"That's terrible!"
"Like hell it is! Any time a guy can get a good piece of ass he's gotta do it.
Same with a woman. Ain't nobody gets hurt, and she'll remember her trip here long after she gets to Cincinnati. Still, I even get postcards from her!"
"That's still a sneaky thing to do, Theodore."
"Sure it is. But I wouldn't sell this station even if I went broke. Where else could I see all that cunt?"
"What if that woman called the cops when you broke in that way?"
"Naw, she wouldn't do that. Heck, I've done the same thing dozens of times, and I always get laid. I choose the right ones, that's why. With those magazines.
If they get turned on they're easy pickings. Already got the juice flowing in their pussy so they welcome me with open arms. Even if they didn't, they're too embarrassed getting caught with a hand in the cunt. It works out fine. Never had a complaint yet."
I thought of asking Theodore to fix me up a vent in the men's toilet. Maybe he was right after all, and there would be no harm in seeing the thousand cocks of man. No two alike, all those dangling packers with their potential to give me an orgasm. And for some reason I always wanted to watch a man pee. To watch how he flopped the thing around afterward, trying to shake off the last drop. In my tender young mind there was nothing sex that could be offensive and I wanted to sample every aspect of this grand act.
Still I didn't want Theodore to know all my thoughts so I told him he was nasty for what he did to those unsuspecting women, then I went home and tried to clean up. And I called Colin at home to tell him to keep his mouth shut.
"If you're gonna tell on me, I'm gonna tell on you too, Colin."
"Hell, I didn't mean any harm, Angie! I like you so much I just couldn't help bragging about you."
"Well, a girl can get in trouble that way, Colin. I don't want you to spread my name all over town."
"It won't happen again, honey."
"Let's hope not. If I wanta play around that's my own business. I don't need you to advertise."
"Sorry, sweetie. I'll try to make it up to you. How would you like a new typewriter or something?"
That's kind of the way it really got started. With that banker giving me all that money, and all the other men eager to pay for a touch of my fresh young body. Nobody can fight fate so I went along with the program. It was nice to have sex, it was the sweetest thing on the whole face of the earth. And to feel a little wealth come into my life wasn't bad! My parents were poor and we didn't have much, that's why I did the babysitting, to buy me some nice clothes for school.
So who's to say I was wrong when I made money with my pleasure? The girls at school were fucking penniless students for the price of a drive-in or a hamburger with onions, so if I made a lot more it didn't necessarily mean I was more wicked. I could have fucked those boys too, and ate their hamburgers after they pawed at my body with their untutored sex drives. But I preferred a man. A real guy who was mature enough to send me up the wall.
The way Gordon Powell did.
CHAPTER FIVE
"We do it every day!" Paula was happy. "Sometimes we screw two, even three times a day."
"How can you do that?" I was jealous. "Even a track star has his limits."
"Sometimes we have quickies. It only lasts a minute or so. But most of the time he gives it to me real good!"
Paula had gotten quite beautiful with her sexual fulfillment. She wasn't nervous any more, and she was talking about marriage.
"Don't you ever get the hots for somebody else? Somebody besides your boy friend?"
"Course I do. All the time. Any good-looking man will always work me up."
"So how can you be true to one guy, Paula?"
"Easy. When I get all tense and those hot flashes hit me, I go see my lover. He fixes me up so I don't need anyone else."
That sounded like a good formula so I gave myself to Colin two days in a row.
We both loved the sex, but there was something missing.
"I gotta go home, Angie," he always said. "My wife's beginning to suspect something."
So Paula's formula wouldn't work for me. It didn't work for most people, really. Colin had his wife yet he still wanted me more, and I was aware of how many husbands and wives were on the make for somebody's else's spouse. There just wasn't anything to take the place of a strange body, new emotions, or the joy of touching someone's genitals for the first time.
So I didn't feel too guilty about wanting to fuck the neighborhood husbands. In the long run I figured it was more normal than what Paula was doing. Sooner or later she was gonna get burned out with her athlete and pass around her pussy more than ever. Once a girl got turned on, there was no stopping her while the blood ran hot in her body.
Still Paul had one advantage over me. When she needed a lay she could get it easy. While I had to wait, and work, and scheme to find a pecker. All in all I had only been laid very few times, while Paula already lost count of the marvelous hours with her boy friend. She didn't even have to masturbate any more, she told me, because there wasn't time. When she got hot and bothered she went and got herself a good fuck.
Damn, she was lucky!
That's when I decided to get me a steady boy friend. One who could screw me in between my babysitting sex. I was going crazy with the desperate hungers of my own nubile body, and most girls will understand how I felt. It isn't easy to be a teenager when your breasts are busting with ripe sensations while your little pussy tingles all the time whether you want it to or not. Nature made sure we'd break all the rules, no matter who made the rules. That's why so much fucking is done in the schools. You'd be surprised how much there is! And those schoolgirl crushes are really desperate. If the teachers only understood, they could fuck us kids every goddam day of their lives! And we'd love it!
We'd get better grades too, because then we could keep our minds on the lessons instead of having cocks and balls swimming in our brains every minute.
"I always did like you, Angie," Gordon Powell told me when I asked him over to make fudge.
"I like you too, Gordon," I told him truthfully. He was easy to get excited about. A tall boy with flaming red hair, a devil-may-care attitude, he was the best baseball player the school ever had. I chose Gordon to be my special lover because I figured he'd have all that energy, enough to keep up with my growing sexual demands.
Even so he made me think of green apples, because I still wanted a grown man.
Some people like mild cheese while others need the tangy spice of aged cheddar.
"You're the prettiest girl in school," Gordon told me while I was mixing the ingredients for the fudge. "I always wanted a date with you."
"Did you ever want to screw me, Gordon?"
"Huh?"
"I asked you if you wanted to make love to me?"
You would have thought I caught his balls in the Mixmaster.
"Well gee! Sure! Uh… crying out loud, Angie…!"
Boys never like the girl to take the initiative, yet we usually do when the truth is known. Maybe not as brazen as I did, yet boys are bashful when it comes to the real nitty-gritty.
I kept mixing the fudge while Gordon stood there blushing. On the ball field he was a tiger, yet he stood in my kitchen like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. I had to make him foul, out.
"Touch my breasts, Gordon," I whispered as I slowly mixed the fudge. He glanced around as though someone could be watching, even though my parents were gone to a PTA meeting, then he reached out to touch my shoulder. His hand was shaking.