It took a helluva long time to heal. And I was sore, Jesus. I couldn't even play with myself. I worked up a real lust and was wondering if it wasn't time to try it again with a boy. There was this boy in school. He rode our bus. He was a nice looking stud and I flirted with him and he with me. I kept hinting that he should come and see me, but he must have been shy.
I'd lie in my bed and dream of him while I was healing up. I imagined him doing all the things I'd read about, all the things Ruf told me he did to his girls. I'd get the delicious trembles thinking about it, and that little bastard, who could have had a willing piece for the asking, didn't have the guts to even hold my hand.
I tell you, it was a time of frustration. Cut off from my regular masturbation, feeling sorry for myself, I dreamed of him and wanted him and must have worked myself into womanhood, because the night I got my first; load oЈ come it was wild. It made me come. I felt that cock swell up and then burst in me and, wow, I was a woman. I felt that wonderful splash of come up inside of me, against my harmless womb. I mean, I could feel his come driving out into me. I'd seen him come and knew that he could shoot about five feet on the first throb and that first jet of it was something else going into me. I went wild and came and giggled as he emptied into me.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. It wasn't the boy down the road, not the boy I dreamed about. I couldn't get him to come to my house or pick me up or anything. I was ready to give him what was probably his first piece and couldn't get him interested enough to come and get it, so that left good old Ruf.
Ruf was spending about half his nights off somewhere about that time. He had an older woman on the beach, divorced, who liked young cock and he was making it with her regularly. He was telling me about it one night. It had been seven weeks since my operation. I was feeling all right and my cunt hair had grown back into a prickly, short beard.
When Ruf was home he slept in the room with me. He and I were used to each other and didn't do much in the way of preserving modesty. I slept in a tattered old pair of pajamas from the welfare grab bag and he slept in Ruf and I was not ignorant about the way a nearly grown man is built, because I'd seen Ruf plenty of times. I'd seen him soft and I'd seen him hard. He'd grown a sizeable tally whacker and he was growing as a man. He was a big bastard and tough as nails and I didn't mind having him for a brother.
That night when Ruf opened a whole new world for me he came in about half drunk. I was»reading in my bed. He undressed and fell into his cot. I looked over. His cock was limp and hanging off to one side. 'That goddamned woman doesn't know when a man needs a little rest,' he said. 'I thought you were a stud,' I said.
'A man gets tired of old cunt,' he said. 'I'm going out with JeanJtomorrow night.'
'Jean won't buy you a new suit,' I said. His divorcee was buying muchly loud clothes for Ruf. 'I want me a nice, young, tight cunt,' Ruf said.
My muff, growing out, itched me. I reached down and scratched. I saw Ruf's eyes following my hand. 'Damned stuff itches,' I said.
He laughed. 'I don't see how a man can stand a beard,' I said. 'That's the way my muff is, all short and wire-haired and itchy.'
'Let me see,' he said, getting up. There was just the one light, beside my bed.
'They say whores keep it shaved,' I said, opening my pajamas, they were men's pajamas, to show him my short-haired mound. He looked at it gravely. 'I can see where it'd itch,' he said, matter of factly.
I gave it a good scratch. He laughed and said, 'Need any help?' He put his hand down and scratched my mound. 'I don't see why he had to shave it,' I said.
'Keep germs out, I guess,' he said. 'What did they do to you anyway?' 'Same thing they did to mama,' I said. 'I guess.' 'What did they do to her?' 'I don't know. Some kind of operation. Juby wanted it because he didn't want any more kids. They did it because they said mama was mentally defective.' 'Shit.'
'It was the same doctor,' I said. 'I talked to him. I asked him if he was going to do the same thing to me he'd done to mama.' I was remembering it, then, and it made me angry all over.
'What do you know about such things?' the old bastard asked me.
I'd been waiting for a long time to tell that old bastard off. My mama had few pleasures in life, but she loved little babies and if it had been up to her she would have had a dozen. But they took that pleasure away from her, my father and the doctor.
'I know you fixed my mama so she couldn't have kids and you knew all along that she couldn't pass along her feeble-mindedness, because it was some pill pusher like you who did it to her in the first place, yanking her out of the womb with a pair of pliers or something and doing brain damage.' 'You're a sassy little snit,' he said, all insulted.
'And you're one of those bigoted bastards who goes around yelling about welfare and how we welfare people should be forced to get off our asses and go to work. You're the kind who says sterilize the welfare people to stop welfare from becoming a way of life. Well, you silly sonofabitch, here's your chance. Fix me. Then you can be sure I won't be bringing any little bastards into the world for you to have to lay welfare on.'
He punched a needle into me and I yelped, because I knew the bastard hurt me deliberately. He said, 'Unless it is absolutely necessary it would be illegal for me to sterilize you. It could be that your condition has already done the job.'
As it turned out, my condition had. I came out permanently free of the worry of ever having a baby. In the hospital, I thought about it, and regretted it a little. I felt I'd lost something. I didn't crave any babies then, but you never know. But then, as I healed, I began to think that if there really was something to this screwing thing that I might be better off the way I was. I got hot just days after the operation, when I was still in the hospital, and I couldn't even play with myself.
The doctor didn't see any of my family. No one bothered to come into the hospital, except my mother on the morning of the operation and he didn't see her then. She just found out that I was still alive and would be all right and went back home, so no one knew that I'd been fixed so that I'd never get pregnant.
I remember how the doctor put on this pious act about being sorry and I laughed at him. Then he told me that I couldn't do anything strenuous, like sweeping, for six weeks. That suited me. I don't know if his examination showed him that I wasn't virgin or if he merely assumed that I wasn't since I was just white trash. I don't think he'd have been able to tell, really, because Ruf had just fucked me twice when I was a kid and that had been years, so I assume he just thought that Juby Gore's girl would not be. At any rate, he said, 'And no sexual intercourse. Do you know what that means?'
'You mean I can't get laid,' I said, trying to shock him. He had a shit of a daughter in school. She was just a year older than I and she was one of the queen bees and I hated her guts, so I said and did everything I could to shock him. Well, I was remembering all that with old Ruf scratching my muff and grinning and then his fingers went down and felt my twat.
'They didn't take the most important part,' he said.
As I've said, Ruf was big for his age. He'd dropped out of school and was working for a bulldozer man, and he did a lot of muscular things in his work which had built up his already good body. That night, when he came in, I'd already had my bath. By that time Juby had gotten prosperous stealing waterpumps. He had installed a waterpump for us and for the first time we had running water in the house and even a John. So I was clean. Rubbing his fingers around my twat, Ruf grinned down at me. Then he did a sexy thing. It was the sexiest thing he'd ever done and one of the sexiest I'll ever see. He took his finger, wetted by my twat, and smelled it. He closed his eyes and sniffed and said, 'Ah,' and then he looked at me and grinned.
There was the light by my bed. He was buck naked. And he was built. I looked and saw that his cock had begun to throb and was lifting itself. It was one helluva lot bigger than it had been back in the days when he had me play with it for him. 'Too bad,' he said.
'What's too bad?' I asked, this funny feeling all over me. I was lying with my legs apart, the men's pajamas open to show my mowed mound. 'Too bad you're my sister,' he said. 'Didn't bother you once,' I said.
'That was before old John Henry got loaded,' he said, grinning. Old John Henry was now fully hard, standing up arrogantly against his belly just about even with my face. 'He's loaded now and I'm not going to risk knocking up my own sister.'
He was still plaving with my twat and Miss Twat was feeling it. She was gooing for him. Remember, I hadn't even so much as played with myself for seven weeks. I had night dreams now and then and had a climax in my sleep, but that was not for real. That was just nature's way of keeping down the sexual tension.
'Ruf,' I said, my heart pounding, 'you wouldn't have to worry.'
