Joan Casey RoadbySoftly©
I’m sure that you have never been by my home, known as the 6 C ranch. It is located two miles west of the intersection of routes number 183, and route 13, north of Hays, Kansas. There were times when I was growing up that I thought that I would never get away from the place. The main house was built in1896. Big old two story with the gas fixtures still in place, even though we have had electricity all of my life. Life was always busy from sun up until sunset.
There was Dad, Mom, my three older brothers, Earl, Walter, and Brad, and me. Even though mom does not like it, my brothers all call me, Runt. I’m Joan Marie Casey.
Dad is a devout churchgoer. He has very firm ideas as to when a young girl should date, and under what conditions. All through high school the operative words from him were, “Not yet.”
I was a cheerleader. He would drive me to the site of the football games. He would plunk himself in the stands to watch, mainly me. When the game ended, he would drive me home. Damn!
If there was something going on at school that my brothers were going to, Dad would suggest to them that I was to go along with them. Dad’s suggestion was an order. The guys knew it. From time to time, one would tell me that I was a pain-in the-ass. Dad made it clear to them that they were responsible for my welfare.
As you might imagine, by the time that I was a senior, I was very curious about learning more about sex in general, boys in particular.
I discovered that if I stood on a chair next to the wall with a small shoe rack on it, that I was able to see into the bathroom through the small air vent between rooms. Since it was our only bathroom, I got to look at everyone. We did not have a shower, so one by one my family was displayed for me in the tub.
Things got interesting when I saw Dad carefully wash his thing. He then ran his hand up and down it a few times. It was starting to stiffen. He took a couple feet of toilet paper off the roll, put on his robe and walked out.
Ten minutes later, there was a soft squeaking noise coming from their bedroom. Later, Dad came back to the bathroom. I watched him suds and wash his thing again. Just after he returned to the bedroom, Mom came into the bathroom. She lifted he leg to remove the toilet paper which was stuffed into her. Then, she used a wet soapy wash cloth to clean out her woman area. Mom and Dad were in their forties. They are still doing it?
That night I put my finger in me. I tried to picture my Mom laying on her back with Dad on her. What did that feel like?
I watched my brothers with renewed interest. Their things all looked to be the same size. They were all very proud of their things. Each of them, at various times, would get his hard and stand looking at himself in the mirror.
I would say that it was in May of my senior year when my brothers went from thinking of me as the pain-in-the-ass to being a girl worth looking at. Without telling my folks, I had purchased a skimpy bathing suit. My brothers took me with them to the EZ B Ranch to swim in the brook. Both the Booker boys were there with us. I was the only girl. The boys came up with a game of king-of-the-hill, which we played in the water. Since there were six of us, there were three teams of two, with one person sitting on their partners shoulders.
My breasts and fanny were grabbed a lot. I knew what was going on. The boys were feeling me every chance they got. When it got dark, my brothers and John Booker decided to go visit a buddy in Great Bend. Tom Booker spoke up. “Earl, I’ll make a sandwich for Joanne, then take her home. That will save you twenty minutes.”
“Thanks Tom, appreciate it.”
It never occurred to my brothers or me that Tom had any designs on me. It just didn’t.
Soon Tom and I were alone. After we ate a turkey sandwich, and each had a glass of milk, Tom said. “Gee Joanne, you still have on that wet top, and your tank top on it is wet too. How about if I get you one of my flannel shirts, since it is getting chilly out? We can go out to past the brook. There is a hay mound there. We can watch the shooting stars.”
“I’d like that Tom.” I responded. God, a boy, a real live boy, wanted to be alone with me. I used Tom’s room to take off my tops. Before I put on the shirt, I looked at my image in the mirror. I studied my breasts, each of which I had cupped my hands under to hold them away from my chest. Most of the time at the brook, when the guys looked at me, it was not my face that their eyes were on, it was these. I went down stairs. Without a bra on, the flannel shirt rubbed my nipples, causing me to think of them. That led me to think of my womanhood. It suddenly hit me that there was no one to check on me. Mom and Dad were in Denver for three days for a farm meeting. Tom‘s parents were at the same doings. I had heard Earl tell Tom that they would probably crash at their friends ranch tonight. I resolved to flirt with Tom, try to have him neck with me. The more I thought about it, the more aroused I became.
Tom made a level spot on the top of the hay mound. He spread a large blanket. There was no moon. The night was black. There was not a farm light in sight. We lay on our backs chatting. “How old are you, Tom?”
“I was eighteen on April first.”
I heard his laugh. “Heck of a bummer to be born on April first, I’d have to say.”
“Not too bad. Dad told my brothers to lay off of me with their pranks.”
Tom eased over next to me. I could feel the heat of his body against mine. It felt good. He cupped my chin in his hand, while giving me a kiss. I closed my eyes, while kissing him back. We embraced, kissing all the while. His hand went to my left breast. I make no move to stop him then, or when his hand went under the flannel shirt. The sensation of his rolling my nipple between his fingers caught me by surprise. Oh, I loved how it felt. I didn’t want this to ever stop.
It was all so comfortable. The smell of the newly cut hay. Tom’s after-shave lotion. The warmth of his body. I did not protest when he shifted to lie on my right leg, with one of his legs between mine, nor when he shifted again to lie between my legs. He was doing all the things to me that I had dreamed of. He added another new sensation, when he humped his crotch against mine. The more I let him spread my legs, the better it felt. I lost track of time.
Tom finally said, “Joanne, it is getting cold out here. Lets go back to the house.”
“Happy to, Tom.” I thought to myself, this is wonderful. I have necked, let a boy get me all hot and bothered. I like this being with a guy stuff.
Once in the house, I went up stairs to use the bathroom. After, I went to Tom’s room, to change back into my clothes so that Tom could take me home. Before I could find the light switch, Tom pulled me into the room, while shutting the door behind me. He kissed me. When I put my arms up to hold him, I was shocked to find that he had no clothes on.
He unbuttoned the shirt. He slid it off my shoulder. As his hands lowered it off my arms, he continued to allow his hands to lower until he got to my shorts, which he unbuttoned, unzipped, and let fall to the floor. It had all taken just seconds. I was naked. Not a word was spoken. I guess all I could think was he was doing it so that we would be more comfortable necking.
He kissed my lips. His warm body was pressed to mine. One hand was pawing my fanny. He lifted me onto the bed. While giving me a long kiss, his finger went to my slit. I put my hand on his hand. I gently tried to push it away from my womanhood. He kept it in place, with his finger slowly going in and out of my insides. It felt better and better to me. He moved the hand to spread my legs further. Now, he could get all of his finger in me. I took my hand away from his. I spread my legs further. His finger was giving me feelings that playing with my breasts or rubbing the outside of my clothes covered crotch were not ever close to. I knew that he would try to have sex with me. I also knew that I wanted him to.
He slid between my legs. The fingers of his right hand opened me down there. I felt him direct the end of his thing to my entrance. I was scared. I tried to close my legs, even thought that was impossible.
“Hush, Joan.” As he said that he pushed part of himself into me.
The only answer was his fanny pushing the rest of him into me. He kissed me. It was a long kiss. He was just barely moving in me. He picked up speed. He lowered his head so that it rested next to mine.
His thrusts picked up a steady rhythm. We were both bouncing up and down on the bed. My legs were flailing in the air. It felt so good. I could not believe how good it felt. No wonder Mom let Dad do this to her.
It kept getting better and better, until “whamo” I had an orgasm.
“Oh, God, Tom, it, oh, oh, Tom. Tom.”
I felt him tense up. He broke out in a sweat. He grunted “Uh, Uh.”
I felt his cum in me. We lie there without moving for several minutes. He kissed me gently on the ear, then the neck. He did not know it, but I was beaming. What a night this was.
He played with my left breast. Soon he was hard again. I could not wait for him to be in me again.
As he sunk himself into me, I took his head in both hands to give him the best kiss that I knew how to give. When I finished, he reached down to lift my legs to where they were next to my chest. He placed a hand on each part of my fanny, pulling my rear up in the air slightly. Much faster then the first time, he ran himself in and out of me, hard and fast. I cum again. It was much more emotional for me then the first time. “Oh, Tom, that is wonderful.”
Just after three AM, we both took a shower. Tom took me home. I went to my room. For all of twenty minutes, I stood looking at myself in my full length mirror. I now knew exactly what my womanhood was for, and how much fun it is to use it. I wanted a lot more nights like tonight. I knew, also, that if Dad got wind of me being with Tom, or any other guy for that matter, that there would be hell-to-pay.
I needed to learn how to be crafty.
I phoned Tom, even though it was now four fifteen AM.
“Yaw, Tom Booker.”
“Tom, this is Joan.”
“Joan, I’m too tired to come back to get you.”
We both laughed.
“Tom, I don’t know how well you know my Dad, but I have to tell you this. If he gets wind of me being at your house, just the two of us, he will blast off.”
“Joanne, It is our secret.”
“Thanks Tom. I had a nice evening. Goodnight.”
I should have known better. A twenty-two year old guy who has sex with a virgin has to tell someone. Tom did. He told his brother John the next night. John told Frank Whitehouse, who works at the grocery in Hays. In days every male in the county, except for my father, and brothers, thank God, knew that I had spent hours having sex with Tom Booker, and that I loved every minute of it. At the time, I did not know all this. But, a lot of things happened all at once which, fortunately for me, paved the way for more excitement for me then I could have possibly dreamed of.
Monday, I took the pick-up into town. I went to Dr. Norton’s office. I spoke to Mrs. Jarvis, his nurse. She spoke briefly to Dr. Norton, who had been my doctor for years. She said that she had to do an internal on me. After looking at me, she said, “It is a good thing that You came in to get a prescription for the pill. I see that you are sexually active.”
I just smiled. “Thank you.” I left, wondering how she knew that I had sex, since that was two days ago.
I got a job at the bank. Dad purchased a new pick-up for he and Mom to use. He let me have the old one. Dad followed me out to my truck the first day of my new job. He shuffled his feet a couple times, then pushed his hat back on his head.
“Joan, your mother and I had a little chat about you. Your mother thinks that since you are now eighteen, out of high school, and have a job, that it is time for us old folks to butt out of your personal life. Well, what I’m telling you is that you are free to date. Your mother says that finding a husband is a trial and error thing, and it is time for you to start dating.”
I gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks Dad. Got to go.”
As I drove to town, I mulled over their little chat about me. I would have loved to have heard that conversation. I had heard that Mom was a hot ticket when Dad met her. I know that she had dated a lot of guys. I wondered how many men had been between her legs.
I was a trainee for the first week on the job. The following Monday, I was having a conversation with Sandra Jones, one of the other tellers. I mentioned that I knew Tom and John Booker. Sandra laughed. “I was in Tom class.”
“Ever date him?”
“Yes. He dated every girl in the class at one time or another. Every girl wanted to date him. He had a car, money, and is nice looking.”
Sandra looked down at her coffee cup, took a deep breath, took a sip and looked at me. “I would have married him, but I could not hold him. He was dating and having sex with other girls all the time that he dated me. A girl friend of mine asked around for me. She found out that he had sex with every girl in our class.”
I did not tell Sandra, but that bit of information explained to me why he had not been calling me to go out with him.
Sandra said, “Say, this Saturday, I am going to drive to Denver, go to the Plymouth Mall, take in a movie. If you want to come alone, we can share the cost of a room, stay the night, shop the next day, and come home.”
“I would love to go. Thank you Sandra.”
Saturday came. We went. Shopped. But instead of a movie, I talked Sandra into going to a lounge. I asked the girl at the motel desk, “Could you tell me where we can find a nice lounge to go to?”
“What kind of place are you looking for?”
I got closer to her. Whispering, I said, “someplace where we can meet some men.”
“There is a good spot right around the corner called the “Gold Mine.” It doesn’t look like much on the outside, but it is the hangout for all the construction guys. It is really wild on Saturday night.”
Nine-thirty found Sandra and I strolling into the “Gold Mine.” Sandra whispered to me, “I don’t know about this place. There are only about ten couples. There has to be fifty guys.”
I whispered back to her. “We should have a great time. We can flirt, dance, get all the free drinks we want.” This was coming from a girl who had never had hard liquor, or been drunk.
What we didn’t know was that most of these guys knew each other. The two guys who followed us into the place had noticed out Kansas plates. They passes the word around that we were a couple of Kansas farm girl here in the big city alone.
We had just sat in out seats at the booth when a waiter came over. “What are you ladies drinking tonight? The boys in that booth over there are buying for you.”
I had no idea what to order. I waited for Sandra to order something. She said to the waiter. “I don’t know much about drinks, what do the women usually order?”
That sealed our fate right then and there. He knew that neither of us knew one drink from another. Without missing a beat, he said, I will get both you ladies a “Denver.”
Months later, I would learn that what he brought us was a “Denver Zombie,” made of 150 proof rum, 150 proof vodka, lemon juice, lime juice, Hawaiian punch, and coconut juice. They came in a twelve ounce glass half filled with chopped ice. It is a tasty drink. It goes down so smooth. Before we go any further, I will tell you that there is no indication that you are about to be very intoxicated until you are.
All four guys at the booth the waiter had pointed to sauntered over to our booth. Two of the guys sat down with us. The other two dragged chairs over to sit on.
The one next to me spoke, “Hi, I’m Randy. This here is Burt, that’s Billy. That’s Jason.”
I smiled at them all. “I’m Joan. This is Sandra.”
Randy continued, “You girls in town for long?”
“Just tonight and tomorrow.” I thought that I was being crafty by now telling them which motel we were staying at.
“Well Joan, we come here on Saturday night to have a hell of a good time. Lets not waste any time. Care to dance?”
I could not get out of that booth fast enough. The DJ was playing a “Brooks & Dunn” song. We jitter-bugged. Randy was good. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Sandra dancing with Jason. She still was a little reserved.
After two fast dances, we returned to the table. It was a hot night, so I was sweating. Both Sandra and I gulped down our drinks. We danced two dances. When we returned to the table we each had a new drink waiting for us. The guys were drinking the same thing we were.
I noticed a change in Sandra. She had a big smile on her face. She shook her shoulders during the dances. She was making sure the guys knew that she had something to shake. I watched the guys to see if they noticed. Half the guys in the place were watching her. I had to go to the ladies room. While in there, I took off my bra. I was just putting on my blouse when Sandra walked in.
“Going to shake those puppies for the boys, are we?”
“I’m, having just the best time.”
“Well if your taking your bra off, I will too.”
Four other girls came into the lounge. They watched the attention that we were getting. Competition for attention developed. All this was not lost on the owner of the “Gold Mine.”
The music stopped. The DJ announced that there would be a contest for the title of “Miss Gold Mine.” The scoring would be in two parts. First, each contestant had to take off her top. She was then to place her tits on the bar to be measured. The largest tits would be worth fifty points. Each set of smaller ones would be worth five points less. Then the girl was to dance with as little on as she dared. The crowd would vote on which girl turned them on the most. The winner was to receive a hundred dollars. She also was to let every guy in the place feel her tits.
The guys went crazy. They screamed, stomped their feet, while pounding on the tables. Seventeen girls went up to the bar to enter. I had the fifth largest breasts, so my score on the first part was a thirty. We drew numbers to see who would dance when. I said to the owner, why not let us all dance at the same time. Several of the other girls heard my suggestion. One said. “I like that. I won’t be the only one out there.”
“Okay. Here is how we will do it.” the owner said. “As the dance goes on, I will put my hand over each girls head. The cheers of the crown will determine if she leaves or stays, until there is only one.
I whispered to Sandra. “What are you taking off?”
Drunkenly, with a smile she said, “everything except my panties.”
The music started. I kicked off my shoes, socks, jeans, and put my shoes back on. I had forgotten which pair of panties that I had on. They were old white cottons. They had a tear right below my pubic bone, as well as a brown blood stain from the last time my period started. I was mortified, and mad at the same time. I stopped, slid them off, threw them in the general direction of my clothes, and started to dance. I have bright red hair. My bush is just trimmed enough so that it does not hang out of my swim suit.
Sandra saw what I had done. She stopped, slid off her panties, put her hands on her hips while thrusting her pussy towards the cheering guys at the bar. Soon there were seventeen naked women, all trying to outdo the others.
The woman who had the largest tits appeared to be close to forty. She, now only wearing her shoes, danced over to the guy she was with. She thrust her pussy towards his face. He put his face right into her bush. I had to do something to top that. I danced over to the guys sitting at the bar. I went from guy to guy, hitting each one in the face with my breasts. The forth guy reached around me. He grabbed both cheeks of my fanny, pulling me onto his lap. He took a mouth full of my right tit. He was yanking and pulling on my left tit.