Amply Rewarded (3 page)

“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 conversations 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.

This information disgusted her. I tried to convince her it was a good thing. I told her that neither one of us ever had to worry about starvation. I told her about the woman in the congregation who was half the age of her rather repugnant husband. I told her what I had overheard some years ago. She had been alone and desolate when she’d met him, and she’d pretended she’d been travelling and had been robbed of her passport, money and luggage. He’d stopped for her on the old dirt road where she was walking and had taken her in for the night. Now they were married and, even though she did not seem particularly happy, she was obviously well fed.

I pointed out that we knew many men just in and around our property, and if we were willing to go into the world, we would undoubtedly find more. Men were the easiest key to survival, but Faith didn’t understand.

My story did nothing positive for my sister. She was daunted by my suggestion. She told me I was wretched, sordid and filthy and that she didn’t want to have anything to do with someone who would even consider using her God-given beauty in such a lewd way.

“Suit yourself,” I said. I vowed never to feel sympathy for her in all of her self-righteousness.

“I’m marrying Tommy,” she announced. Her tone implied that she meant for this information to sting. It didn’t. I would have taken care of her out of the sense of responsibility that older, smarter siblings inherently have towards their inferior younger ones, but I was relieved that I wouldn’t have to.

“Congratulations.”

I went upstairs and packed my clothes. I took my mother’s wedding ring in my palm and studied it. It had meant so much to her. I didn’t understand it. There was a sombre emptiness in my stomach, but also a sense of adventure and freedom greater than any I’d ever known. I said a prayer for my mom. I left the ring on Faith’s pillow. Taking one last glance at the house that had been my home for all of my twenty years would have been a mistake, and I still have no regretful sentiment that I did not keep a picture of that day in my mind.

I was twenty by the time I left. I would have gone earlier if I’d had the money. After five years of saving my meagre weekend earnings, hidden, I had accumulated enough to buy a ticket to the coast and to stay in a hotel for two or three nights. It had been my plan to do that, then to meet a rich gentleman—like the ones that pulled in at the weekends to buy produce, only richer and urbane. I wanted to leave and not come back until I had made something of myself.

It wasn’t long before my feet grew tired from walking. I had been on the dirt road for hours and dusk had set in. It was time to placate myself with reminders of how I would succeed and how this summer would be the turning point I needed in order to grow. I had everything I could possibly need to survive—right there with me as I walked.

It was the loneliest I’d ever felt, and the most reverent. Emotions always present themselves best with their antithesis. This was the culmination of every feeling I’d had in years. I was despondent as well as determined. I had to look forward.

Chapter Two

The Road

I spent the first night in an abandoned barn, using my other dress as my blanket and the hay inside the almost crumbling building as my insulation. The air was warm. Sounds of mosquitoes kept me awake for quite a long time after dark. Then my fears set in. I was so tremulous that I could not move, so I closed my eyes and slept. I was glad that I could experience this kind of fear alone and live through it. My rational sensibility that I was safer in that abandoned barn than any other place I could have ended up that night kept my vision focused and I assured myself that I didn’t need to rely on anyone else—I had a great relationship with myself and I would nurture and take care of myself from then on, and do it proudly.