"Where are you headed?" he asked.

"To the city. To visit with my uncle. I'm pretty excited, too. It's the first time I've been away from the farm in my life. But my grandmother – that's who I've been living with since my parents died – she thinks it will be good for me to get away from the country for a while and see the big city."

"And she's right, too," said the man. "By the way, what does your uncle do?" Tom pressed closer with each sentence.

"Grandma says he owns a motel. He bought it right after his wife died, and he runs it with his two sons, Cousin Ken and Cousin Jim. I'll be helping them out."

"Your uncle is pretty lucky to have a niece as pretty as you. Are you sure this is your first time away from the farm?"

"Yes," said Bobbie Joe, sliding away from the man's pressing knee.

"I'll bet a big-titted girl like you must have had a rough time around all the farmhands. They probably couldn't keep their hands off you."

"What do you mean?" asked Bobbie Joe. "We didn't have no farmhands. Me and grandma and old Zeke, our mule, did all the work. We couldn't afford to hire anyone."

"Yes, but you must have been around some men at one time or another. What about the boys at school?"

"What about them?" asked Bobbie Joe. "I only went to school for three years. But I didn't mess without boys. Grandma saw that I should always stay away from them."

"You mean you're a virgin?" asked Tom, his hand resting on her bare thigh. The girl's cut-off jeans were very short.

"What's a virgin?" asked Bobbie Joe. "Never mind," said Tom, his hand now gliding up and down the girl's thigh. "But tell me, have you ever seen a prick?"

"What's a prick?" asked Bobbie Joe. She pressed closer, looking at the man through innocent, but curious, eyes.

"This is a prick!" said the man. He then unbuttoned his overcoat and opened it wide. "Do you like it?"