Kent Collins - First Time For Sister

"Darn old freckles," she said, rubbing a finger across her short turned-up nose. Then she pouted again and slowly let the half-frown fade into an enticing smile. Billie thumbed one of the movie magazines open and studied the photo of a blonde starlet to make sure she was doing it right. Then with her eyes on herself once more, she let her lips fall slightly apart and pushed her tongue out sexily over each one until they were glossy and full-looking.

The secret folds and knots of her cunt were still pulsing crazily, but Billie tried to ignore the electric sensations, and ruffled through a deep drawer for something to wear. She had precious few clothes, and almost always she settled for a pair of ragged, cut-off Levi's that fit low and snug on her hips and clearly separated and defined the firm little cheeks of her ass. Billie-Ann cinched them tight with a wide leather belt she'd made herself from some worn-out mule harnesses.

Finally she pulled on an orange too-tight T-shirt, which didn't quite reach to the top of her shorts and clung prettily to the soft-risen flesh of the undersides of each small breast.

A pair of sandals were the only shoes Billie-Ann owned. Her father had given them to her just before he'd disappeared. They'd been a little too large for her then, but Billie had oiled them carefully and kept them wrapped in an old pillowcase until her thin feet had lengthened enough to fit snugly within the intermesh of straps and buckles. She liked the way sandals made her feet feel naked and free. They were the only things she had left that her daddy had left her… except for the large, bone-handled hunting knife hidden in the bottom of another drawer.

It was right after her daddy had gone that Nora made Billie-Ann quit school. Not that she made it the twenty miles into town that often anyway. Lots of kids dropped out of school early in that part of the country. Some to help with farming, some because they flunked out and some like Billie-Ann, who lived so far away from passable roads that it was just too much of a hassle.

Nora had told her that they just couldn't afford the extra expense of sending her every day and though Billie-Ann went part-time for a while, she fell so far behind in her studies that one day she just never went back. She figured she wasn't missed much, because a truant officer had never knocked on the door their paintless, rust-streaked shack. But Billie had her paperback books and magazines to read. She traded them with old Willy Sudderland, the postman, and occasionally with a hired hand at another farm, Jed Judson. She didn't like Jed much at all, but he had a huge appetite for sexy detective stories and always gave Billie the ones he'd finished.

Billie had learned to read well since quitting school.

Since she hardly strayed more than a mile or two from the house and almost never went in to Dooberville, the nearest town, reading was the only way she could find out about… things. It was true they still had electricity, but the only radio in the house had been broken for months with no extra money to have it fixed and not enough saved to buy another. Her books were her life.

Billie-Ann finished fastening the buckles on her sandals and stood up.

The cover of one of her paperbacks caught her eye and she picked it up.

A woman in a sequined dress lay limp in the arms of a blond-headed detective as he shot his way out of a bedroom. It was one of Billie's favorite stories; she'd read it three times. Like the other books, this one was all about men after women or women after men, and Billie always searched every sentence carefully for some hint as to what happened after the hero and heroine relaxed in private somewhere. That was when the words got tricky and things started being left out.

She tossed the book back down on her dresser and sighed, remembering the sexy plot… especially the part where the muscled, tattooed man undressed the weak, innocent girl and dragged her into bed. Then the story had gotten mysterious and not very clear and Billie had guessed with a thrilling little flutter in her throat that the couple was doing more than just kissing. It was something like what Nora had warned her about… something like boys dragging young girls under bushes late at night and hurting them with their cocks. Whatever did happen in the books changed everything. Afterward the characters were either very, very happy or very, very sad.

"Billie-Ann, if you don't get out here this very minute I'll have some hide!"

Billie-Ann took a last look in the mirror, pushed her curtain-door quickly aside and saw her stepmother in the yard bending over the pail she was filling with feed. She could smell the acrid sharpness of chicken shit that the sun was heating up in the coop fifty yards away.

"Be there in a sec," she called, then slipped out into the cool hall and padded quickly through the house and down the front steps. She didn't have any intention of helping around the place today. It was the only time during the week that she could meet Jed Judson on his way to the farmers' co-op on the outskirts of Dooberville and pick up a few new books. She always had to walk three miles to the fork, but it was worth it, because Jed never let her down. Sometimes he even waited for her there if she was late. Besides the books, Billie enjoyed getting out of the hills-enjoyed the fifteen-mile drive and enjoyed sitting in the cab of the truck and watching the men laugh and spit and push each other around the dock of the co-op warehouse until it was time for them to load the heavy feed sacks and fertilizer into their own trucks and start back to their farms. It wasn't really much, but Billie-Ann thought she'd go crazy if she couldn't do that one thing every couple of weeks or so.

The house was almost out of sight behind her now, and as Billie crossed the dirt ruts and cut into a stand of large cottonwoods, she heard Nora's last call wavering faintly in the breeze. She went deeper into the woods and skirted behind the small parcel of land owned by the Allens, an old colored couple who'd lived in the hills ever since she could remember.

Old Allen made a fair living off of his few acres and it was talked around that his wife put up the best canned vegetables in the county.

They'd even sent their son Hanson away to the colored college upstate, Billie-Ann remembered, and then he'd gone on east to a bigger school.

Even the white folks from those parts rarely, if ever, managed something like that.

When she was close enough, Billie could see old Mrs. Allen stooping in her garden, her huge sunhat flopping whenever she jerked a weed free from the ground. Billie-Ann went on until she found the familiar path that hooked and meandered through the meadow behind the Allen farm and then dropped even deeper into the forest, passing Basset's Pond and coming out finally near the road again. It was the shortest way to the fork where she always met Jed, but most of all she liked being alone in the trees. The sun was always too hot for dirt roads that time of day and often she had time to stop at the pond and wade a little before hurrying on to the fork.

It was even nicer than usual in the woods that day. Billie kicked aside overhanging weeds and daydreamed as she walked. She'd forgotten just how close she was to Basset's Pond and was only a few yards from the water's edge when she heard the splashing.

Choking back a yelp of surprise, Billie sank quickly to her knees behind the thick tangled growth that bordered the pool on almost every side. There in the middle of the pond, knee deep in water, was a tall, muscled black man… without a single stitch of clothing. He turned slowly then and Billie saw that his face was young. Though she hadn't seen him for quite a long time she was sure at once that it was the Allen boy. The one who'd been away at college for four or five years.