"Momma… what do you want me to do, spend the rest of my life here in Sludge Falls!?"
"Don't you be bad-mouthing this town. Your daddy and I've been here all our lives, our parents lived here… it's the place where you come from and it's always going to be the place you call home. Don't you ever kid yourself different!"
She slapped the big mound of dough that she was kneading for emphasis and turned to check the oven temperature. She was baking bread, which she did every three days, whether we were out or not. What was left over, she gave away.
"What would your daddy think if he knew what you was fixing to do?"
"He'd tell me to do what I thought was right, that's what he'd do."
"Yes, and then he'd die from a broken heart."
"Momma, he's already dead."
"Yeah, well, don't be confusing me. If he was alive, it'd kill him."
What I was going to do was marry Elwin Zimmler. Elwin was the oldest son of the local druggist, also named Elwin. My Elwin, however, was nicknamed "Hunter" because that's what he liked to do more than anything. His family had a lodge up in the mountains that they used, although his younger brothers didn't care too much about it… and his daddy was getting too old.
Trouble was, my momma didn't like him. That was all. She just didn't like him. Kept muttering about bad blood, and tainted money, but all I could get out of her was a lot of cryptic references to big cities being dens of iniquity and the fact the money corrupts, no matter who or what it comes in contact with.
Hunter really did have a good bit of it… a lot more than he ever got from his daddy.
And he wasn't too talkative about it.
"Made some investments," was all he'd say.
But I didn't need to know. I was young, and I was in love, and I wasn't wilting to listen too much to what my momma had to say.
I met him when he came into the restaurant where I was a waitress, and we got to talking, and I thought that he was gorgeous, and that he'd changed a lot since the last time I'd seen him, which was about five years earlier when he'd gotten out of the army and came home for a little while. But then he'd gone on to New York, and now, here he was back again, not saying much of anything about what he did in the city, but flashing money around like he had lots more where that came from, and for a little girl like me, just fresh out of high-school, I was impressed and amazed.
Real impressed and real amazed.
He was friendly, and funny, and he seemed to be the kind of person that knew exactly what he was talking about… and who knew exactly how to get what he wanted… and before long he was asking me what I did, and what I wanted to do, and would I maybe consider going out on a date with him somewhere high on my list, and before that night was over, I was in the front seat of his car making out with him, and his hands were crawling all over my tits and up my dress and I felt like maybe I should be more careful, but damn, he was just so damned gorgeous, I couldn't quite bring myself to stop.
So I didn't.
He started to unbutton my blouse, and I let him, looking down at his fingers as they expertly unfastened each button.
I felt a shiver race through me as he pulled the material aside.
My tits were nicely formed, and they were extremely sensitive to touch, particularly if it was a gentle, delicate touch. He had one. In fact, he seemed to know exactly how to make me get aroused, without even seeming like he was putting any effort into it.
I'd gotten so used to clumsy guys from my school pinching me, and getting their cocks stuck in their zippers and coming all over my hands/dress/their jeans/etc., that to suddenly have someone touching me that KNEW what he was doing… it was a shock… and a very pleasant one at that.
His fingers slid easily over the contours of my breasts, and as he pulled my bra straps over my shoulders and unclasped the cups from each other, he complimented me on the way they looked.
I blushed.
"Does that embarrass you to hear me say it?"
"No… I mean… gosh… I've never had anyone tell me like that before."
"Like what?"
"Like… making me feel like it's okay."
"Why wouldn't it be?"
I wasn't sure how to answer, so I fumbled around a moment before I said, "Well, you know how it is… with girls I mean… my momma's always telling me that guys are just dirty, and all they want to do is to… you know… fuck… and…"
"What do you think I've got on my mind?" he asked, smiling. "For that matter, what the hell do you have on your mind, coming out here to make out, and let me take your clothes off, if it's not fucking?"
I felt even more embarrassed, and I was really glad that we were sitting in a dark car. I didn't need him to see my cheeks getting red on top of me feeling silly already.
But there was something about him that made me think it was all right… something that said he was different… and the way that he took my shirt off was only part of it.
He also was real good at making me feel comfortable… and making me feel like instead of running from him… instead of thinking that his designs on me were bad and something that I should avoid, I should be glad… and go after him.
Maybe, like my momma said, I was getting a real good con job.
I didn't feel like it at the time.
I felt like I was getting an education… a much needed education.
He placed his hands on my tits and gently began to squeeze them, manipulating each of my nipples around and around in circular motions… going more and more softly as I got more and more aroused.
He had lots of patience, and that was nice… because I didn't have much experience and if he'd pushed me, I'd have gotten real skittish.
I'd have gotten scared.
Instead, I got hot. Real fast.
I felt a tingling start between my legs, and at first, it was just a pleasant, warm sensation, but pretty soon, I could feel it beginning to localize itself right in my clit. I was already well aware of that little button, and what it could do, and I was more than willing to feel it getting hard and stiff… but I wasn't ready for what he was going to do to it.
He left his hands away from my crotch for a while, and I guess that was good, because it didn't take too long before I started to wonder if he was going to go for my pussy at all. Every boy that I'd ever known shot his hands straight for it, right from the start, and I was always trying to pull them away, or saying things like, "Not so hard," and "Please… go easy on it," and things like that.
With Hunter, I was wishing that he'd do the same thing to my clit that he was doing to my nipples. Which was gently playing with them, making them hard, and making them tingle with the most pleasant sensation that I'd ever experienced.
But he took his time, and the longer he took, the more I wanted him to touch me there between my legs.
I pressed my thighs together, and the pressure seeped down into my cunt, rubbing the inner surface of my pussy lips over the hard shaft of nerve-endings, and the sensations that spilled out through the rest of my body almost at once were so intense that I let out a low moan.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
I started to feel embarrassed again, but I managed to assure him that I was. I'd also felt something else, besides pleasant sensations.
I felt a lot of juice gathering in my panties, seeping through the material and already starting to coat my thighs. They'd rubbed over each other with an oily slickness.
I wanted him to touch me, so bad I was afraid that I was going to do something really silly like ask him to.
And then, I asked myself, "Why not?"
After all, what was wrong with telling him what I wanted? The way he was touching me seemed to suggest that he was interested in making me feel good anyway… I'd never been touched that way by a man before… and it damn sure felt good…
So, I said, "Touch me… touch my pussy. Please…"
He didn't stop. Instead, smiling at me, he pulled his hands away from my breasts and lowered his mouth to my left nipple.