same composed, unaffected expression. Dorothy went back to the dishes and did her best to ignore the childlike catcalls and whistles of Len and Vic as they left. After the dishes were done David went to his room and the soft strains of his gentle flute music filled the attic. Dorothy was still bothered by the antics of their stepbrothers and knew they would have to contend with them for a full week alone. She went up the stairs to the attic bedroom and knocked. The music stopped. “Come in,” David said. She entered the room and sat next to him on the bed. He looked so clean, so beautiful half lying against the headboard in his white tee-shirt and gently waving blond hair, that Dorothy wanted to immediately kiss him, comfort him, make all the hurt he must be suffering go away. He smiled, flawless white teeth glistened at her and she smiled back. Her teeth were as straight, as gleaming white.
“How can you take it?” she asked. “You mean the ribbing from the he-men?” he asked with a slight tilt of his head. “Yeah. Why don't you say something back?” He shrugged and placed the long, intricately constructed silver flute across his legs. “It wouldn't do any good. It would most likely just make things worse.” “I just don't understand how you can keep from screaming back at them.”
“Sometimes it's hard.” “Don't you want to change them? Make them look at you differently?” she asked. “You mean prove to them I'm not the little fairy they think I am?” he asked. Dorothy couldn't look at him. She didn't know what to say, he brought it up so matter-of-factly. But his hand reached out and tenderly lifted her chin up until their eyes met. “Face it, sis, they're not the only ones. Most of the guys at school consider me some kind of queer… maybe I am.” “Huh?” she asked with surprise. He laughed. “I don't mean it that way. I'm not a homosexual. But I'm also not the type of guy who's going to win any ribbons at a rodeo. I'm thin, I'm not strong and tough, I can't stand the smell of horseshit, steer-shit, bullpiss and human body odor. Those seem to be the things all the guys around here love.” Dorothy started giggling and nodding her head with full agreement. “So face it,” he said, “I'm real queer by cowboy standards.” “But does that mean you have to put up with their abuse?” “It sure does. Vic and Len don't know anything but how to be tough, rough, bronc-riding cowboys. The only way I could shut them up would be to bash their teeth in some noon on Main Street. And you know how that would turn out, my teeth would be the bashed-in ones. I value my teeth more than I do the whole bunch of snickering jerks in this town.” “But maybe if you tried… or threatened.. David shook his head. “No. I won't waste my time.
I've got my life to live my way… and my plans.” “Plans? What plans? Is that why you can put up with it?” “It sure is.”
“What are they? What are you going to do?” she asked. Dorothy now felt close to David, closer than they'd been in months. She watched as he closed his eyes and lifted his arms up behind his neck to cradle his head. He was slim but not skinny at all, he had the build of a sleek swimmer, narrow hips, thin arms and legs. Once again she was reminded of the male models in the fashion magazines she saw.
“I'm going to do what everyone expects me to do. As soon as I'm through with school it's goodbye Texas.” “You'll go away? Where?” she asked. “New York. As far from cattle as I can get and as close to the arts as possible. I want to study music, really study it,” he said. Dorothy felt a heaviness in her stomach. “You'd leave me?” she asked. “Would you rather watch me be ridiculed by the fine gentlemen of Billford?” Dorothy wanted to throw her arms around him, hug him close and press her mouth against his she was so overcome with a feeling of loss… a feeling she had last had the day her father died. But she stood and went for the door, she didn't want to turn back because her eyes were wet, but she had to say, “Ted and I decided not to go out for a while.” “That's good,” David answered. She quickly left the room.
CHAPTER FOUR
The first rays of the morning sun coming through the bedroom window woke Dorothy. She stretched and rolled over. The house was quiet, very quiet. She sat up. Her mother and Jake were supposed to leave early, Vic and Len were taking them to the train station. She got out of bed, slipped on her houserobe and looked into the master bedroom. They were gone. The bed was made, they had left without waking her to say goodbye. She shrugged and went back to bed. But sleep evaded her as she lay there looking out the window, wondering what she would do. Do with her life. The conversation with David the night before still bothered her. Not so much that he would leave some day but because he at least knew what he was going to do. She didn't.
Soon she'd have to start looking for a job, or get married.
That's what all the girls did. It wasn't very appealing. The jobs in the area were all related to cattle, some office work where they needed girls to file records or keep books, or being a waitress in town and feeding the men who handled the cattle. Dorothy soon realized she wasn't that fond of the smell of cattle either. She was lying on top of the bed and her fingers one by one fidgeted with the buttons of the robe. It was unconscious at first, popping one open, moving down to the next and opening it. Then she reached inside and felt her breast, felt the pleasant warmth and smooth texture of the nipple. It began to harden, pucker, lift up to her gentle strokes. She inhaled deeply. The hand moved down and a button came open before she touched it. Her flat, firm stomach was like fine velvet to her fingers. The slope from below her full breasts to the end of her rib cage was slight, then it plunged abruptly down to the belly which swept gracefully down like a wind-blown sand dune. The lowest point of the flesh plateau was the navel, the small knot of flesh snuggled inside a delicate crevice. Her finger moved inside the hole to touch the knot, make a small circle and slide back out. From there on down the flesh seemed to grow even softer and started the slight upward rise. A rise which abruptly ended when Dorothy's fingertips touched fine, soft hair. A thousand threads of silk waving atop the crest of full, mature womanhood before all the anatomy plunged, converged, collected into a mass of tender, swollen tissues.
Dorothy moved one finger down to touch the ripe skins alongside each side of her vaginal opening. It was warm, easily excitable flesh which thrillingly responded to even the slightest touch of the fingertip. She then moved sideways and felt the loose skin of the pink-lipped hole. It waited there, relaxed, wrinkled, ready to expand willing around the stretching circumference of a warm, throbbing cock.
She opened the rope completely and exposed the curving, firm lines of her body. Long, limber legs developed over years of active sports, dancing, swimming. They held no excess flesh yet were fully formed, curving, as good as any she'd seen in the lingerie ads. She stretched them out straight, then slightly apart. She inhaled deeply and the two pointed breasts lifted earthily into the air. Each pink nipple strained up from the top, large nipples, perfectly round with pulpy little caps surrounding each pin-hole. The rim of each nipple was trimmed by tiny bumps of extra- sensitive skin. Her back arched to thrust the breasts even higher as if she were begging for some man's mouth to materialize and clamp down on the enticing tips of pink. Then with a sigh she exhaled, her belly sucked in and her waist appeared much too small for the fullness of her smooth, round hips. The finger teased at the pussy lips, gently first, then with a little more action until the pinkness turned to a more brilliant tone of red. A first trickle of moisture showed at the lowest point of the slit, just a dew-drop sparkle of cunt cream. But the finger now probed deeper and incessantly rolled back and forth across the thickening, expanding chord of her clitoris. The moist-ness spread upward to soon have the whole gash glowing with its own draining happiness. Dorothy closed her eyes and shifted her weight on the bed. The legs opened wider and pulled back to offer more and more of her heated crotch to the self-manipulations. The tip of her tongue slid between tightly closed lips to wash back and forth, to stroke the lips of her mouth into their own form of excitement.
She sighed again and the finger dug deep inside her hole. As it withdrew the thick juice coated it, she plunged it back inside while using a second finger to continue the exciting stroking of the pounding clitoris. She felt warm, good, carefree from her toes to the top of her head as the morning sun sprayed across her nude body and the accurate fingers touched the areas crying for the most attention.
Her other hand squeezed each mounded breast forcefully and came up to pinch each nipple until its color matched that of the fluid-running pussy. The hand never left her body as it trailed down to her waist, alongside her hip and to the rounded fullness of her backside. It squeezed the gentle flesh while moving around and into the crevice of her ass. She used her index finger to stroke the anus, to make small circles around this tiny pink dot. A new excitement trembled through her cooking body, a wild tingle of extreme pleasure. She pushed at the muscular hole until it eased back and the fingertip slipped inside. Taking her time, going easy, she slowly worked the finger halfway into the asshole and stopped. Her two holes, the cunt and the asshole, were both now quivering with ecstasy.
Her anus felt like the finger was much larger than it actually was, especially after she gave it another push
