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The day that I thought that my birth control pills became effective, I dressed as provocatively as possible and no panties. I hummed to myself, “I’m getting laid tonight, I’m getting laid tonight.” It wasn’t that I didn’t want to blow him, I was ready to do the dirty deed.

I was disappointed. As soon as we were parked, I grabbed the blankets and scooted to the back of the pickup. Under the blankets I took off my top and bra; then my skirt.

Henry joined me under the blankets; he undressed, too. Then we were in each other’s arms and our hands were exploring. As I played with his cock; his hard cock; I was looking forward to it inside me. It had been so long. “Cindy Lou, why don’t you start by sucking it? I know how much you like that.”

I was hoping that was just to get Henry’s cock ready, but as it slid passed my lips, I realized Henry was as hard as ever. It could not have been more ready. I started and made another discovery. Once I started I didn’t want to quit. “Hmmmmmm, hmmmmmmm, hmmmmmmm,” I sucked.

I went crazy when I felt Henry’s cock throbbing and then filling my mouth. “Hmmmmmm, hmmmmm, hmmmmmm.”

“Cindy Lou, you’re an amazing cocksucker. Tell me you want to be my cocksucker.”

I did, but I wasn’t really happy. I wanted to get on my back, not my knees. I wanted to feel his cock inside me. Instead, I had the feeling that whenever we were together, Henry would expect a blowjob.

When he dropped me off at home, “Cindy Lou, tonight was great. When will I see you again?”

“I don’t know, call me.”

I wasn’t going to see Henry again. Sure, I liked sucking his cock, but I needed more than that. I went on the pill for a reason: so I could do the dirty deed.

Whenever Henry called, I was too busy to go out. When I saw him at school, I was pleasant but wouldn’t commit to a date.

I thought I’d made it clear. I didn’t think Henry would take it as badly as he did.

A few weeks later, I heard through the grapevine that Henry was telling all the guys at school, “do you know that big girl from Mississippi? She loves nothing more than sucking cock.”

I was shocked.

Guys who’d never looked twice at me, started to ask me out. I was shocked that colored boys and Mexican boys asked me out.

I’d go out with a white guy but on the first date, I might let him feel up my titties, but nothing else. I was trying to prove those rumors wrong. Those boys made it clear what they expected. I mean, we’d be kissing, and they’d guide my hand to their crotch. They’d already unbuckled their belt and pulled down their zipper. “Cindy Lou, I heard this is what you want.”

I didn’t. Not like that.

Rarely did they ask me out again.

In my World Geography class, a colored boy named Mitchell Coleman always sat next to me. I was polite but not friendly. One day, he said, “Missy, I’ve been hearing bad things about you. You should go out with one of us black guys, we know how to treat a girl.” He always called me Missy; he called all the white girls Missy.

“Mitchell, I would appreciate if you wouldn’t talk about things you know nothing about.” I turned away from him.

Right after that class, sitting in a stall in the ladies’ room, I

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