A quick check of the first lighted window and they came and told them it was the kitchen with Wilma moving around fast, taking down two glasses and a whiskey bottle and pouring very generous drinks. Then she turned and walked into the darkness as the boys crouched against the side of the house and crept along toward the other lighted window. They arrived and Lonny peeked in the window and saw Wilma coming through the door, offering Beth one of the glasses. Lonny looked at Beth lying on the bed, pillows propped under her head, a ridiculous hair dryer on her head. She still had her robe on and Lonny knew what she looked like under it and his teenage penis jerked slightly in his pants. He had to know who this hot lookin' little bitch was, and, no matter what, he was going to get his share of her even if she was just passing through.
The boys took turns looking, Lonny crouched below the window, tapping each one's leg when he thought they had enough time, checking out the action between each looker. When it got good, he would take over. A careful check of the area around him told him it was an ideal spot. A berry bush grew behind them, practically hiding them with its branches reaching almost to the house over their heads.
Inside, there was a table in front of the window with an unlighted lamp on it and a potted fern. It was a perfect cover. They could peek into the room from the darkness, peering under the fern, and seeing everything. The bed was across room and neither of them were facing the window. The one little bedside lamp was perfect to see by.
The girl on the bed, the one with the almost perfect features, a kind of dark haired Grace Kelly, reluctantly accepted the drink, sipped at it and made a face. Wilma tossed hers off like it was orange juice and laughed at Beth's polite way. She made a gesture, holding her nose and tilting her head back. Beth tired to imitate her in a refined way and swallowed half the drink and choking with Wilma patting her on the back then stroking her body.
"Hey, you're sure not used to white lightning," she said.
"I guess not," Beth gasped, her eyes running.
"Drink up and then I'll give you a massage and you can drop off to sleep."
"Oh, I'd love that. I don't know if I can finish this," Beth said, holding up the half-empty glass. She wondered if all westerners drank moonshine from an ordinary drinking glass filled to the brim. She had never had so much straight whiskey at one time before she was glad she had come. The house was a delight, neat and clean and colorful, a real western home. She felt so good and clean and warm and already she could feel the white lightning spreading through her body, warming her and numbing some of her excited nerve endings. And Wilma, sitting next to her on the bed, tenderly massaging her body, felt so good. She smiled at her and Wilma blew her a kiss. She wanted to please her and belong to the group so she raised the glass and said, "Down the hatch," and drank the rest, choking it down and catching her breath.
"Wowee," Wilma said. "Honey, honest, it gets smoother and easier as it goes along." She took the glass from Beth and said, "How about a refill? A little dividend?"
"No, I couldn't drink anymore. Honest. I can feel it affecting me already."
Wilma was about to coax or bully her into another drink when a high pitched whistle came from the direction of the kitchen. Beth looked surprised. "What's that?"
"That's the water I set to boilin'," Wilma said, getting up. "I'm brewin' us some tea to go to bed on. It's a special herb-tea folks brew around here. Relaxes you."
"Oh, I'd love some tea."
"Back in a jiffy. Don't fall asleep with that thing on your head." Wilma hurried to the kitchen and turned off the stove and set up a teapot and took down a box of mistletoe tea. There was an excited, satisfied grin on her face. It had been a long time and the last woman she had was Jake Barne's wife. She had to be careful, if Judd ever found out, she was in trouble. If anybody ever found out, she was in trouble for there were nothing but small-town minds in the camp and most of the time they were so bored they were dying for something to talk about. Everybody knew about Jake Barnes and Tina down at the admissions office. Everybody, including Mrs. Barnes, cute little Dixie herself. Wilma had been most sympathetic.
Now, she thought, she had something great. The best thing she ever had. Yes, she thought, stirring the pot of narcotic tea, even better than Judd. She was going to give this little city girl a time she wouldn't forget and maybe it could work into a steady thing.
While waiting for the tea to steep, she poured herself a stiff shot of white lightning and gulped it down, feeling the alcohol click on a section of her brain in which she felt lewd and alive and excited. Quickly, she pulled off her panties and hid them in a drawer. Smoothing her dress down, she took the pot of tea and two mugs and hurried back to the bedroom.
A quick glance at Beth told her the white lightning was having its effect. The whiskey was genuine mountain-grown, one hundred and ten proof of liquid dynamite; certainly enough to befuddle a naive little easterner who had never had it before. Beth was sitting up and had, with a silly giggle, taken the dryer off her head and her long raven hair tumbled down. She was sitting on the edge of the bed and her robe had fallen open almost to the waist and her long slender curving calves and long well formed thighs were exposed. She looked up at Wilma and laughed. "Wow, am I dizzy."
Wilma sat next to her and motherly kissed her on the cheek. "Poor kid, you're beat and I can see you're not used to white lightning."
"What a name," Beth mumbled.
"Here, drink this tea, it'll relax you and sober you up." Wilma poured the mug full and handed it to Beth.
Beth smelled the rising steam. "Mmm. Smells good. What kind of tea is its'
"Mistletoe. It grows wild out in the fields between crops. We gather what we need, dry it, and drink it. It really relaxes you. Drink up."
Beth blew, then sipped at the hot tea. "It's good."
"Drink some more," Wilma said, putting her hand on her bare thigh and stroking it.
Beth obeyed, her vision getting blurry. She finished the mug as Wilma stroked her thighs. A dreamy quality came over her, a strange kind of serenity. It seemed, suddenly, that nothing that was happening was real. No, that wasn't quite it. It seemed more lace nothing that was happening really mattered. There was nothing to get upset about. Besides, it felt so good. The stroking on her thighs felt so good and she put the empty mug down and leaned back, grinning unsteadily at Wilma who was stroking both her thighs with her hands now.
"Do you like me, Beth?"
Beth was mildly puzzled for a moment. Not at the question, but at the sound of Wilma's voice. Although she heard her clearly, the sound seemed to come from far off and something was wrong with the time: had Wilma just asked that question or was that a long time ago. She smiled back, dazed and relaxed. "Of course I do."
"That s good. I was hoping you would because I like you."
"That's nice." Beth cocked her head, it didn't even sound like her own voice.
"I like you a lot," Wilma said, leaning closer so that the heat of her breath was on the young girl's cheek.
"That's nice." It could almost be another person speaking for her. Whoever was speaking, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except to go to sleep and let Wilma run her hands up and down her wonderfully relaxed body.
"Lie down. That tea is good, isn't it? Can you feel it yet?" Wilma watched Beth carefully. Mistletoe tea carries one of nature's tranquilizers used by country folk whenever anyone was in pain. The powerful combination of fatigue, white lightning and mistletoe tea was having its effect. Beth might even drop off to sleep. It didn't matter, Wilma would soon have her awake again.