"Easy"

A story by LuvsItWet

Copyright @ 2010

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It isn't easy being easy.  I don't care what you hear about the up side of spending a lot of down time on your backside.  For women, it's a problem.  For young girls, it can be a disaster.  I know.  I've been there.  I've done that.   I have the stretch marks to prove it.

Let me jump back to the beginning.  Or at least, the first I remember of the beginning.  

My earliest memory of the trade offs that are expected of girls was about the same time my older brother must have been going through the change of life.  He went from being a dick head to having a dick head that summer.  He shared the experience with me in every way he could.  

I was about nine or ten at the time and doted on the bastard.  I worshiped the water he walked on.  For years, he had treated me like shit.  I followed him everywhere for the privilege.  

That summer, he changed.  Sort of.  

We were out somewhere on the farm where we lived with parents and one other sister.  Parents that were too busy to notice that their youngest daughter had caught the attention of their and recently pubescent son.  There are lots of places to slip into out in the boondocks.  Fun places.  Hidden places.  I had one that interested my brother.  A  place he wanted to slip into.   He carefully negotiated me out of my pants.  It was just my first opportunity to be easy and I jumped at the chance.  We probably didn't do much that first time but I had easily slid over the edge of the slippery slope.  

Within a few days or maybe weeks, but certainly by the end of that summer, I was hooked on just about every kind of sex known or dreamt of.   I was easy from the start.  Almost every day, we found some nook to examine my cranny.  Hayloft, weed patch, ditch bank, empty chicken house.  You name it, we had a use for it.  

We went from looking to touching, to feeling, to tasting, to poking and prodding, to inserting foreign object in all the openings either of us had or could pretend we had.  It's a wonder we didn't do harm to some of the places we had with some of the things we put in them.  

He found he liked licking my little split.  I found I loved it.  I found he liked it when I sucked his reason for living.  He found he loved me when I would.  I was so easy.

It was hot the day we finally did IT the first time.  I remember the nightmare like it was only yesterday.  We had been working up to it for a long time.  Well, he had.  I didn't see it coming.   If I had, I'd have insisted on something more than spit and sweat for lubrication.  We were only a few inches into the experience when the oversight became obvious to us both.  Him losing his virginity was just as painful as me losing  mine.  He lost his hard on when the salty sweat got in a tiny tear in his foreskin and I couldn't get to the water trough fast enough to cool off my cooter.  I hope he remembers the fun we had that day.   

It wasn't such a disaster to stop me from sneaking into his bedroom a couple of nights later and sneak back into mine an hour or so later with my very first cunt full of boy cum.  We were hooked.  

The next spring, he blabbed to his best friend what we had been doing together and I had to pay for that kid's silence with free pussy.  Hey, it didn't cost me anything and like I said before, I was easy.  I kind of liked being the center of attention.  

Two more of his friends got lucky over the next few months.   Thirteen year old boys don't keep things like free nooky a secret very well.   Our little farm was a very popular hang out for a growing number of new ex-virgins.  

That's pretty much how it went for a couple of years.  Not all that often, maybe twice a week with the other guys.   Nearly every night with my big brother though.   

One of the other guys that was a little older, got his license and could get his dad's car so I started sneaking out on dates with him.  Nothing special.  Usually down to the river and into the back seat.  Sometimes there'd be other boys there in the dark and I was easy.  I pulled a train before I even wore a training bra.  I was the first girl in my class to get a bad reputation.  The girls avoided me, the boys loved me.  As often as they could.

Then puberty struck.  One day nothing, the next day more than I could deal with.  Tits and hips.  Hair every where.  Zits and body odor.  And PERIODS.  Not at all obvious, but on my mind constantly, was the simultaneously lurking FERTILITY.  Keep in mind that I had been studying advanced sex education for three years by that time.  There weren't many surprises for this little farm girl.

I put my kitty entirely off limits to anything that even resembled a penis.  

I held out for nearly a week.   

Then I settled for condoms and calendars.   And hand jobs and blow jobs.  A faggy little guy that kind of hung around talked me into trying it up the butt one night at a beer party in a vacant house in town.  He couldn't keep it up to get it in but I was all lubed up and fired up and let one of the other guys do it to me just to see what it felt like.  I wasn't all that crazy about it but it became a fall back position when all other forms of weak resistance failed and the timing was too risky.

That all worked real well until just before Christmas of my eighth grade.  A crazy mistake, a bad risk, and circumstances collided right behind my belly button.

It was a cold winter  weekday afternoon.  Between getting home from school and dinner.  My brother had changed clothes and done the outside chores.  I was still in my school clothes, doing homework then helping mom.  We thought she was busy in the kitchen when he pulled me down into his lap across the overstuffed chair next to the old pot bellied stove.  A little foreplay and I skinned my panties off and flared my full skirt over his lap as he opened his pants.   I told him it was a bad time.  He said he'd pull out and shoot in my underpants.  It seemed like a good plan in the heat of the moment.  

We fit together like the practiced fuckers we were.  I was bridged across him, legs over one arm of the chair and elbows propped on the other.  Humping my little ass off.  I loved the feeling of him deep up in me like that.  

Just as he started to push me away to make a mess in my underwear, mom, standing right next to us, asked for me to peel the potatoes.  Big brother panicked and froze in place.  Balls deep.  His prostate gland couldn't see mom so didn't know what the big fuss was all about.  It went ahead and did what it did best.  I could almost hear the little wriggly tailed sperm cells bounce off my cervix.  

Mom was no dummy.   She turned back to the kitchen saying something about us tearing ourselves apart and getting cleaned up.  She knew.

Morning sickness and no menstrual periods over the next two or three months were a dead give away.  She already had my summer planned out when I sheepishly announced my deilicate condition to her and dad late that spring.  

The last week of May, I took a Trailways Bus to Spokane to help take care of my "sick" aunt.  Mom had arranged with the school for me to quietly complete my classes a couple weeks early.   I was just barely starting to show.   I wouldn't be fourteen until the following November.

Aunt Matilda, Tillie in the family, was a story all by herself.  At the time I stayed with her, she was between her second and third husbands.  She had made a similar mistake to mine with a high school sweetheart.   Her folks, my maternal grandparents, had thrown her out and changed the locks.  The jerk responsible for her delicate condition denied ever knowing her.  

She worked the truck stop/casino parking lot out by the interstate until the baby was born then hit the road.   She was always vague about what happened to the child but later told me that she's given her to a woman that clerked at the gas station.  

When she got her shape back, she polished the brass pole in a sleazy strip bar outside of Fort Wayne for a few months.  She hooked up with, and later married,  a long distance trucker that pimped her ass for peanuts from coast to coast until she got smart and hid out in Maine surviving on anything that paid the rent.  

In Maine, she met and married a nice guy that loved her and took good care of her most of the time.  When he wasn't drunk or high.   Then he beat the hell out of her for exercise.   Then his fishing boat didn't come home one night.  

She hit the road again.  I got two or three stories about how she eventually wound up in Spokane with a big house and a respectable bank account.   Mom thought she'd won a lottery of some kind.  I think it was drugs, prostitution, theft, extortion, forgery, or good luck.  Pick one.

I had only met her a couple of times before that summer.   Nice, conservative woman a few years older than mom.  She didn't say much and didn't stay long.

I wanted to get back on the bus when I saw her in the Spokane depot.  She was easily the high spot of a lot of peoples day that day.  Screaming my name at the top of her lungs.

Imagine.  

Mid forties, bleached blond, fifty dollars worth of make-up and perfume, short short white see through shorts, european wedge sandals with four inch heels laced almost to her knees, a crop top that showed boobs below and above the crop.  Lots and lots of boob.  

It was too late.  I had gotten myself into this mess, I was going to have to live with it.  

My opinion of her started to change by the time we got my bags and dragged them  out to the parking lot.  Til, as she insisted I call her, loaded my stuff in the hottest fire engine red Corvette on the planet.  Like everyone drove a car like that, she blasted out of the parking lot into a whole new life for me.  

"Honey."  She said over the sound of the engine and the whistling wind, "The only rules you have while you're here with me, is:  "There ain't no fuckin' rules.""

That set the tone for the summer between my eighth grade and freshman year in high school.  Being easy was getting a lot easier for this little girl. 

The "No Rule" rule wasn't exactly true when it came to my baby though.  She had already made an appointment with her doctor.  He got me started on a pretty strict prenatal program of good diet, vitamin, exercise, etc.  No booze and no drugs.  He was the nice old guy that supported me all the way though.  He never criticized or questioned me.  For that part, I have always been grateful to Til and mom.  Lots of girls don't get that kind of support.

By the end of the second day with her, Til had easily put together the whole story of my life.  I think she was in a way pleased that I was as easy and sexual as I was.  When she asked me to guess  how many boys I had let fuck me, I couldn't give her an honest answer.  I didn't know.  I knew it was a bunch.  

By the end of the second week, I was starting to miss all the attention of all those  boys back home.  It was the longest I could remember going with out some form of friendly assault.  Being six months pregnant may have even made it worse.  I wasn't exactly climbing the walls but I sure as hell was distracted.  My itches needed a scratcher.  

Aunt Til read me like a book.  One night, after a nice dinner, a bubble bath, and a chick flick, she offered to rub my back.  I found out that boys weren't the only ones that could scratch itches.  Like Woody Allen says, "Being bi doubles your chances for a date Saturday night."  My world nearly stopped when I felt a long slender finger edge past the gusset of my very wet panties.  It backed up and turned around when I felt a long fat tongue follow a couple minutes later.  

By the next morning, I had been patiently led through the reciprocation process a couple of times.  Hey, I was easy.  I jumped into pussy lapping with the same enthusiasm that I had learned to suck cock.  Insies were just as much fun as outsies in my book.  

It was only a few days after my first taste of girl-on-girl sex that my perverted aunt introduced me to another first.  We'd had a couple more sessions by that time, I think.  I was very comfortable with her, I do know that.  

In the middle of the night I was rudely awakened by Til shaking me out of a deep sleep.  "Baby.  Baby.  Wake up."  I groggily came to some sort of conscience.  She was naked and at first I thought she wanted a little pussy play.  At the moment, I would have rather just snuggled under the covers and went back to sleep.  

"Come on, sleepy head."  She said.  She sounded giddy or excited.  "I want you to meet someone."

I'm sitting on the edge of my bed, half asleep, totally not ready to meet anyone.  She's tugging at my hand, trying to get me on my feet.  I wanted to go back to sleep.  

My tummy was just starting to blossom and my bladder was being pushed into a tight corner about that time.  I begged her to let me go pee before I agreed to anything.  When I returned from the potty, only a little more awake, she said, "Come on.  I want you to meet an old friend of mine.  I've told him all about you.  You'll love him."

"HIM."  That got my attention.  I hadn't seen anyone but Til, the doctor, and strangers in the street since I had arrived in Spokane.  I was wide awake.  

As I stood up to go with her, she grabbed the bottom of the big old oversized tee shirt that I used for a night gown and whipped it over my head.  "You won't need this."  She said as I recoiled slightly.  "Ah, hell.  You won't need these either."  She giggled as she stripped down my cotton grannie sleep pants.  I was quickly as em-bare assed as she was.  

Down the hall and into her dimly lit bedroom wasn't but a second or two.  I wasn't ready for what was waiting for me there.  

Propped up on a couple of pillows in Aunt Matilda's king sized bed, (I had been spending some time there recently) was the biggest, blackest, ugliest man I had ever seen in my whole, entire life.  

I turned to run but Aunt Tillie was right up against my back, blocking my way out.  

"Sugar."  She said.  "I want you to meet my friend, Stewart.  He just got in from Idaho."  

"My God!" Was my first thought.  "She knows a black man."  My second thought was :  "We'll all be killed."  Then it was thoughts of my baby and rape and...and...

I looked back at her and I'm sure the terror showed in my face.  I had never had any dealings, in any way, with African Americans.  I had seen them but never even been close to one when I was thirteen.  Stewart may as well have been a Martian with his saucer parked on the lawn.

"It's OK, baby."  She sort of chuckled.  "He won't bite unless you ask him to."

To say I was stunned would be an understatement.  I couldn't move.  I was stark naked in a room full of strangers.  It was a nightmare.  Aunt Tillie was behind me and the great unknown was  in front.  I could feel myself start to shake.

Tillie must have realized the seriousness of the problem and just pushed right through it.  It has taken me years to get that brazen.

"Stewart wants to watch me eat your pussy."  She said.

That shook me out of the shock.  I don't know why, but I think I may have climaxed on the spot.  I went from being scared to death to being relieved of all responsibility in an instant.  The shift was climactic.  

As Stewart lifted the covers on our side of the bed, Tillie crowded me from behind.  

"Go on, you'll love it." She said.  All I remember is the contrast of his skin with the white sheets.  I put one knee up on the bed and Tillie pushed my tush.  I was easy.

We talked for awhile.  Just normal, everyday stuff.  Where he worked, why I was here, what I wanted for the baby, how Aunt Tillie had met him, etc., etc.  I got comfortable being snuggled in between them.  That must have been part of the big plan.  

Then I felt Til's hand on my tummy.  Then I felt his hand on my boob.  Then she kissed me.  Then he kissed me.  With my eyes shut, I couldn't tell he was black.  

By the time my aunt slipped down under the covers and up between my legs, I was half way to heaven.  When Stewart turned up on his side, holding me with one arm and petting me with the other, I was getting there fast.  By that time, I couldn't get enough of his kisses.  That man was probably the very best kisser I've ever known.  Way better than the boys back home.

I only moaned when he asked me if he could look.  All he was going to see was the top of a middle aged woman's head over the top of a bulging baby bump.  I could feel his interest poking me in the hip though.

Stewart was entranced by the view.  I wanted to stay there forever.  Being the middle of so much attention was new for me.  I had been with more than one person at a time before but they were just kids.  I was now in the hands of experts.  

To get deeper and more into me, Aunt Til pushed one of my legs up over Stewart and the other one toward the other side of the bed.  I was like the wishbone of one of mom's fried chickens.  I was so easy.  I didn't even feel it at first when her long skinny fingers were replaced by the end of his long hard cock.  

He was big but he didn't hurt me going in.  Just a feeling of being stretched.  Aunt Til moved her face up out of his way and concentrated on my clit.  By the time I felt Stewart's ball sack press up against the cheek of my butt, I decided there was a huge difference between fucking with men and playing naughty games with little boys.  

It must have started getting a little crowded down between my legs.  Til kissed her way up over my bulge, to one of my nipples for a little suck and a quick nibble.  Then to my lips where I got a taste of my musky pussy juice.  Then she kissed Stewart, giving him a little taste too.  He moaned and pulled my head into a three way kiss.  God, that was hot.  

I heard him whisper something to Til but couldn't make it out.  She just giggled like a little girl and moved on up the bed to straddle my shoulders.

"Show Stewart what I taught you"  she said.  I was so hot by that point, I would have done anything either of them asked.  As she lowered her crotch down to my face, I could smell her.  As she covered me with her wet, open heat, I realized Stewart had been in the house for awhile that night before aunt Til included me.   She was full of him.

We went to sleep with me in the middle, a thoroughly fucked and a happy little girl.  Sometime later, after my crowded bladder drove me to the bathroom again, I crawled in on the other side of Stewart.  He must have thought he'd died and gone to his own heaven when he woke the next morning sandwiched between two pale skinned hotties.  I woke up to moans and groans and a bouncing bed.  

Stewart only stayed that one night and part of the next day with us, but I was sold on adult men.  And I wasn't afraid of the black ones anymore either.  

Over the next couple of months, until I got too big and clumsy, I met several of aunt Tilie's boyfriends.  She was a pretty popular old gal in those parts then.  I was only included with two others besides Stewart though.  And only once with each of them.

Most of my sex life was limited to a night or two a week with aunt Til.  Right up until the night before I delivered a bouncing eight pound boy, she got me off with her fingers and tongue.   

I never saw the child my brother made in me.  Mom and aunt Tillie thought that was best for both me and the baby.  I didn't like it at the time but later had to agree that it was the right decision.  

I was three weeks late starting my freshman year in high school.

I didn't stop being easy but I did start being a damn site more careful.  

The End