They were out at the old abandoned limestone quarry in Dwayne's pickup one afternoon the week before when the idea first came to her. The sun was hot, but a cool breeze came off the deep blue pool and they had spread a blanket on the scrub grass under the old sycamore. There were a couple subs and a six-pack in the ice-chest, and on a midweek afternoon, they had the quarry to themselves. The quiet stillness lay like a thick blanket over the place. Even the flies and the grasshoppers seemed to move slower. Dwayne, however, with a couple beers in him, had the usual thing on his mind.
"I won't put it in," he promised. "Come on, I just want to rub it up against you down there."
"You see this, Dwayne?" Kathy Bonney held up her hand. "This here silver ring means I made a promise before God. I promised my second virginity to the Lord, and the only man that gets to fool around down there will be my husband."
Dwayne's confounded expression evidenced his struggle to grasp the concept of "second virginity." However, his hesitation was only momentary. "Well, shucks, girl, let's get married!" he said, not deterred. " Right here before God I'll make my vow! We can take care of the legal stuff tomorrow."
Chiclet gave a sigh. It wasn't that she didn't care for Dwayne Studemeyer, though she wouldn't go so far as to say she loved him. And indeed, one day, if things worked out, she might even marry him.
When it came to romance, Dwayne didn't quite get it, but he wasn't a mean boy, if a bit dumb and reckless, and she wasn't immune to the same temptations of the flesh that he pursued with such single-mindedness. However, she had the discipline which he lacked. Chiclet was all too aware of her own limitations, and she didn't plan on spending the rest of her life in this small town, aspiring perhaps, like her Mom, to the position of assistant manager at the Walmart. Dwayne could be her passport out of here. Already scouts from three big schools had been nosing about. There was no denying his talent on the football field, and if he made it to the big time one day, he could be pulling in serious money.
That is, if he didn't blow out a knee first. She wasn't ready to hitch her pony to that particular wagon yet. She would keep him on a short leash and wait and see. And that's why she couldn't give in to his persistent demands. It wasn't the risk of pregnancy—in spite of her vow, she took precautions--it was a question of being in control. She knew how to manipulate boys, and giving them what they wanted just wasn't the way. You had to hold something back, and the more you guarded it, the more desperately they had to have it. So, his country charm and rangy body notwithstanding, she'd give him enough to keep him panting after her and not running after other girls, but there was just no way he was going to round the bases to home plate until the deal was sealed. And if that left her a bit frustrated too, it would just have to be tolerated.
Having sensed he'd about used up his limited verbal skills, Dwayne was now opting for the more direct approach. He threw one leg over hers, dry-humping her while his hand groped under bra and he nibbled and licked at her ear. "Come on, Chickie, you know you want it."
Pushing him off, she sat up. "Not now, Dwayne. It's too hot. I need to think."
Shrugging, he turned to pop open another beer. He went over to the truck to scrounge some empty beer cans from the trash that littered the cargo-bed and lined them up on a ledge across the way, then he they took the .22 down off the gun rack and started plinking at them, the shots reverberating flatly between the narrow walls of the quarry.
Chiclet's gaze remained on the truck. It had been on her mind. Last month, Dwayne had wrapped her VW bug around a tree. They'd been coming back from a party. He was drunk, but she was even more so, so she'd let him drive. Drunk or sober, Dwayne drove like he ran, with the same effortless grace and recklessness. That evening, with one hand on the wheel and the other trying to get down her pants, the recklessness had overbalanced the grace. They'd been knocked about a bit, but they'd been wearing their seatbelts. Beyond some bruises, they'd been O.K., however, the car was totaled.
Since then they'd had to depend on his battered 1991 Ford pickup. That was all right for runs out the the quarry, but the big winter dance was coming up, and Chiclet had her position as head cheerleader to consider. She shuddered as she pictured herself arriving at the dance in that sun-faded, fly-specked rattletrap. It was just unacceptable.
Then there was the issue of Piglet. She regarded Dwayne with narrowed eyes. There was no question the lissome freshman cheerleader was smitten with Dwayne; any fool could see that. Until lately, Dwayne had seemed to be blissfully unaware of her interest. But recently Chiclet thought she had detected a sidelong glance or two, and just yesterday he had, with studied casualness, brought up her in conversation. "How's she working out, that new girl?" That was enough of a red flag for her to know she had to do something immediately to nip this in the bud. She wasn't about to lose her ticket out of town to some gawky little wannabe.
And that was when it came to her, how to kill two birds with one stone. She had to grin at her own deviousness.
"Dwayne?" Standing up, she waited till she had his full attention before stretching languorously. "Are you ready for inspection, soldier?"
He hurried over and came to attention, grounding the butt of the .22. "Yes, sir. . .ma'am."
"Wipe that silly grin off your face, boy!" she growled, eyeing him up and down. Chiclet had a powerful voice, honed by years of cheerleading and she could modulate it with the ease of a concert pianist, from sweet soulful treble to hard brassy bass. When she was sweet, she could charm the birds out of the trees, but when she chose, her voice could cut like a knife and flay the hide off a bull. She smoothed his tee shirt over his shoulders and, continuing to look him right in the eye, her hands dropped lower to trace along his belt. "What's this in your pocket, soldier? Is this a weapon?"
"Sir, no sir! That's a MRE, sir. That's my little MRE!"
"It doesn't feel so little to me, soldier," she said, tracing the length of his erect cock where it pressed against his pants leg. "Are you sure this is a regulation MRE?"
"Sir, yes sir!"
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to inspect it." Unfastening his buckle, she whipped the belt roughly off his pants and looped it in her hand. She popped open his fly and unzipped him, pushing his jeans down past his knees. His cock sprang erect. They had played this game before and he was primed and ready. She caught it in the loop of the belt draping from her hand. "That is definitely not military issue," she said sternly. She walked around behind him. "Eyes front! Tuck your chin in! Square those shoulders!" She whacked him on the buttocks with the belt. "Straighten up, you spineless sniveling shit-for-brains."
She was wearing denim cutoffs and a cotton blouse, unbuttoned, with the tails tied around her midriff. Now she loosened the knot and he could feel the hardness of her nipples as she pressed up against his tee shirt. He reached back with his hands for her, but she slid quickly back out of reach and whacked him again with the belt. "Hands at your sides, soldier!"
She rubbed up against him again, and reaching around his waist, guided his cock through the loop of the belt, clinching up it behind his balls. Letting the loose end fall, she reached between his legs to draw it up tight along the crack of his ass. She gave an experimental tug on it, making his cock bob up and down. "Dwayne?" She whispered softly in his left ear. "Do you think I could borrow your Daddy's video camera?"
"No way he'd lend me that, Chiclet. After we backed over his boom box we borrowed, you know how he feels."
"Maybe you could just sort of borrow it without telling him?"
"Why, what do you want it for?"
She took the end of the belt and slid it up and down the crack of his ass. He started breathing deeper. Again, he reached back to paw at her.
She gave a sharp tug on the belt.
"Ow! Damn, Chickie, that hurt!"
"Keep your hands to yourself, soldier!" She growled in his right ear.
Her nipples brushed across his back. She said softly in his left ear, "It's for us, honey. It's a surprise. I think you'll like it."
Dwayne, who had a limited ability to focus on more than one thing at a time, was already thinking triple-X video. Still, he hesitated. "Jeez, I don't know. He is going up north to service some pump-jacks, and he'll be gone for a couple-three days, but he'd be awful riled up if he found out I took it."
She put her hand on his chest and slowly drew it down, tracing the contours of his rippled abdomen to where the root of his cock strained out of his bush. Lightly she drew a nail along the top of his erection and rubbed ever so softly on the tip. Involuntarily, he jerked his pelvis forward.
