She was from the hollows of West Virginia, the land of mountains, briars and coal mines. She was married at the age of 18 because of barbed wire and blackberries. Her girl friend got married also, she was 19 and ripe.
They were both ripe for the picking as their future husbands drove around the curve in a rusty pick-up on a dusty country road on a hot July day.
She was a large girl at eighteen. She could have been a Vikings dream girl. She wouldn't get much larger. If she did she would have a hell of time finding clothes that would fit. She was a big boned, Scots Irish girl with freckles. If you counted her freckles and gave her a pound for each she was packing about 350 freckles. She had not had much success with the local mountain boys. She could get them to bang her but none of them would admit it the next day. She didn't know if the problem was her size or the golden red pelt that covered her entire body
Her first time had been a bad memory. The local lad that took her on was wild ass drunk. He was used to beer and drank a Wise jar, of her family's recipe. He tried pumping her on the porch sofa. They broke the sofa. She stained it in an obvious location.
He yelled out. "The sofa is spinning." Then he vomited all over her and the virgin stained sofa. She managed to extract herself. She couldn't wake him from his puke puddle. So she hooked a rope to the 2 inch receiver ball on the back of his pick-up. Tied it to the couch and drug it and his drunken ass down the road to the next hollow towards his house.
She pulled the truck and the passed out drunk off into the grass. She didn't like walking, so she drove his truck back to her house.
He showed up a week later walking and handed her Father the title to his pick-up. "I traded my pick-up for your porch couch, here's the title. My Dad said that I shouldn't make trades with girls, they are smarter then us. I'd bring the couch back but it doesn't have legs any more and my dogs licked a hole in two of the cushions."
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The two girls had picked the black berries that were easy to reach. They didn't have enough to make an 8 inch pie. They decided to extend their search to the other side of the barb-wire fence into the field. The loaded bushes in the field beckoned to them. Pick me, pick me. Eat me, eat me. The big girl had already eaten most of the berries that she had picked.
"Let's get over this fence and get the big berries."
The barb-wire fence was old and stooped low. The big girl took the high road. Her friend decided to lift the top strand and slide on in. The barbs lodged in the big girl's leg, which pushed it down into her friend. It got worse as they yelled and struggled against each other, the wire was their enemy.
They determined, after the bleeding slowed down that they would need to pull off most of their clothes to egress the wire. Some of the wire had pulled loose and it was starting to look like the wire balls surrounding a prison camp.
"We got to shed our clothes to get out of this wire. Help me get out of my pants." Both of the girls were helping each other remove torn clothes. They were down to their bras and panties when their future husbands rounded the curve.
The lad sitting shotgun spotted his old pick-up. ""Pull over that's my truck, "Pretty Blue" down there."" The rescue lads pulled up next to the blue pick up. They could see and hear the barb-wire girls.
The big girl was wired up where she could not see the road. "Who is it? Who is it?"
"Looks like that boy that you traded your couch for his pick up truck and his cousin."
"Cousin, we're all cousins, which one?
"Second or third, probably once removed, he's sort of cute and older."
The lads approached. "Do you girls need any help?"