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Our Town, the town in which I grew up during the 1940s and 50s, was fairly large considering its primary economy was based of farming and ranching, a population of 25 to 30,000. There was a nearby large Air Force base which contributed significantly to the economy and population, and our town was the marketing hub for at least a 50-mile radius surrounding the town.
The town had 3 neighborhood parks as well as a large downtown park with a public swimming pool, and all the parks were well-maintained because they were well-used. There were perhaps a dozen public elementary schools feeding into 3 junior high schools which in turn fed into one central high school.
The west side of town was my family's neighborhood, and it was well defined by our own neighborhood park, swimming pool, branch library, and schools. The houses of my married siblings were clustered there, each no more than a 5- to 10-minute walk from any of the others. We had what we considered to be our grocery stores, drug stores (we didn't call them pharmacies then), churches, movie houses, candy stores, and businesses of various sorts. As a kid I can only recall a couple of friends who lived outside our neighborhood.
Like everywhere else in post-war America, there were kids everywhere. All kids played outside all the time, summer and winter, and for people born after the 1960s, it would be difficult to imagine the sheer quantity of kids you would see everywhere you looked. No parents wanted their kids inside the house after breakfast; mothers were more than busy taking care of infants without the additional burden of worrying with kids inside the house.
Where kids played was relatively unimportant. You could play in your own yard, your friend's yard, go down to the park, or take off into the countryside; it didn't matter as long as you were back home when you were supposed to be. Mothers didn't worry unless you were late getting home for a meal or for bedtime. No one telephoned home to say where they were because the widespread availability of telephones was just beginning, and at any rate telephones were for adults, not children. It would be completely normal for, say, an eight-year old girl to pop into the house to don her swimsuit before announcing to her mother on the way out the door that she was going to the swimming pool to join friends. If she didn't encounter her mother before running out the door, then she went without telling and that was perfectly okay.
I can recall hearing the expression, "Don't take candy from strangers," but it was said in the context of jokes. We took candy from strangers and anywhere else we could get it. "Be nice to strangers" was much more likely for a kid to hear than "Beware of strangers." No mother would have said that to her child; people would have wondered what kind of mother she was. We were expected to be courteous, and a surefire way of getting into trouble at home was for a mother to hear that her child had not obeyed a grownup. The image of an impudent child saying, "I don't want to," would have mortified a mother, shamed her. Well-bred children didn't do that.
One of my strongest memories from the period was the soldiers returning from the war. It seems like our town was constantly having a celebration of one type or another to honor them. Most reintegrated back into society right away, but a number weren't able. My oldest brother John was one such.
He came back with lots of medals and decorations from all the battles he was in, but he was changed. By then I had the big bedroom in the back of our house which we called the bunkhouse all to myself - all the other brothers had married and moved away - and John slept there for several months. He would stay out late and come home drunk, and then would wake up in the middle of the night yelling with what they called the cold sweats. It was all pretty scary for me, and it wasn't long before John moved out. Occasionally I would see him around town, usually drunk. That happened to quite a few of the returning soldiers. Some, like my brother, finally recovered and rejoined society, but others never did.
It seemed like soldiers were everywhere in those first few years after the war. Most I am sure integrated straight back into society with jobs and family and so on, but for a number of them, like my brother, it took some time and these are the ones you saw wandering around town. They were often horny, and us kids were one way they took care of that problem. As you passed them, you held your breath, waiting to see if you would hear those words, "Hey kid, come over here."
Some were nice and some were pretty rough with us, although I know of no instances of a kid actually getting hurt. Almost always they wanted their cocks sucked, but if you didn't want to or started to cry or whatever, they would just jack off or make you jack them off, splashing the cum in your face and over you. When a little girl was scared enough to tell her mother, she would get a hug and usually hear something like, "Those soldiers were away fighting a terrible war, protecting us. The war messed up their heads and it's going to take a while for them to get alright again. We need to be patient because we owe them. Try to understand, honey."
Annice was a little girl my age who lived on the outskirts of town toward my house. She was an extremely pretty little girl who gained immediate popularity in school because of her friendly, caring demeanor. Her family were strict Baptists who forbade Annice many of the freedoms the rest of us kids enjoyed. She wasn't allowed to go to our park, for instance, probably because her parents had heard of "Uncle Pee-pee," as we knew him, one of the returning soldiers who never made it back into normal society, a feeble-minded but harmless character who spent his time at our park exposing himself to children. I feel sure men had felt Annice up, men felt up all little girls back then, but she had never experienced the sexual episodes many other girls had by the time she reached school age.
When we started school Annice and I would walk home together. There was a school bus but since I was the only one out on our county road, it dropped me off last so I preferred to walk with Annice who would keep me company until we got to her house and then I would walk the last mile or so by myself.
We walked the same route every day. The streets in town ran north and south with little dirt side streets running east and west connecting them, and everyone living on the corners had their garages facing the side street back by the alley.
At one of these side-street garages we passed we would often see a returned soldier in his t-shirt and fatigues out working on his pre-war hotrod car, a 1938 Ford or something along that line, always smoking a cigarette with a beer nearby as he fiddled with the car. Whenever he would look up at us, we would give a little wave and say hello, but he only looked. He was a little scary.
We could see him from a half-block before we passed, and after a month or so we saw him watching us coming down the street as he was finishing wiping the car down. He watched us, and as we came past he said, "You kids come over here."
Annice was scared and took my hand as we walked up to him. He looked down at us for a minute and seeing us holding hands, said, "Isn't that sweet." Turning to enter the garage, he said, "You kids come on in here."
Swallowing our fear, we followed him inside where he sat down on a car seat which had been taken out of some vehicle and placed on the dirt floor of the garage as a place to rest. Leaning against the back of the car seat, he said, "Come over here where I can look at you."
With trembling knees, we made our way over to stand in front of him, and he sat forward, resting his arms on his knees as he looked at us, one after the other. "What are your names and where do you live?" he said, and we told him.
Annice was clearly the center of his attention, and he told her, "You're a real cutie, aren't you?" as his eyes traveled up and down over her. He held out his hand to her, and with a trembling hand she took it and he stepped her closer, up in front of his knees. "I like your school dress," he said, taking her hips in his hands to move her in closer between his knees. "Is it new?" he asked, giving her a smile.
"Uh-huh," Annice answered, trying to smile back. "Mommy bought me new clothes for school from the Sears Roebuck store."
"She did, huh?" he said. "Well, I like it," moving his hands on around her hips to pull her in further between his knees. Annice was trembling in fear, but like all kids she knew better than to resist. Kids, even Annice, knew they had better obey grownups if they didn't want trouble.
"A pretty girl like you needs to wear pretty dresses, don't you?" he asked, his hands squeezing and massaging over her butt cheeks as he looked up smiling and awaiting her answer.
Annice tried to giggle as she blushed. "I guess so," she answered.
He laughed quietly as his hands dropped down behind her knees. "You know what a pretty little girl you are, don't you, sweetie?" School dresses in those days covered the knees, so his hands were already under her dress. "I bet everybody tells you how pretty you are, don't they, baby?" he asked, letting his hands feel over the back of her legs as he smiled up, waiting her answer.
Annice tried to laugh as she blushed redder. "I dunno," she said shyly.
"Sure you do, baby," he laughed as his hands traveled up the back of her bare legs under the dress, all the way up to hold her butt cheeks inside her panties. "Are these new panties, too, baby girl?" he asked, smiling as his hands massaged over her panty-clad butt cheeks. "Why don't you show them to me?" he asked, smiling up at her. "You don't mind showing them to me, do you?"
Annice trembled in fear, not knowing what she should do, and he laughed again. "You're not bashful, are you, sweetie, a pretty girl like you? Let me look at your panties," he said in a commanding voice. He waited, smiling up at her with a face that almost dared her to refuse, letting her know in no uncertain terms that he expected obedience.
Annice tried to smile back as she reached down to take the bottom of her dress and pull it up. "There we go," he said, "let's get a good look," helping her pull the dress all the way up above the waistband of the bright blue panties with a little rosette to one side. "Oh, those really are pretty," he said, reaching to feel over the front. "These are new, aren't they, baby?" he asked, smiling up as his fingers roamed over the front of the panties while his hand on her butt cheeks held her in place. "Have you ever worn them before?"
Annice trembled as she watched his hand. Swallowing hard, she answered, "One time."
"Really?" he asked. "Did your mommy wash them for you? You have to keep this part," he said, pushing his fingers into her crotch between her thighs, "really clean, don't you?" His fingers moved back and forth over her pussy as he smiled up at her. "Did you know that?" he asked.
"Uh-huh," Annice answered, trying to return his smile as she stood trembling, tears filling her eyes. "Mommy washed them."
"Good for mommy," he laughed, his hand lifting one leg to step her foot over to make more room for his hand in her crotch. "I like rubbing right here,' he said, pushing his finger up tightly into her crotch to part her pussy lips and stroke inside. "You don't mind if I rub here, do you, baby?" he asked, smiling up at her. Annice swallowed hard, still trying to smile. "I know you don't mind," he said. "Tell me you don't mind."
Annice swallowed hard again, her terrified eyes glancing back at me for support, and I nodded that it was okay. "I don't mind," she mumbled.
"I didn't think so," he laughed. "It feels good, doesn't it?" His hand clenching into her butt cheeks pulled her in even closer.
"Mmm, your pussy feels hot, little girl," he said. "Is your pussy hot, baby?" He was breathing hard but still smiling up with his lust-filled eyes.
"I dunno," Annice mumbled, still trying to smile back as she stood trembling, glancing over her shoulder back at me with eyes pleading for help.
"It's okay," I mumbled, stepping up to take her hand. "He's not going to hurt you, are you?" I asked the man.
He laughed, continuing to stroke her pussy. "Fuck no, I'm just playing with you," he chuckled, looking back up at Annice. "You like to play, don't you?" he asked with a laugh. "You don't mind me playing with you, do you?"
Trying to return his laugh, Annice mumbled, "I guess not," continuing to tremble.
"Sure you don't," he said, continuing to stroke his finger inside the slit. "You don't want to make me mad at you, do you?" he asked, his voice serious.
"Unh-unh," Annice mumbled, tears welling up in her eyes.
"Sure you don't," he said again, "not a good girl like you. You know what's best for you, don't you?" he said, pulling her in even further and placing her hands on his knees. "Now stand here while I play with you, okay?" he told her.
"Okay," Annice mumbled, glancing toward me again for support, and I nodded that everything was okay.
"Good girl," the man said. "Now lets' get a better look at this pussy of yours," pulling the panties down over her thighs to expose the soft white skin of her pussy mound with its slit rising up from her crotch. I moved around beside the man so I could see, too. I had never seen Annice's pussy. Her pleading eyes looked at me, and again I nodded that it was okay before returning my eyes to her crotch.
"Oh, that's a sweet pussy you've got," he said, sliding his middle finger inside the slit between her legs. "Mmm, that feels good," he said, stroking the finger back and forth. "You like that, baby?" he asked, looking back up as his hand on her bare butt cheeks pulled her into him, causing Annice to rest her hands on his shoulders to keep from falling forward. "You like how that feels, don't you, baby?" he asked again.
Swallowing hard and shaking with fear, Annice mumbled, "I guess so."
He laughed. "I thought so," he said. "Let me show you how hot you're making me, baby," he said, reaching down to undo his fatigue pants and pull out his throbbing man-cock. "Look at it, baby," he said, tugging on the cock and presenting it with his hand, holding it for Annice to see. "See how hard you make it?" he said. "Do you like making men hard like this? I bet you do." He chuckled as he watched Annice's shocked face staring blankly down at the man-cock. I could tell she had never seen one before. "You like it, don't you? Tell me you like it."
Annice trembled like a leaf as she swallowed hard. "Uh-huh, I like it."
Pulling a hand down, he said, "Feel it, see how good it feels," wrapping her fingers around the shaft. "Squeeze it," he said, returning his hands to her pussy and butt cheeks. "Squeeze it harder," he said, his voice guttural as his lust mounted. "You like how it feels, don't you?"
Annice's body was shaking as she looked at me for help, and again I nodded for her to agree with the man. "Uh-huh," she mumbled.
"Give me your pussy," he said, slipping his finger back inside her slit, "while you pull on my cock for me." He moaned pleasurably as his finger stroked inside while Annice tugged on the cock. "Oh yeah, your pussy's good and wet, baby," he said. "You're a hot little cunt."
Annice was doing as she was told, pulling at his cock, when he began to tighten and shake. "Oh fuck, baby, you're making me cum," he groaned, wrapping his hand tightly around hers to jack off, pressing her body downward, forcing her knees to bend until the cock was pressed into her pussy slit.
"Oh fuck!" he moaned with his hand on her butt cheeks pressing her into the cock, and the first load exploded into the slit. "Oh God, that's good," he moaned, and the second load exploded over her pussy mound. "Oh God, you little whore," he moaned as the next load splashed into her and began running down her legs. "Good girl," he gasped, and the next load exploded out on to her crotch, over and over until he finished cumming.
With his arms around Annice, hugging her to him, he panted hard, regaining his breath. "Bring me that towel," he said to me, pointing it out. Rolling Annice around to sit on the side of his hip, he lifted her leg up on to his to open her crotch so he could mop the cum off her. "You really got me good, baby," he told her as he cleaned. "I really cummed. You've got a hot little pussy," he added, giving it a squeeze.
Standing her up in front of him, he said, "Was that fun, baby? Did you have fun?" he asked as he pulled her panties back up into place.
"Yeah," Annice answered, trying to smile, visibly relieved it was over.
"Good, we'll do it some more then," he chuckled. "You kids run along home now, and we'll do it again tomorrow."
Annice softly sobbed as we began walking on home. "Please don't tell daddy," she said. "He'll kill me."
"I won't," I said, taking her hand. "That was your first time, huh?"
"Yeah," she said, sniffing back the crying. She looked up at me to ask, "You've done it before?"
"Yeah," I said. "It happens to everybody, don't worry about it. They don't hurt you as long as you let them do what they want. They just want to jack off and then they let you go, okay?"
"Okay," she said, still thinking about it. "I never saw a man's thing like that before," she said.
"You've watched your brothers jack off before, haven't you?" I asked. Annice had two teen-aged brothers.
"Yeah, but they're not grown like him," she said. She thought about it more. "Theirs isn't big like his was," she said.
I laughed. "Some grownups got bigger ones than his," I said. "I've seen 'em."
"You have?" she asked, her eyes growing wide.
"Yeah," I said, puffing up a little with my superior expertise. "They're all different, but all any of them wants to do is squirt their stuff."
"Oh," she said, thinking as we walked on. She gave a shudder. "I was really scared," she admitted.
"You did good," I assured her. "You get used to it and then you're not scared so much. They just want to mess with us."
"Oh," she said. She was feeling better as we walked on. "Do you think he's gonna do it again tomorrow?"
"Probably," I said. "He really likes you, I could tell." She scrunched her nose. "We can go a different way tomorrow if you want," I suggested.
The next day we chose to walk down the next side street over, but the day after that he was waiting there for us and led us back to his garage, telling us that from then on we had better walk down his side street if we knew what was good for us.
"Yessir," we both said, and we didn't because we didn't want him spanking us. This time he took off his pants and underwear first before sitting down on the car seat and pulling Annice in between his knees. While Annice played with his cock he lifted me up to stand with a foot to each side while he pulled down my pants and underwear to lick and suck on my pecker and nut sack. Annice's face looked shocked as she watched, and I nodded down to her that it was okay.
Then he pulled off Annice's panties before lifting her up to lick her pussy. When she tried to pull away from him, I grabbed her arm. "It's okay," I told her. "He's not going to hurt you, just let him do what he wants." As the man's tongue dug into her pussy, I said, "See? He just wants to lick on it. It doesn't hurt." She gave me a wane little smile as she stood holding his head for balance.
I couldn't resist sucking on the big man-cock, and when I did he moaned, "Oh, yeah," pressing my head down on to the cock as he brought Annice's face down to tongue fuck her while I sucked him off.
"What did it taste like?" Annice asked as we walked on home.
"I dunno," I laughed. "It's okay, I like sucking on them. Do you want to suck on it tomorrow?"
We walked on in silence as Annice thought about it. "Maybe," she said.
"If your mother will let you, you can come out to my house and we can play with each other," I suggested, "if you want to."
"Okay," Annice answered, and then giggled. "That sounds fun."
The next Saturday I took her to the park for her first time, and she let a man take her into the boys' restroom. Annice always had lots of courage.
Every kid had a story like that. Anyone who didn't must have felt awfully ugly or undesirable. Pretty girls like Annice had lots of stories. At first she was scared, but she learned what was coming and got used to men carrying her behind the bushes, as we called it. In a way it was a status symbol for girls, a kind of beauty contest, you might say, and it was exciting. A little girl would come running up to her friends, saying, "Guess what happened to me?"
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