The young girl – fourteen, freckled-faced, and with a surprisingly mature body for one her age – was dressed in skin-tight white shorts and was braless beneath her powder blue blouse. She lay crosswise on the bed, and stared up at an older girl who was standing before a mirror and running a comb through long blonde hair.
"But aren't you excited?" Marylou asked, shivering in vicarious enjoyment. "I mean… I would be! After all, your wedding is only two days away, and then you and Dick go to that groovy castle place in Ireland for your honeymoon. Why, you must be excited."
"Of course I am, silly." Sue's voice was patient with her cousin. "I'm happy and excited. But I'm also calm." That last statement was a lie, but Marylou couldn't know it. The younger girl couldn't see the turmoil Sue felt, the oppressive feeling of apprehension that bordered on fear.
"It must be wonderful to be really in love and be old enough to get married… and wake up in bed next to your husband." Marylou put a hand to her mouth and giggled. "I mean my husband. If I had a husband."
"Marylou?" Sue's voice had just a bit of shock in it; she gazed in mock severity at the girl and began weaving a thick braid into her hair.
Marylou's face was cupped in her hands; elbows were planted on the bedspread. The girl obviously decided to throw all caution to the winds with her next remark. "Well, isn't a bed better than a back seat?"
"Marylou!" Sue threw down the comb and spun around to face the girl. "What are you talking about?"
"What else? Sex?"
Marylou had the bit in her teeth and was not to be denied. She abruptly sat up and curled her bare legs beneath her – sitting buddha-like on the bed. "If I tell you something, will you keep it a secret?"
"I don't want to hear it," Sue said, emphatically. She was pretty sure of the drift of the conversation; this was nothing to discuss with a girl only fourteen. She hadn't even talked to her mother about it, even though the older woman had hinted broadly that they must have a conversation before the wedding.
Marylou looked toward the closed door of the bedroom as if suspecting someone were lurking outside at the keyhole. Then she lowered her voice and said, "I know you won't snitch." She grinned conspiratorially. "I'm not a virgin, you know."
The news momentarily shocked Sue, although if she were really honest with herself, the information did not come as a surprise. Marylou showed all the signs of becoming a swinger, and she already had the build of a 22-year-old bikini model.
The girl continued almost proudly, "I haven't been one for almost a year. It was Petey Barnard. After the final football game last October… after he was appointed head cheerleader. We had a bottle of beer and it made me dizzy, and then he… began feeling me. And, ah… asked me to feel him. Then he got in the backseat of his car and… ah…"
"I don't want to hear another word." Sue's voice brooked no disobedience. "Not another word." She shook her head in dismay. "I'm shocked at you, Marylou, really shocked. You're either fibbing or you just blithely gave away your virginity. Just like that," she snapped her fingers. "Just like you were giving away old clothes or something. I think you'd have more respect for yourself."
Marylou merely shrugged and her breasts jiggled with the motion. She replied, somewhat defiantly, "It was fun. It felt good. And I've let him do it five other times, too. We're going steady. We love each other. And everyone in school does it. Why not?"
"Why not? Well, I'll tell you why not. What does a fourteen year old know about love? What if your parents found out? What if the police discovered you and Petey in the back seat when you were… you were? What if you get pregnant as a result of it?"
Marylou snorted. "Oh, poo! I won't get pregnant. I'm not that dumb. Why, I wouldn't have let him do it the first time if he hadn't been wearing a rubber."
Sue held up both hands commandingly. "I said before I don't want to hear anymore. I mean it."
The younger girl shrugged again. "Okay. Okay." She critically inspected Sue, then cocked her head to one side and bit her lower lip in indecision. "You're a cool chick… real cool. But I wouldn't be surprised if you're still a virgin, even though Dick looks to me like he's the impatient type. He's probably snorting and pawing the stable floor." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
Sue strode to the door and angrily opened it. "Out," she commanded.
Marylou insolently got up from the bed and stuck her feet into her sandals. Smirking knowingly, she walked across the room and stopped in the archway of the door. "I wouldn't have believed it – a girl as beautiful, as well built as you, a girl who has been engaged for over a year – still a virgin. Like wow!"
"Yes, damnit. I am still a virgin… and I am proud of it. Not that it's any of your business."
Marylou held out her hands beseechingly, "Okay… okay. Don't get mad. I was just curious. I never have seen a 20-year-old virgin before." She was grinning impudently as Sue closed the door in her face.
Impertinent little snip, Sue thought: My God, what are these high school kids coming too! She knew Marylou wasn't putting her on; the girl was telling the truth about Petey. A moment later, though Sue's inherent common sense took over and she realized that only a strong will power had kept her, too, from losing her virginity. Marylou had been right about Dick, he was the "impatient" type… but he was also understanding. He had proved that time and time again.
She and Dick had gone steady for almost two years before their engagement; and they had been engaged for almost twelve months now. While they were going steady, they had necked – some really passionate kissing had come about, but when Dick had begun fumbling for her breasts, she had managed to stop him each time. Since their engagement was announced and she received her ring, there had been some petting – at least on his part. She had permitted him the possession of her breasts and, three or four times, he had been allowed to touch that sacred area which would be completely his only after the marriage ceremony. Sue had been forced to put a stop to his eager odysseys down there because of an underlying fear that she, herself, would lose all control. It did feel wonderful; that, at least, she could admit. Unfortunately, after these episodes, she would lie awake all night feeling the restless pounding of her heart being echoed deep within her womb. One night – for the first and only time – the throbbing had become so painfully intense that she had touched herself there with one finger. She moved it cautiously, and her lonely vagina cried out in ecstasy. A second finger joined the first, the two of them gently rubbing back and forth on the now damp slit. The motions had become less tender – more rapid! She had continued this for almost fifteen minutes, but aside from her vagina becoming too tender to touch, nothing happened. She hadn't even come close to that elusive realm of physical release mentioned in various books. She tossed and turned all night – sleeping fitfully. The next morning she awakened to a deep sense of shame – a feeling that still came back with the full force of its guilty intensity each time she thought about it.
But now all that is past, she thought, as she finished braiding her hair. A moment later, she slipped on a blue cardigan sweater to match her muted blue-plaid mini-skirt, and started downstairs. Marylou, bright-eyed and undaunted, met her at the landing. "Like, wow! You're really getting some groovy loot," she said. "There must be a couple of tons of crap in there."
Sue laughed in spite of herself, "Marylou, you are hopeless."
"Come on, let's see the stuff that came this morning." Marylou eagerly led the way to the living room where the already opened wedding gifts were piled atop each table as though they were luxury items on display in a small department store. Other gifts – unopened – were stacked on the floor. Marylou picked up one and shook it. "Try this one – from the Wilsons."
It was impossible not to laugh at the girl: she was as excited as a four year old under a Christmas tree. Sue cautiously unwrapped the gift, taking care not to ruin the white satin ribbon, and saving the paper.
"Holy Donovan! A Waring blender. Neat-o!" Marylou's exuberance was contagious. She grinned and affectionately put her arms around her cousin. "Come on," she said, "you can help me open them. But keep the ribbon, and the paper… and the boxes. And don't get the cards mixed up. Better write down what the gift is on each of the cards, so I can write thank you letters later."
The two girls had been working almost an hour opening and recording the new gifts when the telephone rang.
Sue, thinking it was Dick, answered it on the second ring.
"Sue… this is Peggy Martini. Your gown's ready for final fitting. When can you try it on?"
"I'll come right over… if that's convenient for you."
"Come ahead, dear. I think you're going to be very pleased with it."
"Oh, I'm sure I will be," Sue said ecstatically; then, as the doorbell rang, she shouted over her shoulder, "Marylou, get that, will you?"
"Be sure and bring the undergarments you're going to wear at the wedding," Mrs. Martini added. "We want the gown to be just right."
"I'll be there in about five minutes." Sue said, hanging up, and looking toward the door where the deliveryman from Holman's Department Store and Marylou were both carrying in additional gifts. Three different trips were made between the front door and the truck. Sue signed the delivery slips while Marylou was busy counting and shaking packages.
"Golly, seventeen more gifts… and this one weighs about thirty pounds," Marylou's excited voice reported. "Shall we open them?"
"I can't right now. Mrs. Martini wants to do the final fitting." Sue saw the disappointed look on the girl's face. "Hey, why not come along to Mrs. Martini's with me?"
"Oh… I'd like to, but Petey and I are going swimming. He's picking me up here in about twenty minutes or so. How long will you be? Will you be back before he comes?"
"I doubt it. The fitting probably will take at least an hour."
Marylou looked down at the rug and traced an abstract pattern with her big toe. "I don't suppose you'll change your mind about the hayride tonight?" she asked hopefully. "Petey and I wouldn't bother anyone. Honest. I promise!"
"I'm sorry, chicken. No. There will be liquor and, besides, everyone there will be in their twenties. We'll be just a bunch of old fogeys."
"Okay… of you don't want us."
"Look," Sue said in an effort to make the girl feel better, "I'll save some packages for you to open tomorrow. Okay?"
"Ummm… I suppose so." It was said listlessly.
Sue picked up her purse. "I've got to go. Be sure and lock up before you leave."
Five minutes later, Sue was in a dressing room at Mrs. Martini's. She quickly slipped on the blue lacy garter belt and her hose. "Now, dear, lift your hands straight up," Mrs. Martini ordered. "No quick moves; the gown is just tacked. We don't want it falling apart." Sue felt the rich nylon garment slip down over her arms and bead. She looked at herself in the mirror. The gown clung to her like a second skin. Mrs. Martini zipped up the long zipper in back then stood away to inspect her work. "Beautiful. Just beautiful!" Mrs. Martini's face grinned over Sue's shoulder in the mirror. "You like?" she asked, fitting a veil over Sue's blonde hair.
"Oh, yes!" the girl answered sincerely. "It's… it's just…" She closed her eyes, unable to think of the appropriate phrase. It is so beautiful, she thought; Dick will love me in it.
The older woman smiled in understanding. "Well, that's all then. We'll sew it up this afternoon; I'll deliver it on Sunday around one."
"You mean… that's all? Nothing more for me to do?"
"Nothing," she said airily. "All you have to do is step into it Sunday at three, and then walk down the aisle."
Mrs. Martini helped her out of the gown, and Sue dressed again in her blue sweater and plaid skirt. She glanced at her watch and was surprised to see that only ten minutes had elapsed. "Maybe Marylou will get to open some more packages after all," she said to herself.
It was a pleasant day, Sue noted, as she walked the two blocks back to her home. Sue felt like skipping, and she did… for a second or two until she remembered to be ladylike. She hoped the clear warm weather would hold until Sunday at least. She hoped it would be nice weather in Ireland. She hoped so many things, "But mainly I hope Dick and I will be happy together." She was humming a tune when she turned the corner and saw Petey's car in the driveway. Her step faltered; she abruptly remembered Marylou's candid confession about being intimate with the cheerleader. The boy was only fifteen, he might even be fourteen – not yet handsome, but fairly good-looking, with a pleasing personality. He had a certain poise; Marylou had undoubtedly helped to bring part of that about. During the Spring semester, he played shortstop on the high school baseball team – was too small of stature and build for football – and had earned his letter. Marylou and he made a rather attractive couple of teenagers, Sue thought. Still, though, they were teenagers and should not have been physically intimate.
Knowing what she did, Sue was sure that she would be unable to hide her mixed emotions if she faced the boy, so she walked around the side of the house and came quietly in the back way. She had planned to stay in the kitchen until he and Marylou left to go swimming. Obviously, they would have to be leaving in a minute or two.
The house was quiet – too quiet, she thought. Surely the young couple had left. For a moment, Sue deliberated calling Marylou's name, then decided she would just walk in unannounced. After all, it was her home! Sue left the kitchen and went through the alcove next to the living room. She was about to slide the doors open when she heard what sounded like a low cry of pain. Puzzled, she peered through the crack and then froze in shock and amazement. There, stretched out full length on the couch, were Petey and Marylou. The girl's white gym shorts had been unzipped and – together with her white nylon panties – were down about her knees. Her blouse was open all the way, and Petey's mouth was glued to her right breast. Even as Sue watched Marylou groaned again – and Sue realized it was not a cry of pain, but of delight. The boy's middle finger was sawing away in maniacal fury at the junction of Marylou's widely outspread legs. Her young pelvis was moving up and down in an effort to capture and hold on to the elusive digit. From her vantage point, Sue could even see the enlarged pink clitoris almost as large as an infant's penis.
Sue knew she should go away – go back to the kitchen – and perhaps slam a door as if she had just entered. Then she could call out Marylou's name; that would give the boy and girl a chance to get into their clothes. But then she also knew that she wouldn't be able to face either one of them after what she was viewing now. Her attention snapped back to the front room as Marylou arched her back up off the sofa and began to pant hoarsely. "I'm cumming, Petey," she cried once, then fell back, her face twisted in a lewd expression of delight and her legs beating against the leather couch.
After her movements had slowed, Petey took his finger away and lifted his mouth from her breast. He slid one knee over her thigh, as he began fumbling with his zipper. "Put it in for me, huh?" he requested.
"No! I told you no." Marylou said. In spite of the fact that her eyes were closed in satiation, there was no mistaking her adamant tone of voice.
"Please!" It was a frantic plea from the boy.
Marylou sighed in exasperation and opened her eyes. "I told you before you started messing around. It's the dangerous time of the month for me, and even if it wasn't, you'd still have to have protection. You know that!"
"Oh, God. I'm dying," the boy wailed.
Marylou sat up on one box. She had a very patient expression on her face. "Lie on your back," she ordered, and turned on her side to give him more room.
Petey did as he was told. She suddenly realized that Marylou knew exactly what to do… had probably done this many times before. Even as she watched, Marylou expertly unfastened the boy's belt, undid the waistband hook, and then unzipped the trousers. His jockey shorts were bulging. Marylou's hand slipped in the opening and withdrew the penis.
She was frozen; she couldn't have moved now even if the house had been hit by an earthquake. She had never seen anything like this before, although she knew it must happen all the time between some boys and girls. It had almost happened with her and Dick. That didn't change the situation; it was still lewd, dangerous, and wicked. Marylou's hand encircled the virile instrument at a point just below the head of the organ. She began moving her hand up and down, up and down. Petey lay back with a blissful look on his face, his eyelids fluttering, and his breath coming rapidly.
"Let me know," Marylou said.
"Yeh… yeh…" it was a hoarse grunt.
Less than thirty seconds later, Petey raised his buttocks off the couch and his face twisted in a grimace, "Ahh… ahhh," was all he said, but the communication was obviously effective for Marylou quickly used her other hand to pull up the jockey shorts just as the first white spurts of the boy's sperm came flooding through the subterranean channels of his penis. Marylou continued to stroke him – more gently now – and on her face was an unfathomable look that might have been either pleasure or satisfaction. Finally her hand motions stopped. She grinned down at the boy. "Feel better, sugar?" Sue asked softly.
"Ummm. God, yes," Petey sighed. "It's not as good as the real thing – like fucking inside of you… but it's better than nothing."
Marylou laughed, "And better than doing it yourself?"
"Hey now. I don't…"
"You do," and she hit him playfully, "doesn't everyone?"
After a moment, Marylou brought her hand out from beneath his jockey shorts. Sue could see the hand was all wet; it glistened in the reflected light. Marylou calmly wiped her hand on the tail of his tee shirt. Petey turned his head toward her; Marylou's breast was only three inches away from his mouth. He parted his lips, his tongue came out and licked the erect brown nipple.
With a look of rapture on her face, Marylou put her hand behind his head and pulled him closer to her. His mouth opened all the way as he seemingly attempted to devour the entire breast. "Ummm… that's wonderful." Then, abruptly, she pulled away from him and was very businesslike. "That's enough," she said in mock sternness. "We'd better get going. Sue will be back in a few minutes. Come on… get up, lazy." She prodded him with her knee.
Reluctantly, Petey stood up and faced the alcove door behind which Sue was hiding. His levis were down around his knees, and he stood straddle-legged to keep them from slipping down any further. In an attempt to straighten out his sopping wet jockey shorts, he was forced to lower them to about mid-thigh. Sue saw his cum-covered penis, flaccid now and only about two and a half inches long. He used the lower part of his tee shirt to dry it, and the vigorous drying motions started the organ swelling and elongating again. Marylou unconcernedly got off the couch, and Sue was able to see sparse young triangle of pubic hair before the white nylon panties and tight white gym shorts hid it from sight. Casually, the girl buttoned up her blouse, all the while smiling affectionately at the boy. A moment later, arm in arm and giggling, they left; this was followed by the sound of Petey's car starting up.
Sue suddenly realized that she was debilitated – so weak that her legs were almost unable to support her weight. She felt shame at having acted as a "Peeping Tom", but more than that, she could feel a sense of forbidden excitement that raged like a wild fire in her own loins and brought a hot fevered dampness between her thighs. For a moment, when the boy and girl had been petting, it seemed almost as if Sue herself were being fondled. Woodenly, she slid the door open and walked to the couch. She reached out one trembling hand and touched the leather. No, it hadn't been a dream. The leather was still warm from the heat of their bodies and, in one place where Marylou had lain with her bare buttocks pressed against the sofa. She could feel dampness where the girl's love juices had flowed down between her legs to the couch itself.
She sat down and thought about what she had seen. The performance of the two teenagers was wrong. Not only wrong, but sinful and dangerous. Yet, on the other hand, it had seemed such a natural thing and so very enjoyable! She had no doubt that the real act of sexual intercourse between Petey and Marylou would be just as natural – accepted just as calmly. And her thoughts moved on to her relationship with Dick. When she permitted Dick to fondle her, she had known excitement… at least for a few happy, beautiful moments. Always, though, she had become frightened as she felt her senses drifting away leaving her body helpless to any onslaught. And so, she had tightened up each time. As for touching Dick's penis… no matter how much Dick wanted her to caress him, she couldn't bring herself to do it. His male organ frightened her. Even though she had never seen it, she knew it was much, much larger than Petey's.
Sue picked up a wedding gift. "Everything will be much better after the wedding," she said aloud, and felt immediate depression because she was pretty sure it wouldn't be that much better. She forced herself to grin and began ripping the paper off the package. "I am just having prewedding jitters. Every bride has them. Don't they?" And she laughed humorlessly with the realization she was talking to herself. More than once during the next hour her eyes fastened on the couch, and she found herself wondering what it would be like if she and Dick…
Five hours later, when Dick came to pick her up for the traditional "final date" before marriage, the combination of perturbation and forbidden excitement still racked her body. She met Dick at the door, threw her arms around his waist, and kissed him warmly. As she pressed her body in close to him, she could sense his surprise at her uninhibited welcome. Her mouth opened to receive his tongue and her own tongue quivered and played effusively with his.
Dick, delighted with the greeting, drew back and asked, "What gives here?"
"I can kiss my husband-to-be, can't I?" she said, grinning in what she hoped was a wicked manner.
"Anytime, baby. Anyway!" They clenched again, then drew quickly apart as Sue's mother banged a door at the top of the stairs and came down.
"Good evening, Richard," she said, primly, not smiling.
"Hello, Mrs. Ogden. How are you this evening?"
"Not very well, thank you. I have a headache." Silence settled over the group. Sue finally broke it by taking Dick's arm and saying, "Don't wait up, Mother. It'll probably be after midnight before we get back from the hayride."
Mrs. Ogden stared at Sue, then nodded. "Have a good time," she said, and it was obvious the statement was made perfunctorily.
Dick opened the door for Sue and led the way to his side of the convertible. She slid in, showing more thigh than she usually showed, and didn't bother to pull down her skirt when Dick got behind the wheel. His mind was on something else, it seemed. "Brrr," he said, shivering as though he were freezing. "It was a bit cold in there tonight."
Sue quickly put her hand over his. "Mother means well."
"Sure," he answered, starting the car and backing out of the driveway. "Just like last week when I told her to cheer up; that she wasn't losing a, daughter, she was gaining a son. She looked at me like I was something that had crawled out of the apple pie and said, 'I am losing a daughter.'"
"Everything will be all right," Sue said, moving over until her hip was touching his.
Dick looked down at her legs and breasts, grinned, and said, "Everything is perfect already."
She dimpled and replied, "Thank you, kind sir," and felt the happiness well up in her.
Dick drove quickly – surely – driving with one hand, with his other arm around her shoulders. His tape deck was playing something soft – something for people in love. Neither of them spoke as they drove out of town, heading toward the farm where the haywagon ride was to originate. They were the last to arrive. Other couples were already in the wagon, and shouting impatiently for the evening to begin. Several bottles of hard liquor were in evidence, being passed around to be drunk straight. Sue had a mouthful of straight bourbon and coughed as it burned its way down her throat to her empty stomach.
Someone began singing as the two horses pulled the wagon across the countryside. With the coming of darkness, the various couples began snuggling down into the sweet – smelling hay. There were muffled giggles from the girls and occasional barks of laughter from the boys. Sue knew all of the others on the ride – most of them had been friends since kindergarten. They were a nice bunch of kids, she thought.
Dick pulled her down deeper into the hay, and she found herself almost buried in it, and lying full-length and pressed against him. The image of Petey and Marylou came to her at once, but she forced it out of her mind by asking, "Happy?"
"Uh-huh. You?"
In reply, she kissed him and found his mouth partially open: without volition, her tongue swam into his mouth. He savagely returned the kiss, and the excitement Sue had felt earlier began creeping back again. Now Dick's hands cautiously touched her breasts. Even through the sweater and blouse and slip and brassiere, she had felt the electricity between them.
The spell was momentarily broken when from the other side of the wagon, Sally Miller, the pert little redhead who was to serve as bridesmaid on Sunday, said very loudly, "Harvey Johnson. You stop that. You just behave yourself. You hear?" The remark was followed by ribald laughter from all the boys, including Dick. Even the driver, a 70-year-old coloured man, doubled up in laughter.
A second later, Dick began kissing her again. Their two tongues sparred, and she felt his hands becoming more sure of themselves when she did not protest. Lying as they were, face to face, Sue was also becoming very aware of the hard bulge beneath his trousers, which confessed his desire. She wanted to reach down there and caress him the way Marylou had caressed Petey; she was steeling herself to do it when his hands moved beneath her sweater and his knee moved between her thighs, separating them.
She made no effort to halt his fumbling efforts to unfasten the bra clasp, trusting him and herself. His movements, concealed by the straw and the night, were successful. A delicious moment later, his bare hand was on her naked breast; his fingers played over the nipple and he lovingly squeezed the firm, full mound of flesh. Never before had it felt so delightful to her. His tongue had become imperative, his movements almost frantic. His hips buffeted against her pelvis. She found herself panting – wanting him to stop, yet deep inside wanting him to go ahead forever. She wanted him to kiss and bite her breasts the way Petey had with Marylou. She was only vaguely aware of the clopping of the horses' hooves and the murmuring sounds of other couples who had also buried themselves in the anonymity of the hay. No doubt everyone was necking furiously, she thought. Suddenly, the breath went right out of her body. With one unhesitating smooth motion, Dick's hand slid up her thigh, dug itself under the thin elastic leg band of her panties, and touched the hot, moist lips of her now fevered vagina. Oh, God! She had been dying for him to do this… and now she didn't want him to. Immediately she dropped her arm and tried to pull his hand away; she also attempted to move her mouth from his. She was helpless, so weak. She was almost beside herself as he began massaging the hot throbbing passage between her legs. Once, his thumb and forefinger tweaked the sensuously tingling clitoris and a shower of ecstasy sparked through her groin. He began using his other arm to force her hand down toward the awesome bulge in his pants. She could feel reason leaving her; it was insane. "No… no!" she cried aloud and struggled upright. No one noticed her.
Sue saw him looking at her, wild-eyed and trembling. Finally he seemed to gain control of himself and nodded that it was safe to come back into his arms. She did so, trembling like a person afflicted with epilepsy, and kissed him gently on the lips. The bulge in his trousers felt even larger now, and she could feel it beating like a second heart against her bare thigh.
She had almost decided she would do something about relieving him, when the driver shouted to someone, and Sue heard Sally Miller's voice, "Hey, everybody, we're here!" The wagon made a half circle and stopped at the bank of a river. A huge bonfire was scattering sparks to the night. The smell of broiling steaks came on the wind. A keg of beer was tapped as one of the farm hands began playing a guitar. Dinner was followed by a round of singing as the bonfire slowly died down. One by one, the couples began drifting into the perimeter's darkness.
Sue felt Dick's hand pulling her to her feet. Arm in arm they walked down the dark beach. They had almost reached the end of the sand bar when he suddenly stiffened and whispered, "Shhh. There's someone out there." Sue could hear the muffled groans and something that sounded suspiciously like the sound of body slapping against body. "What is it?" she whispered, half-frightened, not knowing what lay out there in the darkness.
She saw Dick grin and he put his mouth against her ear. "I think it's Sally Miller and Harvey Johnson. Come on, let's see."
Sue held back. "That wouldn't be nice," she hissed. "We shouldn't."
"Come on," Dick insisted, and took her hand. "Be quiet."
They moved silently across the beach heading toward the little gully that separated the sand bar from the bank. Dick pulled her low to the ground in order to cut down their silhouette. They peered over the bank.
Sue made an audible gasp, which was quickly shut off by Dick's hand over her mouth. Her eyes were wide in amazement. There, down below them, only about ten feet away, were two nude bodies. Sally Miller's naked white thighs were spread wide and jerking frantically in the air as Harvey Johnson lay heavily between them. She saw Harvey's buttocks raise, revealing a huge white rod of glistening flesh in the moonlight; the rod was sunk deep between Sally's open thighs! Harvey thrust it forward and the girl's naked vagina rose to meet it in midair. She squealed out in delight. Faster, faster, the two bodies moved against each other. Sally's breath was coming in loud, short, puppy-dog-like pants and her movements were frantic. "Fuck me harder, harder… oh, yes…" Sally groaned then, with her face contorted in lascivious lust and passion, cried out, "I'm cumming, Harvey. Ah! Ahhh… aieeeee. I'm cumming. Fuck harder!" She made one maddened thrust upward and then fell back on the sand, her body spasming uncontrollably, her legs pounding the ground. A moment later, Harvey rammed forward and groaned out his own release, and the couple lay still; the only sound was their hoarse exhausted breathing and the slap-slap-slap of water as the little silver river waves rolled peacefully up on the sandbar.
Sue was only vaguely aware of Dick leading her away into the darkness. Well, now she'd seen it. She knew the word for it; Sally had been 'fucked', and Sally had used the word 'cum' as her body went insane with lust… just as Marylou had screamed out she was 'cumming.' And Sally had enjoyed it, had obviously been deliriously happy during it… and so had Marylou.
The sight had almost maddened her with a strange unwanted desire. She could feel the hot dampness now of her own awakening loins. Dick was pulling her firmly away from the bank toward the darker shadows by the bluff. Once, when she opened her mouth to say something, he held up his hand and silenced her. After they had gone about fifty yards, he stopped and pulled her body around toward him. They kissed. Sue wasn't attempting to tease him; she had a fire in her loins that cried out for extinguishment. She didn't know how to put out the fire or how it could be put out; that would be Dick's job. All she knew was that she was instinctively grinding her pelvis against that forbidden area where his trousers bulged. Instinct told her that when these two junctions were finally joined, the fire would blaze up in an all-devouring conflagration, explode, and then slowly die like a beautiful sunset.
Standing on tip-toe, abdomen wantonly pressed against him. Sue suddenly felt Dick's sure hands sweep up under the short skirt and cup her thin panty-covered buttocks in his palms. A second later, his thumbs hooked over the elastic waistband and with one delicious motion, her panties, were pulled down over her hips. Dick fumbled with his zipper and then the long hard rod which had been held captive for so long was released. It pressed hotly against her naked belly, throbbing hungrily with each beat of his heart. Standing pelvis to pelvis, she felt his knees spread outward a bit to lower himself. Then the fevered cock was between her thighs.
"Dick," she moaned. "Please… no. We can't." That was what her lips said, but her body was screaming, "Oh, yes… now, right now, my darling. What difference does a day or two make now." And so, without conscious volition, she flexed and unflexed her thigh muscles against his throbbing penis knowing by his moan of pleasure that she was instinctively doing the right thing.
Dick sawed his cock between her thighs; she could feel the hardness of it moving back and forth inside its sheath of hot thin skin.
His finger had begun to seek out the now moistened entrance to her womb and after a second he found it. He turned his hand palm up to cup the whole of her naked crotch in his hand and, at the same time, force her thighs apart. She hated to lose that wonderful contact between her upper legs and his penis, but she permitted him to spread her anyway. His fingers were moving like those of a sensuous harp player across her vaginal lips. She wanted to cry out in delight. Never before had she ever felt anything so soul consuming. Her neck arched and she moved her face from side to side, her lips contorted and panting out over and over again, "No… no… no," and obviously – from her wanton actions – meaning, "Yes… yes… yes."
Dick was grinding his teeth and grunting softly as he moved his penis up and down the length of her thighs. She could feel some moisture there; she wondered if he had 'cum'. He still was hard, still was moving… so obviously, she thought, he hadn't reached his climax. There was a moisture – a hot, slippery moisture – in her own vaginal split; the artesian springs of passion coming to life under his quivering rod.
"Sue… please! I want you. Let me." He continued to buffet her thighs with his prick.
I can't let you, she thought, incapable of speaking through her own longing. I can't stop you… I won't stop you if you really try. His huge rod now had slipped up to the top of her thighs and its head pressed and quivered against her hungrily throbbing cunt lips. She cried silently, "Oh, how I want you to make love to me. Do it now!"; nothing escaped her lips though except wild hoarse pantings of desire. For the first time in her life she felt as if something good was about to happen to her down there between her legs. Her heart rejoiced. There was no fear this time, as there had been in the past. No sudden withdrawal of her senses. If anything, her senses stayed right there and intensified. It was beautiful. It was wonderful. She wanted to cry out to him, "Take me… take me now, darling." When her fiancee began pushing her gently down toward the sand, she went willingly. Panting, she lay on her back, legs slightly spread, looking up unseeing at the starry sky and watching as Dick unfastened his trousers and dropped them. Then he was kneeling between her thighs, the heat of his bare hips and buttocks against her abdomen and legs.
"Be gentle," she moaned, as she felt the huge head of his prick pressing at the lips of her unprotected vagina. She lay there, the heat of the moment on her – wanting it beyond all other things, and ecstatically happy that the fright had finally left her.
Dick's tongue sought possession of her mouth, his weight descended upon her lower belly, and the first gentle probe of his cock slid lengthwise across her vaginal lips. She gave herself to the sensation; she could feel all reason leaving her body – replaced only by pure feeling. Dick lifted his buttocks back a bit in preparation for this first entry. The throbbing head of it touched her vaginal lips, pushed forward and separated the soft yielding pubic hair, and paused there beating, beating, beating. Now he withdrew the head, now he replaced it and this time pressed just a trifle deeper. Oh, God, she thought; it is so beautiful. She could feel her vaginal lubricant oozing around the head of his cock. Now she wanted it deeper. Instinctively, she had reached down there to caress his balls when – with a terrifying suddenness – the breathless moment was shattered by the loud shrill tweet of a police whistle blown only a few yards away. And the sound of it caused Sue's nerves to suddenly scream and react as though a stick of dynamite had exploded beneath her. Simultaneous with the whistle, which was the signal from the wagon driver that the evening was at an end, there was the sound of a giggle right above them, together with a muttered, "Ooops! Beg pardon." Sally and Harvey were laughing as they backed away after stumbling over them in the darkness. "Didn't mean to break in," Harvey's voice said, followed by Sally's hissed, "Shut up, Harvey."
Sue put her hands against Dick's chest and pushed him away. Frantically, she tugged at her skirt, attempting to pull it down and cover her naked loins. The beautiful moment had fled, and the way her nerves were screaming it was probable that it would not return for a long time… if ever. It was as though she were a child undergoing psychological conditioning: reach out for a pretty vase and receive a powerful electrical shock upon contact. Or an alcoholic reaching for a drink in an institution – a type of don't touch conditioning… brainwashing.
Her nerve endings were all jangling like a hundred alarm systems being shorted out at once. She wanted to scream. Just as devastating was the embarrassment and humiliation that she felt. God, how cheap and vulgar she must have looked there with her legs spread out like a wanton whore. She covered her eyes and began sobbing quietly.
Dick, though, was not about to give up that easily. When he sought to pull her skirt up again, she jackknifed her knees beneath him and twisted on her side. "Don't," she commanded, and it was an order not to be disobeyed. "I'm so embarrassed."
"God, we can't stop now," he groaned. "It doesn't matter if they saw us."
"It matters to me," and the sobs began coming more rapidly.
Dick angrily rolled over. "Oh, shit!" he said very loudly, and got to his feet, pulling up his trousers.
"I'm sorry," she weeped. "I can't help it."
"Come on," he said, and it was almost a snarl of contempt, "Get up."
Trembling, Sue stood and then feeling even more embarrassment, reached down and attempted to raise her panties; she heard them rip as her heel caught the elastic. Dick had his back to her. Why – oh why! – did everything go wrong all of a sudden. She had wanted him to make love to her – she needed to be made love to. He had even begun to make some penetration. And then that… that "damned" police whistle, together with Harvey's crude laughter and Sally's knowing eyes. Contritely, she completed her dressing, and then said quietly, "Dick."
He refused to answer.
She sniffed. "Dick… I'm so sorry."
"Yeah, you acted like it," he mumbled.
"Well… I am."
"Okay," he said, his voice cold and distant, and not giving an inch. "You're sorry. I'm sorry. That doesn't make any difference to the condition I'm in right now – the same God-damned condition I've been in ever since I met you. Don't be surprised if you hear tomorrow morning that I was arrested for raping someone on the street."
Sue flared, "It's just as bad for me."
"I doubt it."
"What do you mean by that?" she commanded. "Forget it."
"No, I won't forget it. What did you mean?"
He turned finally and looked down at her. After a long moment, his shoulders slumped, and he sighed in exasperation. "You can turn it off. It's easy. Look at me, though. Just look!" He cupped his bulging trousers in one hand and clenched his fist tight around it. "What am I supposed to do with this? Christ! It hurts a man when he gets all set to make love and then nothing happens."
Sue's retort was cut off by the sound of the police whistle again. Someone shouted their names, "Hey Dick… Sue! Come on. Time to go!"
"Come on," Dick said, roughly grabbing her arm and leading the way toward the wagon. Sue followed him docilely; she was thinking of what he said – about it hurting a man when nothing happens and he's ready. Marylou apparently knew the solution to that problem this afternoon with Petey. And at that moment, Sue decided she would "relieve" Dick this way, if it would help him. He would have to make the first move, though; she couldn't bring herself to be that bold.
The ride back on the hay wagon was silent, and the atmosphere painfully strained between the two of them. He made no effort to kiss or hold her. When they got back to the ranch yard, he had assisted her down from the wagon and then opened the door to the right side of the car – an obvious invitation to sit on her own side of the car. Not one single word was spoken during the short journey home. When he pulled into the doorway, he kept the motor running while he escorted her to the door.
Sue's emotions were churning; she was torn between embarrassment, shame, and anger.
"Good night," he said, simply nodding his head, and again making no effort to kiss her.
All right, if that's the way you want to play it, to heck with you, Mister, Sue thought. She forced herself to smile, though, and said, "Good night, Dick." She put her key into the lock, entered without looking at him, and closed the door behind her. She stood there, heart pounding, with her back pressed tightly against the door, until she heard the roar of his engine and the screech of his tires as he angrily departed.
"Sue, darling, is that you?" Mrs. Ogden's voice came from the living room.
She sighed, that was all she needed to make the evening a complete – an inquisition. "It's me, Mother."
"Come in here, please."
Sue had no inclination to talk to anyone at the moment; all she wanted to do was go upstairs, take a hot shower, and go to bed with her own thoughts.
"Sue? Are you all right?" Her mother's voice was insistent.
"Yes, Mother." Sue took off her sweater and put it on the hallway bench. She glanced at her hair to make sure it was clean of hay and not too mussed, and checked her clothing for signs of disarray. Then she went into the living room where the older woman stood before the fireplace.
Mrs. Ogden's eyes flickered over her daughter as if she were evaluating a stranger's honesty or trustworthiness. After a moment, she blinked and held a tightly wadded handkerchief up to her mouth.
Puzzled and alarmed, Sue asked, "Mother? What's happened? What's wrong?"
Mrs. Ogden seemed reluctant to speak. Then with big tears looming up in her eyes, she reached out for Sue and said, "Oh, darling. I should have told you before, but it was go embarrassing for me." She sighed deeply, wiped her eyes with a lace handkerchief, and sniffed. "I just didn't want to embarrass you, too. But I can't avoid it any longer."
"What is it?"
"Sit down, dear." She motioned to the couch, then sat down beside her daughter. The older woman's face was flushing as she sought to put words to an obviously distasteful task. "I've never spoken to you about… about your marriage duties and marriage night. I must do so before you find out for yourself. This is something a mother must pass on to her daughter. It isn't something you will find in those horribly nasty dirty marriage manuals with their filthy pictures and diagrams… or those Communistic sex education classes they tried to put on in the high school. I'm so relieved that my woman's club was instrumental in getting rid of all that smut. After all, this is something that should be taught and discussed in the home."
She was appalled. This was the last thing she ever expected to hear from her usually reserved mother. The older woman was undergoing almost a Jekyll-Hyde transformation as she warmed to her subject. Earlier embarrassment had evaporated – being replaced by something akin to hatred and anger.
Mother said, "I think you know that men and women have different reproductive organs."
Sue was amused in spite of herself, but she realized she must bite back her smile. She wondered what mother would say if daughter was to tell her that the first time she had ever seen – in living colour and stereophonic sound – a full-grown male's erect "reproductive organ" had been that afternoon on the couch… that Mother was sitting on the exact spot where Marylou's "reproductive organ" had damped the leather some 12 hours earlier… that Sue's own "reproductive organ" had been rubbed by Dick's "reproductive organ" only an hour before.
Mother continued her lecture. "May I suggest that you use your… ah… reproductive organ as just that. Get pregnant right away, as soon as you can, then you won't be bothered by Dick. Sex, after all, is enjoyable only to men; it is something we women must bear with fortitude – no matter how distasteful."
Sue swallowed, confused. "But, Mother," she protested, "sex is supposed to be beautiful between a husband and wife."
The older woman closed her eyes and shook her head. "Sex is only beautiful in that it leads to procreation. Remember the Bible: it says, 'Woman submit to your husband.' That word 'submit' means just that. Sex is a cross we women have to bear. Nothing is fair or equal about it. For example, on your wedding night, you will give your virginity to Dick. He will take it joyously. And what does that gift cause you? Not joy! Pain! Your hymen will be brutally ripped, the pain will be excruciating… and then you will begin to hemorrhage. I have even heard stories of women bleeding to death on their marriage bed. Once – you remember? – I broke my leg and the bone popped out of my skin?"
She nodded, remembering the afternoon when she was only five years old; she'd had nightmares for weeks after seeing the blood, the white bone, and hearing the sounds of her mother's screams.
"You remember how I finally passed out from the agony, and when they tried to move me I came to again, and how they had to give me morphine to ease the pain?"
Wide-eyed and wondering, Sue said quietly, "Go on."
"Well, the pain that afternoon was nothing compared to the agony I suffered when your father took my virginity… even though he tried to be gentle. That, of course, was before he became an insensitive alcoholic brute." The older woman's eyes narrowed in recollection. "It was always painful. It hurt every time he insisted on my performing what he called 'marital obligations." She held up her hand as Sue opened her mouth to speak. "Wait, don't interrupt. My mother suffered the same way, and her mother, and her mother's mother before her. Your poor Aunt Margaret! It is a fact of life you must learn to accept, and that is why I say to you, 'get pregnant as soon as you can'."
Sue was slow putting her thoughts into words, but finally her feelings came tumbling out. "But… but don't most women enjoy making love with their husbands?"
"Whores! And don't disgrace that beautiful word 'love' by using it in that filthy context. 'Making love', indeed! 'Making war' would be more like it, for the woman is always defeated, degraded, and brutally subjected to all types of indignities. Can you image… (No, of course you can't, and pray God that you'll never have to!)… what it is like to have some foul breathed, wine-swilling, cigar stinking beast crawl like a spider over your naked body?" She shuddered from the thought of it; and Sue – watching her mother's genuine horror – couldn't help thinking about what had been said.
Sue was fairly sure that her mother was telling the truth – at least the truth as the older woman saw it. Perhaps there was an inherited physiological trait that had been passed on through the female genes in her mother's family. She had read and heard about such things. Perhaps it was painful! Maybe there was some almost insignificant anatomical or neurological difference in the female line of her family. And, abruptly, as the horrifying thought came to her, Sue clutched the arm of the couch: Could the trait have been passed on to her? Would she know agony… instead of passionate enjoyment? Would she have known excruciating pain if Dick had continued his penetration?
Her mind was a maelstrom of confusion and fear. There were so many questions she wanted to ask now… and no one to answer them. Sue wanted to ask if Mother had ever enjoyed a male's caresses and fondling, but such a question was embarrassing and at that moment almost senseless.
Then, almost as if reading her mind, her mother said, "I think almost all women enjoy 'sparking' with a man – the touch of his hand upon your arm," and the older woman blushed, "or a gentle kiss. The body responds, of course. But the act of sexual intercourse itself is degrading." A moment later she began speaking more rapidly – almost irrationally. "Remember what Saint Augustine wrote, 'Nothing is so much to be shunned as sex relations.' And remember what I said. Sexual intercourse should be used only for procreating the race. Birth is painful – horribly so – but the act of conception, of mindless copulation, is equally painful. Get pregnant, my darling, as soon as you can."
There was more of the same, but Sue's mind could not absorb any more. Sue knew her mother was wrong – terribly wrong. That statement about only "whores enjoying sex" was almost pathetic. Marylou certainly was no whore – nor was Sally. Then there was Cynthia and Donna, both of whom had been friends of Sue's for almost all of her 22 years; both had married earlier this summer. They certainly weren't "whores", but they had made some ecstatic reports about what their husbands did to them in bed.
Long after she had gone upstairs, Sue lay awake – unable to sleep. She gradually became more and more certain that her mother was telling the truth as she saw it. It was painful to Mother; it probably was agonizing… to Mother, to Mother's mother, and Aunt Margaret. If it was true, and Sue had absolutely no reason to doubt it, then most probably the same thing was inherently wrong with her. It would be as agonizing for her as her ancestors once Dick made full penetration.
It was a family curse, her confused mind decided; a curse handed down from one female to another on her mother's side.
Down there – deep within her womb – she felt her vaginal muscles tighten. It was a though a lock had been put in place… a lock without a key… a lock that would keep Spring and Summer out forevermore.