The tall flowering trees bloomed early that year with their fragrance wafting into my quivering nostrils like thieves in the night looking for anything of value.

This was the day of my younger sister’s wedding.

My sister Hester was a plain little thing, but she had a fire burning between her thighs that the middle-aged professor, recently widowed, was unable to ignore, once offered. I knew with certainty that my not so innocent sister was no longer a virgin. I followed her wishes and kept her secret because she was a devious female with a plan for everything in life. In this case it was the baby growing in her private female parts although it was only a single month in existence to the best of my knowledge. I had marked the night of her fall from grace in my diary with no less than three stars to show my intense sense of emotion at her loose ways and pleasure seeking needs to scratch the itch between her softly rounded hips. She was famous for bouncing high off the mattress of her bed on the bottom of our two deck set of beds in our bedroom at the back of the house when she allowed some lucky lad into our bedroom with me as quiet as a church mouse in the top bunk.

My father was speaking now of her betrothal to the professor which he had blessed with sincere words thanking the generous man for asking for her hand in marriage. Of course, this was after I had declined the pleasure due to my dismay at his girth of belly and size of his tool. I felt certain this man would never satisfy my urging for sexual relations from various positions I had viewed in the Kama Sutra. I treasured that book with its illustrated positions that made my females tremble with emotion in the hopes to find a husband able to master a few favorites for normal nightly use.

I had carefully instructed my sister to crack open the small vial of chicken blood onto the sheets when the professor mounted her the first time. I also told her to make a lot of noise and beg for mercy as he entered her the first time. I did my best to impress on her the importance of convincing him by carefully pretending that it was all so new to her.

Even though I was a full three years older than my naughty younger sister, I was still technically a virgin. At least that was the case about my feminine folds, although I had been using my mouth for several years following the orders of my many male cousins ever since the first one showed me how to suck at an exceedingly early age. Now, I felt I was quite skilled with my busy little tongue not only on the hardened shaft, but also on the hanging sacs underneath and even wandering on special cases up into the dark recess of their cleft ass cheeks to tongue massage their nasty prostates requiring attention that most females considered too dirty to even discuss.

I had also been bounced on my uncle’s knees more than once and eventually their cocks managed to open my dirt hole to show me that my back door was a two way street. My waste materials came out sometimes with difficulty because my opening was so narrow. Now that my uncles were entering me back there with spirited enthusiasm, I had a much easier time of discharging my smelly waste, when I squatted down over the channel that led to the nearby river. We were lucky to have a residence with underground pipes that emptied out into the vast gulf that went down to the sea.

As you can see, I was quite familiar with male equipment despite my position in the ranks of the unbroken hymen herd of females. I had found that most of the girls in that category possessed filth only in their thoughts to confess when they felt the need to be shriven of their sins. The fact that they were of thought and not of deed was more important in the long run to any right thinking parent or prospective husband contemplating a union of marriage between a man and a woman in hopes of starting a new family in a time of great distress. Still, I would often hide under the blanket with the illustrated Kama Sutra and study the positions with great interest hoping that I would be able to practice them immediately after saying “I do” at my wedding ceremony.

My daydreams came close to an unfortunate end when I was accosted on the shortcut to my home by a pair of non-Hindu types with scruffy beards and long hard dicks just before twilight on a Friday night. They did not say a single word and it was obvious to me that they had done this thing many times successfully with many innocent and naïve young girls riding their bicycles home from school. One of them stepped out on the path and the other knocked me off the seat with a shove that was rude and demeaning of a well-dressed female.

I remember that my house was in my vision, but it might as well be a thousand kilometers away because I knew we were still out of earshot in this secluded place. The pair of them worked as a team and they had me trussed up with my arms behind my back and my legs tied to the back of my neck exposing all my feminine secrets to their evil looks dripping with the lust that filled their souls.

I did my best to scream when they started to finger my privates but all I could manage was a few frightened shouts begging them to desist for I was still a virgin.

With my legs up high like that, I was in a position I remembered from the Kama Sutra and I was able to view my own feminine folds with great field of vision and was horrified to see that I was already wet with anticipation at the destruction of my cumbersome hymen just below the surface. My poor bike was on its side in the dust of the path and the front wheel was still spinning slowly like a reminder of my faulty judgement in using the isolated path to save only a few moments of pedaling on the main road.