Proof of the Pudding

"My mother and dad may have been old-fashioned in many ways working long hours on the farm, taking us kids to church every Sunday, and never sashaying through the house minus their clothes but they sure weren't dumb on the subject of modern sex. And I don't mean the kind of sex that's involved in breeding farm livestock, either.

"Like it was yesterday, I can still hear my dad saying a little worriedly to mom: 'You'd better get Francine off and tell her what to watch out for in New York… else she might run into some trouble.' Then my mom, turning to me with a loving smile and saying: 'Your pa's right, honey. Come, let's go upstairs and talk while I help you finish your packing.' My two kid sisters wanted to come, too, so they could listen in, but my dad ordered them to go out and play. What mom had to say to me was none of their business, he said.

"Up in my room, I got the word, all right, and mom didn't pull any punches. She laid it right on the line, using the frankest, bluntest language she knew, surprising the hell out of me. 'Honey, when you get to the big city, you gotta be real careful not to take up with the wrong men,' she cautioned as she took a mysterious little package from her apron pocket and stuck it in one of my suitcases, under my spare panties. 'There's a lot of evil ones there, slick-talkin' dudes who pull all kinds of sly tricks on innocent little country gals like you, just to get at their virgin pussies.’

"Sure, I was a virgin then, but how did mom know? I could’ve been laid a hundred or more times, because the boys around home liked to fuck, too. As much as big-city guys. Some of them had already tried to feel me up and get me hot so they could horse around between my legs, and maybe stick their cocks in me. And they might've made the grade with me too, if it hadn't been for my fear of getting knocked up, which would've wrecked all my plans for a career in advertising. I'd studied, too hard, learning copy-writing, public relations, and all that, and saved too long for the job-hunting trip to New York, to let anything interfere.