Inside Madeleine

by Paula Bomer

  I guess so. It’s just gross.

  Carrie looked at the TV.

  Maddy buttoned up her clothes. The next night, at her own house, she took her father’s shaving mirror out of the bathroom and locking her door, peered at her insides in the mirror. Carrie was right. From the outside its capacity wasn’t entirely visible, but she was not so easily deceived. She put three fingers inside and then looked. Yes, indeed, she thought. Yes I do.

  She began stealing vegetables from the fridge. Cucumbers, carrots, whole bunches of celery. Her mother thought she was eating them and occasionally said something to her daughter. When did you eat all of those, she’d say, looking at Maddy with narrow, suspicious eyes. Well at least it’s just vegetables, she’d say to her daughter. And Maddy did eat them—but only after she put them inside her. She shopped with her mother, buying the large, economy-sized bottles of shampoo. During her nightly bath, she worked up to putting them inside of her. Her crotch was smooth, baby peach, from pulling at all the pubic hairs. She wanted the whole world in there, she wanted the whole world to disappear in her cunt so that she could slide it—gleaming, coated damp—back out again. By the end of the seventh grade, she decided to do so.

  4

  She fucked the rink guard Oz again and the other one that Jennifer was never going to fuck. She fucked friends of theirs, too. On Friday nights, her mother would drop her and her new friend Carrie off at the rink. Sometimes Jennifer would be there but she never said hi to Carrie and Madeleine. Oz told his friends about her and they drove to Howard Park to see her, their souped-up cars roaring. She imagined the things he said to them. She’s beautiful. She has beautiful breasts. She’ll make you come so hard. With her mouth. With her cunt. She’s the best there is. And she’d think about their cocks, all big and hard, just for her. She made them that rigid, that sleek. They lost control for her. She drove them wild.

  But it wasn’t quite like that and Maddy knew it. She knew they came to see her, but she also knew the things Oz said to them were different than she imagined.

  They came in carloads of two up front and two in the back. Cute, tall, short, pimply, mean, quiet, scared, rough. Big cocks, small ones, but they were always hard. Pressed up against tight jeans. They’d get hard before she got in the car. They’d get hard just leaning over the rail of the ice rink, as Carrie and Maddy skated up to them in hot pink ski jackets that matched their hot pink lips. Their eyes sticky with sparkly blue eyeshadow and thick, thick mascara.

  They’d get hard as they asked the girls to come out and drive around, shifting from leg to leg, tight blue jeans revealing it, hands in their pockets, nervously looking around. Carrie would work the front and Maddy would work the back because they fit better that way. But it changed, too. Depending on who the boys wanted. Some dark skinned Italian boy who sat behind the wheel, compact and gruff, saying, come here Mad girl, come here. Get your big ass up here I don’t want that little skinny girl, his eyes black and round. And Maddy would smile smile smile, so wanted, so so wanted, and she’d get up front with him and Carrie would jump in the back.

  Their cocks hard against their jeans, thick, lumplike. She put her hand on it. Looking at it in their pants. Looking at the boy looking at his own thing, looking at her hand on his cock still nestled in his jeans. She unzipped their jeans, carefully, so as not to hurt the goods, some zippers moved right along, other stuck and rusted, took a while. Those were the best. The boys’ mouths would open, they’d get anxious, breathless, they’d put their hands there to help, sometimes grabbing the zipper from her and undoing it themselves, sometimes pulling out their hard cocks, sometimes leaving it in their Jockey underwear for her to pull out. They wanted it so bad it hurt them. Their cocks bouncing up, straining in their own skins. Beads of sticky clearness on top, quivering, dripping. So ready to blow Maddy bit her lip, trying not to laugh.

  She put her hand on it. Stroked it gently stroked it hard. She put her mouth on it, licking it. Jesus, girl. Oh my God. Grunt. Moan. She put it all the way back in her big lipsticky mouth. Tight hands in her hair, sweating palms. It never took long. They were powerless. Sometimes they pulled her up and put it in her, pulling her jeans down over her round ass, sticking it straight in without a finger to her cunt. Just pushing it right in there and sliding it in like butter because she was always wet and she was always ready.

  She fucked all the rink guards’ friends. Joey, John, Matt, Bobby. All the high school freaks. Long-haired, combs in back pockets, pot in the glove compartment, AC/DC, Black Sabbath on the radio. She fucked them so good, fucked them better than the high school girls—fuckmonster Maddy, only a little junior high student. They told the other high schoolers. They told the football team, they told the basketball players, they told all the boys who needed to fuck.

  She walked around her junior high, her head in the clouds, her thoughts on the weekends. The boys her age were small, lifeless things. Skinny, nervous, looking at her large, proud chest, hands in their pockets, playing with themselves. Sometimes, the ballsy ones, would say, hey Maddy I hear you give good head. She’d look straight at them, some younger brother of some boy she fucked, and they’d run away laughing, turning their heads back to look at her as they ran away, laughing at her. Pussies, she’d snear. Little fucking momma’s boys. No one’s ever touched your little cock. If you have one. Sometimes they’d come back, chins up, moist upper lip, saying, oh yeah. You want to see my cock? Their hands in their pants. She’d say, whip it out then why dontcha. Little faggot boy. Your fucking baby cock, I’ll laugh right at it. And they’re in their pants now groping around all nervous too scared to whip it out. And they say you whore, you fucking whore, pants unzipped, hand on their hard neglected little cock, too scared to show it and she’d say your mother’s a whore boy, that’s why you were born.

  When she graduated from junior high most of the high school boys she fucked had graduated from the high school. So she roamed the halls of the new, bigger school, coolly, mostly anonymous. The boys sometimes still came by the rink looking for her. Their cars bright red, engines loud as shit. But she grew tired of them, she started to see the lines on their foreheads and the pathetic look in their eyes. No longer in high school they moved out of their homes. Some moved in with their girlfriends and got married and stopped coming by now that they had pussy waiting for them at home. They had stupid jobs at garage stations and plants and factories and record stores. Their eyes grew duller and their brows wrinkly so she thought, no more of these old guys. The ones who didn’t marry moved in with each other, Tim and Steve and whoever and their apartments stunk of rotten garbage and stale beer in the filthy carpeting. Sitting around on beat-up couches and La-Z-Boys, their heads hanging low, turtlelike, crunched over, sitting around watching the same TV shows. They’d call her on the phone, saying Maddy why don’t you come over here and she did a few times but she liked them better when they were in high school. They had more confidence then.

  So she walked around that high school with a shadow about her but hardly anyone there was anyone she’d fucked. People looked at her, curious, having heard some thing or another, but they hadn’t experienced her. She picked and chose. She wore red high heels and tight jeans and backcombed her hair. She scared them all. She chewed gum loudly in class, she got great grades and she knew she could fuck whoever she wanted and knew she’d fuck them better than they’d ever been fucked before. So she fucked the ones she chose to fuck. She fucked the ones who deserved her shit. And then she fucked Mark.

  5

  He smiled at her in the hallway. His lips together, looking straight into her eyes, which very few people did. Most everyone looked at her sideways, including her teachers. Then he walked up to her while she was at her locker, so quietly she didn’t hear him and tapped her on the shoulder. He was taller than he appeared, narrow and slightly slouched. He asked her if she wanted to get coffee after school and she smiled at him wryly. Why wasn’t he fidgeting? Why wasn’t he looking away, embarrassed? She said no and laughed in h
is face, but she watched him walk away, noticing his long limbs and his loping gate.

  A week later he came up to her again.

  Well, look who’s here again, she said sarcastically.

  You should have coffee with me.

  I don’t drink coffee.

  You can order something else.

  Coffee doesn’t get me in the mood.

  He looked down at her breasts, tightly encased in an AC/DC T-shirt. He looked up at her and smiled.

  I’ll buy you a beer, then.

  Oooh, think you can handle that, she said and cocked her hips out.

  Sure. I’ll pick you up here after classes, he said, pushing his hands in his pockets.

  Madeleine shut her locker, saying, sure thing, big boy.

  He waved to her like a child as he sauntered off down the crowded hallway.

  After school, Maddy packed her books and started off to the side entrance. Mark came running after her.

  Hey, wait up. You said I could buy you a beer.

  Don’t believe everything you hear.

  Ah, come on. Let me buy you a beer. Please.

  He put his hand on her shoulder and gripped it tightly.

  Get your fucking hand off me.

  Okay, okay Mark said, waving his hands in surrender, I’m sorry.

  What kind of beer are you going to buy?

  Any kind you want.

  Do you have any weed?

  Sure. I’ve got great weed.

  You’ve got great weed? I find that hard to believe.

  I’ve got the best weed. California Sensemilia.

  No shit? I’m there, she said, pulling him toward the exit, I want to see this great weed.

  The weed was great. He pulled a plastic bag of light green, red-haired, sticky buds out of the glove compartment of his Chevy Nova. They both sat in the front seat and locked the doors and cracked their windows open. Madeleine was impressed.

  I didn’t know smart guys like you smoked killer pot.

  What do you mean?

  You hang out in the computer room all the time. I didn’t know you computer nerds smoked weed.

  We smoke the best weed there is. All your freak friends smoke shitty stuff.

  Fuck you man, they smoke good stuff.

  Mark expertly rolled a tight joint, licking the paper with flicks of his tongue.

  Bullshit. They smoke homegrown, leafy stuff that gives you a headache.

  How do you fucking know what they smoke?

  I’ve gotten stoned with them before. With that crowd.

  She laughed at him, saying, I doubt that.

  I have.

  He lit the joint and took a huge drag and passed it to her.

  They’d kick your ass before they’d let you get stoned with them.

  Not true, he said, his voice muffled from holding in the pot smoke. The car filled up with a sweet, strong odor as he slowly exhaled. He smiled and coughed a little and said, you’re just too busy giving head so you don’t notice anything.

  I keep my eyes open when I give head. I notice everything.

  Well, I’ve gotten stoned with your stupid freak friends and their pot sucks, he said, smiling confidently at her, and you’ve never noticed that.

  The pot made them giggly. Madeleine felt especially giggly because she was with a nerd. His hair was short and he wore brown loafers. They drove to a liquor store and Mark went in and bought a six pack of Budweiser. They drove to Howard Park and sat parked facing the St. Joe River, drinking beer. She worried that they would run into someone she knew and she didn’t want to be seen with him. After they finished the six pack, she put her hand on his crotch. He wasn’t hard.

  Stop that.

  Why?

  She grabbed harder.

  Seriously, stop that.

  Oooh, you’re shy, she laughed, no one’s ever touched you before.

  That’s not true.

  Then why are you scared, stud boy?

  I’m not scared.

  Why can’t I touch you?

  Because I want to kiss you first.

  Madeleine laughed.

  You want to kiss me?

  Yeah.

  Okay.

  He leaned toward her, his eyes closed and he placed his lips gently on hers. She began to laugh again.

  Stop laughing, he said, pulling back.

  I’m sorry, I can’t help it. I’ve still got the giggles.

  He pulled her close to him, saying, you shouldn’t wear so much make-up.

  I like wearing a lot of make-up.

  But you’re pretty and without make-up, I could see you better.

  Maddy, very stoned, thought this was funny and began giggling again. It was dark out. Other cars with other teenagers sat parked around them. He began kissing her, more firmly, licking the corners of her mouth and sucking gently on her tongue. She felt herself relax. She had never kissed anyone before, not there on the mouth, not really kissed.

  6

  The first time Mark gave Maddy head they were in his bedroom and his parents were out to dinner at his aunt’s house. His sisters were out God knows where. Maddy and he had been going out, fucking in his Chevy Nova, for a few months. It was a special occasion having the house, doing it in a bed. They were naked and the only light was from a streetlight outside and it lit up her large bones nicely. He could see the riverlike stretchmarks on her breasts and stomach, how the inside of her thighs sagged delicately. She lay on her back, her strong arms stretched above her head and he kissed her breasts and put his tongue in her navel and then, using both hands, spread her thighs apart, spread her cunt apart and he could feel her muscles tighten and was about to put his face in it when she sat up, looking confused and said, wait.

  What, he said. She huffed and looked away and put fingers in her mouth. He said, don’t you want me to and she said nothing. He put his face there and licked gently and she moaned and pulled away again. He said, what’s wrong. She said, I’m embarrassed, really quietly, not like herself.

  Whenever Maddy and he fucked she grunted lustily. She swore at him and sneered almost cruelly when she gave him head. She sucked his dick with a passion. She was a slut, a sex specialist, a high school whore. She wore the tightest jeans and the brightest make-up. She never smiled and no one scared her. Other kids made fun of him for fucking her, saying, you’re going to get a disease, that girl’s pussy is rank, she fucks everybody, she’s a skanky ho. But he didn’t care and now he knew he was waiting for that moment when her face would light up all scared and all her hardness melted away and her voice became so little and she had never had anybody eat her out or make her come.

  He gave her head that night and he had her smeared all over his face and his nose burned from breathing out of it, his teeth were numb and his lips swollen and he made her come so hard that she cried. Big scary sobs, wordless words, whole sentences that made no sense. Her pussy swelled and shook and she grabbed his back and tore holes in his skin and screamed so loud he knew the neighbors heard her.

  He had her. He had the girl no one else could have and no one wanted because she was such used trash but he had her in a way no one had ever had her. He broke her shell and what was inside was so pink and so vulnerable it scared him at first. Then he liked it. Then he loved it. Then he knew what it was he had. He had her.

  When they fucked she still slit her eyes and made noises and sometimes she’d still curse but it was different. She lost her meanness. They’d go to drive-in movies and instead of grabbing his cock with her teeth gritted, she’d smile all shyly at him and sometimes she’d put his hand between her legs and give him this pleading look. All she ever wanted was head. She perfumed her cunt with peach-flavored lotion and powdered it with honey-tasting powder and shaved it and wore silky underwear with little bows on them. Pink panties and a black garter or a red G-string that went right up the crack of her ass like a strand of licorice. She spread her legs so wide and said Mark, give it to me, that’s it, don’t stop, oh God don’t stop. He watched her
change so quickly and she changed just for him because she still walked around that school with her eyes all hard and her make-up too bright and the thick seam of her jeans rudely splaying her cunt lips apart, her hips jutted foreward. But she’d take one look at his skinny ass in the hallway and all that hardness melted away like butter. She stumbled over her words and blushed and fidgeted and would whisper and giggle in Mark’s ear like a virgin. People said what are you doing with that disgusting ho bag but he never listened to them because he knew her soft side and it was so soft it seemed it could disappear.

  He’d make her beg for it say please Mark, say pretty please and she’d say it with her voice quivering, her cheeks all hot and red. He’d say, what are you going to do for me and she’d say anything, anything. He said let me fuck you in the ass and she’d say okay, okay. And she’d roll onto her stomach and lift her hips into the air, her pink, crinkly holes right out in the open and say, get the KY, her head pressed into the pillow, her voice all muffled.

  That’s when she started to show him her tricks. She put her fingers inside herself for him and she said, I can do more. If I show you will you eat me? She said, I used to do it alone at home. She said, now I’ll do it for you, don’t you want to see it? She put her fingers in there and then her hand, concentrating, eyes wide and her mouth stretched open like her cunt. He said let me do it, Maddy, and she’d say do it and he put his fingers in her and then his hand. He put all sorts of things inside of her. Her breathing would become deep and regular, so rhythmic and steady, like a swimmer or something and her eyes became focused inward, wide open, glazed, never blinking. He tied her legs apart, her knees bent up and he put a fist or a shoe in her and she’d exhale so so slowly and close her eyes.

  And she’d say now will you give it to me, now will you eat me Mark, yeah, yeah, now give it to me, looking up at me, her eyes begging, her mouth shaking, a Coke bottle in her cunt and a vibrator in her ass. So then he gave it to her—He’d give her head and she’d grab his hair, move him around until he sucked just that right spot and she’d scream unearthly things, their bodies turned around again and again until he lay underneath her cunt, her soft thighs grabbing his cheeks.