It's an early summer morning and dad's truck is packed for a camping trip to Williams River. My older brother, Chester is complaining that he doesn't want to set in the back of the camper shell with the stupid dog and his whiny little sister.
Whiny, little, I'm eighteen and far more grown up than he is at nineteen and what's wrong with the dog, he's far better company than my stupid brother anyway. We exchange barbs as the truck is packed for the trip. It's three in the morning, I'm riding in the back of the camper shell with a one hundred pound dog called Timber.
The only lights in the back of the truck are from passing cars and the dim glint from the trucks tail lights. I am lying down in the bed of the truck facing the tailgate so no one can see me. Timber is lying with his back to the tailgate. His eyes are the darkest green I have ever seen, they appear black and shiny in the dark.
I am thinking of boys, wondering what it is like to be kissed, not the kind of kiss I have seen mom get from dad, but a real kiss the one in the movie where the guys tongue goes in to the girls mouth. I lean closer to Timber his breath is warm on my face. I feel a strange tightness in my tummy, a feeling of drifting out of control comes over me.
I open my mouth and Timber licks at my lips, then the roof of my mouth. I feel his lower jaw press against my lower teeth; his tongue is warm and tickles the roof of my mouth. In a wave of shame and humiliation, I reach down to my private parts. I slide my hand up under skirt and into my panties. I know that this is wrong. My finger touches my fur, find my inner lips and then the small bud just above the folds of skin. I moan as a wave of passion sweeps through my body, just as Timber pushes his mouth farther onto mine. Over the last few months I have been getting braver with the dog.
Yet each time the shame draws me back to reality. This time I go further, I touch Timber's maleness tentatively with my hand, the same hand that was just inside my panties. For the hundredth time, I wonder what it would be like to know a man to have him kiss and fondle me. Someone to take control of me and make me his.
Oh, I desire so much to be held, to be loved, to be talked to and to be made love to. I put my hand back in my panties, damp with my wetness and that of Timber, my finger slides silkily over my outer lips and dips to my passage. I tenderly stroke the little bud waiting above my opening. I gasp slightly and Timber is at my mouth again. I drift into a dazed state and feel as if someone is directing my actions. I startle back to reality when the back of the truck fills with light. We have stopped at a gas station. I quickly arrange myself as if nothing has happened.
We are stopped and my dad walks around back and opens the camper shell. He asks if I need to get out for a while. My face is flush with shame; I cannot look directly into his eyes. I climb out of the truck as dad takes Timber out on a leash. I blush and quickly turn away when I see that Timber has a tip of red showing between his hind legs. I jump when the gas station attendant asks "regular or high test."
I quickly walk over to the restroom. The warm summer morning is filled with insects flying about the lights, zipping this way then that. When I am safely in the restroom and the door locked, I look at myself in the hazy mirror. Nothing has changed, there looking back at me is the same short eighteen year old girl with small breasts, long brown hair, hazel eyes and well defined hips. There is no hint of the perverted act just contemplated with the dog. I am so ashamed, I cannot trust myself with the dog, maybe my dumb brother will trade seats with me.
I splash my face with cold water and wash my hands. As I go out to the truck, Chester has just returned from the restroom and jumps into the front seat between mom and dad. With a shy look at the gas station attendant, I clime back into the camper shell trying not to let him see above my bare knees. At least in the back of the camper, I don't have to put up with endless comments about my height.
At five foot one, ninety-five pounds, I am always being called peewee. I hate that name; the worst part is that my brother is always saying that I look like a midget. I guess that's why I dress in short dresses that show my legs and help to make me look taller, even when they are impractical, like climbing over the tail gate of the camper.
It is just turning light, the gas station disappears in the early morning fog and the trees start to show their green color on the hill to the right. The Gully River is just becoming visible down the bank to the left. West Virginia is just breath taking in the late summer.
In my mind, I follow the Gully River up to the Cherry River then to Williams River and on up to the West Fork of the Williams River near the old ghost town of Williams. Soon, I tell myself, we will be there. With this thought I stroke the soft black hair of Timber, it makes me feel good knowing that I can finally be alone. The Sun has turned the inside of the camper warm as we pull in to the campsite. Dad and Chester are noisily unloading the truck as mom directs the lay out of the camp.
The camper is to be moved next to a large pine tree just above the river where Timber can be tied to sleep under the truck. The tent is to be pitched next to the picnic table on a large flat area back away from the river. Great I think, walking down the bank, just what I need, the river roaring in my ears all night. The water is cold but the large car size rocks in the river are warm. I climb up on a large flat one and lay back in the warm sun. I jump out of my skin when my brother yells from behind me.
"The fish can see your panties peewee!"
Why does he have to be so mean? After breakfast, dad is pitching horseshoes with Chester and mom is setting in the sun on a lawn chair reading a book. I get the leash and lead Timber off for a walk down the riverbank. For twenty minutes we walked down stream, I am enjoying the quite and Timber is clearly enjoying the smells. I am again forced to stop while a rock gets his undivided attention.
As I look around, I hear giggling and see a couple laying on a large rock jetting out into the middle of the river. They are about one hundred yards from me but the wind is carrying every sound they make. It's clear that the couple is unaware that I can hear them, it's also clear that they are involved in some heavy petting.
I snap Timber's leash and turn him away from the river into the tree line and start to weave my way down stream to get a better look. My heart is pounding and my breath is barely under control. I can see the large rock through the trees. The man is about twenty with broad strong shoulders and brown hair. The man has removed his girl's top and is unsnapping her shorts. The girl's breast are exposed to the sun, I feel flush. Imagination takes over; I'm the girl on the rock. I feel his hands on my breast as my left hand teases at my right nipple through my shirt, his mouth on mine. My hart is pounding wildly. I sit down my legs are so weak. The girl lifts her bottom and allows the man to pull her shorts and panties off. My god, he is so strong looking, with one quick move he has his pants down and has inserted his hard maleness between the girl's legs.
I gasp as he moves forward, I know that his manhood is deeper into the girl's privates than his tongue is into her mouth. My hand has found its way up under my dress and inside the waistband of my panties. A cold poke to the back of my neck informs me that Timber is restless. I push the dog away from my back and he prances over in front of me blocking my view of the couple on the rock. I push at Timber again; he backs up but then slaps at me with his big right front paw sending me sprawling onto my side. I get up to my hands and knees to stand but find Timber under my skirt. Before I can recover he has pushed his cold nose up my leg to the crotch of my panties. I gasp out of surprise and drag the dog back around to my side as I jump up to my feet.
Just then Timber barks, the man on the rock looks up and our eyes meet for just an instant, I stoop down under the brush and drag Timber deeper into the trees away from the river. I am about one mile away from the river and the embarrassment that the dog has caused me. I stop to catch my breath and collect my thoughts. Around me the trees and bushes are spotted with boulders, a heavy green fills my view. The air is filled with the sound of wind blowing through the treetops; the river is a faint memory whispered to the West. Under my feet the ground is soft and covered with pine needles and grass. The sun is just approaching its zenith. I find a chair size rock and set down.
My head is spinning. I close my eyes; I can see the man's eyes locked onto mine. I again imagine that I am laying on the large rock under the handsome man. His lips are on my bare breast as his hand slides under my panties. A flush feeling overtakes me. I slide down the chair size rock and set on the warm ground looking up at Timber. I reach out and slowly stroke his ear. Timber leans to me and licks my face. My heart is pounding as my lips part and Timber's tongue slips in between my lips softly at first then more urgently stroking the roof of my mouth. With my eyes closed I unbutton my shirt and unclasp my bra.
I pull up my skirt and work my panties down below my knees. My hand finds the soft lips between my legs as the other finds a bare nipple. A chill goes up my spine when my fingers make contact with the little bud just above my other lips. A moan allows Timber to press his tongue deeper into my mouth; I am spinning out of control. I open my eyes and see the red tip of Timber's maleness. The vision of the couple on the rock appears in my mind, for the hundredth time I wonder what it's like to be held and controlled by a strong man. I would give anything to be loved. In a dream state, I roll onto my hands and knees. I lower my head to my fore arms, my elbows pressed to the ground.
My short skirt has flipped up over my back and I am exposed, unprotected, my panties down around my knees my small breast bare pointing toward the ground. Unaware of what I am doing, I find myself presented to Timber. His tongue is all over my bottom. His slobber is clinging to my downey fur then running down my thighs, I cannot think, I only have an uncontrollable need to be loved. Please, don't do this I plead with myself. But it's too late, just as I gain a small measure of control, Timber is on my back. I yell as his nails dig along my waist and grab my thighs.
I am completely unprepared for the violence of Timber's jabbing. His tool has a sharp point and he is driving it at my soft unprotected bottom. I try to stand but Timber is too big and his determined jabbing keeps me off balance until he wins access to my virginity. His maleness slams into me, I pull forward but he yanks me back at the same time jamming his hips forward with blinding speed. I yell again as he has planted his weapon fully into me, I don't have time to contemplate the burning pain before he pulls back and slams me again. All I can do is breathe in short quick gasps as he repeatedly humps into me, with a speed that is staggering. My breasts are bouncing rapidly back and forth hurting my chest. I slump down but he keeps my bottom held up and continues to work at me.
Tears are running down my face, I look under my legs and see the blood of my maidenhood trickling down my left thigh. Then with a hard push forward Timber lodges himself into me and just holds me tightly, I feel stuffed full inside. I can feel a pulsing at the base of his rod where we are joined. A stretching sensation just inside of my womanhood has developed. Oh no, I am being pumped full of his seeds, I can see a steady stream of fluid running down my thighs and pooling on the ground as I am filled to overflowing.
Oh my, what have I done? What have I done? I lay my head down on my fore arms and softly cry in shame and self loathing. My belly feels queasy. His seeds are drying on my leg and yet he is still holding my bottom up and hanging on to me with a grip I would not have believe possible. The pulsing and pumping from his rod has not stopped. I slip over the edge into darkness. When I come back to myself, Timber is laying ten feet from me cleaning himself. I am sore all over, down my sides are long claw marks, my thighs are battered, blood has dried between my thighs and my insides feel crawly. The shame is palatable, I feel so filthy, I fight not to be sick as a knot is forming in my throat.