Carly's Journey

It was the annual block party at the Wilson's, since we lived on a dead end street it should have been called a street party, but there is no arguing with Betty Wilson, the rest of us went along to get along. If they wanted to supply all the beer, booze and food along with cleaning the mess out of their yard, they can call it whatever they like.

It was my first as a single mom, my illustrious example of faithfulness and chivalry had departed with a pink titted and perfect ass slut seven months ago. I have to admit, she did have a perfectly shaped taught ass attached to long slender legs and tits that stood proud with no sag, then again miss pink tits hadn't birthed three daughters either. I guess cashing in his 36 year old bride for a 23 year old slut made better sense to him.

You might say I shouldn't call her a slut just because she stole my husband, but then you don't know that I went to school with her older sister and watched as this young lady (I use the term lady tongue in cheek) gave it away from the time she was 14. Not with just one boy either, she would drop her panties for anything with a dick, and when being bi was supposed to be cool, she was as loose with girls as she was with boys. So yes, in my eyes, she's a slut. Pardon me, I digress.

I had my fifteen year old when I was 20, my twelve year old when I was 23 and my baby of 10 when I was 25. At that point I realized I was no more than a breeding machine for my egotistical husband and had my tubes tied, he threw a hissy fit, but I figured screw him, he had all the fun and I had all the work.

I soon became the soccer mom, the swim team mom, the girl scout leader mom, the booster club volunteer mom, and last but not least, the "oh you're Kenny's wife" mom. I apparently no longer had a first name.

Growing up Kenny and I lived a half mile apart on family farms, we would make that trek almost every day to play and when school was in session, we walked the mile and a half into town anytime the weather permitted. During high school when life became busier with extra-curricular activities, though we both had chores to do at home after school, our parents made accommodations for us to be teenagers as well. A late activities bus for the country kids got us all home around six, we'd do our chores, have supper and then homework. When Kenny got his license, we would make the trek to and from school together in his dads old '58 jeep with a heater that worked sometimes.

It was in these years we came to love one another, or maybe it would be more accurate to say I fell in love, my heart did a flip flop for him right after my first period. It was almost as though a switch had been turned on inside as I began seeing Kenny as a male and not just the boy down the road. As I was growing pubic hair and little bumps on my chest Kenny was filling out along with his voice dropping an octave or three. Farm boys are muscular by nature, it's what happens when manual labor is a big part of your life, but when they begin to become broad chested, thin waisted and handsome faced, they take on an entirely different aura.

We had begun our young love journey at fifteen. It started sweetly, as it's supposed to, catching the other looking at you, the shy smiles knowing they are thinking about you, the sneaky way you find a reason to be next to each other at events, recognizing that voice and immediately gravitating to it. Him doting over me, making sure I had something to drink in hot weather and that I was warm in cool weather, more than once he put his letter jacket around my shoulders on the bus while he pretended not to shiver. You now begin to understand why in the first paragraph I referred to him as my example of faithfulness and chivalry. Little did I know at that point it was all an act, a way to attempt getting into my panties.

Once he had his license we discovered a new element in our relationship, privacy. An element that nearly destroyed us before we began. Kenny was a male in every sense, while he wasn't mean or demanding, he made it clear there were certain things he desired and was going to pursue at all costs. We learned to kiss in the hay fields and behind the machine shed or in the hay mow. After we turned 18 I learned what it was to be felt up in that Jeep, something I wasn't necessarily interested in or wanted at that time. I would push his hands away from my breasts, he'd put them right back until I would yell "no" in an outburst, at which time our evening would end abruptly.

In time he backed off until I was ready for some light petting and he was willing to let that be enough. What I learned after the prick left me is that during the time I wouldn't let him do anymore than caress my breasts, he was hosing BettyLou Dobbs two valleys over. I also learned that his screwing around hadn't stopped even after had I begun allowing him more freedom with my body. I was determined to not lose my cherry until I had a wedding ring on my finger and there wasn't room for any negotiation.

I did begin to enjoy our make out sessions the more I allowed him to explore. With me now allowing him to open my blouse and lift my bra so he could feel and suck I grew to love the tingles it sent to my pussy, the wetness that seemed to dampen my panties. I'm not sure if he could smell my sex, but I sure as hell knew it was obvious, the aroma would fill the inside of the car. I was letting him feel between my legs and once in awhile put his hand under my skirt up to the point of touching my panties.

The first time I let him slide his hand down the front of my gym shorts he stopped when he encountered my soft silky muff, then ran his finger softly down along my slit bringing some of that juice up along my clit as he moved his finger back and forth. He stopped and I felt him shudder, at that point I pulled his hand out of my panties and told him I needed to go home.

Laying in bed with a finger squishing in and out of my horny little pussy it dawned on me that he had cum in his underwear. I laughed lightly as I stroked myself closer to my own orgasm, 'boy, that must have been a sticky mess driving home, and how do you explain cum crusted underwear to your mom when she does laundry?' As it was my mother was giving me odd looks and asking some private questions. Showing me the crotch of my panties and how they were crusted from discharge her statement was, "You haven't given away the milk have you?"

I shook my head emphatically, I could say that with all honesty, and I was glad because my mother always knew when I lied. I also knew what she had implied, we milked cows and the inference was if you give the milk away there's no reason to buy the cow, in other words make sure you're married before you give away your virginity. She sat at the table with me, pointed at the crusty panties and gave me that raised eyebrow questioning look. I have no doubt she knew exactly what it was all about, but she needed me to let her know that I knew what she did.

"Kenny and I were making out and I let him feel my breasts, mom it made me so wet, it was like there was a connection between my breasts and my ... you know." In barely a whisper I said, "pussy."

She patted my hand and told me to make sure it went no further because once a boy has his hand in your pants it becomes much harder to say no. Boy did she have that right, it made me imagine what she and dad had been like while they courted. I looked at pop in a whole new light after that conversation. Kenny and I were determined to get married the summer after graduating and nothing was going to stop us, especially not sound reason or rational thinking. As I look back it was his dick and my horny pussy that made the final decision. Our folks stopped fighting us and gave in, we were married in July, I was pregnant in September and I had Julie shortly after my twentieth birthday. Kenny was hired by the local feed mill as a driver delivery guy, which meant he would be at numerous farms a day, the perfect recipe for disaster if you're a skin hound like him. The slut he eventually left me and our daughters for was none other than BettieLou Dobbs youngest sister. Gee, wonder why I wasn't surprised.

For the first time in my life I stood alone with three young girls putting all their trust in me to make sure they were safe and well taken care of. Kenny and Hannah-Louise (why the hell would you give your kid a hyphenated name?) had left town for the 'city' life. During the time Kenny was employed at the mill he made a good salary and had a very good profit sharing program.

When the dipshit divorced me he was working as a warehouse manager making good money, the judge awarded the maximum child support and maintenance our state law would allow. Telling Kenny, "I don't know how you can walk away from three daughters and a wife of 16 years, but you're damned sure going to pay for it."

And he did, not only was I given half of his profit sharing, I was awarded half the value of the assets we had acquired after marriage, which was everything. I had enough maintenance to see us through and with the child support for the girls we had plenty. Not being one to sit and shirk I found work at, of all places, the feed mill, working with the daughter of the owner in the office. Janet and I had a very interesting relationship. We had known each other since kindergarten, (not my little Janet, the owner's daughter) she was my "town" friend and anytime I had a chance to stay over at her house I did. We did the normal girl/girl best friend stuff, we'd kissed each other before we'd ever kissed a boy.

We'd touched each other's bodies momentarily before any boy ever had, it was the end of our senior year that it went a step further, we'd both just turned 18. I was going with Ken and she was going with Lloyd, we were holding out as they say, determined not to lose our virginity before we married. I was staying overnight with Janet on a Friday after the four of us had been to a movie, we knew the other was being felt up when we parked but chose to be quiet and then tell the boys we needed to make curfew before we ended up with a hand in our panties.

As was usual I was sleeping in bed with her, we both had on pajamas with a buttoned top and bottoms with elastic at the waist. I was nearly asleep when I felt Janet moving, I knew she was getting herself off and wasn't sure what to do. She obviously knew I was awake as she whispered to me.

"Being with Lloyd makes me so damn horny, sometimes I just need to touch myself."

With her hand massaging her clit she leaned to me and kissed my lips, she knew I was a sucker for a good kiss as I melted. She slid her free hand inside the elastic of my jammies and onto my mound where she softly moved back and forth, then letting a finger slip between my legs, which I willingly opened. Her other hand left her panties and found my breasts as she continued to kiss me, turning to me she pulled her hand from my bottoms and began unbuttoning my top, in no time her hand was on my breast.

"Doesn't that feel good Carla? Doesn't it make your pussy tingle? I'm going to kiss and suck them."

As she said that I whimpered and tried to push her away, she nuzzled my neck and whispered into my ear.

"Shh, shh, shh, it'll be okay, you'll love the feeling. Relax Carla, let me make you feel good in your pussy."

Next thing I knew her lips were around my nipple, sucking, me pushing my tit into her, aching for more as I held her face to my chest. She was gently tweaking and squeezing the other nipple making it stand out, screaming to be sucked just as the other was.

Janet lifted her face and told me to take my bottoms off, I began to resist until she put her mouth on the other nipple and pushed her hand under my pajama bottoms inside my panties. As her fingers went into my bush I groaned and lifted my hips off the mattress, she took advantage of that and pushed my bottoms down along with my panties. She had thrown the covers off and was looking at the furry triangle above my wet glistening pussy. I couldn't seem to catch my breath or take control of my body.

Janet leaned forward sliding a finger into me, stopping when she met resistance, then lay next to me fingering me softly. Kissing me she whispered she was going to take me over the top, I had no idea what that meant but I knew inside I was going to let her do whatever she wanted. She was on hands and knees and then between my legs, before I figured out what was happening her mouth had encompassed my vulva, sucking lightly, licking, her tongue penetrating my labia, then moving until it hit my love button.

Once again, I groaned and pushed upward into her where she took me to paradise. I had no idea I was a gusher before that night, when she was done with me her face was covered in my cum. As she kissed me I tasted pussy for the first time, but not the last. I asked if she wanted me to do the same to her, she smiled and nodded yes, instead of laying down she straddled my body putting her knees above my shoulders and her delicate little brown haired pussy directly on my mouth.

I figured it out very quickly, bringing her to an orgasm so strong she had to cover her face with a pillow, grinding back and forth across my mouth, shuddering, her stomach convulsing, then she fell forward gripping the headboard, exhausted. Within seconds she raised up enough for me to scoot out from beneath, I wanted to kiss her, she was too far gone to hardly move. As I put my panties back on I thought the hell with the bottoms, or the top for that matter and I began unbuttoning her top, exposing her larger than me tits, pinching the nipples as she had done to me.

She raised onto her haunches as I slipped the top off, she put her panties back on, we laid down and cuddled while she caught her breath. My voice broke the silence.

"Where did you learn to do that? I was afraid at first, but you're my closest friend and I knew you wouldn't hurt me. It was wonderful, I've gotten off on my fingers, but never like this."

"Mrs. Dobbins, the gym teacher started teaching me a week after my 18th, she's been doing it at least once a week since. She never wants me to lick her, just suck her tits and finger her, but she insists on licking me, and I let her with joy. We can't let the boys do anything like this or fuck us, so we may as well take care of each other until we're married."

We had three more nights like the first before my wedding and never again, no mention of those nights, no latent desire to do it again. No looking at one another and longing, I know it sounds weird to some, but in our eyes, we were best friends doing what it took to keep our virginity intact until our wedding night.

And here I was, working ten feet away from the girl who taught me what it meant to cum from cunnilingus, but you would never have suspected it, we were no longer high school girls, we were grown and we were still best friends. Working in the office was a real eye opener for me. It was quite interesting as the many housewives who walked through those doors to order feed or pay their bills found out who I was, or should I say, had been. As soon as the divorce was final, I changed back to my maiden name. I began to suspect Kenny had been screwing more than just the young girls, there was more than one housewife who flushed red when I waited on her.

In a conversation Janet asked if I'd ever tried a little on the side after marriage, male or female, I assured her I had not and asked if she did. She indicated there was one guy who came through town once a year that she readily dropped her panties for every time he showed up. He'd been there just a month ago and I found it strange that Janet had to work late that night, he appeared to be late 40's and was handsome as hell. It was easy to see why she'd fallen for him so many years ago. When I asked if he was the only one, she nodded yes and sighed.

Kenny and I had purchased a small place in town which he gladly turned over to me so he wouldn't be stuck for half the costs until it could be sold, which I now wouldn't need to do. It was nothing fancy, a simple four bedroom two and a half bath when we bought it. Through the years we had added a walk-in shower to the master bath and remodeled the kitchen from the studs out. The girls each had a room and I had the master at the other end of the house. I liked the split bedroom layout, I tend to get loud and talk very dirty when I'm in the throes of passion, with fifty feet between our bedroom and theirs it removed the anxiety of being overheard.

That was all water under the bridge now, here I was at the yearly soiree watching with amazement at the shenanigans people now call a party. It was more like who can screw who's husband or wife in the bushes or in one of the bathrooms inside. The only one I could see not participating in one fashion or another, even if some were only flirting excessively, was Frank Carter who was mixing drinks and making sure the kegs were kept in ice, and me.

The girls had found friends their ages and were milling about doing what young girls do, gossiping, pointing, giggling. A few of the older girls were venturing into a dark corner with a boy for what I assumed was some kissing and a feel or two. Always emerging with their hair a mess and trying to straighten their clothes, Taylor Millston had been in such a hurry she buttoned her blouse wrong and couldn't figure out why everyone was staring, that is until her mother took her aside. As much as one might like to think life has advanced, judging by the behavior of teens, maybe it hasn't, maybe it's just a newer version of what happened with teens twenty years ago.

I walked over to Frank and asked if he had the makings of an Arnold Palmer. He smiled and said he did, whipping one up for me on the spot. I asked if he'd had a chance to eat at all in the flurry of things, he hadn't, so I offered to get him something and bring it back.

"How bout one of those sweet Italian sausages with that warmed onion/sweet pepper relish and a few chips?"

"You got it cowboy, be right back."

If ever I'd witnessed an enigma, something that leaves you wondering and completely unexplainable, it was his situation. Here's a guy who is drop dead handsome, to the degree he modeled for Sears and Penney's mailers while he was in college. Returned home with a degree in Criminal Justice, got hired by the local 12 man police department, married Becky Thorsen, one of the most sought after girls in high school, who also worked at the police department. He made the rank of sergeant quickly, they were ready to start a family and BAM ... she dumps him for a young lieutenant from the city. Talk about fucked up.

Allow me to reiterate that Frank is still as strikingly handsome as he ever was, he's not a gym rat, but his own personal regimen keeps him fit as a fiddle. At 6' his soft blonde/brown hair, that fine body along with his good looks makes him one of the most desired men in Clark County. In high school he was a football star and state champ two years in a row wrestling at 138, I don't know if that weight class exists anymore, I'd heard they changed them all around. He'd been offered a full ride at two four year schools, but turned them down, his heart was set on law enforcement.

He bought the place at the end of our road shortly after Ken and I split. I would see him running and doing his workout three or four times a week, the time of day depended on which shift he worked. He wasn't into the running shorts and muscle shirt scene, he wore cut off jeans or loose baggy shorts and a tee, if it rained, he might toss a shirt over the tee. Always wore a hat and sunglasses when he ran. Whether the sun was out or not.

I'd waved to him several times and yelled hi once or twice, not much contact beyond that, it was as though he was purposely avoiding me, and I wondered if it had anything to do with our divorces. He was still cute as hell and still made my heart skip a beat like it did from time to time back in school. He's human so I'm sure there are flaws in his character somewhere, like the rest of us, but to my knowledge he's not a closet something or a wife beater. Geez, he could park his shoes under my bed, handcuff me to the headboard and ravage my body anytime he'd like.