Chapter 3

But just when I was getting ready to put Bill's thing back, he woke up and looked at me, there. He caught me when I was giving it one last little suck, and he was shocked.

"What the Hell you doing, girl?" Bill said. He'd surprised me, and I let go real quick, so I wasn't holding him in my mouth, nor even in my hand, no more.

His cock just laid there for a minute before Bill looked down at it (instead of at me), and then real quick he stuffed it back in his pants. His feet come down from that recliner and hit the floor and he was talking real loud when he said, "You took me in your mouth! What in the world were you doing? I ain't never done nothing like that! My generation, we didn't do stuff like that!"

Well, I knew that wasn't so. Bill's generation grew up in the 1960s, and, from what I heard, them hippies back then, they did a whole lot of sex stuff! And not just hippies, neither! But I guess maybe folks like Bill, here in New Concord. Maybe they were more old-fashioned.

Anyways, I just got out of the way of his recliner, there, when he was bangin' around, trying to sit up straight, and to zip up his pants, and I told him I didn't mean no harm in what I'd done.

"I never asked you to do nothin' like that!" Bill said. He still sounded mad, but it was like a kind-of pleading voice, he had.

"No, sir, you didn't," I told him. "I just -- I just wanted to do it."

"That don't make no sense! Why would you want t'do something nasty like that?... With me? I'm just a -- a old man!"

"I -- wanted to make you feel good," I said.

"Damn, girl! When I asked you, back then, could I maybe touch you -- just touch you!... You made me feel like a goddamned... criminal -- a pervert!... For askin' you such a thing! And now I wake up and you -- you got my -- Jesus Christ, girl!"

Well I felt real bad about how Bill was carrying on about what I'd done. And I couldn't find the words, y'know, to tell him what I'd been thinking, when I'd done it. So I just said "I'm sorry, Bill," and I went and got Timmy and carried him out to the car, him still asleep, and put him in the back seat.

And old Bill, he followed me out there, but didn't say nothing else. But when I started around to get in the car and go, he said to me, "You still coming back, next time?"

And I said "You want me to?"

And he said, real quiet-like, "Yes. Come back."

Next time I went back, I had left Timmy home. I'd left him with a neighbor lady, because my mama wasn't in no condition, anymore, to watch out for him. She was just kinda sleeping most all the time, now. And I couldn't get her to eat, much.

Well, me and Bill acted real civil to one another when I got to his house. It wasn't even full dark yet, although it was getting well into the fall of the year. The sun was setting through his front windows, there in the living room, and Bill went and pulled down all the blinds and closed up the draperies, there.

He didn't beat around the bush. We sat down together and he said, "What you did, there, the other night. I done that once, in Tijuana, Mexico, when I was in the Service."

With some Mexican whore, I figured, but I didn't say nothing.

"My wife, she never done that. Never asked her to."

Pretty damned likely he never did her, neither, I thought, but I still just sat there like a lump and kept my trap shut.

"When I was sleeping there, in the chair," he said, "I was dreamin' I was -- doin' it -- again. --Not that," he said. "Not in... somebody's... mouth. I dreamt I was -- y'know -- inside a woman, doin' it, the regular way."

What did he want me to say? What should I say to that? "You was just sleeping," I said.

"But it was like when I was -- vigorous," Bill said. "Did I get hard?"

It took me a minute to figure out what he was asking, but finally I said, "No, sir, it was like you said. You were just soft, the whole time."

"Well why in Creation would a young girl like you want to do that? Put my smelly old cock in her mouth! Why, that's just terrible! How come you did that?"

"If it made you dream you was a young man, and was making love to a woman, how come it's so terrible?" I asked him.

"Well, Hell, girl! I never said it didn't feel good. Sure, it did. But I'm askin' -- what's in it for you? You think I don't know I'm a worn-out old fuck of a man? You think I wanted you to make yourself sick, puttin my tired old tool in your mouth like that?"

"Didn't make me sick! I wanted to do it!"