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“It’s nine o’clock, Billie-Ann!” Nora shouted from out back of the tumbledown shack. Billie opened her pale-blue eyes, stretched her long tanned legs in the bed and turned over with a sleepy groan. Not far from her room she heard her stepmother rattling a pail on the way out to feed the chickens. Feeding the chickens was Billie’s job, but she got out of it about half the time by lazing the morning away in bed.
“Stir yourself a little, cain’t ya?” Nora pleaded.
Billie-Ann pushed herself up and swung both feet to the floor. She always slept naked, because it was hot in July in that part of Missouri and because lately she’d grown to like the way it felt. Sometimes in the night she liked to touch one of her breasts or let her fingertips mingle in the sparse, fine down that had begun to cover her pubic mound. She never did much more than that… just touch… but it always gave her a warm, tingly feeling to drift back to sleep with.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.