met. Half-shy… I waved again. He was a funny guy, just drifting around. I wondered how old he was, twenty- three, twenty-four? When his brake lights blinked and he swung out of the court I felt a funny kind of emptiness in my stomach. I went inside. Daddy was snoring drunkenly in his chair. My depression came back strong and heavy; I felt like I was trying to breathe underwater. In the bathroom I brushed my teeth, brushed away the taste of Phil's mouth, the taste of his cock. Then I went to bed.
When I first began to wake up, I wanted to sleep some more. All the morning had to offer was the memories of the night before. Everything was just going to pick up where I'd left it. Janey would be over sometime during the day to remind me of things I didn't want to be reminded of. Sympathy for a virgin. What was wrong with being a virgin? It didn't make me look any different, walk any different… Or did it? I remembered Janey's swaying, sexy gait and wondered if getting fucked really did change the way you walked. I squeezed my eyes tight, pretending that I was still drowsy. Birds twittered loudly outside my window. What was missing? My mom and dad arguing like always… this morning they weren't. There were no voices at all, no sounds from the front part of the trailer. I turned over, looked at the sun on the wall. It was late. I wasn't sure just how late, but late enough for Mom to be bugging me. She didn't like me staying in bed past seven. Then I saw the note behind my clock. Mom's handwriting. I reached it down, looked at the hurriedly scratched words. She hadn't wanted to wake my dad, had gotten out early so she could help Mrs. Caruthers with something at the church. She'd see me at noon. I smiled, shook my head.
I looked at the wrinkled mess of my clothes on the floor, glad I'd stuffed my ruined underwear in the bottom of a drawer so no one would find them. The clock said ten. I was hungry.
The mess on the stove told me dad had fixed his own breakfast. Fixed it while he was hung over, too. I scrambled me some eggs, mixed fresh orange juice. Dad would be working at the bridge site until late in the afternoon, Mom wouldn't be back till noon. I was rested, but lazy. At loose ends. I ran a tubful of water and stayed in it for a long time. After I dried, I powdered myself with some talc my aunt had given me for my birthday, wondering idly if sixteen was the legal age for such luxury. It was funny but when I went back in my room to dress, I didn't really want to. I looked at the pale-blue panties in my hand and then put them back in the drawer. I did a twirl before my mirror, noticing the way my tits quivered when I put my heel down hard. There were splotches of powder on my belly, on one leg. A tinge of white hung in the dark brown of my pussy curls. I made a coy, silly face and lifted my hair above the nape of my neck. What had Phil said about my body? A fine little ass… yes, that was it. I tried to forget Phil, tried to guess what he'd meant. Little like narrow? I wasn't really big in the rear like some girls. My waist was small enough tough to give me nice curves where they were supposed to be. I ran my palms down, tracing the outward flare of my hips, the bulge of my pelvic bones. I licked my lips like I'd seen Janey do once. It looked silly. It didn't feel comfortable to see myself like that. Maybe I was the shy type, shy like my friends back in Billings had always said. One thing I knew for sure, I didn't want any more dates for a while. Not the kind of dates Janey seemed to like. I danced before my mirror, fucked my ass out and then laughed again at how silly I felt. But movement did something to me, made me shiver. I touched a hand to my cunt mound. It was silky with the perfumed powder, and I brushed the kinky mat of hair until I felt more shivers.
It happened so fast. The rushing flood of sensations seemed to have been waiting since the night before when Phil had gotten me excited and when I'd diddled myself outside the room where Farley and Janey had fucked. Now those tickles and breathless thrills swamped my senses. Even when I pulled my hand away from my cunt, the need to put it back again won out. I was ashamed that I actually wanted to finger-fuck myself again when only the morning before I'd had an orgasm. I didn't think anyone did it that often, did they? I couldn't stop to think, couldn't stop putting my fingers a little deeper into my slit. When finally I felt the hot wetness of my pussy juice, I jerked my hand back and ran from my room.
The empty whiskey bottle on its side in the front room, but not quite empty. I picked it up, hands trembling. Why did Dad drink this stuff, to make him better? To make him feel good? I put the bottle on the table and turned back towards my bedroom. The house was so empty; I was so alone. My hands brushed down my belly again and I pressed the puffy gash, ached to wet my knuckles again. I knew that being by myself in the house all morning was no good. I knew I wouldn't be able to keep my fingers out of my cunt. I'd either have to leave and take a long walk or finger-fuck myself to a climax. I looked at the amber liquor in the bottom of the bottle. Would a drink ease my tension, maybe make me think of something else? I picked the bottle up. Yes, I'd take a little drink and then get dressed. The hot booze almost made me spit it back out, but I choked it down and put the cap back on. I felt like I was fighting against myself. My Lorrie self wanted to do what was right, what my mother always told me was the proper way to behave. But another self, a self without a name pulled me in another direction. That was the part of me that was enjoying being naked, enjoying the powder on my body, the touch of my fingers inside my sappy, hot gash. I picked up the bottle again, determined to chase one of the Lorries away. Which one would I chase away?
'I'm acting so dumb!' I said to the walls. 'There's nothing wrong with me. I'm not going crazy. I'm going to put on my clothes right now and then go outside and sit under a tree and read a book.' The sound of my voice was reassuring. I felt that my two selves were coming back together again. Now to get dressed. I was halfway down the hall to my room when the knock came. I looked around for something to throw over my shoulders. My robe. I clenched it under my neck and hurried back to the front room. It was probably Janey. She'd said she'd drop over…
CHAPTER SIX
The door on our trailer opened outward, and when I turned the knob, someone pulled it out of my hand. The door swept back and Tony stepped inside. I was just surprised at first, confused. My hand swept a glass from the table by the divan and it crashed with a tinkling splash of brittle shards.
'I'm leaving so I thought I'd drop by to say so long.' Tony closed the door behind him. He loomed closer, eyes on my legs, my bare feet. 'Watch out, you're going to step in the glass…' His hand hooked behind me, pulled me forward against his chest. The robe fell open slightly. Tony's smile lost some of its shyness. His blue eyes danced over the naked tops of my tits.
'I was getting dressed. I…' My face burned red. His hand tightened around my waist, and when I tried to twist away, I knew that he was every bit as strong as I'd first imagined. 'Tony… would you let me go?'
'Where's your mother?'
I glanced towards the bedrooms. 'She's taking a nap.'
'You're lying.' He licked his blond mustache. 'You're alone.'
'Please let me…' The roughness of his mouth against my neck made me gasp, twist my head away. Both of his big arms circled me now and when I tried to get my arms free, my robe parted, slipped back over my shoulders. Tony jerked it down until it hung from around my hips. He kissed me wetly on my face. Twice I kept my mouth away, but finally he held my head and pushed his tongue between my lips. Now I knew what he was – a drifter, a guy who'd met my dad one night and come back to screw the daughter the very next day. His hand went to my cunt. I tucked it back under, pushing my ass as far out as I could. But Tony wedged me against the wall and forced his fingers into my pussy curls.
'You were waiting for me… your cunt's wet.'
'No… no I wasn't waiting for anybody. I…'
He rubbed over my clit, rubbed it again. The fleshy nubbin collapsed in its slick hood and then began to swell with blood. I writhed wildly to free myself, but Tony was as big as a gorilla. I smelled his musky odor, felt the roughness of his callused hand curled under my ass.
'You smell like a princess…'
Somehow I got a hand free, somehow I found the courage to bring it down hard across his face. Tony let his head spin with the blow, laughed back at me.
'Okay, baby, if that's how you want it…'
I was on my back on the sofa almost before I knew what had happened, Tony's knee in my belly. He yanked the belt from my robe and made a couple of quick turns, binding my wrists together. Then he picked me up, one arm around my waist, the other circling my thighs.
'Don't scream.' His eyes had lost any shyness, any mercy. Just those wards, flat and sharp. I looked with
