Chapter Fifty-Five

You Get About Five Years Of Them As Billy Before They Turn Into A Ted.

"You go to a woman? Do not forget your whip."

~ Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900): Thus Spoke Zarathustra, XVIII: Old and young women

“I guess Conner just seems like the kind of man who would let me eat all the fancy cashews out of the can of mixed nuts and not get mad,” Angel had given me seven other reasons that Conner was a sensitive, caring, great listener, polite, considerate dreamboat; and none of them addressed why a boy several years younger than her, and at least a head shorter than her, had even a chance with her.

“You know I really should be mad at you!” she pouted. When my cousin pouted, she looked bratty and selfish; but the same expression on this blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl was so cute. She reminded of the little Coppertone girl all grown up – the one who is at the beach and the dog is pulling her swimsuit off.

I started to wonder about how such an advertising campaign would be perceived with today’s sensibilities when I realized she was waiting for me to ask her why she was mad. I sipped my Lindsay Lohan and asked her the question she prompted me to ask with a grin, “Why are you mad at us?”

VIOLATION #4 – Rule Number Two: The girls are expressly not allowed to have alcohol

“Well, ever since you and Savannah have been naughty enough to need punishing up at the pool, it gave Derek ideas,” I assumed Derek was her brutish boyfriend – the one with the caveman like fore brow who kept staring over at us while laughing things up with his redneck friends.

“Ideas?” I was curious about what she meant and she clearly needed prompting to share more about it. Her face and body language read like she was very ashamed and disgusted with what had happened, but her tone sounded excited – it seemed like she wanted my approval for what happened to her.

“Well,” she sighed, but couldn’t hide her need to tell SOMEONE, “I did eat all the fancy cashews out of TWO cans of mixed nuts.” She held up two long fingers and explained that ever since she got pregnant she has been craving pickle juice, ice cream, and cashews and she just can’t help herself. “Derek got mad and made me spread my ass cheeks and he shoved one of his baseball bats up my ass – I had to stand there for TWO hours!”

I looked at her in disbelief – could she be serious? That sounded so outrageous.

“I know, I know,” she nodded her head “It’s nothing compared to what you and Savannah do up there – I should not be complainin’” she silently consoled herself to accept that we had it much worse than she did. I was actually shocked by what she was saying and felt horrible that she had to endure any hardship BECAUSE of what her boyfriend saw us do – especially while pregnant.

I did not say that because I had the distinct impression there was a part of her that wanted me to say “Oh no, that is really awful – you are so tough for enduring that.” or maybe “You are one of us now - because you got punished!”

I quietly debated my answer while she continued with her unsolicited admission of what her punishment entailed.

“He didn’t used to like to do poo-poo stuff,” she crinkled up her nose so cutely at how gross it was to stick things in her ass. “After he saw all the things they stick up y’all’s butts though he said it was best for the baby if he only used my asshole,” she quietly pondered this for a moment as if she agreed with it.

I nodded in agreement. She was talking to me like I was a nurse or doctor listening to her symptoms – she looked at me as if I should be nodding in agreement with her or telling her that was wrong. I was silently remembering how hard it was to get out of the bathroom when she was crying and telling me her story a few days earlier and began to wonder if I should seek out Savannah or Ryan to get away.

“The pregnancy has made my butthole balloon up. I don’t feel like it will ever even close!” she confided with an excited whisper before asking, “You do have your plug in don’t you? Did they finally let you out of punishment?”

I wasn’t sure how to reply to her question.

I could tell her that I am under discipline and that Billy and Ryan just wasn’t enforcing it – she was so naïve and gullible seeming she would probably tell Ted and Odd-Jobs tomorrow or at the very least my brother. I was pretty sure my brother was on my side enough to keep that information to himself – but the truth suddenly seemed so risky.

The risk wasn’t just to my own red-sore ass either and the promise of a fresh wave of spankings for a night of playing hooky from discipline. If our stories didn’t add up, it was possible people wouldn’t buy it and realize that we had been doing this charade for money all along!

On the other hand, I could make up a story that we had been let out for the night, or that we snuck out; and see if she thought that was something a “cool” girl would do.

I was relieved that she didn’t give me a chance to answer before “revealing” as if I had pressed her for details “He also makes me shave my beaver as bald as all of you – he says he doesn’t want the baby to have to pass through all that hair. It makes me feel eleven years old though – like I am so fully exposed, but it is better I suppose. Do you think Conner would make me do that?”

Her body language read that she would hate the notion of being required to shave her body hair and be on display, but her tone sounded downright enthusiastic – about the possibility my brother would require it.

My relief was only a temporary reprieve because now she pressed me to answer her earlier question. “So why are you girls allowed out tonight? Aren’t you supposed to be under lock and key? I heard they are repossessing your trailer! The rumor has it that Odd-Jobs is trying everything he can to get his money before they evict your family. They say you and Savannah charged up all the credit cards so you could live like your fancy Hollywood Hills Cherry Lawn Country Club ways!”

She continued on in a long litany of aspersions, half-rumors and innuendo for what felt like another full minute before finally theorizing that we snuck out. She seemed thrilled at the idea we had – that we were bad girls.

So I did what Savannah would have done and let her think what she wanted – I lied.

Violation #5 – Rule Number Five: Girls are not permitted to lie!

“Yep, we totally snuck out!” I am not a natural liar but this past week has given me a lot of practice acting like a reprehensible snotty bitch. I confirmed EVERYTHING she said was totally true and she pressed me for details of our escape.

“Well,” I began, “you probably wouldn’t even believe it.” I shook my head, I wasn’t even sure what I was going to say and needed time to think.

“Sure I would,” there was a naïve gullibility to her pretty face that told me that was absolutely true.

“Savannah and I have to give up our clothes as soon as we walk in the door,” I admitted. That much was actually true now.

“I know – it must be kind of embarrassing?” she smiled. She seemed either turned on or just a little too enthusiastic about hearing me confess it was. I gave my eager audience what she wanted.

“It actually is, especially around my brother.” That much used to be true. He had seen so much of me now that unless I was doing something particularly disgusting – I was almost used to it. “I much prefer to wear Gucci, Prada and Louis Vuitton,” I mentioned designer outfits I never wore – a tactic I had done at the swimming pool more than once.

“Savannah and I are supposed to crawl on our hands and knees like dogs around the house – I am sure Billy makes you do that too? Bark and wiggle our asses like cute little hounds? It’s degrading but –it does teach us a lesson.” I lied and described what my Aunt had done.

“No,” she seemed to be looking up as if thinking or counting. “He has never made me do anything like that.” I may just have been reading too much between the lines, but I felt she wanted him to require her to do that from the cute smile pursed on her lips.

“Oh?” I feigned surprise that he had never required it. “It’s pretty common treatment for vain, self-absorbed, lazy bitches to treat them like –bitches in heat. He probably is worried, because you are showing, that your belly will rub the carpet. He can just tell you to lift your ass up more, spread your legs wider so that your tits rub the carpet instead of the belly.” I made a 45 degree angle with the side of my hand before continuing.

“Just tell him to put clothes pins on your nipples and one to pinch your clit closed – otherwise when you are fully exposed on all fours, and your entire pussy and ass is exposed, you will get really wet and turned on; and you don’t want to be seen as wicked for getting turned on by that treatment,” I reminded her that they would only punish her further if she got wet.

I could smell her getting aroused – and to be quite honest I was getting a little turned on. I wasn’t sure if I was picturing her or myself in that vulnerable position or why I was – but I was enjoying laying it on thick.

“I really could never,” she started to blanch. “My Daddy and all his friends are always at our trailer, and Derek’s baseball friends, and my cousins and brother, and my sister and her boyfriend and regular customer’s – it would be really humiliating.”

“Tell me about it! My ritzy, country club friends would just have a field day if they saw me rooting around with my nose pressed to the cold tile and my ass up in the air like a rutting pig. Chip, Mimi, Mandy, Tiffany – they would all just be aghast at how I had behaved – to get put into this situation. My Uncle Ted and his friends, Odd-Jobs and his family, my Cousin Lloyd – you know Lloyd right?” I was enjoying fabricating this story just a little too much now. “My brother of course – they all really like seeing me this way, but you know what is worst of all?”

“What?” her light blue eyes lit up with a special pleading for me to continue.

“Since you told me your secret shame, I suppose it’s only fair I tell you,” I acted very hesitant and the more I made her wait the more turned on she got. I saw her reach her hand to her crotch and then jerk it away to avoid the temptation to rub herself.

“Donger – the trailer park flasher – is allowed to peep in our windows anytime he wants and we can’t close them!” I said with a smile – I thought that would seem really humiliating to her.

She sighed “I have caught him at my window almost every morning since before I started growing pubes – I know how annoying that can be! I thought you were going to say niggers got to watch you.”

There were almost no black people at this party. They were mostly 18-20 years old and white. Most of them didn’t recognize me – and I hadn’t seen them at the pool. I think in part because they ran in different circles and may actually have a life or a job outside the Buckman. The guys were all fairly big guys and very handsome. Most of the girls were very good looking – hotter than I consider myself.

There were however TWO black girls at the party and you never know who is listening. I shuddered – maybe my lie had gone too far. I had been trained since birth by very progressively liberal parents not to use that word – for any reason. No matter how many times you hear it in a song – never sing along to it. The people out here though weren’t as politically correct, but how could I have guessed that such a sugary-sweet angel face could be racist?

“Oh,” she mistook my shudder at her use of the word for disgust with black people. “I am glad you get just as disgusted by niggers as me! If Derek thought I even let a nigger look at me the right way – he would probably make me get down on all fours like you said and spread myself no matter who was looking – and crawl around with my nose right at his heel like a dog!”

“Actually,” I looked in all directions before whispering, “A little nigger boy has been living with us, and his nigger family comes over regularly and Ted MAKES us stand up on the coffee table and dance for them before putting us back on the floor like animals.”

“OMG!” I thought she might orgasm right then. She made no secret about adjusting her bulging tits in her dress and I could see her nipples expand and grow. “Why is a nigger boy living WITH you? You are white?” she looked like steam might shoot through her ears at any moment – not from anger but to hear more.

“Well, naturally, my family would never allow it. We only employ them as butlers and lawn jockeys,” in truth – I had no idea what a lawn jockey even was. I just wanted to butter Angel’s bread with some more lies to see what happened. “The nigger’s next door dropped him off because they are on welfare but don’t want to pay for his upkeep – so they just haven’t come back for him.”

“That really sounds like niggers,” she nodded in approval and awe. “You don’t mind dancing for them? Shaking your tits and clapping your ass-cheeks? Twerking for them like Miley Cyrus would?”

“Naturally, I did,” I was firing on all cylinders now at my creative apex. I needed to remember this story for the next racist, hillbilly at the pool. If a black person heard me say these things though – I wondered if they would actually want to punish me after that – just because they think I am a racist snot. The idea was to be reprehensible to make money – it’s questionable if I was brave enough to say these things around someone black without the guilt of truly offending them.

I felt a sense of growing excitement as I told the made-up story.

“Anytime I complain about it though – they write Nigger Lover on my Ass-cheeks and make me take some Food Stamps over to our black neighbors and apologize for slavery.”

I thought I might have gone too far with that one because she looked like she didn’t believe me.

“Why don’t they write it on your forehead where the niggers can see it?” she asked with a seriousness that bordered on skepticism.

“Who says they can’t see my bare-ass when I come over?” I countered with a seriousness that slightly bordered on a sense of self-satisfaction I had a good answer for her question to fire back.

“They probably call all their friends on their Obama-phones to come look at the white girl shaking her bare-ass! This is why there are never enough Food Stamps for the rest of us. The blacks take them all! I never knew! And you love being treated this way? I mean you don’t love it, what I mean to say is that, you know – you know when your Daddy, or your, well, your Uncle makes you do that, it’s because he loves you. He wants to discipline you and teach you not to hold so much hatred in your heart, right?”

I was thinking of something I could say. I had worked the poor girl up into a tizzy and she had started to become a little incoherent. She could talk a million miles a minute if you let her.

At that moment, Savannah came up and grabbed my arm, “Hey Cuz, I need to borrow you for a minute!” and whisked me away with a dismissive apology towards Angel. I waved good-bye and mouthed “good luck!” as I prayed I hadn’t been overheard by the black girls at the party or anyone who knows them.

“You can thank me later,” she whispered in my ear as she whisked me away from Angel to squire me around the party, “Why are you acting so strangely?”

“What do you mean?” I replied.

“Wut do ya meen?” she mimicked me as if I had severe speech retardation and laughed. “You keep walking around like you are on egg shells – like Freddy Krueger is going to jump out and scare the shit out of you.”

“It’s just –don’t you think there is something going on here? A big party out in the middle of nowhere, that just HAPPENED to be going on when we went on a date? It is a little too good to be true?”

“This ain’t no kid-stuff like playing Cowboys and Inyuns we are at,” Savannah reminded me about the games we played in the quarry last Saturday. “This ain’t drinking beer down at the Semen Hole – anyone can go to that,” she mentioned the kids hanging out at the community pool on Seminole Avenue.

Savannah waited for me to acknowledge her before continuing, “This is the old Jacobi farm – all the people who graduate high school, but still want to party, come out here. You and I are only here because Billy is like one of the most popular ones.”

I found it hard to believe they’d turn away two slutty teenage girls from a party, but I nodded because Savannah had a way of staring you down if you didn’t agree with her.

“You need to stop acting like a scared, little, virgin bitch,” Savannah warned me to loosen up. “Play the snotty rich bitch if that is the only card you have – but don’t embarrass me. You are my cousin and I don’t want to look like a fucking asshole.”

I had to laugh – that was the closest Savannah usually comes to awarding compliments or expressing concern for others. ‘You are my family – so don’t make me look like an asshole. Be as cool as I know you really are.’ is what I took away from her advice.

“What did you think was going to happen anyway?” she asked me.

“I don’t know,” I was embarrassed to admit that I had imagined several scenarios where we were tied up and humiliated and tortured – with farm implements. I had recently had lots of dirty-thoughts when I told my perverted story to Angel and it was starting to dawn on me that some of that stuff was because I was living it in reality.

“Well,” Savannah quipped, “it is a Jacobi farm tradition that at midnight all the girls at the party get blindfolded and lined up naked. Then we are supposed to kneel and suck cocks until we correctly identify which is our boyfriend’s cock.”

I laughed at her joke – and felt a little silly for getting so paranoid. It is just that when everything starts to get good – it always seems like it turns to shit lately.

A lot of people have told me after reading this story, that they remember going to a party in High School like the one I am describing. They don’t know anyone, but it’s a lot of good-looking people who seem a little older than you. There is plenty to drink, good music, everyone is laughing and having a good time. There are a small string of lights that get turned on as it gets darker and the stars come out – people are smiling.

Savannah turned her attention back to Angel, “They call that bitch Viagra.”

“Why?” I joked. “Because she makes old men’s cocks hard?”

Savannah looked at me as if I were in second grade and shook her head ‘no’, “Because she is like a four hour erection – she just won’t go away and after you finished what you were doing with it – you don’t want it around anymore.”

I chuckled out loud – Savannah had a natural, down to earth dry-wit. I wanted to tell her how deeply racist our friend Angel could be – but Savannah was the one doing all the talking and I just let her.

“That bitch will talk and talk and talk your ear off,” Savannah gave me the background on Angel. She had won several local parades as ‘Miss Firecracker’ and winner of the WPIG Country 105.3 “Hottest Bikini Contest” - but Savannah smirked, “It’s all rigged, because her Daddy is one of the bikers who owns that radio station and that shit is totally fixed.”

I got the impression that Savannah had entered and lost the contest and that there was probably an entire story behind it, but she continued explaining that Angel got pregnant last year and had to drop out.

“Because she was pregnant?” I asked naively.

“No, because she wanted to focus on her career as an international super-spy, you dummy,” Savannah laughed at me for asking the obvious. “She was dating some derpy little geek boy, but then the Derek Hammond and his friends tracked him down one day and basically cracked his head in and kicked his little nerdy ass,” Savannah genuinely laughed at the boy getting hurt but then stopped.

“Well, it’s funnier if you knew him. He was super dorky and no one could understand what Angel saw in him anyway – but anyway, now she is with that baseball player Derek and he is jealous as fuck. She isn’t allowed to talk to anyone or make friends, or he gets pissed off – and if she does find someone who will listen to her bitch and moan, she will literally talk to you for hours.”

I tried to say that I knew that, but Savannah continued, “That bitch tried to talk to me in the bathroom up at the pool when I was trying to make money the other day and I was like,” Savannah held up the flat of her hand, “ain’t nobody got time for your bull-shit.”

Savannah sounded fairly triumphant about how she handled Angel and scoffed, “Bitch, thought she was all that in high school but now she is pregnant and stuck with that asshole.

“Do you think we’ll end up pregnant?” I asked her – more focused on myself than the rabbit hole Angel had fallen into.

“Whu-eye?” Savannah asked with her slow-southern drawl and took a sip from her red solo cup.

“Well,” I was surprised she couldn’t just extrapolate from where things have been going “I mean – I have sucked cocks for money and,” I wasn’t sure I had to come right out and say it.

“You can’t get ‘preggers’ from sucking cocks, shug,” Savannah’s mirth at how I sounded was almost comforting. “Ted isn’t going to make you fuck for money, if that is what you are asking – unless you want to, I guess.”

I was relieved she did get what I was implying, but I was more concerned about her. “I mean it just seems you are down to do whatever – and I saw how you have been hanging on Billy.”

“I’d give up the butthole and take one in the mouth for Billy,” Savannah winked at me “But,” and she paused to stare me in the eyes to show she was serious, “If you tell anyone I will destroy you – I am still a virgin.”

“Why would you care if anyone knows that?” I asked before realizing that Savannah had a certain reputation she probably wanted to maintain as a tough-bitch.

“Everyone thinks we are sluts now anyway,” Savannah shrugged and took another sip from her cup and quietly confided in me, “Let those motherfuckers think what they want. I am saving my shit for my first husband.”

Savannah stuck her butt out in a bumping and grinding motion against an imaginary dance partner as a metaphor, “They can think I am a bad bitch all they want – but I know what I really am.”

“Your first husband?” a wry grin spread across my face that she already assumed the marriage would fail.

Savannah put her hands on her hips and looked at me with mock indignation, “Have you not been paying attention to the men around here? You get about five years while they look like Billy before they turn into Ted!”

“I heard my name?” Billy found his way back to where we were standing at the party and entered the conversation.

“I was just saying that I wonder how come my drink cup was empty? It’s too bad Billy wasn’t here to make sure it was full,” Savannah teased him and took his arm. She really seemed to like him – she was usually much more rude to boys than that.

He took the cup and said, “You can fill it up your own self,” before handing it back to her with a wry grin.

“I see how it is,” Savannah chided him playfully by elbowing his ribs with a smile, “Southern Gentleman is going to make his date get her own drink, huh?”

“Southern Gentleman let you out of the rules your daddy came up with for you – I could make you suck my dick right now,” Billy offered in jest.

“Oh you could?” Savannah’s bright blue eyes seem to flicker at the possibility of his challenging her; and she held up a finger to clarify, “STEP-daddy’s rules!”

I wasn’t sure how that made much of a difference, but the two of them seemed to be engaged in a mating ritual of sorts – standing up to Savannah and joking right back was obviously a mandatory requirement for guys she liked.

“Yes, I could!” he offered back – although there was no barb or good natured jest attached to it – he smiled at her playfully.

Savannah looked down – perhaps because she wished he could have played the battle of wits at her level and kept on lobbing back her serves with something equally as witty – I really cannot say, but her playful mood started to dissipate and she became more serious. “I suppose you COULD demand I suck your dick – but if you had played your cards right I would be doing it right now because I wanted to.”

And with that she stalked off to get her own drink – with Billy quickly following behind her. I heard her mumble loud enough he could hear, “If you didn’t look so good in them tight blue jeans – I would be looking for some other dick to suck on.”

I smiled at how they seemed to be getting along – there seemed to be a merry chase between Billy and Savannah and I hoped they both caught each other. I turned around and was startled to find Ryan standing right behind me.

“Whoa, you don’t have to act so scared!” he chuckled as he offered me a fresh drink and mentioned he couldn’t find me for a while.

“Well gosh Master Ryan,” I said in a comically-over exaggerated country accent, “Ain’t that a violation of muh’ rules? Aren’t you supposed to paddle muh’ butt?”

He looked at me confused and I laughed that according to Ted’s rules for dating us – we were supposed to remain in his sight at all times.

Violation #6 – Rule Number Four: Girl’s must remain in sight at all times

“Oh, isn’t the punishment for that that you have to touch your toes ten times and stick your ass out?” Ryan quipped back jokingly.

“No Suh,’” I continued my country accent and added, “I believe you have to stick a baseball bat right up my cuke-hole and make me country line dance to Boot Scootin’ Boogie!” we both laughed at that – and I only picked the song because it had just played a few moments earlier and some of the girls at the party had line danced to it.

Angel was standing near me and accidentally overheard me. She shot me a hurt glance and walked away in silence.

“What was that all about?” Ryan noticed the moment between us.

“Nothing,” I thought about going after her to apologize; but after what Savannah had said, and knowing Angel was emotionally very fragile, she would likely cry and I’d have to listen to it and apologize for accidentally offending her for hours. I could see how she thought I was imitating her and felt bad about what I had said – but it was truly unintentional.

“Oh, isn’t that another violation?” Ryan asked, and then pointed out, “I believe rule number five, subsection J, article 2 and paragraph seven plain stated no backtalk, no sass, and no hurtful drama, did it not?”

“Technically, I don’t think it actually included hurtful drama,” I gave him a wintry smile in return for his good-natured joke.

“That’s good,” Ryan nodded. “Ted knew with women there is always so much hurtful drama that we’d be punishing you all night and never get a chance to actually have a date!”

I punched him in the arm much the same way I had seen Savannah do to others and said, “Hey, that’s not fair!”

“Oh,” Ryan punched my arm right back softly and added, “You want to talk about fair? How about letting you out of your rules tonight – if my Uncle found out I’d probably be in trouble!”

“You get in trouble? What about us?” I smiled impishly at him, “He’d probably have us pegged out on the lawn with big ole butt plugs in our asses and gags in our mouthsfor violating all his rules,” I took a sip of my new drink and enjoyed my back and forth with Ryan.

“Yeah,” Ryan laughed, “but you are supposed to be getting in trouble – that is what makes the car wash interesting for people. The stuck up and proud rich bitch and the country-queen out there getting punished for never giving guys like me a fair chance. You can add to your street cred by getting in trouble!”

I wanted to address what he said about not giving guys like him a ‘fair chance’ but maybe I hadn’t. Instead, I nodded along playfully and said, “Yeah, we can fall upon the mercy of everyone and beg their forgiveness for a night of listening to music and drinking cheap booze out of plastic cups! The horror of it all!! How girls such as WE, can enjoy what everyone else enjoys!”

We both laughed and joked a bit further along those lines while enjoying the party. The two black girls were eyeing me very skeptically and one of them said, “Mmmm, hmmmmm.” as I walked past.

They were two girls from an earlier party at the Semen Hole. Laqwanda, the short and stout one, was a little older and Clymidia, the tall and lanky one. The last time I had seen them they were in the middle of a cat-fight.

I don’t think they fit in at this party – it was all people slightly older and white. Then again- neither did Ryan and I; and who was going to tell two surly black girls they aren’t allowed at the party?

“What’s that all about?” Ryan whispered once we were away from them.

“I think they overheard something I told Angel,” I was afraid to look back and see, until I heard the two of them start to scuffle – snatching either’s other hair weave and fighting.

“Ooh! Entertainment!” Ryan seemed delighted as he turned to watch the two girls slap at each other and fight. Laqwanda was like a charging rhino with beaded hair as the torque of her big ass drove her forward into the lankier girl’s chest and knocked her onto the ground.

“You don’t seem like the type to be interested in that sort of thing,” I was surprised he was smiling. No one made an effort to break it up – apparently the two girls fought often enough that it was seen more as an exciting cat-fight. Laqwanda had already lost the cheetah-print top she was wearing and one of her tits popped out of her mesh bra.

“When my Dad told me I had to spend the Summer with my Uncle, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I’ve enjoyed people watching and learning about all the people here. It’s almost kind of funny – don’t you think?” he asked rhetorically and I nodded yes.

Laqwanda had her cousin on the ground and her crotch right around the other girl’s face as she began slapping and pulling at her hair calling, “Gimme back my weave!”

I saw Angel in the crowd – looking rather delighted and nodded knowingly.

“She is a little racist,” I confided in Ryan.

“Really? She looks so sweet and innocent, but then most of these people are.” He was so different than everyone else.

“They call her Viagra,” I told him what Savannah told me.

He guessed it meant something about getting you turned on and when I told him what Savannah had said about her painfully lasting four hours and not going away – he grinned.

“I have heard about the Jacobi farm party. They go back to the 1960s, in Senior’s time, when they first started the trailer park,” Ryan changed the subject. “You know I really didn’t think I’d get an invite to this party – it’s very exclusive. I wouldn’t have even been invited if not for you.”

“Well, I am glad something good came out of your having to go on a date with me,” I chuckled.

He pinched my bottom playfully –but not in the perverted way so many men at the Buckman did – more like he was saying he didn’t really mean it the way I took it and he knew I didn’t really take it that way either – so the only thing to do was pinch my bottom!

“See – I get you into parties with my stunning good looks and personality and this is how you repay me!” I chuckled back.

“Oh now, I am really going to pinch!” he joked as he started to playfully tease while I guarded my rear from both his hands pinching at me. “You are getting too swollen a head – we are BOTH here because of Billy Riggins. He used to be a big baseball star or something jockish when he was in High School. Now he runs around like Matthew McConaughey reliving glory years. He was Savannah’s date – and I got to tag along as your date! As your punishment!!” – He finally slapped my hands out of the way and let me have it with a sudden barrage of quick but completely harmless pinches to the bottom.

“Yeah, Savannah told me they line up all the girls and make them suck everyone’s dick!” I teased him playfully and deftly smacked his hand away. He was no threat – he wasn’t going to press the pinches and he obviously didn’t seem like he was really into that as punishment. It had been a fun little, competitive exchange between him and I – that lightened both of our moods.

“That is an urban legend that has been going around the park forever,” Ryan said he suspected that it did have its root in truth, but that it has been embellished. “The story goes that the ‘Jacobi tradition’ is all the girls strip naked, line up and kneel by the fire with blind folds. They suck every cock they come into contact with, while someone plays an old 1950s song. When the music stops, the guys move down the line – unless the girl keeps sucking when the music is off. Then she keeps sucking until the game is done or the guy is done. If it’s her boyfriend, the legend says they will get married and live happily ever after and be rich!”

“Wow,” I shook my head in disbelief that anyone believed that, “It sounds like something they tell gullible kids to get them to come out in the middle of nowhere and party.”

“Exactly!” Ryan agreed with me but added, “It’s not the middle of nowhere exactly. This was to be the corporate headquarters of the Bitterman building. A 27 story executive office building with parking garage right over there,” Ryan pointed off in the distance with a slight melancholy sigh.

The fight continued with Laqwanda finally getting knocked on her ass and her wiry cousin getting the upper hand. She had pulled off almost all of Laqwanda’s clothes and that had made the guys at the party cheer. I could hardly believe there was going to be any kind of organized ‘Jacobi tradition’ with this batch of good-old boys.

I laughed “Maybe they should have done a reverse Jacobi?”

“A reverse Jacobi?” his eyebrow cocked as he turned to address me with interest “That sounds interesting?”

“That is where the guys are blindfolded and have to guess which pussy they are eating!”

“I think I would know if it was Laqwandas!” he chuckled and slapped at my ass playfully.

“Would you know if it was mine?” we rough housed in the same way I had seen Billy and Savannah do – there was a mating ritual happening here of sorts. I was softening to Ryan and I liked what he was doing with his hands. I wasn’t overthinking where that might go – I was caught up in the moment.

“You know –I could order you to do a Jacobi tradition tonight if I wanted – and I am sure Billy would probably make Savannah do it as well”

“You could,” I agreed “but you won’t!” I smacked his ass – his jeans were tight and his butt was firm. I ran and he chased me around the willow until he caught me and we hugged. It wasn’t awkward. I thought he might try to kiss me – but he didn’t.

“No, I wouldn’t order it – but you can bet some other guy might,” he turned his attention back to the cat-fight happening about 30-40 feet away. We could see the girls were losing their clothes rapidly and with it their dignity and hair-weave. The fight had become more primal and catty – two girls going at each other and tearing each other down with words and fingers and even teeth and kicks to the ass. Hurting each other not only with physical attacks but mental ones – being stripped more to humiliate them and make them the object of scorn and ridicule of the others at the party.

“So we gon do this or wha’?” Laqwanda repeated twice as if they hadn’t started fighting just standing there almost naked with her hair completely a mess. We chuckled – the brutality of their wrestling each other seemed almost comical by the fire-light of the small bonfire they had set up.

“The funny thing is,” Ryan noticed me observing the fight, “These guys would be the jocks and frat-boys in our old high schools and we’d probably never get to party with their type if we were back home. Here we stand out and are special – we are different. It is kind of cool to be somebody.”

“You are somebody,” I assured him.

“Yes, because my Uncle is Odd-Jobs; but if I wasn’t, then you wouldn’t even be on a date with me.”

I instinctively wanted to say that yes I would – but I realized I was actually kind of stuck up because I had told him I wasn’t interested in him that way and he clearly still was into me. “It’s great that you are my friend and I am so glad I can confide in you and joke with you – you get things that most people here don’t, because you know how different it is everywhere else,” I said diplomatically.

“But?” he raised an eyebrow for me to continue.

“But,” I sighed “I don’t get to choose who I date until the end of Sunday. I did tell you I didn’t have feelings for you that way and that is true.” I could see Ryan deflate as he hung on the word “true”. “After Sunday when it’s my choice to go on a date – I will go on a real date with you.”

“Oh boy,” Ryan stared at the cat-fight that was starting to peter out “A pity date!”

He had expressed he liked me days ago and I told him I didn’t like him that way. A pity date would be something a girl does with a guy she isn’t interested in – just to be nice. It usually ends in an awkward attempt at him kissing or grasping at her and while I’ve never done one – I definitely saw his point that he might consider my offer one of those.

“Not a pity date,” I assured him I would give him a fair chance to woo me. “You just won’t be the boss of me – and have seven rules you can enforce on me is all. It will be a totally real-real date, okay?” I took his hand and he smiled.

He wasn’t as shockingly handsome as Tim Riggins and he wasn’t as muscular as Billy. He wasn’t as funny and charming as Lloyd, but he was ‘normal’. Or as ‘normal’ as guys can be, and he was smart and charming in his own quiet way. I liked him now more as we walked and talked.

We stayed close to the party – after the fight, with no clear winner, the black girls got dressed and the music continued as if nothing had just happened.

He told me the story of the farm. Old Man Jacobi had a beautiful wife and daughter and a lazy son. One day the wife and daughter confronted him about how lazy the men were and tried to get them to take better care of the farm.

“That sounds unusually reasonable,” I nodded with surprise that someone around here acted sensible in a relationship.

“Old Man Jacobi tied the girls up and made them plow the fields and work the farm – spanked their asses every day after that. He whored them out and held big parties here, where high-schoolers would come and drink and use his women,” Ryan continued the story with a grin.

“That sounds a little more like the Buckman,” I laughed.

“That’s the funny part,” Ryan explained that it turns out it had all been a story. “Old Man Jacobi wasn’t related to the women – they were actresses he hired and made into prostitutes. He just pretended they were nagging, whining bitches and put on a show out here. He made a fortune off of them and retired to Cherry Lawn when the Interstate never came through – and abandoned the farm.”

“Jacobi Supermarket?” I realized there were at least six designer supermarkets that appeal to people who would shop at Whole Foods for organic meats and vegetables in my home town. I had heard the name of the farm but never put together that it might have any relationship to the chain of stores in my home town.

“The very same,” he laughed. His laugh reminded me of the ironic one I gave Angel only thirty minutes earlier, when I was laughing at how she said I deserved punishment; and the smirking yet honest way she added “no offense”. It was as if he was laughing at the irony of his circumstances. I may just have been reading too much into it -sometimes a laugh is just a laugh.

“So where would you take me on our date?” I asked sheepishly.

“That depends – do I get to dress you only from the clothes in your Aunt’s closet?” he asked.

“No silly,” I giggled “We are going to have so much money by Sunday – I’ll be able to buy all new clothes. I will wear something really nice for you.”

He looked me up and down as if admiring my body – a look I had grown rather accustomed to since I came to the Buckman. I am sure men checked me out before this Summer, but I never really noticed their stares. Ryan’s stare was not as hungry and perverted as most though – it was more like admiration. “I am sorry – I did try to pick the most conservative thing I could find, but your Aunt’s closet looks like Victoria’s not keeping any of her secrets and the Slut Factory exploded and had a half-off sale, hah.”

We both laughed at his joke and I told him I thought it was really nice and that he did his best. “You got me a bra AND panties,” I nodded in appreciated. “The bra was cupless and the panties were crotchless, and yet STILL riding up my ass,” I reached under my skirt and adjusted the straps in the back. “Pardon my unlady-like adjustment, Sir”.

We were mostly alone and no one else was looking. He grinned and looked away – which was something of a joke considering he had already seen so much of me. It was still appreciated by me as his light-hearted attempt to be a gentleman.

“You know you could have picked anything – I really wouldn’t have minded or held it against you,” I was being truthful. This was all a bit of a game and I had to play until Sunday. I didn’t hold it against Conner either that he had to be a bastard to me sometimes – even though I gritted my teeth at him every now and then. I could still be shocked and humiliated, but I had come to accept this as the rules of the game – and I was going to have to play along. Any clothes I got were usually a vast improvement from being naked or in the swimsuits they let me wear.

“I know – I just am not that way,” he admitted while looking at the ground. “Ted wanted us to supervise you going to the bathroom and all that – I really just am not that sadistic and I’d rather not force you to do anything!”

“Good!” I did a slight pee-pee dance and bent my knee with excitement, “Because I really actually do have to go! There is a little bathroom inside the farmhouse.”

Ryan waved his hand and I was off running with a smile. I felt like I just got a free golden ticket because I was NOT going to be watched, poked, prodded, spit upon, or generally humiliated; and could just pee in peace and quiet.

I made my way through the dozen or so partiers to the bathroom and wondered where Savannah and Billy had gotten off to. I saw Angel wanted to talk to me and held up a finger. But I pointed to the bathroom and said, “I am about to get fucked in the ass hard – I really need to empty my shitter.” In the crass manner Savannah might have said without even wincing.

I giggled when I got to the bathroom- half because I finally got to go by myself without any hassle and half because of the face Angel made when she thought I really had to have anal sex and was going to the bathroom first.

I debated making my way over to Angel to tell her another dirty story about what Ryan was going to make me do – when it dawned on me that I had no reason I couldn’t use as much toilet paper as I wanted – I wasn’t being supervised in any way!

I wiped (using as many sheets of toilet paper as I damn well pleased) and confidently strode over to where I left Ryan.

He was waiting for me under a willow tree in a tire swing by a small brook of water.

“So do you want me to get another drink?” he sighed and laughed, and added, “Or should I order you to go get me one and let you drink out of this lake?”

When he looked up into my eye I took a deep breath and said, “You could order me to kiss you.”

“I could?” he seemed confused.

I kissed him.

I kissed him deeply.

I kissed him passionately.

There was no question he was a good kisser – he gave back every bit as much as I gave him with his tongue. I wasn’t sure how he was so skilled – but it was giving me tingles and goose-bumps, and it felt so real and raw. I had worked all day in a kissing booth and had to kiss any man with a blue-chip in his hand, so I had learned how to let their tongue invade my mouth. Some men were biters and would chew your lip or run their tongue along your teeth. Some men were soft kissers, some were wet kissers, some were dry as fart and stunk half as bad.

This was nothing like any of that.

These kisses put me on a cloud and made me feel high. It might have been a combination of the six or seven Lindsay Lohans I had to drink, and the fact I had so much pent up sexual energy accumulated from a week of being a tease and being teased.

Having my own body and sex-juices used to torment me and used to keep me in line through painful and humiliating lessons – had bottled up some desires that I did not know I had.

It might have also been the fact that, instead of doing this for money and the thrill of someone else – it was something I wanted to do; but we kissed for I don’t know how long.

I didn’t even realize I was naked. We had undressed at some point in the lengthy make-out. I think he ‘rounded the bases’ of playing with my tits first and fingering me. I was wet – I was so aroused and turned on.

Violation #7 and 8 – Rule Number Seven: Girls may not get aroused. Since they are sluts – they probably will, so they must stand in corner until they cool off. Ted’s primary rule: Do not under ANY circumstance have sex with them.

I didn’t feel it at first – the tip of his shaft. The head of his penis had entered me. I was not waiting for my ‘first husband’ any longer – I was no longer a virgin. This was it –it was too late to stop.

His cock expanded inside me and my pussy felt like it was wrapping around it like a glove – a sword with its scabbard. He drew his sword and then sheathed it and when he pushed himself all the way in –and to the top he made me squirm and I felt my first orgasm.

I cooed, and shook, and my entire body began to quiver. I had felt this sensation before but there was a volcano or torrent erupting that I could not hold back that was new as well – feelings attached to the sensations. “May I cum, please sir?” I asked. I don’t know why – I was under no obligation to follow rules and whether he gave permission or not – the flood gates of my pussy were going to open.

He didn’t break his rhythm – he just said “Yes” and it started. I could feel the orgasm flowing from deep within me. It was primal and, while I had cum many times over the last week often in very public and deeply humiliating ways, this one was so profoundly different.

I felt connected on a level like the first man and the first woman to have ever copulated might have felt. He thrust his cock inside me over and over, and we lay in the soft grass under a willow tree far enough from the party that no one could see us – or if they did they left us alone.

We were completely free to have as much pleasure as we wanted and I wanted – I wanted. I fucked him back and pivoted my hips in a way that I knew was pleasing. I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t spent a week grinding on dirty old men for money, but I had; and I was using every trick I could to give him pleasure because he was giving me so much pleasure.

I was riding a wave of ecstasy I had never known until then. I had pleasures during all the trials and tribulations over the past week. I had even received a vicarious thrill just telling Angel that dirty story as I watched her get a thrill – and yet, none of that was anything like this. Those were more mechanical and as the end result of stimulus usually outside of my control. This was a connection between two lovers who were both inexperienced and yet fully intertwined as one for our first real sexual experience – I assumed it was his as well anyway.

I was no longer a virgin. I don’t think I was really an innocent after this week anyway – but now I could no longer hold on to the technicality of that title. I was not sad – I was happy that it was Ryan and it was now and it was good – it was really good sex. I had never had sex to compare it to, but I knew that it wasn’t ‘bad’ sex - that was for sure!

I don’t think words exist to truly explain the feeling of wonder and awe the first time you have sex to completion. You are all at once shedding an innocence and becoming an adult and there are memories about that first time and the sensations and feelings that most will carry with them forever. My memories would be of a starry night in a farmer’s field under a willow tree with a big dick filling me with very sexual urges while satisfying them at the same time.

He thanked me – and as I came for the second, or possibly third time, I felt his warm seed flowing into me. It was thick and viscous, and so very warm. I felt happy – a glow like I had just succeeded at whatever purpose I had in life. I felt like a true woman. I felt like I might be pregnant! Copious amounts of his cum mixed with mine and ran down my thigh in the tall grass under the Willow.

Oh shit – he just came, he just came! He just came!! The thick fog of lustful, youthful love and the connection we just shared burned away under the light of the reality I might just have become pregnant!

He smiled at me. His smile at me said everything would be alright as he started to get up and pull up his jeans. I smiled back – I would worry about the possibility later. He lowered himself back down to hold me tight under the moonlight – but after a few seconds I now had something new to worry about.

“YOUR ASS IS GOING TO BE SO DEEP-FRIED NOW!!!” I heard in a very familiar voice.

“Oh shit,” I whispered to myself.