Chapter III
The farm was about five miles out of the town where the bus stopped, and the man who owned it ran a small store there. He closed the store to drive us to the farm, and on the way out there I began to wonder how we were going to get around, and I asked him about that. He said that his brother-in-law had a car that he would probably rent because he had just broken his leg and couldn't drive it. He said that it wouldn't cost us very much, and if his brother-in-law wanted to rent it he would bring it over to the farm later in the day. Then he asked us if we would want a girl around the place. That was another thing I hadn't thought about. Ruth said that we could tell about that better when we had seen the place. As soon as we got in sight of the house she said yes. It was an awfully big place.
We looked the house over, and after the man had shown us around and showed us where everything was he drove away, and there Ruth and I were, alone in the country. It was very quiet when the man had gone. I thought that it would be a good idea for me to get some sleep, and Ruth said that she could use some more sleep too. We picked out one of the bedrooms and unpacked our bags and got the bed ready. Then I sat down to smoke a butt and watch Ruth undress.
“You take off your clothes like someone doing a strip tease,” I told her.
“That's funny. That's what my friend said last night. He didn't say it just that way, but that's what he meant.
She stopped and stood facing me, wearing only her stockings. My eyes ran up and down her and then got stuck at her cunt.
“Then you can forget that I said it,” I said. “Come on over here. I want to feel of you.”
She came to me, mincing on her toes. Then she stood in front of me and I put my hand out and touched her belly. I patted her belly and slid my hand over the curve of her hip and along her thigh.
“You're all right,” I said. “You're a nice girl, aren't you?”
Her leg was warm, and the flesh was firm. I slid my hand between her thighs and worked it up and down, back and forth between her knees and her cunt. Ruth's knees sagged a little, and her breath began to be faster. She pressed against me.
“You didn't think so last night,” she said.
“You weren't being a very good girl last night. In fact you were a damned nasty bitch. All day.”
“I didn't mean to do that last night. But when we were in the taxi waiting for you to get the cigarettes he started to feel me up. And I was hot. You know I had been hot all day. And when he put my hand on his prick he had a hard on and it made me want to be screwed. You know how it is.”
“You're that way all the time. You're that way right now, damn you,” I said.
Her knees sagged more and more, and she was swaying. I knuckled into her cunt and put my other hand on her ass. I held her like that and pushed against her cunt with the back of my hand. She twisted against me.
“I'd have jazzed any of them,” she said. “The fellow in the book store or the one at Charlie's. It doesn't make any difference who fucks me when I'm like that, as long as he has a prick. I should have been a whore instead of a poet, Bill. Do the girls who do anything at all-everything-make more than the girls who just screw?”
“They do for a while. And I think it's better to be a whore than a poet. You meet a better class of people.”
I took my hand away from her. She stood with her knees bent as though she might topple onto me in a minute. I started to take my clothes off, and she sat heavily on the bed. She sat with her knees spread apart and rubbed her thighs with her palms, rocking back and forth.
“Whores have a reason for being what they are, so there must be a reason for the way I am. I don't know any woman who thinks so much about fucking as I do,” she said.
She looked at my cock and my legs and my belly. My cock stood out like a big red thumb. She took one hand from her thigh and put it on mine and rubbed me the way she was rubbing herself. Both of her hands went up, until the sound of her fingers in our hair was like the sound of fine cloth being torn slowly. Her fingers touched her cunt, and then she grabbed my prick and shoved a couple of her fingers into her cunt.
“Jazzing is all I think about,” she said. “If I meet a man the first thing I think about is what it would be like to have him to screw. I try to imagine what his prick would look like, and I think of myself going down on him. I see men on the street and I have all kinds of crazy ideas about asking them to step into a doorway with me or to take me home with them. And in restaurants or on the street cars I'll see a man and then I'll sit so that he can see under my dress. I don't wear pants most of the time, and that's the reason-so that I can have men look at my cunt. And when I'm sitting like that someplace I seem to be on fire all through my body, and I can feel my heart pounding somewhere in my stomach. There must be a reason for those things.”
I pushed her backward and then I pulled her hand away from her cunt and put my own hand there. I stabbed two fingers into her cunt and moved them around between the lips. Ruth patted my cock. I looked at myself, and the end of it was like a big, shiny cherry that was splitting ripe, with the juice coming out of it.
“He Frenched me last night,” Ruth said. “I would have been back with you sooner, but when he started to do that I had to stay. I wish I had a picture of him with his face glued to my cunt. It wouldn't hurt him to worry a little too.”
While she was talking Ruth had wrapped her hand over my balls. When she wiggled against me the end of my prick rubbed her belly. I stopped feeling her cunt with my fingers and tried to feel it with my prick. The hair felt good on my cock, and the wet, smooth parts of her cunt felt even better. Ruth held my balls against her pussy and wormed herself around, and I finally knew that I had to make up my mind about what was going to be done next or I would just shoot on her belly without much of anything having happened. I yanked her into the center of the bed and kicked her legs open and rolled onto her. I was all ready to spear her, and she was lying open and I could have sunk my prick with one shot. Ruth pulled my head down to hers.
“Let's French each other.”
I pushed the end of my cock against her cunt and got the lips open enough to take it.
“You don't have to whisper. This is the country.
“I want to suck your cock! I want to suck your cock!” she shouted. “Put it in my mouth!”
“That's the idea. Get rid of those old inhibitions. Try it again.”
“I'm a cocksucker! Cocksucker! Cock-sucker!”
I continued to rub my prick in her cunt until I had it wet. I lay on my back on the bed then and offered it to her. She dove for it and sank her teeth into it and then she swung herself around and threw her cunt in my face. I dragged her up to me and stuck my mouth onto her pussy and closed my eyes. Her legs tightened and I reached with my tongue.
Ruth was still holding my prick in her hands, but there wasn't much of it left for her to hang onto because she had most of it in her mouth. She was grinding her teeth back and forth in a sawing motion, and her tongue was skimming around as crazily as a water bug.
“Just a minute,” she said suddenly.
She left the bed and went to the bureau and emptied her purse on it. She came back with a lipstick. Then she held my prick with one hand and painted the end of it with the lipstick until it was crimson. She held it and looked at it and laughed. Her mouth was wet from holding my prick.
“I guess I'll make all of it red,” she said.
“The hell you will.” I took the lipstick from her and tipped her over and went to work on her with it. I marked her cunt and her nipples and her navel. Just for the hell of it I printed: MINE, on her belly.