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Subject: {ASSM} RP, edited. LaDonna and Sparky, mf, rom
Date: Mon, 28 Oct 2002 17:10:03 -0500
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LaDonna and Sparky
Version 1.11 (Thank you, Des and Katie)

Genesis:
I was listening to an NPR piece describing high tech future
farming using GPS, satellite images, soil analysis and micro
weather prediction. But, back in the old days, how did they do
it, down on the farm?



"Poppa, Old Red got on Sparky today." I shoveled another gob of
mashed potatoes onto my plate, careful not to get any on the peas
and carrots I'd piled up. 

Sparky, my rat faced, black and white, part terrier, part who 'n
the heck knows, had followed me home one day. When she smiled her
silly smile and fawned, rollin' to her back to show me her pink,
round belly, I fell completely in love with the silly puppie. So
much that I washed out an old chipped and rusty, broken handled
enamel cooking pan just for her scraps.

Poppa didn't raise his head, just glanced up through his thick
black, gray streaked eyebrows for a second or two. He nodded and
chewed his beans quietly; well, for him, quietly. 

"Cull two when she weans 'em, baby girl. Gunny sack the rest." 

I nodded my head, Poppa's word was law on our farm. I'd expected
to have to drop all the pups into the creek, but Sparky was a
real good ratter. That's maybe why Poppa wanted to keep two.

He reached for another corn bread muffin, splitting it with one
hand like Momma usta break eggs over her mixing bowl. His other
hand lifted his knife, which he waved at me like Mr. Patterson,
our junior high principle and girls choir leader would wave his
baton when he was trying to bring us up tempo.

"LaDonna," he said with a questioning tone, now looking me full
in the eye. "How old you now?"

"Twelve, Poppa," I said, pouring hot brown gravy into the hole
I'd made in the middle of my mounded mashed potatoes. His
question surprised me, I slipped and poured gravy outside the
hole. I like things neat and almost swore out loud. Jesus somehow
transformed into, "Jiminy Crickets." Now Poppa's not got much
religion, but he's careful 'bout things like that. He'd thump my
head if I profaned loud enough for him to hear.

Poppa tilted his head back and closed his right eye. His squinty,
one eyed look gave me the shivers.

"Don't, Poppa. Don't left eye me like that. You'll curdle my
milk."

"You aint got no teats ta speak of," he said, opening his right
eye a crack. "No milk to spoil."

I picked up my blue aluminum glass, which, not many years ago,
had come from the A&P full of cottage cheese, and took a big
gulp. Momma couldn't resist two-fers, back when she was alive.

"This milk, Poppa."

I waved the glass at him before putting it down.

Poppa cleaned his plate, sopping up ham hock and bean juice with
the last unbuttered corn muffin.

"Come set with me in the parlor," he said, his voice so very soft
I almost didn't make out his words. "When you got your chores
done."

"Yes, Poppa." 

I felt a shiver, a tingle of anticipation wash through me. After
I cleared the table and did the dishes, Poppa was gonna talk to
me. He did almost every week. Trying to explain different things,
like how life wasn't very fair sometimes, but we could still be
grateful for what we had. I enjoyed his talks, sitting, cozy and
comfy, on his lap. His big, rough calloused hands would hug me,
stroke my belly, squeeze me close. I loved my Poppa, and I could
tell, even if he never told me, that he loved me too.

Poppa was winding the old clock, set high on a shelf on the wall
opposite his upholstered chair. He turned and smiled, just a
little smile, as I entered his room. Yeah, his room. It smelled
of his evening tobacco, his sweat, his... Oh, I don't know, 'cept
this was Poppa's parlor, always a special place for me. 

Poppa walked slowly over to his old chair, and bent himself into
it. He looked at me, kinda squinty eyed for a bit, then he patted
his leg.

"C'mon over here, baby girl. Sit on my knee."

I turned and aimed my butt at his lap, bent slightly and slowly
lowered myself down. Poppa would complain, and probably pinch my
leg if I just jumped onto him.  I squirmed into place, put my
cheek against Poppa's shoulder and smiled up at him. He half
smiled back with that twisted look of him doing something he
didn't do very often.

"Baby girl, you is growin' up." He squeezed my skinny leg just
above my knobby, scabbed knee. "The boy's will be sniffin' round
you soon. Don't give 'em any truck, you hear?" 

"Yes, Poppa," I said. 

Then Poppa did something he'd never done before, kinda surprised
me. He put his work gnarly hand right on my titty. He gave it a
little squeeze, and made a funny sound in his chest, like he was
diggin' down real deep for phlegm.

He finally got it out, and asked, his voice almost a whisper,
"You grow'd any hair yet, baby girl?" 

He poked a black nailed finger tip at my crotch, not touching me,
mind you, but close enough so I knew where he meant.

"Don't think so, Poppa." I lifted my head off his shoulder and
gave him a questioning look. I didn't understand why he was
asking about my body. 

"You got a nurse at school. Go ask her about 'The Curse'."

"Curse? What curse, Poppa?" 

"Wimmens' curse. You understand? The 'monthlies'." 

I guess the look I gave him showed my confusion.

"Ever' month wimmin bleed from their, ah..." He squirmed, as if
trying to get comfortable in his lumpy chair. " 'Gina's." He made
a little grunting sound right after he said that. Sorta like he
was still trying to clear his throat. "You'll be startin' in
soon. We'll keep some clean flour sack rags handy."

Now I understood what he was getting to. Cousin Darly Jean had a
bad pain deep in her belly when she had her 'curse', as Poppa
called it. Guess for DJ it was, she got snippier than a momma dog
with a litter of sharp tooth pups when it was on her.

"Now, one last thing," Poppa made that funny sound again, deep in
his chest. "If a boy tries to show you his pecker, you got my
permission to kick 'em in the balls."

"Pecker, Poppa?" I didn't know that word.

"That thing they got between their legs, they're gonna want to
stick it in your 'gina. Like Big Red did to your Sparky today."

Now I'm not ignorant, believe you me, I understood about sex. I
seen it often enough on the farm. I just never thought about
people doin' it. Never crossed my mind about me and sex. It was
something the bull did to a cow, a rooster with the hens, but me?
No way on god's green earth was I gonna do it. The devil would be
chuckin' snowballs at the sinners before I'd bend over and drop
my drawers so some boy could mount my back and stick his 'pecker'
in me. Not this girl.

That was my feelings on it until harvest time and Ramon Garcia,
the brother of my school friend, Connie, drove one of his daddy's
big flatbed trucks into our yard to haul our string bean crop to
the cannery. I was in the kitchen fixing dinner for Poppa and the
help when Ramon jumped out of his truck, peeled off his tee shirt
and began washing up in the sink right outside my window. I think
I stood there, my mouth hanging open for two whole minutes, just
waitin' for a fly to buzz on in. I felt this strange tingly
warmth down in my belly, real low in my belly. I felt like I was
dreaming in my bed. I took off my apron, and dropped it on the
table. I smoothed my cotton dress tight over my titties. I almost
let out a yell, my own hands put a zinger down my spine, 'bout
like the time I put my hand on the tractor spark plug wire. I
filled a nice unchipped glass, pretty flowers painted on it, with
iced tea from the cooler jug, dumped in a handful of sugar, some
chipped ice and traipsed out the door to meet my fate. 

Ramon didn't see me coming. He was bent over the sink, rinsing
his face. I could count his backbones, count his ribs under his
tight brown skin. Up close to him, I felt dizzy for a moment,
then he straightened up real slow and turned his head. 

We locked eyes and just stood there until I held out the glass of
tea. Why my hand wasn't shaking, I have no idea, my knees sure
felt wobbly. When his fingers touched mine, that zinger did me
again.

"Gracias, Bonita," he said softly, smiling wide, showing perfect
white teeth in sharp contrast to his brown face. 

His smile so beautiful I staggered, my knobby knees almost
buckled. He had called me 'pretty girl'. 

I watched him wipe his face with his tee shirt then drain the
glass. He held it high and swallowed slowly, my eyes blinking in
time with his bobbing adam's apple. I knew he was watching me,
but I couldn't resist letting my eyes slide down his chest and
belly. He had the cutest little inny belly button, and, oh my
god, he had a pecker. I could see it outlined by his tight jeans,
it's shape and size reminding me of the carrots I pulled from my
kitchen garden almost every day. My cheeks burned, I knew he
could see where I was looking, but I couldn't help myself. When I
could finally look up at his face, he grinned, his eyes twinkled
and danced.

"What's your name?" he asked me, the sound of his voice made that
zinger thing happen again. He was looking at me kinda funny, like
maybe he knew my name, but wasn't remembering on purpose.

"LaDonna," I said, surprised the sound didn't come out in a
squeak. 

"Ramon," he said, holding out his hand. I stared at it for a
moment, before placing my limp fingers on his pale palm. I wasn't
real sure about why he'd shake hands with me. That's not the way
men folk treat women folk in my mind. When he brought my fingers
up to his lips, and pressed a soft kiss on them, that darn old
zinger almost knocked me down. I yanked my hand back, and stuck
it behind my back. I wouldn't wash those fingers for days and
days, I promised myself. Then it struck me, we'd known about each
other since we were both snot faced. He was introducing himself,
formal like.

"You hungry?" I asked him, backing towards the kitchen stoop.
"Dinner's almost ready. Please, you be welcome to eat with me."

"Sure," he said, his grin widening into that smile again. I
stumbled when my heel hit the first step, and might have fallen
if Ramon hadn't grabbed both my arms. We were almost eyeball to
eyeball, just standing there, grinning at each other. When he
tilted his head and leaned closer, I raised my chin and stretched
my neck, eager for the touch of his lips on mine. I knew about
kissing, hadn't really cared when cousin Darly Jean explained it
all, but now, was darn tootin' interested. 

Ramon pulled me close, I felt that zinger again when my titties
pressed against his chest. When his soft lips touched mine, I
knew heaven. My arms came up around his neck like I knew what I
was doin'. When I felt the tip of his tongue tickle my lower lip,
I tried to catch it with mine, jus' like cousin DJ tol' me to. We
musta traded spit for a full minute before he pulled back and
looked me right in the eye. 

"You kiss nice," he said, the little purr in his voice put goose
bumps on the back of my arms and down the back of my legs.

"So do you." 

We looked at each other for a bit, both of us grinning like
fools.

"Come inside," I said, stepping up on the stoop, pulling on his
arm.

We got into the kitchen, and the screen door hadn't even banged
shut yet, and we were kissing each other like crazy. I had an arm
lock around his neck, my hand feeling the warm, smooth skin of
his shoulder. My other hand was all over him, down his back,
pulling him closer. He mashed up against me and I could feel that
carrot stick bumping my belly. My hips moved without me tellin'
'em to, I tried to mash up against his pecker, hunching, trying
to get it closer to my... 

I pulled my face away from Ramon's, blinking like crazy, panting
as hard as if I'd run to the barn and back a hundred times.

"We gotta stop. Poppa's comin' in shortly. Poppa and the crew for
dinner. Let me set an extra plate." I stepped back and dropped my
eyes to the lump in Ramon's jeans. Carrot, my Aunt Hattie's
fanny, that was a corn cob he had in there.

"LaDonna, I can't stay for dinner. I gotta drop the empty trailer
and take a load to the cannery. I'll come back tonight, right
after supper."

The look he was giving me, so sad, so pained, almost brought
tears to my eyes, but I knew he was right. Those beans had to get
to the cannery fresh, or we wouldn't get top dollar.

"Kiss me again, then you can leave." I tried not to pout, but he
saw the disappointment in my face.

Ramon leaned forward and brushed his lips on my cheek. I shivered
and wanted to taste him again, so I bent and licked his shoulder,
right there at the end of his collar bone, that round muscly part
tasted good, salty but sweet too.

"Tonight, mi preciosa" he said softly, reaching up to stroke my
cheek with soft fingers, then turned and walked out the door. 

I floated over to the sink, like in a dream, to watch him through
the window. He moved so nice, smooth like a dancer I'd seen on
the TV at cousin DJ's place. I liked the way his skin shone in
the sun. My palms tingled when I remembered how smooth his flesh
felt.
 
Poppa gave me a funny look at dinner. I felt kinda hot and
sweaty, I know my cheeks were pinked. His crew ate with little
talk, except to say thank you when I brought more corn bread or
greens. I tried not to fidget, tried not to think about Ramon.
About Ramon's hands on my body, his lips on mine. Poppa gave me a
long look, his nostrils flaring slightly, but he didn't say boo.

After cleaning up, I went to my bedroom and sat staring out the
window. I couldn't help wigglin' around, and every time I
squeezed my legs together I felt kinda warm and tingly down
there. When I stuck a finger under my drawers, the gooey mess
made me think I'd pee'd myself, but when I sniffed my finger it
didn't smell like pee. 

That night, Poppa asked me into the parlor. I snuggled in, his
big rough hands felt good, sorta comforting. 

"Baby girl," he said softly, patting my knee. "You lookin' a bit
off your feed today. You comin' down with somethin'?" 

He squeezed my leg, just above my knee. I could feel his rough,
calloused fingers, kinda scratchy, on my skin. So different from
Ramon's soft hands. 

"No, Poppa. I'm doin' jus' fine." 

"Garcia's pup was drivin' the rig today. You see him?"

"Yes, Poppa. I gave him a glass of tea. We talked for a spell."

We sat quiet for a bit, I could feel my heart thumpin' harder.
Finally, I could look up into Poppa's eyes.

"He's a nice boy, Poppa. I like him."

I felt his chest expand as he took a slow deep breath. He held it
for a moment then let it out with a rush.

"We gotta talk about you and him."

I wasn't sure what there was to talk about.

"He comin' back tonight?" 

"I hope so." I said it real soft, kinda squinching up my eyes,
crossing my fingers Poppa wouldn't be gettin' mad, feeling
surprised at his guessin' the truth.

"I know'd Ruben Garcia durn near my whole life. He's a good man;
works hard, works smart. Folks say his youngest boy takes after
him."

I sat up and wiggled around so I could look straight into Poppa's
face. He had the saddest eyes on him I'd ever seen.

"Folks will talk if'n you take up with him."

"Talk don' hurt nobody." I felt that in my heart.

"Baby girl, I wantcha to know, you got my blessin'. Jus' don't
run off, I need you here."

I put a hug on my Poppa, the mother of all hugs, around his neck.
He was telling me he loved me, I knew. He'd never say the words,
that was his way, but I could feel it in my bones.

"Now, you git, baby girl. Go git gussied up for your boy." 

Now I'm not so sure what getting gussied up was all about. I knew
cousin Darly Jean would put her hair up, rub some red lipstick on
her mouth, squirt some perfume on her neck. But I didn't know
beans about putting up my hair, and, sure as shootin', didn't
have any red lipstick or good smellin' stuff. So I settled for a
bath with the nice smelling sea shell shaped soap cousin DJ had
given me for my twelfth birthday. I even washed my hair with it.

Standing in front of the mirror, brushing my hair until it shone,
I looked at my tall drink of water body. I knew I was taller than
most girls my age. Compared to the women on TV or in magazines, I
looked like a bunch of sticks leaning in the corner. My little
titties were just bumps on my flat chest. Very sensitive bumps, I
might say. They was always tingling at the strangest times. I'd
ask cousin DJ about that, one of these days.

I put on clean panties, my favorite pair, they had three little
roses on the front. I didn't want to wear a school dress, too
plain, but didn't want to wear a Sunday dress either, too frilly.
Finally I picked out my white dress with little roses on it. It
had buttons down the front from the square cut bodice to the hem.
It felt a little tight across my chest, I had to pull the cloth
together to get the top buttons into their holes. I twirled in
front of the mirror, the full skirt billowing out like bunting in
the breeze at the fairgrounds. I felt good, I felt pretty, I felt
hungry for Ramon to see me.

I knocked on the parlor door to get Poppa's attention. He leaned
over and turned down the sound coming from his old radio, and
turned to look long and hard at me. I worried I had dirt on my
dress or on my face, then his eyes got that sad, soft lookagain.

"Baby girl," he started to say around his pipe stem, then he
stopped and just stared at me, nodding his head.

"That's a purty dress, LaDonna," he said, now letting his lop
sided smile show.

"Thank you, Poppa," I told him, my smile so big my cheeks hurt.
He'd seen it before, many times, so I knew he wasn't talkin'
about the dress, but about me. He was tellin' me, in his own way,
that I was pretty. My heart swelled up, fit to bust. 

"I'm gonna wait on the porch," I said turning towards the door.

"Sit yonder," Poppa said, pointing to the parlor divan with his
pipe stem.

I sat prim and proper, my feet and knees together like momma
always usta tell me to, my hands in my lap, my back straight.

Poppa turned his radio back up. It was, as usual, the farm
weather report out of Chicago. He listened to the weather news as
serious as some people listened to a radio preacher man. He even
wrote down something sometimes on a pad of yellow paper he kept
handy.

I tried not to fidget, tried not to look at the clock every other
tick. I listened to the radio voice and tried to make out the
words, but my brain was too full of Ramon. I picked at a scab on
my knee, trying to lift it off with a fingernail, but it hurt too
much. I worried it a bit, then I heard the sound of an engine,
thought I did any way. I ran out of the parlor and bent to look
out the window, pulling the lace curtains wide. Yes, a pickup
truck was coming slowly up the rutted lane from the road.

"Set," Poppa called, "in the parlor. I'll call you out when it's
time."

Soon there was a rap on the screen door. Poppa got up out of his
chair. looked at me for a long moment. I fidgeted and grinned,
feeling all tingly and happy.

Again a rapping on the screen.

"I'm comin', I'm comin," Poppa growled, sending shivers down my
back.

"Good evening, sir. How are you tonight?" Ramon called from the
porch.

"Howdy, boy," Poppa said, holding the screen open.  "Fair to
middlin'." 

I sat, quiet as a church mouse caught in Sunday school, holding
my breath. I could see Ramon shake hands with Poppa. He looked
good: nice clean khaki slacks, shiny pointy toe boots, a blue
western cut shirt tight across his chest.

He and Poppa stood there talking. I couldn't make out the words,
their voices so low. Ramon nodded his head a few times, then
shook it, looking very serious, his smile fading. Poppa held out
his hand and they shook on something they'd agreed on. Ramon's
smile came back, bright on his face, his dark eyes dancing and
sparkling. Thought I was all zingered out, but the one I just
felt proved me wrong.

"LaDonna," Poppa called. 

I got up, smoothed my skirt, and walked slowly, up on tippy toe,
towards Ramon. 

The look he gave me, eyes wide, smile so big, made me proud to be
a girl. 

He held out his hand, and I took it, trying to stay calm,
relaxed. If Poppa saw me zinger, he'd maybe lock me in my room.

Ramon walked me to his red pickup truck like I was a delicate
flower. He opened the door and helped me up into the seat. I
wanted to kiss him so bad my brain hurt. He stood there smiling
at me, an easy little smile. 

"You are so pretty, LaDonna," he said, his soft brown eyes
flashing.

I lurched toward him, then pulled back, not wanting for Poppa to
see me kiss this lovely boy. 

He stepped back and closed the door, careful to check my skirt
was clear. He walked quickly around the front of the truck and
climbed in. 

"I'm going to kiss you," he warned, "in about two minutes, or
I'll bust a gut."

I understood how he felt, I felt the same. I scooted over and
leaned against his shoulder. He put his arm up and over my head,
wrapping it around my shoulders.

"What did you and Poppa talk about?" I asked, admiring his
profile, wanting to run my finger down his tall forehead, down
his nose to his full lips.

He gave me a quick look, his dark eyes flashing in the dimlight.

"No beer, no liquor, have you back by ten tonight." Ramon pinched
his lips tightly together. 

"Your daddy's a good man, LaDonna. My daddy and yours been
friends a long time." He gave me a long look. "They go way back,
back to when they were both little booger pickers."

I sorta knew that, Poppa was good friends to a lot of folk. He
didn't talk much, but when he did, people paid him strict
attention.

We motored carefully to the end of the our farm lane, bouncing
along for a few minutes. Ramon stopped and carefully looked both
ways.

"Do you want to go into town," he asked, turning to face me. 

"No," I said, real quiet. I stretched up and stuck my face in
his. "I want to do some more kissin' n' huggin' n' rubbin' our
bellies together."

I mashed my mouth onto his, sucking like to take his breath right
out of his chest. My heart was beatin' so hard I thought it'd pop
out of me, but I didn't pull away until I ran out of air.

We both grinned and panted at each other. Then Ramon grabbed the
gear shift lever and shoved it into reverse. He backed the truck
around until we were facing away from the last sliver of light
from the setting sun, a thin red band stretching across the tops
of the low far away hills. 

"C'mon," he said opening his door and sliding out. I followed
him, hanging on tight to his hand, round to the tail gate. He
pulled it down and turned to me. Sticking his hands in my arm
pits, he lifted me up and sat me on the warm metal. 

Ramon stood there, between my knees, smiling up at me. He put his
hands on my legs, and I put my hands on his and pressed down
hard.

"Your daddy tole me not to stick my pecker in your pussy,
LaDonna." He squeezed his hands around my skinny legs. "Or he'd
skin me alive, and hang my hide on the barn to dry."

Now I didn't know that pussy word, but, like a porch light comin'
on, I knew what he was talking about. I felt kinda funny, sorta
disappointed, but, thinking back on that corn cob I'd seen in his
pants this morning, maybe relieved too.

He jumped up to sit beside me, wrapping an arm around my waist,
holding my hand tight in his. He leaned and nuzzled my ear, his
lips soft and warm. 

"I gave him my word, an' we shook on it."

"Mm, hm." I didn't have any words right now, I was all a tingle
sitting here with Ramon's arm around me, his sweet breath
tickling my neck.

"But we can do other stuff," Ramon breathed in my ear. "Other
stuff that feels real good."  

"Like this?" I asked, turning to mash my mouth on his. In a wink,
we were both moanin' and groanin'. I pulled his hand to my little
titty and, with his tongue sucked hard into my mouth, my world
exploded. I started jerkin' around like a stranded catfish
floppin' in the shallows, fireworks in my head, and hot electric
zingers down low in my belly. 

Ramon held me real tight, I was limp as an old dish rag in hot
water, and might've fallen back into the truck bed if he hadn't.
I was gulpin' air and shivering like I had the flu bug real bad.

"My god and little fishes, LaDonna," Ramon marvelled.

When my vision finally wasn't all blured, when I could see his
face, I saw that he was all goggle eyed. 

"I've never seen one like that before."

One like what? I wanted to ask, but the zingers still had control
of my brain. I could only lay back on his arm and try an' get my
breath back. I was panting harder than Old Red hot on a 'coon
scent.

Ramon stared down into my face, his eyes as big as kitty milk
saucers, shining so white in the moonlight.

"One like what?" I asked him, when I could make sounds come out
of my throat again.

"An orgasm, LaDonna. You just had an orgasm, like thunder and
lightning, you went off."

I just looked at him, blinking, shaking my head.

The moonlight was just bright enough for me to see Ramon's mouth
twist into a frown.

"I don't know how to 'splain it, so..." He grinned now, his eyes
gleaming. "I'll show you."

He stood up and bent, grabbed me under my arm pits and lifted me
up like I was nothin' but air. I bellied up to him, searching for
his mouth with mine, something hard poking my belly. I thought
for a minute that he had a rock in his pocket. Then I remembered.
It wasn't a rock, but his pecker. I was gonna have to find out
what one of these pecker things looked liked, I decided. Real
soon like.

"C'mer," Ramon said softly, dancing me to the front of the truck
bed. He opened the steel tool box that straddled the bed rails,
and pulled out two sheep skin saddle blankets. He tossed them out
side by side.

"Let's lay down," he said, tugging my hand.

Lay down? Now that sorta scared me, don't know why. 

"Ramon?" I asked, backing away a half step. 

"Mi muchacha preciosa, I wont hurt you." 

"Let's set for a while." I patted the tool box lid, feeling
warmed by him callin' me his precious girl.

We sat side by side, shoulders just barely touching. After a
minute, I took his hand in mine and laced our fingers. He
squeezed my hand and let out a big sigh. 

"I'm sorry. Did I scare you, movin' so fast?" 

I shook my head, trying to find some words, but my rush of
feelings couldn't be put into words, somehow. I remembered back
to the time Old Red got on Sparky. She'd been eager for him to
mount her back, her tail stuck out sideways, that silly grin on
her face. She'd held real still while Old Red licked her. I had
to think on it for a bit. Licked her 'gina, I guess. If I had
one, then Sparky had one, we both bein' girls.

I looked over at Ramon's face. He didn't smile or nothing, just
raised his eyebrows at me.

I turned my head and made like I was lookin' at the last little
red streak of sunset, but was still remembering. 

Old Red had mounted Sparky's back, and humped on her. Sparky
didn't seem to mind, seemed patient with him from the look on her
face. Old Red finished his chore and unmounted, but they were
still stuck together someways. I was sitting on the stoop
watching. When I called Sparky to come to me, she did, dragging
Old Red by his pecker, him letting out a squeal, whining so
pitiful like.

"Are we gonna get stuck together like dogs if we do it?" I turned
to look closely at Ramon's face. 

He looked at me like I'd gone demented on him. He let out a whoop
and pounded his knee, then he got real serious.

"Nope, but wouldn't mind if we did. I'm kinda stuck on you,
wouldn't mind a bit bein' stuck 'in' you." He squeezed my hand,
and chuckled, "Stuck together like dogs." He shook his head and
twisted around to peck me on the lips. 

"Poppa said folks would talk, if'n you an' me took up together."

Now it was Ramon's turn to squint at the sunset. He nodded his
head, I could see that, but couldn't see the look on his face.

"You worried I'd be braggin' round town I got me a pretty little
white girl?"

Now that confused me. I wasn't so worrisome about anybody talking
about us, we were just plain folk after all. I didn't know what
to say about that, so I kept my mouth shut, thinkin' hard. Then
it dawned on me, what he'd called me.

"White girl? You think folks would talk 'cause you're Mexican?" I
struggled to make sense out of that idea.

Ramon's head came around real fast.

"I'm not Mexican, I'm American, Latino American." His voice
sharp, very strong, loud in my ear.

He spoke so forcefully, I leaned back away from him, my mouth
hangin' open. I knew I'd stepped in a big, gooey meadow muffin,
and was thinkin' hard, trying to find a way to unruffle his
feathers.

"I'm thinkin' that's maybe why I'm kinda stuck on you too." I
layed that out there for him to chew on.

Ramon didn't say a word, he just cocked his head over a little.

"You're beautiful," I said. "The way you look, your smooth skin,
the way you smile." I giggled at his squirming discomfort. "Your
beautiful smile."

"Men aren't beautiful," he snorted. "Men are handsome, or good
lookin'," he said in a firm voice. "You are beautiful. Only girls
can be called beautiful."

My mouth made like a fly trap, while small zingers went up and
down my spine. 

"You think I'm beautiful?" I asked him when I got my jaw to stop
flapping .

"Sure do, your hair is like spun gold, as soft as corn silk," he
said gently.

And I'd always thought it just dishwater blond.

"Your eyes really set me off. So pale blue, like pure water
bubbling up from a spring.

Washed out blue, I'd believed, like my momma's.

"Consuela tells me you're smart in school."

"Connie's been talkin' about me?" 

"No, I asked her about you. You don't think I came by your place
by accident, do you?" 

Talk about putting my little brain in a tizzy. Inside, I felt
like a flock of swallows, swoopin' and sweepin' back and forth in
the evening twilight. I bit my tongue, real hard, trying to
settle myself. I could feel my heart beating in my chest,
thumping as hard and fast as Old Red's tail when I put out his
bowl of table scraps.

"Ramon, I'd like to lay with you now," I said, feeling a shiver
go through my whole body.

Ramon didn't move, he just sat there, dead still. like a frog on
a lilly pad. 

"I'd like that," he said. "Kissin' you is nicer than... Than..."
He blinked once, maybe twice. "Than sweet milk straight outa the
cow's teat."

I giggled and leaned over to kiss his cheek. I knew he was tryin'
real hard to be romancin' me. Never been romanced before, I kinda
liked it. I stood up and pulled on his hand. He got up real close
and took my other hand, holding 'em both between us.

"Kissing you just almost takes me outta my skin," I told him. "It
makes me feel like I never felt before. All jingly jangly." I
suddenly shied up, feeling like I was talkin' too much. 

"Me too," he said, his lips against my ear, tickling'. 

He danced us over to the saddle blankets and dropped to his
knees, holding my hands. He looked up at me, smilin' the softest,
sweetest little smile, the moonlight shinin' in his eyes. I had
to take a real deep breath and let it out slow and easy, before
my heart slowed.

"LaDonna, every Sunday I kneel down in church just like this, and
say a prayer for my family, askin' God to be kind and generous to
them. Now, I'm gonna say a prayer for you too." 

I had to think about that for a bit. Poppa went to church twice a
year, Easter and Christmas. That put a crick in Preacher Thomas'
neck, let me tell you. At least twice a year he'd come by and
talk to Poppa about lovin' Jesus and fearin' the Lord regular,
like every Sunday morning. Poppa was always polite to the poor
man. I'd serve him iced tea in the summer time and hot coffee in
the winter. Preacher Thomas always complimented my cookies real
polite like. Poppa always promised to think on it, but we never
did go regular.

I didn't know what to say about him prayin' for me, so I just
told him thank you, sweet as I could.

Ramon tugs at my hands so I drop to my knees. The moon is full
and his eyes shine so pretty, I want to put little kisses all
over his face. He's smiling to beat the band and I guess I am
too. I put my hands on his chest to feel his firm flesh. He leans
closer and puts the softest little kiss on my lips.

"Mmm," he moans through his nose when I tickle his tongue with
mine.

"Lay with me, Ramon. Hold me real close and kiss me like that
again."

We lay down, on our sides, facing each other, trading our
breaths. We wrap up, belly to belly, and it seems the most
natural thing to throw my leg up over his hip and pull himclose.

"LaDonna..." he trys to talk, but I silence his words with my
mouth. 

"Mmm," one of us moans, maybe both of us.

I can feel his arm, his muscles hard, under my neck, his hand
holding my shoulder. His free hand is roamin' up and down my
back, light as a feather. His fingers putting electric tingles up
and down my body. When he cups my butt and gives it a squeeze, my
tongue started waggling around on his lips.

"Wait a minute, LaDonna," he kinda grunts at me. "Let me..."

He rolls onto his back and sticks a hand down the front of his
pants, rearranging himself.

"Sorry. Gotta kink in my pecker."

I don't hesitate, but sit up and look straight at his pants
front. That corn cob was back, so I put my hand on it.

"Show me your pecker, Ramon. I never seen one." I look up at his
face, thinking I might have to beg him to show it.

"Shucks, LaDonna, you never seen a pecker before?" He seems
surprised.  

He pops his pants button open, I reach to pull down his zipper,
but he brushes my hand away, and does it himself. When he starts
pushing them down, lifting his hips, I pull on his pants leg to
help.

In the bright moonlight, Ramon's pecker looks like a dark brown,
curved pointy stick. It's laying on his belly, sorta arched up in
the middle so only the end touches his flat stomach. My hand goes
to hold it without my brain telling it to. 

"Oh, it's hard and soft at the same time," I marvel. 

I lean down to get a closer look just as Ramon wraps his fingers
around mine. He pushes the loose skin down, and a large bulb pops
out.

"Oh, what's that comin' out?" I look up at Ramon's face. He's
kinda grinning at me, lookin' proud I feel.

"That's my pecker knob," he says. "Feel of it, real gentlelike."

I tickle his knob with easy finger tips, Ramon's legs jerk, I
yank my hands away. 

"It's okay," he says, his voice low, sorta strained. "Keep doin'
it." He pulls my hand back to his hard shaft.  "It feels real
good when you do that. Makes me shiver."

"So, when you kiss me, your pecker grows?" I ask him.

"Sure does," he laughs. 

"Why?" I ask him. "Just so's you can stick it in my 'gina?" 

"Yeah," he grunts. "Ceptin I gave your daddy my word Iwouldn't."

He pulls on my shoulder and I lay on his arm. Didn't let go of
his pecker, it seemed natural, holdin' it tight. When I squeezed
it, his hips jerked up. 

"What's it feel like when I do this?" I squeezed and stroked him
gently. 

"Heaven," he sighed. "Down low in my belly, there's a heat
buildin'. If you keep doin' that, I'll orgasm and spunk all over
my belly."

"Spunk? What's that?" I asked, feeling sorta dumb, havin' toask.

"My semen," he answers in a whisper. He nuzzles my ear, his lips
warm, putting a tingle down low in my belly.

Now I knew what that was. Poppa bought frozen semen once and
inseminated our cow. She dropped a fine bull calf 'bout nine
months later. Poppa said it was money well spent.

"LaDonna?" Ramon asked, "Can I see you?"

He rolled to his side, and put his palm on my cheek. 

"Can I see yours?" he asked, kinda nervous like.

I don't answer. I just roll to my back and start unbuttoning my
dress, starting at the top and working down to my hips, as far
down as I could reach. I watch his face, his eyes so bright in
the moonlight. He looks just like a little boy, so excited, about
to unwrap a birthday present. 

Ramon looks at me. Oh, his eyes shine so. His white teeth flash
that beautiful smile. 

I pull my skirt high, after unbuttoning the last button, I search
for his pecker. He wiggles his hips so's to let me take it up.

"LaDonna?" he asks, tugging at my dress, exposing half my chest.

His warm finger tips on my skin put such a zinger on me that the
stars go out. That darn thing bounced from my head to my toes and
back again. 

"Ramon," I growled, deep in my throat. "Kiss me!" 

He stretched over and put his soft mouth on mine. I could feel
his sweet breath, softer than butterfly wings, when our lips
touched.

When his warm palm found my bare, proud nubbin, the zingers took
my breath away or Ramon sucked it outa me, don't know which. When
he slid his palm down my belly, I didn't have to tell my legs to
open, they popped apart as fast as Sparky's tail twitched
sideways when Old Red got up on her back. 

I heard a small animal, far away, whimpering, calling its momma.
Ramon's fingers tickled my belly, and I wanted to, needed to, do
something. He pulled up and kissed my chin, then my chest, then
he licked my little tittie bump. Now I recognized that whimper
sound. It was me, crying out for Ramon to touch me. Touch me
there, where I was burnin' up, down between my legs.

"Ramon," I growled against his neck, grabbing his hand off my
belly and shoving it between my legs. "Touch me."

His warm fingers, squeezin' so soft, felt darn good, but were not
enough. I stuck my thumb under the waist band of my panties and
tried to shove 'em down. Ramon tugged and pulled 'em down to my
knees so I could get one leg free. 

"LaDonna, your skin is sweet cream on my tongue. So smooth and
soft." He kissed my tittie bump, and sucked it into his mouth,
his warm fingers pressing between my legs. 

The stars went out again. My hips start to hunch against his
hand. It felt so good, I wanted him to never stop. When he lifts
up over me, I try to pull him down on top of me, hangin' onto his
neck real tight, tugging on his pecker, aiming it where I wanted
it. 

"No!" Ramon's voice loud in my ear. "Stop! I gave my word," he
groaned.

Something hot splashed my belly. Ramon grunted and jerked above
me, his pecker swoll up even more in my hand. 

"Ung," he groaned, his body stiff and shuddering.

I felt another hot splatter, this time all the way up to my
titties. His mouth panting hot against my cheek, I figured we was
even. I felt real good about that, him having an orgasm just like
I did.

"Whooee, LaDonna." He kissed my cheek. "That was a surprise." He
laughed softly. "A very nice surprise. Turn loose of my neck
now."

He got up off me and sat on his heels between my spread legs, his
pecker sticking almost straight up, pointing at the moon.

I bent my neck and studied the two silver streaks on my belly and
chest. 

"Let me clean you off," he said, reaching for his pants pocket.

"No, use my panties," I told him, lifting my foot up so he could
pull my panties off my ankle.

He swiped around on my belly, then, turning my panties over, he
cleaned my chest. 

"I'm never gonna wash those panties. They'll be our keepsake for
our first lovin' together."

I balled up my damp panties and held 'em tight in my fist.

Ramon gave me the strangest smile, like he was pleased as punch
I'd said that.

"Now, we got some more kissin' to do. Git yourself back down
here." I held out my arms to him.

"Wait a minute, LaDonna," he said, turning his head to study the
moon. "I think I gotta take you home now. It's pretty close to
ten oclock. I don't want to git on the wrong side of yourDaddy."

--------

Poppa was waiting for us, rockin' slow and easy on the porch.
While Ramon said good night to him, I ran upstairs to put my
panties under my pillow. Back on the porch, Ramon was sitting in
the swing chair so I sat next to him. 

"Sir, if'n it's okay with you, I'd like to take LaDonna to Sunday
morning Mass, and meet my family."

Poppa looked at me, his mouth twisting, his eyes squinting, his
head nodding.

"Reckon that's reasonable, boy."

"Poppa," I said soft like, "you got Ramon's word he'd not stick
his pecker in me."

Poppa's mouth worked like he was tryin' to say something, his
eyebrows waggling.

"I want you to give it back, Poppa."

Sparky crawled out from under the house, dragging her heavy belly
in the dust. She came up and put her head on my knee. I rubbed
her back, swayed from the weight of her pups, and watched Poppa's
face. Ramon's hand found mine and we laced our fingers. A cricket
chirped, off in the dark somewheres.

Poppa stood up real slow, sorta unfolding his lanky frame out of
his rocking chair. He stared down at me, frowning so as to scare
the beejeebers out me. He took a deep breath and let it out slow,
nodding his head.

"Baby girl..." he started.

Then he shook his head.

"I reckon that's tolerable, LaDonna, jus' let me think on it a
spell."

He stared at me for a long moment, his forehead all wrinkled up
then turned, and went into the house, the screen door swinging
shut with a bang.


~fin


Author's comment.
This is the first story I've tried from a woman's POV. From the
comments, I've apparently not embarrassed myself. It's also the
first in "vernacular", in the regional dialect of my childhood.
One reader felt it brought back sweet memories of his growing up,
down on the farm. 

A heartfelt thank you to all who have sent email. You have been
very generous. 

To threefriedeggs, Des and Katie, and Jeff Z. I'm so tickled you
all liked this story, I could spit. 
(Gramma used to say that. Don't ask for an exact definition, I'm
clueless.)

This third version has a few tweaks, mainly to eliminate some
lazinesses. Lazeez is gonna yank me baldheaded, one of these
days.

C.D. Ritter
aka 'California Dreamer'


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