Chapter 3

My mom was correct. All I had to do was ride that guy’s knee and be nice to him, let him snap some pictures of my admittedly small boobs. It was money that could be put toward advancing Girl Scouts, but it was still humiliating.

I blushed, as I buttoned up my shirt and returned to dealing with customers – most of whom had just witnessed me sitting on “Santa’s Lap”. Mom saw no big deal with any of that because from her perspective girls don’t need modesty, and he wasn’t being sexual. His touch was like touching my elbow – I wasn’t even developed enough to warrant his interest.

“A little embarrassment never hurt anyone, dear,” she smiled. It was a slogan I’ve heard all of my life.

Another old man ambled up to the booth. I could tell from how he approached that he was interested in my sister and not me. He made a beeline for Alex and drank in her body. “Well, now, what’s a pretty thing like you doing out here? You look sweet enough to eat without all these cookies.”

Alex shifted but kept her polite smile. “Good afternoon, sir. Can I help you pick something?”

“Oh, I’m sure you could help me with a lot of things,” he said, leaning on the table. “But let’s start with cookies. What’s your favorite? Wait, no, let me guess ... Samoas, right? Sweet and sticky?”

“Yes, sir,” Alex answered softly. “I like Samoas.”

Our job isn’t to talk dirty back to the customers, but when a guy starts talking like this, we both know he’s not really interested in those kinds of cookies—he wants ours.

“Figures,” he said, picking up a box. “A sweet girl like you probably has a sweet tooth. You ever let a boyfriend feed you a cookie while you jerk him off? Bet you’ve had plenty of boyfriends.”

Alex flushed, glancing down. “I’ve had a few boyfriends but not many cookies, Sir.”

More than a few! My so-called “shy” sister loves sex and has been around the block more times than I have.

“How many’s a few? Come on, sweetheart, don’t be shy. How many guys have you been with?”

My sister was already blushing and looking awkward. That was a pretty forward question just to come right out and ask. I was dealing with a woman around his age who wanted a few boxes of Caramel cookies, so I couldn’t intervene. I wouldn’t have known what to say anyway.

“What’s going on here?” my mom interjected. We were busy at the booth but all standing close enough to one another that there was no private conversation. The old man instantly shrank and probably felt like my mom was going to chastise him for being so forward. “Is Alex giving you a hard time, sir?”

“You might say she is making me hard, yes,” he grinned. “We were just having a pleasant conversation while I pick out some cookies.”

“Alex, the nice gentleman is considerate enough to ask you some questions. I expect you to be honest and forthright. What are the six values of a Girl Scout?”

“Um, honesty, respect, caring, responsibility, resourcefulness, and concern for others, Ma’am,” my sister repeated the values that we’ve been taught since before we ever became Brownie Scouts.

“Are you being honest, respectful, considerate, and showing concern for others right now?”

“No, Ma’am,” Alex put her finger in her mouth. She is a smart girl, and she’s not infantile; she just has an oral fixation, and when she’s nervous, it’s a habit.

“What did he ask you?”

The old man was about to deny it, but he doesn’t know my mom cares more about honesty than she does our pride or privacy. “Um, he asked if I ever let a boyfriend feed me cookies and if I had many boyfriends?”

“I was just making conversation,” the old man backpedaled.

“That’s fine. I don’t see what the big deal is, Alex. Answer his question,” Mom placed her hands on her hips stubbornly.

“Um, just three boyfriends, maybe. I seldom ever date boys more than once, and no, I’ve never had anyone feed me these cookies. I am not allowed to eat them.”

“What if I buy her a box, Mom?” the old man asked politely.

“That would be really nice of you! But I don’t like to spoil my girls. Do you mind if I limit how many she can have each day?” Mom asked. “Sir, may I ask your name?”

“It’s Don,” he was happy to offer it. “Sure, I wouldn’t want to interfere with how you raise your daughter, Ma’am! You seem to be doing a great job.”

“You can call me Julie and thank you! I am trying, but these two knuckleheads make it hard sometimes. What do you tell the nice gentleman, Alex? And you can have one box of Lemon-Ups because they are the least expensive, and we have a hard time selling those.”

“Thank you, Don. That was very thoughtful of you!” Alex was genuinely excited. I was jealous. I’ve been selling these cookies for most of my life, and I’ve never tried any of them. Mom told him she’d be right there if he needed her and politely excused herself to help me with my sale.

“Is your mom very strict?” Don asked.

“Yes, kind of,” Alex replied.

“She obviously loves you a lot to spend so much effort on you,” Don gave her a warm smile.

“Yes, I love her too. What else can I get you?” she asked.

The man picked out three boxes of a variety of cookies, made my sister add it up, and then decided to change his mind. That can be frustrating because we were taught to add up every sale three times before we quote the customer. It can also be time-consuming, but Don seemed to have all day. While my sister mumble-counted with her mouth open, he stared at her cleavage popping out of the tunic.

“That’s eighteen dollars, sir!”

“Eighteen, huh? Well, what about if I swap out the Thin Mints for two Caramel?” he asked.

My sister dutifully started over, adding up the price, and it went on like that for a few minutes. I lost track because I was busy with a customer of my own.

“So, you had three boyfriends, huh? Have you gone all the way with any?”

“Oh yes,” Alex replied without hesitation.

“You like sex, huh?”

“I do,” Alex blushed, put her finger back in her mouth, and had to re-count the man’s latest choices because she lost track and got flustered.

He chuckled, leaning closer. “So, what gets you going? What makes you wet enough to let a guy have a chance?”

Alex froze, her mouth opening and closing as her blush deepened. All it took was one glance from Mom to know that she had to answer honestly.

Alex’s voice wavered as she finally spoke. “A thumb in my butt, or play with my nipples,” she admitted. “Those will usually turn me on.”

The man barked a laugh. “You like to do that to yourself or when a guy does it to you?”

“It doesn’t matter who does it,” Alex admitted. “It could be me, a girl, a guy, I guess.”

“What about this pretty girl next to you? Have you ever made out with her?”

“Not really. That’s my sister Hailey.”

I waved politely at him. There was no way to hold a genuinely private conversation at the cookie table. My mom and I could hear every word that was spoken, and so could the customers that perused the table. The man didn’t seem to have a filter, though—because he continued with his lascivious questions.

“I’ve heard of some girls who kiss their sisters,” he grinned wickedly.

“I’ve kissed my sister plenty of times. I haven’t, uh ... made out with her. I guess there is a difference?”

“What’s the difference?” he asked.

“Making out is when you get on the couch and use your fingers to play with each other and grind and do heavy kissing, isn’t it?” Alex asked awkwardly.

Mom didn’t put a stop to the questions, even though they were deeply personal. We rarely had anyone ask us questions like this, and usually, they’d stop after one or two. I felt like this guy was interviewing my sister. He changed his order again and watched her count up the price of each box before changing his mind once more.

“Do you like going down on guys or girls better?”

“Guys,” Alex said without a second thought. Mom didn’t seem surprised or shocked by that. I wasn’t surprised because I knew my sister was orally fixated, and that’s why she kept sucking her finger while she was nervously answering his dirty questions.

“I’ll bet you’re good at it, too. You swallow, or are you a spitter?”

“I swallow,” Alex whispered as her face turned beet red. She’d have had no problem talking to me about it. This was a total stranger, older than our father, and he was asking her in front of my mother.

My family made jokes about sexual things, but we’d never been asked if we swallowed cum before.

It was kind of fun to watch my sister squirm a little. I was thankful I wasn’t being put on the spot. I also knew it was futile for my sister to think somehow she could whisper and our mom wouldn’t hear the question. Alex was lucky that no other customers were standing nearby because she still had to answer.

“Alex, you’re not answering a question about national security. Speak up so everyone can hear you. You were obviously proud of how you like to go down on boys and suck their dicks. Are you a spitter or a swallower?”

Alex’s cheeks burned a deep red as she stammered. “I—I said I swallow, Ma’am.”

Mom crossed her arms. “Do you think Don is asking a question that’s too personal or private?”

“A little,” my sister admitted.

“Alex Marie Tucker! Do you think that you need secrets? You’ve already admitted to him you like sucking cocks!” Mom raised her voice slightly. She never did that with men – only other women and usually just us. “Remind me about the Girl Scout values, was it honesty or secrecy?”

“Honesty, Ma’am,” my sister blushed. Don seemed mildly amused that my sister was being put on the spot and not at all concerned that Alex was getting dressed down. I dealt with a customer who walked up while all of this was going on – hopefully, he wouldn’t freak out and run off.

“Then what’s the problem?” Mom continued, her voice calm but firm. “You’re not saying anything that goes against the truth, and you’re not breaking any rules. If I catch you whispering, I’ll assume you are trying to tell him something that you think I shouldn’t know and talking behind my back. How do you think that’s going to go for you?”

Mom had a point there. I hadn’t thought about it like that. Whispering was somewhat pointless at the booth, with us all being so close to one another.

“Not well, Ma’am,” Alex said.

Mom turned to Don, offering a polite smile. “Thank you for your patience. Sometimes, my girls need a little reminder about what’s expected of them. The least expensive box of cookies that you choose today is on the house. How is that?””

“Oh goodie,” the old man was giddy. He was already do change his order again.

“Did you hear my daughter’s answer to your question, Don?” she asked.

“Not particularly, I am a little HARD ... of hearing,” the older man grinned over his own dirty joke.

“Alex, repeat his question and what the answer was so that this man can hear it,” Mom insisted.

“Don asked me if I liked going down on girls or guys better, and I said guys, and then he asked if I spat or swallowed, Ma’am. I told him that I swallowed.”

“You disgusting little tramp,” Mom frowned and shook her head. She apologized to Don and the man I was finishing up with, who had just purchased a box of Thin Mints. “Address your elder as Sir or call him Mister and his last name– not by his first name. You aren’t peers.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” my sister admitted. She asked Don if he minded giving her his last name if he had more questions for her.

Don grinned, clearly enjoying the situation. “Last name’s Prichard, but you can just keep calling me Don, sweetheart. I like how it rolls off your tongue.” He glanced at Mom with a wink. “Don’t think she minds much either, do you, Mrs. Tucker?”

Mom remained bright and cheerful when talking to Don, even though she was being so strict with my sister. “Mr. Prichard, if you’d like to be addressed as Don, that’s your choice, but I’ll insist Alex ask your preference properly. She’s not your equal, and it’s not her place to assume.”

Don gave a grin. “Fair enough. Don’s fine by me. No need for all that formality.”

Mom turned her gaze to Alex. “You’ll call him Don because that’s what he prefers. And remember, it’s a courtesy extended to you, not a right you’ve earned. Show him the respect his age and position deserve. He’s a customer, and he’s shown you the courtesy of asking about you – the least you can do is be fully honest and respectful.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Alex said quickly, glancing up at Don with a shy smile.

Mom’s attention shifted back to Don. “I appreciate you voluntarily spending time with my daughter. I am sure you have better things to do than delve into what a young bimbo likes to do under the covers when she has more freedom than she does good sense, Mr. Prichard.”

Don said that he should probably make up his mind on the cookies he wants and not be so nosy. He’d have probably left right after he said that if my Mom hadn’t continued to talk to him.

Mom’s attention shifted back to Don. “It’s not every day someone takes the time to ask her questions that make her think before she speaks. Feel free to ask anything you like—about Alex or even about Hailey or myself,” Mom said with a measured smile. “It’s a valuable learning experience for her, and I’m grateful you’re helping her reflect on what she does, why she does it, and how it looks to others.”

“I am just a bored old man with a little time on my hands,” Don perked up at her words. “I should probably have just made up my mind what cookies I wanted and be on my way, but since you are offering, then I may just do that.”

“That’s up to you, Mr. Prichard. We are here all day anyway, and the girls have nothing better they could be doing than learn a lesson from a kind gentleman like yourself,” Mom assured him politely and sweetly – like he was doing us a favor and not just trying to hear my sister talk about dirty stuff she enjoyed doing.

“Really?” Don brightened like my mother had just made his day. “I wouldn’t want to waste the opportunity. I am curious, Mrs. Tucker. How exactly are my questions teaching your daughter a lesson?”

Mom patiently explained, “You’re showing Alex, and by extension, my nosy daughter Hailey, who has been eavesdropping on your conversation, what it means to be considerate when someone takes an interest in her, and you’re giving her an opportunity to learn honesty even when a subject makes you uncomfortable.”

I blushed a little – Mom was okay with other people overhearing our conversations, but she frowned at me when she called me out for eavesdropping. There was no way that I could ignore the conversation.

“Too often, girls her age think they can hide behind modesty and secrets. But I’ve always taught my daughters that if they’re ashamed to admit something, they shouldn’t be doing it in the first place. Don’t you agree, Mr. Prichard?”

Don gave a slight nod, his grin still fixed in place. “I suppose that’s fair. Honesty is a good quality to instill.”

Mom smiled warmly but didn’t let up. “Exactly. Alex needs to understand that she doesn’t deserve privacy for things she’s proud to do. I’ve always told my girls that if they’d be embarrassed to tell a stranger about their choices, they shouldn’t be making them. And frankly, girls don’t need modesty. Secrets only encourage them to believe they’re entitled to privacy or discretion, and that’s not how they’ll learn to be honest with themselves or others.”

Alex and I knew this was my mother’s belief, and we’d been raised to believe it as well. We didn’t just pay it lip service – we still believe it. It was the traditional way that girls had been raised for years.

“She’s also learning to stay composed and gracious, even when embarrassed by admitting her lusty desires and the naughty things she does when she is allowed more freedom than she has good sense.”

My sister blushed and looked down at her feet. I handled a quick sale of a single box of cookies.

“Humiliation is far better teacher and kinder than flipping her over my knee and spanking that fat bottom of hers.” Mom gestured to Alex. Don smiled profusely at the mention of spanking.