This story is about an amazing woman who loved being the slut. You wouldn't know it to look at her, normally dressed proper with a little sex appeal, but away from prying eyes she turns into a full-on slut that will take your breath away. This is her story and mine on how it all came to be.
How I Married a Happy Slut
Part One
The place and the people
(Not much sex in this part just laying the groundwork: The people and places for readers to understand the story)
Let me start by giving you all the pertinent information you will need to follow this story. This occurred in a town like thousands of others, and anyone raised in the east or Midwest of this country would recognize this place, just a town so small we couldn't afford a traffic light if we had enough traffic to warrant one. The center of town, well a gas station, a hardware store, a small supermarket, a pharmacy that was also the local lunch counter, a fire station and police station combined in the town municipal building, and of course a train station...wooden building and loading ramps just like you see in the movies. One police car and one policeman, a drabby looking bank, and the town mortician and doctor ran their business's out of the front of their three-story homes. What else do you need to have a town? (Oh yes, we had two bars) There was another town a couple miles down the road if you wanted things like a school or movie theater, and all you had to do was walk the tracks to get there.
We would have been the area's population center if you counted the cows and horses and let's not even get started on the amount of corn. The one thing small agricultural towns grow are naturally beautiful girls, and I don't mean cute, I mean fucking beautiful. When you hear about the "Girl Next Door" or "Farm Girls", it's all true. They wore jeans and flannel 95% of the time, but for church and maybe a school dance you could see them in a dress. These girls worked at home just like the boys did and not a fat one in the bunch, perfectly toned bodies that come from honest work.
Now every small town has a business that does something you would never think about at first. The most popular ones are a terry mill or knitting mill, but there are many others as well. Back before shipping items was an easy thing, some things were made and packaged locally. We had three breweries in our local area, a place that made fish sticks, a well-known brand mustard plant, and our town had a place that made the rubber soles for shoes and sneakers. It was far outside of town due to the smell when they cleaned the machinery, but for country people it wasn't too far of a walk. And that is where this story takes place, in an old dirty rubber sole making plant.
Of course, our small town doesn't have the population to staff a working factory with most of them being farmers, so people from six towns around worked there, and that's where you went for a summer job if you didn't want farm work. I had spent a few summers being a laborer there and wasn't a stranger to the place. Most of my schoolmates left school after the eighth grade to join their fathers on the farm, and I stayed in school until the end of tenth grade. Our school offered GED's to everybody that left before graduation, and I got mine before leaving.
Now before you get the idea this is a town of stupid people, let me relieve you of that thought. These people are super intelligent when it comes down to it. These people deal with a wide variety of problems that would stump a city boy every day of their lives. They build what they need, they come up with unique ways of repairing things to use them long beyond the normal usable life, and we weren't isolated. Just 40 miles from Philadelphia, just an hour outside of NYC, and 40 minutes from the Amish area, we had it all. We would skip school and go to Broad St and RT. 1 in Philly, just hoping to get picked from the crowd of kids that assemble every morning. It was Joe Frazier's gym and if he picked you, you were in for a hard day of work, but the lessons you could learn down there plus you just spent the day with Joe, and maybe he remembered your name.
Or, if you saved your money, you could hop a bus to Manhattan and see a Broadway show, or just learn about life below 50
th
street. We had it all and there was nobody to stop us from sampling the world at our fingertips. And if you think we were naΓ―ve, well let me tell you. Each one of us learned the full birds and bees' story in those cornfields at the hands of an older girl when we were 12 or 13, and yet, no unwanted pregnancies in our town. Why you may ask...farm girls know how to count and how to say no. But if you were nice and respectful to a girl, she'd let you know when and you wouldn't be disappointed.
Sex wasn't something that was hidden, I mean how could you hide it when you walk through town and see something trying to have sex with something else, and not always the combination you would think of. But any young girl seeing a farm animal in a difficult birth learns early on not to get pregnant indiscriminately. They also are not afraid to experiment as sex isn't a taboo subject, and they enjoy it as much as us guys do. And at the same time, it was not unusual for teenagers to strip and go swimming on a hot afternoon or girls to act casual about partial nakedness in public, let's face it...sometimes you get things on your clothes that you don't like, and you just strip them off and get changed no matter who was watching.
Now let me tell you something all country girls know, and that's how to catch the eye of a man with clothes, walk, smile, and body movements. Every cowgirl outfit with skirt is just short enough to be able to see the front of her thigh when she sits, that spot on the back of the thigh where the muscle and tendon attach around three inches above the knee, the way it hangs off her hips, and the way it moves when she does, and that's not even to mention the way they can sport a pair of tight blue jeans. They are keenly aware you're looking at them especially when you think they are not. They learn young and by the time you meet them, they have had years honing their abilities.
Alright then, now you know the place and the culture and it's time to meet the people. This woman's name is Rhonda, but everyone called her Roni, and she is beautiful in every way you can measure. She works as the right hand of the owner of the shoe factory and spends days between the office and out in the floor running the place, and just oozes sex appeal. I was seventeen and she was twenty and I couldn't keep my eyes off her, and she well knew it. Like most young women in a town like this she enjoyed teasing teenage guys to see how far she could go before embarrassing them and she was very good at that.
But it wasn't just me, she would smile and engage in innuendo with a group of twenty something guys that worked at the plant also. The way she dressed, the way she walked, even the way she would do her work was sexually enticing to me and I vowed I was going to get my chance with her. She would position herself so I could see down her open blouse when showing me paperwork, or purposely stand too close when trying to read a schedule over my shoulder and stuff like that, just to see how I would react. I was seventeen, how do you think I reacted, it enamored me even more. I knew nothing about her private life and was unaware at the time that I was playing with white hot fire.
I got very friendly with her, and she became more flirtatious with me to the point of me elevating the bar each time we interacted, and she responded well flashing me and making lewd comments, so I decided to take my shot. I knew full well from nature that you don't need to be the biggest cock bird in the yard, most times all you need is to act the part so that's what I did.
"Roni, what do you have planned this weekend?"
"Not anything specific Jack, what's on your mind?"
"Well, now you're busy Saturday night so keep it open."
"Oh, just like that I'm busy on Saturday. Don't I get a say in this plan at all?"
"No, you're going out with me."
"Just like that, I'm going out with you. What if I need to wash my hair or go see a girlfriend?"
"Make sure you do all that Friday or Sunday. Saturday you'll be with me."
"And what would we be doing on Saturday?"
"You just let me worry about that, just make yourself available."
"Well big man, what would you have me wear for this get together."
"I trust you can put together and outfit that I would like."
"And if I don't want to go out on Saturday, what then?"
I mustered all the bravado I could and looked her straight in the eyes.
"That is why I didn't ask you girl. Just do as I told you and you'll have a good time."