Bill Starr - Meanwhile, Back at the Sex Farm

“What did you do this morning?” Ruth asked.

“I met a friend of mine when I was coming back from Toby's. We bought these records and then I went home with him and laid his sister.”

“That must have been fun. Did he lay her too?”

“Not while I was there. He fell asleep. I don't believe she was his full sister, anyway, so he probably lays her when he gets a chance.”

“Wouldn't he jazz her if she was his full sister? Is it less incestuous the way it is?”

“I don't believe he bothers to think about that. He never mentioned it.”

“He must be a very good friend if he takes you home to give you his sister. Don't I know him at all?'

“I haven't seen him in a long time, and we didn't go there to see the girl. We went there to play some records, and the rest was accidental.”

“Incidental, with you. Was she very pretty?”

“She was prettier after she'd been laid. She was brown. She was brown all over.”

“Is that a joke? If it is I don't understand it very well, I'm afraid.”

Ruth had all of her clothes off, and she walked across the room and slid down on the floor in front of me.

“Let me see your cock,” she said.

“It's just the same as it was this morning.”

“Show me your cock, you bastard.”

She pulled at the front of my pants.

“If you don't get up off your knees I'll do more than show it to you. I'll stuff it down your throat,” I said.

“I've gone down on better men than you.”

“You've sucked off a bunch of fairies. I don't know any other girl who has done that. How many of his friends did Toby make you French?”

“I didn't keep track of that. I don't have a dirty mind like you have. Did your little black girl go down on you this morning?”

“She was brown, not black.”

“She didn't do it after you jazzed her, anyway. I can smell her cunt all over you. Your cock reeks of it.”

She had my prick in her hands and she was sniffing it and touching the end of it with her tongue and making faces when she tasted it.

“You're not going to let a little cunt taste bother you, are you?” I said. “Not when you're always so anxious to get my heat under your ass. If you had a good dose of cunt some time you wouldn't be so squeamish about finding it on a prick.”

“It's always on your prick. You taste of cunt more often than anybody I ever sucked off.”

“I think you really like it when it tastes like that, or you wouldn't talk so much about it. Why don't you get a girl and French her? You haven't tried that yet.”

“I'll suck your god damned cock!” she said.

She stuck it into her mouth and pulled on it. She sucked it so hard that the end of it hurt. Then she held it in her fist and licked it and jerked me off and rubbed the end of it on her mouth.

“Maybe I will get a girl and go down on her,” she said. “Why not? Why don't you take me to see that girl this afternoon? She tastes good. She tastes better than a lot of other cunts your prick has been in. Her brother could jazz me too. That's another thing I haven't tried; I haven't been laid by a black man. I'll tell you something else, too. If you had come home fifteen minutes earlier you'd have found me trying to suck off Toby again! He couldn't even get a hard on, but I wanted to suck off somebody, and I Frenched him anyway, and I offered to suck his ass-”

I stuck it into her mouth again to keep her from talking, because I didn't want to hear anymore about Toby. I was getting god damn sick of Toby; hearing about him and having anything to do with him was nothing but a pain in the ass, and it was too easy to imagine her doing the things she was talking about. I kept my prick in her mouth and made her suck it until I thought I was going to shoot, and then I yanked it away from her.

“Go on and shoot if you want to. Don't mind about me; you can't stop now,” Ruth said.

“The hell I can't.” I stood up and shoved my prick back in my pants. I almost shot anyway, and I would have if she had managed to hold onto it a couple of seconds longer.

“Get your clothes on and let's get the hell out of here,” I said.

I went into the front room and smoked a butt and played Louis Armstrong's “Gut Bucket Blues” and the first movement of Koussevitzky's recording of Sibelius' Second, and then Ruth came out all dressed up and we went out.

There was all kinds of shit at the bank when we tried to cash the checks, but I found a teller who knew me and we walked out with more money than we had had in a long time. Ruth wanted to eat at Uncle's so she could flash one of the century notes on him, but I said to hell with that and we went to a place where the food was decent. Ruth talked about going to the country on our money, and the way she told about it was better than anything I have ever heard about the country, and I finally began to almost believe that it would be the way she said it was. There was a lot of talk about drinking milk and sleeping late in the morning, and I liked that, and there was some more about taking a typewriter and me doing some work and I wasn't so sure about that part, but most of it sounded pretty good, and I didn't see why we shouldn't try it.

The place will probably be full of nice little farm girls who don't know anything,” Ruth said. “I hear that they are awfully easy to lay. It's all the nice fresh air and the eggs they eat. It makes them healthy, and being healthy makes them easy to get.”

She was giving the country a real build-up, and I said finally that it was all right with me if we tried it, but I wasn't going to come back with the Great American Novel all nicely typed and tied with blue ribbon. We decided that we would figure it all out later, and we went out to get the books I wanted.

There was only one fellow in the book store, and as soon as we walked in I noticed that Ruth was interested in him. He was all right, I guess, but I wished to hell she wouldn't do that when she was with me. She started to talk to him about some book and she got him back of one of the counters, and I knew then that she was getting the poor bastard so hot that he could hardly hold himself. I changed my mind about buying the books just then, and after I had picked out a couple I paid for them and we went out. I was sore about that business, and I didn't try to hide it when we were outside of the place.

“Jesus, you're a bitch! Can't you even give me a chance to buy some books?” I said.

“Oh Bill, you should have seen his face when I moved up against him behind the counter! He kept looking at you, and he was afraid you'd notice, but he couldn't keep himself from getting a hard on.”

“You don't understand anything. Sometimes I believe you don't feel anything either. Do you think I can go back there and buy books now?”

“He's a perfectly nice boy. He'd never remember you anyway, because they have a lot of trade at that place.”

“Sure,” I said. “And every man who comes in brings along a woman who gives the clerks a free feel. My god, you're sloppy.”

“It's all right for you to say that; you had a fuck already today. And what the lousy hell have I had? Toby.”

“If you mention him again I'll slam you,” I said. “I don't want to hear that nancy's name.”

We were passing Uncle's, and Ruth took my arm and we went in. We had our drinks at a table, and Ruth moved her chair around by mine and commenced to feel for my prick.

“Damn it,” I said, “if you don't stop I'll throw you on the bar with the other tidbits.”

“I'll have to suggest something like that to Uncle. A slice of bologna and a slice of ass. With the clientele he's got that would be a knock-out.”

“You're going to have us thrown out of here again. Uncle doesn't like to have you around since the time you came in here with just your coat.”