Chapter 5

As soon as Hanson Allen had watched Billie-Ann's slim little bottom disappear through the door and into her house, he wheeled the old pickup around and drove like crazy, cursing himself the whole time. He went on past his father's house and took the turnoff which wound five miles away from town toward the rich delta land of the river.

"Damned white chick," he swore aloud, letting the truck go fast enough to kick up a long rooster tail of dust behind him. He knew how crazy it was to be talking to a white girl around these parts the way he'd talked to Billie-Ann Wheeler. Giving her a ride was bad enough, but then he had to go shooting off his mouth, telling her how pretty she looked and asking her to meet him down by Basset's Pond.

Hanson rubbed his hand over his forehead and wiped the sweat on the leg of his jeans. He didn't really give all that much of a damn about white chicks; it was just that this one seemed to remind him again of... No, that couldn't be his excuse any more. Billie-Ann Wheeler didn't look or talk anything like Pamela Whittier from Boston, Mass. Billie was prettier in her own innocent kind of way.

"Damn it to hell," Hanson growled, remembering her tan, coltish legs, sun-browned almost as dark as Hanson's own skin. He smiled. At least he preferred his white girls tanned.

He looked out the window at a low-flying crop duster, but Billie-Ann's pert profile drifted into his thoughts again: her cute upturned nose, almost Negroid in its shortness. And the freckles on her sunburned forehead. That wispy brown hair... Christ! how he wanted to run his fingers through it.

"And damn my black hide if she wasn't peeking at my cock!" He laughed to hear the words echo in the truck cab. Hanson knew he was good-looking. Many other girls, white and black, had chased him even begged to share his bed.

"Charisma," Hanson said, pronouncing each syllable carefully. Then he was off and laughing again. Before he'd gone another mile, though, Billie's image was back to taunt him and he decided it would be nice to undress her in his mind. He imagined her with a hip cocked and a pretty leg extended while slowly he undid her blouse and pulled it back over her thin shoulders. Hanson wasn't sure what Billie's breasts really looked like, but he thought they must be lovely. Probably about one-fourth the size of Pamela's... hardly bigger than a mouthful. He daydreamed his mouth down to one of Billie-Ann's titties and sucked the luscious-looking little nipple between his teeth. Billie clutched his head in both hands and pressed her face against the million tight curls of his hair. He licked his way down her body and kissed her navel, marveling at the shallowness of it on her flat tummy. Hanson knew he was right about that, because Billie's T-shirt had hiked up once while she was in the truck and he'd had a good look. Now he was magically skimming her jean shorts down over narrow adolescent hips. Her mound would be almost hairless, he thought. Just two pretty little plump lips protecting the moistness inside. Hanson pushed the fantasies away, too excited by them to stretch the vision out any longer.

A stumbling cow, udder almost dragging the ground, stepped in front of the truck some twenty yards away and Hanson hit the brakes and pulled the wheel hard. The skidding sound of the pickup shocked the dumb animal out of her cud-chewing trance and she bolted back toward the ditch. The truck kicked gravel and slid to a stop, missing the cow by only a foot or two.

Hanson sat there for a while as the insects clicked and buzzed in the weeds near the roadside. He felt foolish for letting himself get so carried away over a white girl who was really no more than a child. The chances were small that he'd ever get close enough to so much as even kiss Billie-Ann Wheeler, much less take her clothes off. Billie was only thirteen. A child. And a not very knowledgeable one at that. No telling what she'd talk around if Hanson so much as patted her pretty little bottom with his hand. And like his daddy had said, that added up to trouble. Besides, there would be the problem of her boyishly narrow hips. If by some chance he did seduce her, his cock would probably split her in two like a ripe melon. Yeah, he had to forget about something so silly as having Billie-Ann's body to enjoy. He had to concentrate on more realistic possibilities. Hanson crammed the truck into gear and started out again, heading toward Elsie Shelton's, where he'd been going before the cow had stopped him short.

The Sheltons lived in a one-time squatter's shack on twenty acres of land bordering the river. Ever since Hanson could remember, a black man could go to that place whenever he needed a little something he couldn't get somewhere else. Elsie Shelton was the mother of the brood and kept track of how much beer to buy before a big weekend and how long the boys could stay alone in a back room with any particular daughter. Daughters were all Elsie Shelton had... seven of them to be exact, and nobody could remember that there'd ever been a man around the place.

When he bounced into the front yard, Hanson saw Elsie herself leaning her bulk in the shady doorway of the paintless frame house. A rubber-tire swing swayed on its rope under a big cottonwood, but there didn't seem to be anyone else around.

"Why, Hanson," Elsie said, slapping her big hands together as if she were singing at church. "I knew you the minute I saw that truck... God, ain't you growed!"

"Howya doin' Elsie?" Hanson put his arm around her fat shoulders and gave her a hug. He'd had lots of crazy times at the Shelton place. More good ones than bad.

"You get your sweet brown ass inside here where its cool, and have a bottle of beer. It's on the house.

They walked together into the big front room. Hanson noticed that Elsie had moved a table or two around and painted the walls, but other than that, nothing had changed much. While she was fishing a couple of beers out of the cooler, she pushed her cotton dress up with the other hand and scratched a massive thigh.

"I been wonderin' what happened with you," Elsie went on. "Thought maybe New York went and swollered you up." She turned, grinning her big teeth at him while she popped the caps off with a rusty opener and shoved a bottle across to him. Then she collapsed heavily into a chair and put her elbows on the table. "Now what I want to know... is you smarter than when you left?"

Hanson laughed and slugged some of the beer. "A little maybe," he said. "At least I know what a smart person's supposed to act like."

Both of them laughed.

Elsie rocked back and forth, shaking her big head slowly from side to side. A little droplet of sweat hung on her nose for a minute, then fell onto her bosom. "I swear, Hanson, it's good to see ya again."

"How's Janice?" he asked, surprised at his own eagerness.

Elsie Shelton rocked back and forth again, her eyes narrowing down mischievously. "Always did take a likin' to Janice, didn't ya?" Her face grew serious. "I hate to say it, Hanson, but Janice is gone. She up and left for Memphis over a year ago." Elsie slugged her beer hard. When she put it back on the table only some foam was left. "I tried to get her to stay on, but she had big-city ideas... wanted to meet some fella up there." Elsie put her palms down on the table and looked ceilingward. "Shitfire, I know what happened! She's out on the streets with one pair of rundown shoes and two pair of underwear while that fella is shootin' pool and playin' the horses."

Hanson saw that talking about Janice was depressing Mrs. Shelton, so he changed the subject. "Well, thank Jesus you got more than one daughter, Elsie."

The big woman's face lit up with a smile again. She laid a heavy hand on Hanson's knee and leaned close to whisper. "Lord, you oughta see Alicia now, Hanson... you wouldn't even know her; that's a fact."

Hanson wrinkled his brow and tried to remember. "You mean the little one? Hell, she was only nine or ten when I left to go to college. That couldn't make her more than..."

Elsie nodded. "She's fifteen come next Saturday. 'Member how you used to give her piggyback rides all the way to the river and back? God, she just worshipped you."

Hanson swallowed the rest of his beer and set the bottle on the table. "You me... you mean she's... around today?"

Elsie Shelton smiled. "Sure... if you want her, I can go fetch her from the garden. I put her out there in my bonnet to get them potato bugs all pulled off the plants."

"Fifteen years old," Hanson said under his breath. "Say, Elsie, I think I could go another beer."

"Why, bless your soul. Sure you need another beer after comin' all this way." Elsie fetched another cold bottle and shoved it into his hand before turning toward the back door. "You just rest here and drink that beer and I'll go fetch Alicia."

Hanson tried, but he couldn't possibly imagine how Alicia had turned out after five years. She'd been so skinny and childlike when he'd seen her last, always wearing a little print swimsuit-- usually without the top.

Alicia had always begged him to be her boy friend, even when the girl knew that he was coming all the way out there to the Shelton place to visit her older sisters. Hanson had kidded and tickled her but never really entertained the thought--much anyway- -that anything of a serious sexual nature could come about between himself and a ten-year-old girl.

"Hi'ya, Hanson."

He turned to see Alicia standing behind him... still skinny but taller and... different for sure. Her full lips had a more mature and sensual curve to them now and her short nose had lengthened some. Her breasts were just gentle curving swells on her narrow chest... only a little bigger than the ones Billie-Ann Wheeler sported. But it was Alicia's ass that really made him catch his breath. She had on a pair of skimpy short shorts and a bikini top. He could see the beautiful outward curve from her waist... the perfect unbroken line of her hips... not chunky or square at all. Then below, where her crotch filled out the skimpy material of the shorts... an ass built for fucking.

Hanson swallowed and smiled and couldn't help staring at her maturing thighs and plump mound again. She was a high school wet dream for sure. And the pigtails she was wearing seemed to add to the image rather than take away.

"You still wearing pigtails?" he laughed. "It'd be hard to remember you without 'em."

Alicia pouted just a little and reached a hand toward her hair. "You want I should undo 'em?"

"God, no!" Hanson said, putting out a hand. "Leave 'em just like that."

Alicia folded her arms and tilted her face at him. It looked sophisticated and little-girlish both at the same time. "Come on," she said, voice almost a whisper, hand stretched out to take his.

Hanson drained the rest of his beer and let her lead him into a darker, cooler part of the house. Alicia's hand was dry and tough from pulling weeds and he liked the way it rubbed against his own skin.

"Been a long time, Hanson," she cooed in her soft, crooning way. "'Member when you used to play with me like I'd never grow up?"

"I remember. Just never thought..."

Alicia closed a door behind them and made Hanson sit on the narrow bed next to her. The burlap curtain on the window made the small room seem like a cave.

"Well I thought about it," she whispered, looking hard into Hanson's eyes. Alicia's thin hand was suddenly kneading his thigh... slowly and professionally. Hanson wanted to ask her how many men had...

"Lay back now," she whispered.

Hanson did as Alicia said and immediately the thin, curvaceous little angel was moving onto his chest, pushing her legs between his and covering his chin and neck with hot, eager kisses.

"God... Alicia, you really have done some growing up."

Her lips slipped wetly over his then and Hanson sucked her pink little tongue deep the way she seemed to want him to do. The hard bone under her mound was pressed tight against the growing lump of his own trapped cock as Alicia rocked back and forth against it... massaging it full of blood.

"Hanson," Alicia sighed, "Oh, baby, you feel awful big down there." Her hands clutched and tickled and dove under his shirt, rubbing his tiny male nipples... touching the nape of his neck.

"How long you been doing this, Alicia?" Hanson asked her.

"You're the third guy," she said without breaking the rhythm of her lovely attack. "Mama only started me last month."

Hanson felt strangely misplaced. Coming from the East had been too sudden a change in life style to get used to so quickly. Back there it'd been Cadillacs and late-night neons and beaches and boats and high-fashion chicks. But outside the room he was in, Hanson could hear chickens clucking and scratching in the backyard. His nose was full of the heavy odor of magnolia blossoms... the salty country sweat of an adolescent black girl as she fumbled at the buttons of his Levi's, giggling and winking at him all the while.

"What's it like back East, honey?" Alicia cooed, as if she'd been reading his mind.

"It's... different."

He was on his back and Alicia had finally pulled all his clothes off, making a little O with her mouth as his rigid shaft slipped free. Then Hanson watched the lithe girl gracefully get rid of her own things. When she stood in front of him wearing only the bright ribbons at the ends of her braids, he knew he wanted her even more than he'd first thought he would.

Alicia hovered over him on hands and knees, looking skinny and desirable, her ass curving around behind her. It was so beautifully shaped that Hanson wondered if maybe that wonderful bottom was to serve no other purpose except love. Alicia slid cool palms down his chest and finally grasped his hips. There was just the trace of a mischievous smile on her young face, but Hanson thought he could also see uncertainty behind it.

"You the real first grown man," she said in a low voice. "I didn't know it would be so big!"

Alicia let her fingers trace the thickness and length of his cock, and Hanson enjoyed the expression on her face as she felt the heft of the meat.

"Who've you had before?" he asked.

She opened her eyes wide and looked up at the ceiling, remembering. "Couple of kids. Junior high boys. One was white." A smile spread over Alicia's brown face. "He darn near cried when I sucked him a little."

Hanson laughed with her, marveling at her new sophistication.

"He was a nice kind of white boy," Alicia went on. Then she looked again at Hanson's gently throbbing penis. "But nowhere near as big as that!"

He was growing more and more excited from watching Alicia pout and tease above him. His cock was fully engorged with blood, the glans tight and shiny brown and Hanson wanted very much to hide it out of sight in sweet Alicia's warm, wet flesh.

"What if you won't fit in me?" she whispered, bending close enough to let the turgid little nipples of her breasts rake across his chest.

"It'll fit, baby," he said back. "That sweet little ass of yours is ripe for some real meat." Hanson felt strange talking to Alicia like that when only a few years before he'd played with her like a kid sister. But nobody stayed the same, he told himself. Alicia sure hadn't.

Circling his strong arms around her back, Hanson forced her elbows to bend and she crumpled and collapsed against his chest. He felt the soft concave of her belly and the way her titties flattened out over his skin. His cockhead bobbed eagerly in the tight curly bush between her thighs, as if hunting for an entrance.

"I sure do want you, Alicia," he breathed into the tiny sworls of her brown ear. She was trembling against him ever so slightly, and the feeling of it made Hanson's blood boil even hotter with desire.

He caught her face between his hands and forced her lips down again and again, sucking in the lovely young spit as if he were dying of thirst.

"Goddamn, Hanson," Alicia finally got breath enough to say, "you sure do kiss fine." She took a catchy little gasp of air. "Mama tells me not to get too excited, 'cause I forget my business, but it's hard to keep from it when you kiss me like that."

Her pelvis was moving against him now and she arched her back and rode down on the whole length of his cock. As her steamy little slit parted with the pressure, Hanson felt his organ bathed with Alicia's hot juices. Rolling her bottom steadily, she worked all the way down to his ball sac, massaging the nymphescent oils into his skin. It was a fantastic way to get greased up, he thought, and when Alicia's firm little clitoris came in contact with his glans again, he felt his back go tight with desire.