Read Online Funny Boys by Warren Adler - Free Book Online Page A

litany went, passed from mother to daughter over the generations. At this point, the decision was out of her hands.
    “I’ll respeck you better, Mutzie,” he whispered.
    He had insinuated his body between her legs, which werestretched out under him. She felt something move between her legs, something touching her thing, moving up and down her thing.
    “Just promise not to hurt me, Pep,” she whimpered. There was no point in protesting. He was stronger, and insistent.
    “Would I hurt you, Mutzie? Yaw my girl.”
    “I swear I never did this, Pep.”
    She felt the pressure of his body on her. He put both hands on the cheeks of her buttocks and thrust.
    He put all his weight against her and she felt a searing pain tear into the middle of her. She heard herself screaming inside of her head, but no sound came out of her tightly pressed lips. Above her his body moved without pity, hard and relentless, pounding through her, splitting her.
    “One tough cherry,” she heard him say hoarsely, like the grumble of distant thunder. For a brief moment, fully penetrated, he did not move and she felt his hand feeling around as if to validate what he had done.
    Thankfully, the initial pain receded. She searched her mind for a way to react, reaching into her senses for some quiver of pleasure. It was there, vaguely felt through the rawness of her body. She had become a woman, she told herself. She had been fucked. In her mind, she had always thought of it as a violent, invasive act. So she had been forced to do what was inevitable. I’m Pep’s girl now, she told herself. She felt pride in that. Her life had entered another dimension.
    Then he started to move inside of her. She felt a searing pain and was on the verge of screaming. Sensing that, he put his hand over her mouth.
    “No,” he ordered, watching her eyes above his hand. She shook her head and he slowly lifted his hand, ready to pounce atthe slightest hint of a scream. She knew better than to do that, just laying there now, waiting for something to happen that might mollify the pain, listening to his grunting sounds as he increased the rhythm of his thrusts.
    Then suddenly she felt this mordant curiosity, wondering if Jean Harlow had to submit to this ritual in such a crude and brutal way. Certainly she had never seen a hint of it in her movie life, although she supposed in real life Jean Harlow would be no exception in this regard. Every woman, except maybe old maids or nuns, had to get through this one way or another.
    “You like it, baby?” Pep asked between gasps.
    Actually, she was trying to like it, hoping that the pain would disappear completely.
    “I’m gonna come, Mutzie. Here.”
    He moved her hand to his thing and closed her fingers around it while he quickly moved out of her. Then she felt a series of jumpy spasms happening to his thing, then she felt warm sticky stuff on her arm. After a while, his thing became soft and he untangled himself from her, then got out of the car and straightened his clothes.
    She got out of the car on her side feeling sore, her legs shaking as she straightend her skirt. She knew she was bleeding and she put her torn panties between her legs to keep the blood from ruining her skirt. Then she got back into the car and combed her hair.
    Pep reached into the backseat and put on his jacket and hat, then got in beside her.
    “You came through like a champ,” Pep said, bending over and kissing her forehead. “Not easy the first time. Sorry I had to be a little rough. Next time it’ll be nice and easy.”
    Yet, despite the terror and degradation of it, she felt oddlyelated, as if she had made it through an initiation of some sort, a ritual that had to be suffered through. “I’d die if you made me pregnant.”
    “Hey, Mutzie, I pulled out. You got the evidence.”
    Pep started the car and drove toward Pitkin Avenue.
    “You wanna grab a bite?” he asked.
    “Please, Pep,” Mutzie pleaded. “I’m a mess. Take me home.”
    Pep