Fellatio was our thing, cunnilingus was our thing, and we practiced them almost every day for the next months. It was one of the happiest times of my life. But it ended in horror.
CHAPTER FOUR
The day – that horrible day – began as any other, and was actually quite pleasant for the most part. Billy and I worked in the fields during the morning, and then we drove into Milwaukee in Dad's pickup truck and did some shopping and various errands. We stopped at Marquette University so Billy could pick up some information. He was planning on attending the university full-time in the fall, and I knew I would miss him living at home. But my fears that day all disappeared when we stopped for a huge ice cream soda on the way back to Two Forks.
Driving back in the truck, Billy told me he had a date for the evening. I can't remember what her name was, but Tom had introduced him to this "new girl in town" just a few days before. Billy seemed very excited about his upcoming date and I was saddened by it – I was in an extremely sexual mood that afternoon, and I would have given anything to spend a few minutes in the barn with Billy, but I knew he wouldn't want to since all he was thinking about was his date.
We arrived home in time for supper, but didn't eat much. Mother yelled at us for spoiling our appetites, but we held true to the story that we had been on an all-day fast. Billy kicked my leg under the table. We could hardly keep straight faces.
After supper, Billy took a hot bath and shined his shoes and spent almost an hour in front of the mirror. I didn't talk to him much because I was depressed. I knew Mother and Dad were going to a wedding reception and I would be home alone. They had invited me to go along, but I hated those dumb affairs where everyone stands around in a hot, crowded hall and makes noise. I decided to stay home alone.
Billy left about seven o'clock – Dad let him use the pickup truck, which I thought was a pretty terrible way to squire an important date around – and my parents left shortly after that. Corky and I sat on the front porch for a long time, watching the sun sink into the fields. I felt as sexual then as I had that afternoon, and I didn't know what to do about it. The act of intercourse had been on my mind for the past week – I don't know why, but it had. I thought of it often, dreamed of it, wondered what it would be like, wondered what it would feel like.
I stood up, trying to get the thoughts out of my mind, and started walking down the walk to the road. Corky stayed on the porch, sleeping. I walked toward the orange glow in the sky to the West, wishing Tom would drop over to visit Billy, wishing that Tom would spend a few hours alone with me since Billy wasn't there.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't even see the car pass me. I only realized that one had when I saw it turning around about fifty feet ahead of me. I kept on walking, thinking nothing of it, until it slowed down right next to me.
When I turned my head I was greeted by the smiling face of a man I had never seen before, but immediately found attractive. I think now it was love at first sight. My Prince Valiant had appeared from out of the sky. I stopped walking and smiled.
The warning my mother had given many times in my youth immediately flashed through my head – "Don't talk to strangers or accept rides from them!" – and I immediately forgot about it. This guy's smile was all I needed to get me in that car.
"Hi! Listen, is the Johnston farm around here somewhere?" he asked in a pleasant masculine voice.
"Who?" I asked, thinking I hadn't heard him correctly.
"Johnston."
I had heard him correctly. "No," I said honestly, "I've never heard of them."
He paused a moment, looking me up and down. "Well, I guess maybe I got the wrong directions."
"Yes, maybe," I said, smiling back at him.
There was a strange feeling in the air and I sensed it. I was fascinated by his good looks and his deep voice, not to mention his big beautiful car. He didn't look rich, but he looked more sophisticated than any of the boys I had known or had gone to school with. He was older than my friends, older than Billy, but he didn't seem like a father-type. I secretly – in that two minutes on the road – wanted him to be my boyfriend.
"It's beginning to get dark," he said, leaning his head out of the window of the automobile.
"Yes," I said, walking slowly closer to the car.
"Is there a motel anywhere nearby? I'm from Chicago and I don't plan on spending any more time trying to find the Johnston farm."
I looked at the license plates on the car – Illinois. I thought about a motel, knowing well there was one in Two Forks and hundreds in Milwaukee, but I didn't tell him the truth.
"I don't think there's one for miles," I said, not really knowing why. Perhaps I just wanted him to stay and talk to me for a few minutes, to keep from getting too lonely. It is hard to look back now and see it clearly.
He said something about resting for a few minutes and then driving back to Illinois, which I thought sounded very natural. And so I invited him to drive up to the house and have some lemonade with me on the porch till he was rested. I almost asked him if he wanted to spend the night in the barn, but then I realized that was a silly idea. Billy had told me a dirty joke once about the "farmer's daughter" and it passed through my mind at that moment.
He agreed to stop up at the house with me, so I got in the car with him and we drove the short distance to our house. I volunteered all kinds of information.
"My parents went to a wedding and my older brother is out on a date, so I'm kind of glad you came along. I don't like to be alone." I got out of the car and he did the same.
Corky jumped up when he heard the car door slam and immediately began barking. I told him to stop, but he didn't seem to like the man, and so I put him in the house.
"Just wait here on the porch. I'll keep him in the house," I said, dragging Corky past the screen door.
"Fine," he said, sitting in one of the chairs.
"My name's Margaret. But you can call me Maggie," I said from inside the door.
"I'm Gene," he replied, smiling. I giggled and went to the kitchen to get some lemonade.
I had no fears, and not too many ideas or hopes of anything happening sexually between us. I knew that even if I thought it, I wouldn't be able to go through with it. My only sexual contact had been Billy, and I didn't know how to handle it with anyone else. Even with Tom, I felt secure because Billy was present. Oh yes, I had thought about being alone with Tom, but I knew if that dream ever became reality, I wouldn't know how to handle myself. I was scared to experiment without the help and guidance of my brother.
I took the pitcher of lemonade from the icebox, grabbed two plastic glasses and placed them on a tray, and then arranged a few sugar cookies I had baked the day before on a plate and added that to the tray. With the poise of a little hostess in my plain yellow dress, I carried the food to the porch.
When I opened the door I couldn't help but look at Gene's crotch. He was sitting with his legs wide spread in front of me and I thought for a moment I saw a long bulge in his pants, just like Billy had when his cock – I started calling the male organ a "cock" because that's how Billy and Tom referred to it most of the time – was hard.
Gene stood up and I had to take my eyes off his pants or I would have dropped the entire tray into his lap. He helped me set it on the little table between the chairs, and we both sipped lemonade as we talked.
He asked me all kinds of questions about my family, our house, my brother, my schooling. I don't remember being able to ask him much of anything because he was talking so fast and questioning me so rapidly. I know he told me he lived in an apartment in Chicago and was looking for the Johnston farm because of a business deal.