by Destiny Moon
“Well, maybe not just yet…”
“I should think not, Tommy. I’m only nineteen.”
“But in a couple of years…”
It was worse than I had anticipated. Because I had been afraid of this inevitable talk, I had imagined it many times in my head. In my imagination—unlike now—I’d always come across as thoughtful and diplomatic.
“Tommy, that’s really sweet but you’re my first…well…boyfriend… If that’s what you are… I mean… C’mon… You work for my father…and… Well… I’m young…”
“That’s why I said in a couple of years. I want to get you a promise ring. And then, when the time is right—”
“When the time is right?” I interrupted him because I hated the ease with which the words rolled off his tongue. “Then what, Tommy? You’ll propose? Then what? We’ll get married, move into a house—or, worse, stay at the farm… Move into my parents’ bedroom? Is that what you want?” The idea was vile. Years of a possible future flashed before my eyes and repulsed me.
“I love you, Julie.”
He played it as if it were a magic hand he had been dealt at cards.
“Oh, bullshit,” I said.
“What?”
“You heard me. You don’t love me. You just love the idea of me. Keep working at the farm, take over the family business, the family daughter.”
“You’re awful. How can you even say that? And how dare you tell me how I feel?”
“Get out.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Get out.”
He was as mad as anyone would be who was three hours away from home and knew they were about to be dropped off and left behind. I didn’t have a choice. I suppose I could have been nicer about the whole thing, but that would just have encouraged him. It would have given him a sliver of hope that we shared a mutual vision for our lives, which we did not.
As I shoved over to the driver’s side, fastened my seatbelt and reversed out of the parking stall, I took a look at Tommy in my rear-view mirror. He was cursing and kicking the pavement and flailing his arms about. I felt sorry for him at the same time as I felt I had narrowly escaped a horrid future with this grubby, small-minded man. A promise ring? What was he thinking? We had barely fooled around, and already he wanted to shack up with me? Linda Evans would have said no, too.
* * * *
When I pulled up to the plot of lawn where we keep the truck, my mom came running out of the house. “Show me the ring,” she cooed, rubbing her floured hands on her apron. She stopped short of hugging me. “Where’s Tommy?”
“You knew about this?”
“Well…uh… Your father told me not to say anything, but they had a little chat the other night and…”
It was the worst conspiracy I’d ever had the displeasure of witnessing. I knew I’d have to leave this place. My parents were all too set on the idea of my furthering their ambitions. I couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing the world, of not knowing what it felt like to make it on my own. If Tommy wanted to stay here, let him. As for the farm, it was a clear oversight on my parents’ part to only have the two of us, and unfortunate that my sister was so useless.
* * * *
“What’d you do with Tommy?” my father asked, by way of opening up the dinner conversation.
“I dropped him off in Boise.”
“In Boise?”
“Yep.”
“What, the ring he gave you wasn’t big enough or something?”
“Not big enough at all.”
Faith gave me a dirty look and my parents just looked as if I’d committed the worst sin imaginable. After a lot of uncomfortable throat clearing, my mom picked up where Dad had left off.
“I can’t believe your biggest objection is the size of the ring.”
“If you knew me at all, you’d know I wasn’t talking about the ring. My dreams are bigger than all of this.”
I pushed my chair out, marched past her, out into the orchard, and kept on walking. I didn’t want to talk to anyone for a while. I had been taken aback by the tone of my own voice. The strength of my words came from my heart and they were true, but as soon as I’d said them I’d known I’d said something they would not understand. They’d never be able to comprehend my thoughts, ambitions, feelings or beliefs. We were so different.
When I came back into the house, everyone was still in the kitchen eating. A hush came over the room when I walked in and sat down. I filled my plate and, just as I began to eat my lumpy mashed potatoes, I saw my father’s smirk. The only sound in the room was cutlery on plates. Everyone averted their eyes.
“Why, I just can’t believe you can make a fella walk all the way from Boise. That’s a good day of walking,” my father said. Everyone at the table laughed.
“You owe me my best guy,” he continued. “Maybe Tommy’s not your dream man, but he is mine. So I’ll expect you bright and early out there since you seen to it that my guy’s nowhere around.”
I couldn’t argue with my father. His verdict was fair and I set my alarm, got up at five and joined him and the other men outside in my work clothes. The harvest stops for no one.
I was sitting on a barrel, eating an apple, when I spied Tommy’s figure at the gate. A couple of the guys ran over to him and my father, somewhat instinctively, turned to him. I took it all as my cue to go inside for a while. I liked watching soap operas but being in one was not my style.
I’d thought we had been discreet. I’d thought no one had known. Finding out that they had was not only devastating, but it irked me. I’d always had my secret plan, my secret version of myself, and the way they all looked at me now, I could tell the only version of me they saw was Tommy’s.
* * * *
However secret we’d kept ourselves before, news spread about the cruel way I’d rejected Tommy. Everyone disapproved of me and offered their sympathies to him. It was so typical. Faith told me I’d made the worst choice of my life and that now I’d never find a decent man, since I’d ruined things with Tommy. She could be so dramatic.
“He’s like every other man,” I told Faith. “I could get him back like that if I wanted.” I snapped my fingers.
“You could not.”
“Watch me.”
The dare was on. I had never lost an argument with Faith about anything. With my naïve sister in tow, I went to our room, where I changed into my white summer dress. Of all my clothes, this dress was the most revealing of my cleavage. I peeled off my panties and tossed them under my covers. Faith followed me out back to where the men were working.
“Tommy? Can I have a moment with you?”
He cocked his head to one side, confused by my friendly tone. “Sure.”
I took him by the hand and led him off to the orchard. I turned back and gestured to Faith to follow us, which she did not. I felt like I’d won already.
On the way to the orchard, Tommy said, “I’m heartbroken.”
“Don’t be so sentimental,” I said.
“I wanted to you to be my wife and you just laughed at me. Do you have any idea what that does to a guy?”
“It wasn’t personal. It’s not you I find laughable—it’s marriage.”
“Marriage?”
“The whole charade of it, the idea of one woman and one man acknowledging before God and man that they will only ever love each other.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing, but it’s not the way my heart works. And the idea that marriage means monogamy. I find that laughable, too.”
“You do?” He was incredulous.
“Of course. I’ve heard you talk about other women. I know you have needs.”
“Oh, Julie. You overheard us? Oh, baby, I’m sorry. That wasn’t for your ears. That’s just how guys talk. I was making it up.”
“It’s okay, Tommy. It’s natural. I have needs, too.”
“I was planning on taking good care of your needs once we got married.”
“
I know, Tommy. Let’s just skip the marriage part and I’ll let you take care of my needs right now.”
“Julie, it’s wrong.”
“No, it isn’t.”
I ran my hand down his front, feeling for his bulge. Even though I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life with him, I sure did appreciate the hulking gorgeousness that was Tommy. I felt him harden inside his jeans.
“Julie, I’m confused.”
“Don’t think so much, Tommy. Just let me take care of you.”
I unzipped his jeans and reached in to pull out his semi-erect penis. Holding it in my hand made me feel powerful. I stroked him.
“I don’t know if this is a good idea.”
“Trust me, it is.”
“But, Julie…”
“Shhh.”
I squatted down in front of him and took him in my mouth. I had big plans for him and the very thought that today was the day got me so wet I could feel myself throbbing. My summer dress rested on my thighs and I spread my legs apart and touched myself. I was soaked. I ran my forefinger and middle finger over my moisture. Then I paused my attention on Tommy’s cock so that I could stand up and shove my juicy fingers into his mouth.
“Oh, Julie,” he moaned after tasting me. “You aren’t wearing underwear. You are relentless.”
“That I am,” I said. “So you better surrender.”
He nodded. I pulled his jeans off, and he took his shirt off and placed it on the ground. I got him to sit on his shirt, then climbed on top of him, like I had before, but this time I slowly placed his hard cock at my wet opening.
He shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe this,” he said.
I eased him into me and felt my muscles squeeze and tighten around him. I’d always heard that the first time was supposed to be painful, but mine wasn’t. His cock felt so good inside me. I moaned and gasped at the pleasure of it all, the feeling of being filled up, of my pussy stretching to accommodate his impressive girth. I lowered myself completely onto him. He was so deep inside me that I felt like I couldn’t take any more. Then I pushed his chest back so that he was lying down and began riding him. The feeling was so natural, so utterly easy for me. Inside, I felt him stiffen even more. This was unlike anything I’d experienced before and everything about it pleased me, especially the knowledge that this was a dare to prove myself right to Faith. I wondered if she was hiding somewhere in the bushes watching, but I was quite sure I’d already satisfactorily made my point and she’d gone home, horrified by her sister’s immorality.
I rode Tommy so hard that I pounded the earth beneath us each time I lowered myself onto him. I’m sure we made the apple trees shake above us. I felt a tingling build within me, an energy that grew from somewhere deep inside my being. I wanted release. I needed it. Leaning forward just slightly, I felt the rub of his skin against my clitoris. He cupped my breasts in his hands. I cupped his hands in mine and guided his fingers to squeeze my nipples, which he did obediently.
“Mmm,” I moaned. “A little harder and I’m going to come.”
“Oh, my God,” he gasped. His mind could not keep up with our animal behaviour. His disbelief only encouraged my orgasm. There was so much pleasure in blowing his mind.
“Yeah, that’s it. Can you feel me?”
He nodded.
His commitment to satisfying my needs was delightful. I squeezed his cock with my vaginal muscles, feeling every nuance of our bodies against each other. And just as I was finding the rhythm of our friction again, something took over inside me. It was as though my clitoris and nipples were steering me, directing all of my movements to intensify the build-up of energy. Then there was the total surrender to pleasure. Everything around us disappeared. If Faith or anyone had been watching, I wouldn’t have seen. If it had started to rain, I wouldn’t have noticed. I wouldn’t have felt an earthquake. All my senses heightened to a level I’d never experienced before and my breath quickened. I could feel my heart pounding. My pulse raced through me and I felt as though I were encased in a blanket of soft silk. Everything surrendered to the feeling of bliss that overcame me.
Tommy took me in his firm embrace and held me tight as my pussy spasmed around his shaft. He clutched me to him and I collapsed onto him, savouring his embrace. Sharing my orgasm with him was like nothing I’d ever experienced.
“Julie, you are so beautiful,” he said.
I rested my head on his chest and recovered from the sheer exhaustion my body felt. He caressed my back and held me tight, his cock still hard inside me, though motionless. He took my hips in his strong hands and held me in place while he thrust his cock into me again. I was so sensitive that his movement made me squirm.
“Can I come?” he asked.
“Do you want to come in my pussy?”
He nodded. I moaned at the thought of it. My clitoris hardened at the idea. I’d been preparing for this very moment by taking the pill regularly since I’d started fooling around with him.
“Oh? How badly?” I teased.
“I’ll do anything for you.” He sounded so earnest.
“That’s what I like to hear,” I said, and lifted my torso just slightly, tightening my vaginal grip as I gyrated on him.
“Oh, Julie. Oh, Julie. Oh, Julie. I can’t take it much longer.” His voice sounded as if he were in pain—sweet, delicious pain. His cock was so hard inside me.
“Then fill me up,” I whispered into his ear. With that he emitted a loud moan and grabbed me by my hips, pulling me so tightly onto him that I felt every movement of his throbbing cock as he released. It was so warm, so satisfying. We stayed like that for a long while. His cock receded very slowly, finally slipping out of me in what felt like the ultimate relaxation. He wanted to kiss me but I didn’t let him, preferring to rest on his chest, in his arms. It felt so good and right.
“So I guess we’re back together again,” he observed. Poor Tommy.
“Let’s not be hasty,” I said.
He sat up, alarmed. His body language betrayed him. He went from completely calm to highly agitated. “I don’t understand you,” he said, and looked away.
“I told you already. It’s not personal. I just don’t want any of the same stuff you do. But I’m glad we shared this. I’ve wanted it for a long time and it was perfect.”
“Perfect? Hardly. Julie, I just took your virginity. Does that mean nothing to you?”
“It means a lot to me,” I said, trying to sway his mood. He was so much more enjoyable in his relaxed state. “Anyway, you didn’t take anything. I gave it to you.”
“Well, you took mine.” He put on his shirt and buttoned it up.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” he said indignantly.
“But… All those stories in the barn.”
“I told you. That was just man talk.” He stood up and pulled his jeans on, zipped them up and sat down beside me again, looking forlorn.
“You mean fiction?”
“Well… Yeah, I guess.”
This was unfathomable. “Tommy, you can’t put that on me.”
“I’m not putting anything on you, Julie,” he said emphatically, imitating me in a rather unflattering way. “I’m in love with you. That’s why I made love to you. Isn’t that why you made love to me?”
This was beginning to feel quite manipulative. I hadn’t thought he had that kind of complexity in him. His eyes were so hopeful, so innocent, as though he wanted me to jump into his narrative and behave exactly like his fantasy version of me. Instead, I shook my head.
“No, Tommy. I’m not in love with you.”
He sighed. “I just don’t understand you, Julie. I suppose I never will.”
Silently, I stood up. We walked solemnly back through the orchard. I felt his semen trickle down my inner thigh. It felt cool as the breeze hit it.
* * * *
That spring, a man in a suit visited my father several times. They took walks together around the garden so that their conversatio
ns could not be overheard. My mother sobbed many times in the kitchen. I walked in on her cuddling up to the antique buffet, clenching her apron in her fist and hiding her head inside her bent arm, crying.
My father finally made the announcement that we were bankrupt and had to flee. My mother, who had no intention of ever leaving, refused to listen to his logic that we take a train and start a new life somewhere else. She importuned him with the tiniest details, demanding to know who would replace her in baking for the congregation, and what would happen to her beautiful hydrangeas. My father fought with my mother for days. Afterward, he announced his departure to my sister and me, and he packed his suitcase and calmly walked out of the front door, down the pathway to his truck. He got in and drove away. I never saw him after that. He made no effort to contact us and we had no clue where he went.
My mother became ill immediately after my father left. My sister tried uselessly to help her, but she needed my mother’s strength to validate her efforts and my mother could not offer it. She was in bed for a week, then she died. All my life I’d endured her judgements, her strict rules and hypocrisy. For better or worse, everything disappeared along with her. My sister was devastated. She cried for days. I knew I would cry eventually, but I had a far more pressing concern—survival.
I tried to convince Faith that staying would be futile. The authorities were already making weekly visits to our property to collect the taxes my father owed. What would they do when they saw that we were living there alone now? We could not possibly run a profitable farm, they would say. Then they would take her and throw her into an orphanage or a convent or some horrid place. I told my sister that she should never let it happen to her. She had never foreseen the possibility of being alone in the world and had no idea how to handle it. I’d always known that my dreams were big and that I alone was responsible for making them happen.
It irritated me that my sister didn’t understand her value, even when I told her what it was. I was candid. I told her the truth—that she was beautiful. She had long, blonde hair that cascaded about her shoulders. Her eyes were doe-like and clear blue, and, if she hadn’t been my sister, I know I could have lost myself in those eyes, which were so responsive that she could express every emotion without ever opening her mouth. I told her how many of the weekend visitors would ask about her as they hauled away their boxes of produce. It was a blessing to be desired, but she didn’t see it that way.
