The day her period was a week overdue and she knew she wasn't going to get it was the day she boarded a bus for Iowa City and ran away from home.
She had been a woman now for a few months and had tried to do some reading on the subject of prevention of pregnancy and on the biological procedure of impregnating a woman. Biology class was vague on the subject, and the information she could glean from the pussyfooting texts in the school library was not very informative.
But when her period showed absolutely no sign of showing up, it did not take a doctor to fill her up with the certain knowledge that she was pregnant.
She was frightened. What would her father do if he found out? Would he abort her? Loose interest in her? And then of course was the question of the child's father. She did not let her mind touch that grim subject at all, until she had stolen her mother's cookie jar money, all of thirty-two dollars, and walked down the dusty road into town. Her father was out in the fields working that morning, and her mother simply didn't notice.
She knew the stationmaster would remember that Lena Hanson had bought a ticket for Iowa City, and that sooner or later he would get around to reporting it to her father, once her absence was discovered. So she bought a ticket first for a small town near Iowa City, and then bought another ticket on the bus for the city. She had never been to a city before. In fact, she had never been on a bus before, never been out of her own hometown.
Ret, her older brother, lived in Iowa City, and she thought vaguely about trying to find him. But she wasn't sure if he would help her, listen to her story and believe her, or simply return her to her father. She would work out that problem when she got there, she decided as she allowed herself to sink into free slumber, when had she ever felt so free in her life? she wondered in her dreams, as the bus rolled out onto the highway parting the fields of young growing wheat.
It was with great pleasure that she opened her eyes once just as the bus was passing her father's own fields. She could see him, as she slumped behind the tinted window of the bus, bending over, struggling with a root that lay in the tractor's path. She could see the bulge of his sexual apparatus and she laughed snidely and her hands instinctively went down protectively over her crotch until the bus had rolled on.
The man sitting in the seat beside her raised his eyebrows at the very luscious young girl, fully developed, with lovely breasts and arms and thighs, holding her crotch with her hands. He turned a page of his newspaper and decided he would talk to her later on, for now, he saw, she had fallen asleep in the same position.
She had horrible dreams: of being in a cramped, filthy apartment that smelled of her mother's boiled cabbage. She was lying down with the lower half of her body naked and her knees raised as a hideous old woman tried to extract a baby from her cunt. She was asking the old woman if it were possible for a human girl, a woman to become impregnated by another species, say, by a horse. The old woman didn't answer. She just kept pulling at something that was stuck in Lena's cunt.
Lena kept asking and asking, but all she heard was the old woman's wheezing and cackling. Lena felt something hard, like a hoof, kick against her stretching, straining thighs and she asked again, "Could a woman couple with a horse and have a…"
"Could a couple live in a house?" the man beside her was repeating.
She wakened to find it nighttime. The bus was pulling into a city. She knew it was a city because there was so much noise and motion all around them, and for as far as she could see there were bright shifting lights.
"You were talking in your sleep," the man said. "You were asking something about if a couple could live in a house. My name's Bill. Where are you going?"
"Um, Iowa City," she said. "To visit my relatives. Are we here," she turned to the window.
"Almost," he said. He was a handsome, friendly looking man. He carried a leather attache case and he spoke to her as if she were his age, which made her feel very grown-up. She was grown-up, she thought ironically. She was going to have a baby, or rather, an abortion.
"We're still in the suburbs. But we'll be in Iowa City soon. I'm getting off there too. Will your relatives be meeting you at the bus stop there?" he asked.
"N-no," she said.
"Then perhaps I could accompany you for a while, until they come to pick you up. I could help you get a cab, or find a phone."
"Thanks. Maybe," she said. She had to think fast now. She didn't know what her plans were going to be. She looked slyly at this man named Bill now, wondering if he would help her if she confided in him. Maybe he could tell her where she could go to get an abortion, and how much it cost.
When they got into Iowa City proper, she allowed him to take her into the bar across from the bus station. She had made a stop in the ladies room and put on some make-up that a girlfriend had given her as a joke for a birthday present last year. She had never before had occasion to wear it.
When she came out of the bathroom, she walked over to where Bill waited for her at the bar.
"Well," he said when he saw her. "I bet they won't even ask you for an I.D. now."
He was right. They served her a martini, which was what he was drinking, without carding her.
"Just how old ARE you? For the record's sake," he asked her, whispering in her ear. In her jean skirt and red blouse and nice sandals, all filled out with her lovely buxom, womanly form, she looked quite adult.
"Eighteen," she said.
"That's old enough," he replied judiciously ordering two more martinis. He knew of course that she was lying.
After a few martinis they were quite good friends, and she didn't even flinch when he slid his hand right up her skirt to her thighs.
"You're not new at this, are you?" he smiled. He had a cute wispy blond mustache and he didn't seem so old to her anymore.
"What do you do?" she asked him. "Why are you in Iowa City tonight?"
Bill said, "I'm a traveling salesman, honey. I sell soaps and perfumes, and anything else a lady might like, door to door. Iowa City's my home base. I've come home for a little rest spell before hitting the road again. Do you have anywhere to sleep tonight little honey? Looks like your folks didn't know you were going to be on this bus."
"Look, I do need a place to stay," she admitted.
It wasn't until they had helped each other down the streets, to a crummy side street near the train station, and up a flight of foul-smelling stairs and into his furnished one room, that she confessed to him her real need.
"I'm in trouble. You know, my boyfriend got me in trouble. And I've come here to Iowa City to… get rid of it. Can you tell me where to go? What to do?" she asked. She didn't even sound or feel pathetic as she asked for this stranger's help and advice. She was sitting quite comfortably, one leg over the arm of a moth-eaten chair, as he mixed them some more martinis in an empty apple juice jar.
"Ah," he said debonairly. "In trouble. Boy trouble. Well, I'm just glad to know that I'm not the first, in your case, to be corrupting the…" he eyed the space between her spread legs, "morals of a minor."
"Can you help me?" she asked. She massaged her boobs under her blouse and stretched coyly, looking at him from under lidded eyes.
He got up and wrote down a name and address on a piece of paper. "Take the number one bus to Grove Street, about twenty minutes from here. Say you know a friend of Gina's."
"Thanks," she said, tucking the slip of paper in her bra.
"Let's go to bed," he said.
They both climbed joyously into the big old springy double bed. It was high off the ground and the springs were so old they sagged all over. It was like trying to lie down in soft cheese, and they laughed and giggled and pulled each other's clothes off.
Bill exclaimed at the softness and hugeness of her tits. Even for an eighteen-year-old, she was well developed. He couldn't touch her boobs enough with his face and tongue, rubbing his cheeks against them and licking them all over. He wanted to rub his feet on her boobs and his stomach and arms, and of course his cock which grew hard as he rolled back and forth in the valley between her boobs.
They kissed, their tongues exploring each other's mouths, while she let her hands slip down and run all over his veined cock and tickle his hairy balls. She liked to squeeze his balls in her hand, gently, and feel the one ball roll into the other. She wondered if she could make them switch sides.
Meanwhile, he seemed content to kiss her mouth with his tongue, sticking it way in deep, running over her teeth.
She thought he would never turn his attention to her more pressing parts; he avoided touching below her waist at all with his hands. She wondered if something was wrong with him, and checked once quickly with her eyes.
No, his penis looked all right, large and hard.
Suddenly, with the forthright understanding of a twelve-year-old, she sat up in bed and took his head in her hands. "Haven't you ever fucked a girl before? Is this the first time?"
He blushed in shame.
"How old are you?" she asked.
"Twenty-two," he said.
She put her tongue between her lips and shook her head in coy dismay. Her boobs shook too in sympathy and he dove for them, sucking them, pulling them around either side of his head.
She let him play that way a while longer, then she pushed his hands away and said, "Are you ready?"
"Sit back there, no farther away. Way back, at the foot of the bed there, and just watch, so you get accustomed to what you see. When you want what you see, come and get it," she whispered.
He positioned himself at the foot of the bed as she had commanded and watched her. She propped the pillows up behind her so she could lie back comfortably.
She pulled down her white panties and spread her legs with her knees bent so he could take his first look at live female pussy. But she found that staring at his youthful fuzzy mustache distracted her so she closed her eyes.
She was thinking of the horse, Red Beauty, and his long slimy dick, when she parted her pussy with her fingers and showed him her meat. She stuck two fingers in, one on each side, and brought up for his viewing pleasure some of the redder, wetter inner meat. She poked her fingers way deep inside. They came up and out wet and shining and she made him lean over and sniff her fingers and lick them.
She parted the labia to show him the sweet little canal of pussy flesh that invited him down into the thicker meat of the love cave. She diddled with the labia, swatting them with her fingers so they filled with the excretion of desire and sat up bold and hard. The little nub of flesh between the labia she tweaked with her fingers.
"Wait, let me," he said. And he followed her directions like a willing pupil. She had creamed and creamed again under his deft fingers when he finally withdrew his sticky hands, and said, "I want it now."
"Take it baby, it's all yours," she said. And she held her cunt parted with her fingers for him as he brought his dry big cock to her opening. At first touch his cock became wet with her cunt-wetness and the big bulbous head of his cock started to slide right into her cuntmeat, like a kid being pushed off a slide.
He sank into her, and his cock parted her warm meat like a knife sinking into tender steak. He couldn't believe that it was his cock, his own aching, denied member, that could do so much so easily to this yielding pussy beneath him.
She WANTED him to stick his fingers in her as he stuck his big cock-finger in and out of her, she wanted him to smell the stale, fishy odor of her cunt. He could smell it as he turned away from kissing her mouth to stare down at the big animal – the red dick, that was taming her and making her melt like chocolate left out in the sun.
It was so different to come into a girl's pussy after a lifetime spent coming in his own hand. Her pussy was so… soft and enclosed and slippery. She gripped his dick with her pussymuscles tighter than he could ever grip with his hand, and she didn't let go. It felt like some creature had attached itself to him and was sucking on him, and he let her pussy suck and suck and suck him until he lost control and spurted his thick white cream into the deep pussy-smelling cunt.
They both sighed with pleasure, and soon after began touching again. He just could not get enough of her breasts, and he loved to watch her open her cunt to him from all different angles. He couldn't believe a woman would get on her hands and knees and let him look straight at her open cunt and her ass. It turned him on.
In the morning neither of them was very rested. Nevertheless, at noon, he swatted her out of bed. He had to report to his office, and she had to go take care of her business.
Gina was his sister, it turned out, and the abortion would cost one hundred bucks. Lena almost cried when she heard this. Bill had told her it might be expensive, but he hadn't known what the current going price was. The price was always changing depending on the current status of the anti-abortion laws in the state. She cried in Bill's arms that night, and he stroked her hair and told her not to worry.
"But where am I going to get a hundred dollars?" she sobbed. "I don't have any money left."
"You can get a job he told her," trailing his fingers in her cunt. He was quite bold now.
"A job doing what? I can't do anything," she said, writhing with pleasure.
"They need a girl, to waitress, at the cafe down the street," he suggested, placing his mouth on her cunt and trying the pleasures of eating out a young girl for the first time in his life. His tongue slipped way down deep inside her and she cried out in pleasure. It was like a little dick, except much more acrobatic than a dick, slipping and sliding inside her now, like a seal. He stuck one or two fingers inside her now too, while he continued the manipulations with his tongue. One finger plied inside her cunt, making her clit stand up tall and salute, while another lesser-privileged finger, stayed on duty at the fleshy mound between her labia making her come in two ways at once.
She couldn't let such sincerity go unnoticed. She promptly sat up, turned around and licked his hard cock with her hard, flattened tongue. She licked the cock starting at the bulbous head and straight down the underside of it, holding the pleased creature between steady fingers. After such rubbing had strengthened the hardness of the cock even more, making it stand up even straighter, she placed her lips over the top of the penis, so that the slick head of the dick slid in and out of her mouth while her hands frenzied him up and down.
Her fingers pumped the white cream up the shaft while her soft firm lips sucked the stuff out of him and slurped it up.
The next morning she went down the street to go to work. The train station district was rough and dirty, and she only wore an apron for two hours before she turned it back in and walked down the street stumbling and crying. She couldn't make change fast enough for the rough customers, and she dreaded their snide remarks and pinches on her behind. She was not cut out to be a waitress and she'd made only a quarter in tips. At that rate, she'd have the baby before she could get the abortion.
She waited for Bill in his room all that day. He came home with bad news. He was leaving for Tulsa, Oklahoma the next morning. He assured her that she could stay in his room in the meantime.
He took her out that night to cheer her up. He'd just gotten paid. He took her to one club and then another that he knew. They ended the night in a place one flight down where the drinks were cheap and the clientele bawdy, drunk and bizarre.
Women were dressed up in plumes and sequins and tight gowns and they sat all over the men and danced with them as if they were making love. The men drank and roared and were loud with their lewd jokes. There was an act coming on and everyone was waiting for it with great anticipation.
"From Mexico, Tequila," Lena heard one man say to another. "Girl does it with a donkey!!!"
"Really, man? Shit. Women are disgusting. Shit. That's one thing I can't wait to see!!" replied his friend, a hairy man with a big stain down the front of his white shirt.
"I wonder what she gets paid for doing it," said Bill at her ear.
Lena wondered too and already a plan was forming in her head. She didn't say anything about it to Bill. But she waited with interest for the act to begin too.
The act, when it finally happened, was very disappointing. At least Lena thought so. The crowd didn't seem to be well versed in the art of fucking an animal, so they didn't seem to notice how Consuela, the Mexican senorita, faked it.
Maybe they noticed and didn't care, pondered Lena, sipping her drink and watching Bill's face as it grew red with lasciviousness and he gripped her thigh. Maybe the crowd felt they got what they paid for when they got excited by the mere idea of a woman fucking a donkey.
For all Consuela did was come out in a kinky costume of leather, and high-heeled leather boots. She wore a mantilla in her hair, and a veil, and she did a striptease. Paring down slowly, in time to rhythmic music, to a black bra that revealed more of her long sleek boobies than it covered, and a g-string that split open her cunt and disappeared between her buttocks behind, she was quite sexy-looking, Lena had to admit.
But Lena was more interested, professionally, in the donkey. It was brought on and tethered to a post at the beginning of the act when Consuela started to strip. She directed her striptease at the donkey, but he didn't seem to notice or care when she spread her legs in front of his nose and played with her cunt for him.
Lena couldn't even see that the donkey, a dirty, but not old thing, got hard.
Then after much splitting of her cunt and her ass, and playing with her tits for the audience's sake, Consuela sat down on the donkey's back, her open cunt flat against his hide, and rode him around back and forth on the stage while she squirmed and let on that even this felt good.
Finally, as the hoots and hisses of the crowd urged her on, she crawled beneath the grey creature and locked her legs up around his back. Her back lay on the floor and she pretended to touch the donkey's genitals with her hands. She smiled a big wet grin at the audience and said, "Oh, he is so big. I want his donkey-dick in me." And as the audience whistled and yelled, she moved her hips up as if she were inserting a dick in her, and then she moved back and forth. But all the action was really hidden from view. It was just a simulation, Lena decided, though Consuela brought the house down with applause. She went through the tables after that, in her g-string and bra, collecting tips in a hat.
"How did you like that?" Bill asked afterwards, as they made their way home supporting each other through the hot dry streets.
"It was okay," said Lena nonchalantly.
"Think you'd ever like to do it with a donkey?" he asked.
"Nope," she said.
He left the next morning for Tulsa saying she was welcome to stay until he got back and he was sure she'd find some way to make money. She kissed him goodbye and then went back to bed. That afternoon she managed to let a shop clerk allow her to buy some clothes: a pair of sexy panties, black with a slit at the crotch, and a bra with open holes for the nipples to slip through, on credit.
She took these with her back to the Black Pussycat, the bar where the donkey act was playing. She knocked on the basement door and was told the Black Pussycat didn't open until ten.
"I'm here to see Consuela," she said, and finally she was admitted after she told the voice she had some money for Consuela.
The Mexican girl, (Lena doubted whether she was really even Mexican), was sitting in her dressing room eating dinner. She listened curiously to the strange girl's proposal to take over her act for a few nights.
"How much do you make a night?" Lena asked.
"I make about fifty bucks a night," Consuela blew blue smoke out of her reddened lips. She was dressed in a torn and dirty silk kimono and she sat amid a dressing room full of clothes: feather boas, more dirty silk kimonos, g-strings in all colors and the like.
"The bar gives me twenty-five and I make the rest in tips," Consuela said.
"I'll give you the twenty-five bucks every night for a week, if you'll let me do the act and collect all the tips," the confident Lena said.
"How do I know you can handle this act?" asked Consuela coolly. This girl looked mighty young to her.
"Where's your donkey? I'll show you," said Lena.
Consuela took Lena around to the back where there was a shed in the yard. The donkey, whose name was Pepe, was in there munching on his dinner.
With one adept movement, Lena dropped her panties and lifted her skirt. Then she was down on the ground under Pepe. Her hands quickly, gently stroked his furry sheath, so much smaller than the cock-holders of her beloved stallions back home.
Before the donkey could realize that someone new was playing with him, his sheath had released his tiny little cock, all slick and red like a stallion's, but so much smaller!
Lena laughed at the thought of how cushy this job would be, as she relaxedly pulled her cunt up over the donkey's cock and began going up and down.
Consuela stared wide-eyed and finally said, "Okay! Okay! My God, you can stop now! I believe you can do the act!"
Lena dropped back down to the ground and rolled out from under the donkey. Pepe seemed to look at her with some malevolence in his red donkey eyes, because she had excited him so far, more than he had been excited in a long time, as Consuela did not allow him to mate with females of his kind while they were on the road, and yet she had not brought him to ejaculation.
Lena laughed and patted him on the head. "I'll see you tonight Pepe. You'll get another chance." She shook hands with Consuela on the deal, and then Consuela took her to meet the proprietor of the house and explain the change in the act for the next week to come.
That night, or rather the next morning, for the donkey act didn't go on until one in the morning, Lena was all set. She was a little nervous, she had to admit, because she had never performed in front of people before, not even in a school play.
But she reminded herself what the money was for: an abortion, and freedom, a beginning of a new life of independence and freedom, far away from the man who first poured a male's smelly corruption into her body and left her with no peace in life.
Lena began her act differently than Consuela. Lena came on in a filmy black nightie that just barely came down to the top of the black briefs. She wore high black heels and she pretended to be waiting for her husband to come home. She pretended to be dusting her home with Consuela's big black feather duster, and she raised her black negligee and dusted her big swaying boobs while the audience whistled and licked its lips. Then she bent over and showed the crowd the split in her black panties and she pretended to dust what lay between the split. She indicated to the audience that she sure wished her husband would come home because she wanted to… and she made gestures with the handle end of the duster which left no doubt about what she wanted to do.
The crowd roared with laughter when the donkey walked on stage and Lena pretended to express love and delight that her darling husband was home. She caressed the donkey's face and ears, murmuring "Pepe" in his scruffy ears.
She removed the nightie and swung her breasts before the donkey. The audience loved the way her dusky nipples hung out, exposed, at the end of her long white tits, still partially encased in the lacy black brassiere.
But the crowd was getting restless. They were urging her on.
She winked at them and sat down behind the donkey, with her knees spread. The audience couldn't see her head then, concealed behind the animal, but they could see, quite clearly, one of her little white hands as it massaged first the hairy sheath of the animal's genitals, and then the slickened red dick as it grew and grew out of the dull fur. The audience clapped louder and louder as the donkey dick grew.
The audience could also see quite clearly what she was doing with her other hand, which was sunk deep into her cunt. They could watch her rooting in and playing with herself.
One man couldn't restrain himself (the music too was very slow and rhythmic) and he ran up to the edge of the stage and put his hand out to her pussy. His arm didn't reach though and someone pulled him down.
Now it was time to do her stuff. The donkey's cock was fully erect.
She slid her body entirely underneath him and then, with the audience's eyes full on the erect red cock, she grasped the creature between her legs and slowly inserted the wet dick up her thighs, into her cunthole which she held open for it.
The audience was entirely silent as, as if with one pair of eyes, they watched the slimy red donkey cock disappear into the cunt of the long-titted woman.
She slid back and forth on it, allowing the red slimy erection to make itself seen by the audience each time, before she slid back down on it, and each time the audience cheered. With one hand she massaged the belly of the animal, to calm him and make him stand still while she did the fucking.
Now she was moving, sliding, up and down very fast. It didn't feel like much to her. It felt like Bill's little finger. But the audience loved it and so did Pepe because suddenly she felt a little squirt of hot juice and the donkey had come inside her on the last plunge.
Immediately she jumped and parted her cunt to let the crowd see the white donkey semen slipping out of her red cunt and across the slit of her black panties.
They cheered. Consuela, watching from the wings, clapped.
Someone threw her a rag, and she wiped herself. Then she descended down into the pit where the drinkers were, to talk with them, and let some of the more well-dressed men stick a finger or two up her now clean cunt, while she collected the greenbacks in an old top hat she had found in Consuela's dressing room.