mouth had
to widen around the warm, smooth cockhead. Hanson's hands
trembled against her neck and Billie promised herself that she
wouldn't take her mouth away until her man was finished.
The first jet of semen sprayed with such force that Billie
felt some of it splash hotly against the back of her throat.
Before she had a chance to think, she gulped it down. Then came
flood after flood of the salt-sour cum, overflowing her cupped
tongue and slickening her teeth. She swallowed steadily with a
wet, clicking sound in her nose as the heavy stuff went down. Her
sick feeling faded. Instead, she felt joy at the pleasure she was
giving her writhing lover. Hanson whispered his love hotly and
when finally she'd nursed the last steaming droplet from his
tubes, he pulled her body up over him and kissed her cum-hot
mouth.
For an hour they rested. Then, while Hanson had started to
fold up their covers, Billie stood up and immediately felt
something wet and warm on her inner thigh. When she looked, a
thin streak of red reached almost to one knee and she knew why her
breasts had been sorer than usual.
"Hanson ... my period! It's really started this time!"
He turned and grinned. "Be damned if my little girl ain't
growed into a woman right before my eyes."
Billie ran into his arms, not bothering yet to staunch her
monthly wound. She was happy in her growing up, but even happier
in her secret knowledge that Jerrold Butler's seed had not found a
home. Maybe someday she could tell Hanson just exactly how she'd
really gotten him out of jail. When she'd fixed her proud leak of
blood, Billie curved herself into his arms once again.
"But where are we gonna go?" she sighed. "We can't live
around here."
"Don't fret about it, baby," he said. "All we gotta do is
get Sam to drive us to Louiston and buy some tickets on that
hound." He laughed just thinking about it. "There's places west
of here you wouldn't believe. Places with pretty sailboats and,
big bridges and people that don't care if you're white and got a
bunch of freckles and I'm a black man."
"It sounds beautiful," Billie said, knowing that she'd never
have to be lonely or afraid again. She turned her duffel bag
around to find a fresh blouse, and the packet of pictures Jed had
given to her smacked onto the floor. Hanson picked them up before
Billie could hide them away again.
"What's all this?" he chuckled, looking quickly at each pose.
Billie was petrified with embarrassment. "Nothing ...
really. I ..." But before she could stammer out some stupid
explanation, Hanson was pressing her hips against his body.
"Shit, I know more positions than these," he said, kissing
her hair. "And we can spend the rest of our lives doin' them."
"Oh, Hanson, I love you so much!" Billie sighed, rubbing her
soft white fingers against her man's brown back ... yearning
already for the next time she could open her young thighs to his
cock.
The End
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