appreciated as they got more saucy, but her flesh was also responding to the intimate pressure of my leg against her thigh. It is my experience that when it comes to intimacies between the sexes the flesh never lies. The tongue can speak falsehood in abundance, but the flesh can only reveal the truth of the senses under the skin.
Come the evening, when my hands held her firmly around the waist as I helped her down from the wagon for our first overnight stop and she fell against me with her arms around my neck, the signs were clear-she was ripe and ready for 'it'. By the time we got ourselves disentangled 'it' was getting embarrassingly hard inside my trousers. With encounters like this one there was, after all, something to be said for the life of a travelling salesman. Although a twenty-five-year-old married man, who could blame me for falling for the temptation of a pretty young girl with beckoning eyes.
In the darkening twilight after our supper I invited her to help me to search for more wood for the fire. She rose to her feet without a word and like someone in a trance allowed me to lead her by the hand to a patch of grass surrounded by thick leafy shrubs.
As she lay on her back looking up at the stars above us I made my first tentative move. Unbuttoning her blouse I made free play with her firm young tits with the nipples pressing into the palm of my enfolding hand; they became firmer and larger when my lips nibbled at them. It wasn't long before my tongue was between the luscious lips of her mouth and my hand was travelling lightly over the soft full flesh of her thighs which opened out as soon as I touched them. As I said, she was ripe and ready for 'it'.
The slight swell above her cunt with its fine curly hair felt as warm and smooth as a dove's breast and when I cuddled it in my hand it arched upwards like a cat's back when stroked. Gently fingering the nub under this 'Mount of Venus', I brought her passions to a head. She was gasping for breath as the intensity of her pleasure increased. In no time at all, my trousers were off and I was between her pliant legs with a lusty cock throbbing hard to get inside her. The warm, moist vent clasped him firmly when I thrust him forcefully up her as far as he could go.
Pushing hard up against me, she wiggled frantically and getting her hands on my back pulled me to and fro until I was having a hell of a time just trying to keep my cock inside her. For the first time in my life a girl was screwing me-I didn't like it. By the time she reached a climax my cock was beginning to droop and was losing interest in the proceedings. This was something right outside my expectations, although I must admit that, up to then, my only experience had been with my wife, Maude, who always lay like a placid cow when I got on top of her.
Up till the time I met Maude my life had been confined to the farm, working from early morn until nightfall. We had the land, but not the means to work it properly or to stock it with cattle. Barely scraping a living, we struggled on year by year making slow progress in enlarging our herd of cattle. There were very few opportunities for me to meet girls, or for social activities. I was nineteen when I attended my first barn dance and then it was only by accident that I did so.
After delivering a load of hay to a farmer about twenty miles from my home, a wheel shaft cracked just as I had started on the return journey. Getting the shaft repaired took three days and on the third night I was invited across to a nearby farm to a barn dance where I met Maude. She was patient with my ignorance of dance steps. I was clumsy to begin with but soon got the hang of it as I have a natural rhythm in my limbs. Drinking a lot of cider before the dance got under way loosened my legs and helped me to overcome my shyness in strange company. To get to the point quickly, Maude suggested a breath of fresh air would cool us down as we were both sweating after three or four dances. Being unaccustomed to alcohol, the cider had dulled my brain and I have only a vague memory of Maude loosening the buttons of my breeches and her guiding my cock into her. It was my first fuck and to this day I cannot recall anything about it.
Waking up with a splitting head the next morning, I set off home, giving no thought to Maude and what had happened the previous night. Apart from the fact that she was a big, plump eighteen-year-old girl, I couldn't bring to mind any features of her face and wouldn't have recognized her if we had met again the following day. The good God says, 'Take what you will-but pay for it.' And believe me, I have been paying dearly for that drunken fuck ever since.
Three months later, two very angry parents turned up at our farm with Maude to announce that I had fathered a baby onto their daughter. My upright parents, after recovering from the shock of this news and learning further details of how it happened, made it plain to Maude's folks that I would do what was right and marry their daughter.
Confused and embarrassed by the outcome of some event that was but a blur in my memory, I stood dumbfounded, unable to grasp what they were saying. This big, clumsy lump of a girl was a total stranger to me and yet both her parents and mine were discussing dates and places for a wedding when Maude was to become my wife. Someone who was to share the intimacy of a bed with me for the rest of my life. It was like a nightmare from which I longed to awaken, relieved that it was only a dream after all.
Turning to Uncle Andrew, my mother's brother, in the faint hope that out of his great wisdom some other solution could be found to solve this problem, achieved nothing. He sat with head bowed, taking no part in the discussion about arrangements for the wedding, gazing into the fire as if the sparks from the burning logs were of more interest than the talk going on around him. I had more respect and confidence in my Uncle Andrew than any other man alive. He was the source of my education and knowledge of the world and had taught me to appreciate good books and the wisdom that was to be found within their covers. Although physically broken by a chest complaint that brought on frequent fits of coughing, he hadn't spared himself in giving me an education that was to stand me in good stead for the rest of my life. My faith in him was limitless and that was why I devoured every book he gave me and studied hard under his tuition, yet in my hour of greatest need he remained silent and withdrawn.
I didn't know what to think. Was this man who loved me as if I was his own son leaving me to a fate too horrible to contemplate? It was only after the wedding when cold reason took over that I saw clearly that there was nothing he could do to stop this marriage which was to be ill-starred right from the beginning. As he explained to me many weeks later, we each of us must be responsible for our own actions, and it is not excusable to claim that we were drunk at the time. I now realize that it was my undoing, drunk or sober, to take what was offered to me.
Before the wedding I was taken to meet the minister who was to perform the ceremony. To my surprise he berated me, giving me no opportunity to defend myself; calling me a fornicating sinner was one of the milder accusations he threw at me. Working himself up into a fury, he informed me that I was an immoral, unprincipled, depraved, degenerate sinner whom God would never forgive. He demanded that, for the sake of the well-being of my soul in the future, I get down on my knees there and then to pray with him for my escape from the fate of Hell's flames when I died.
Deeply disturbed by the force and power of his oratory, I approached my uncle to seek his more enlightened views on my so-called heinous sins. When he heard what the minister had said to me he laughed himself into such a fit of coughing that I began to fear for his health and reason. It took him nearly half an hour to recover his breath and get some colour into his face which had gone deadly pale after his bout of coughing.
'You look like a whipped cur,' he commented when he got himself composed. 'I'm disappointed in you, Elmer. After all the teaching and philosophical talk I have given you over the years that you should let a ranting minister of religion disturb you and fill you with concern for the destiny of your own soul.'
Seeing the misery in my face, he changed his tune. 'Alright, I'll give it to you straight. God gave you a cock so that you could fuck, in the same way as he gave you a mouth so you can eat your food. Everything has a place and a function in this life of ours.'
He stood pondering on what he was going to say next then, speaking very slowly, 'Running through all living matter is a life-force which has to be used for everything we do. Don't make the mistake of calling it pure or impure because it's neither; it dissipates its power in a great diversity of forms and in none is it entirely good or bad, for there are no absolutes in this world of ours. It is up to each and every one of us as to how much of this life-force we use for whatever we have got in mind and, believe me, we have very little control over what goes on in our mind. The mind is just as mysterious as the rest of the universe and that goes for your ministers of religion as well as everyone else. God only knows what goes on in their minds when they are not telling the rest of us what we must and must not do. I'll bet they have just as many shameful thoughts as you and me.'
He turned toward the house. 'When you get into your head, Elmer, that you are no better or worse than most everyone you will have just about got it right. Look on the bright side; everything is changing all the time; bad times don't last for ever, nor do good times. Every day there is something to laugh about-if you look for it-and every day
