Hump Monster    
  by raymi the minx    
 Back to Rocketpack    

Humping girls too, maybe. 

I was a hump machine with sex on the brain. From humping pillows to table legs, stuffed animals, my bike seat - there was one thought in mind, "I need to get fucked."

Beth was my girl-humping partner. We humped each other all the time. Especially after playing with Barbies. That always got us HOT. We almost always got caught, but when that happened we'd just say we were wrestling or playing Nurse. Although my hand would usually be up her shirt so no one really believed us. They called us gross humpers or told everyone they saw us having sex.

Beth and I decided we were to get married when we were older, though I would be the one to get the sex change. We were lying down in the sandbox at the park, me on top of her. We tried humping, sand grains clumped under our dirty fingernails. "But then I won't be able to wear dresses." I complained. 

The next day I called Beth ugly after she made fun of my nose. We fought then made-up, every other day. On the days we weren't friends, I whored from playmate to playmate. 

Pamela was the girl I made out with all the time. She looked the most like a boy with her short hair and that's why I dry-humped her.

Pamela was sort of dumb - her mother, grandma and uncle took turns falling through their glass coffee table when they were wasted. Pamela's breath always tasted like hot corn so I made her drink from the hose before I would kiss her. She was fucked-up and ran out of her house in her pyjamas, screaming down the street some nights.

Pamela lived beside the boy who exposed himself to my mother when he was 13. He came out of his house one day wearing his sister's trashy lingerie, garter belt and stilettos, walked to the end of our driveway and called up the stairs to my mum with a giant erection poking out. The next day he did the same thing, my mum called his mother who was at a friend's house, several doors down. The boy ran back inside and locked himself in the bathroom. Later on his parents came by to thank my mum for not calling the police. Beside him lived the Jehovah witnesses who one day disappeared in the middle of the night with their sons, leaving everything behind - furniture, clothing, car. Apparently to join their weird cult. To their vacant unit moved my new friend Krystal who had Tourette's Syndrome. I was one of her only friends. When we played or traded stickers she would scream and repetitively flip her hair. Sometimes she screamed FUCK, her face always in spasms. I was both frightened and intrigued by her.

I didn't speak to Beth for a week after she told me Santa Claus wasn't real. I was in grade 3, she in grade 4. I thought about punching her in the cunt. She told me her mother stopped believing in Santa Claus when she was four years old and that it was time for me to grow up. I felt robbed. No, I said, the Easter Bunny and tooth fairy ok - but not Santa. He's the real thing. She shook her head. Beth, no wonder your mom's a bitch.

Beth and I beat the shit out of each other one day. Our brothers were wrestling and said the girls should fight too. I jumped on her and started punching, pulling hair - we rolled around screaming and yelling. Finally she got up, bawling her eyes out, "I hate you bitch!" She walked in the direction of my house. That cunt. I started crying so I wouldn't get in trouble. My mum came over. "The boys told us to." I wailed. I had gotten away with it. Beth was still mad and walked home, her hair and face all messed up. I had blood and scratch marks all over myself. I walked over to Pamela's and knocked on the door.

I thought about my neighbour Anthony a lot. He was 6 years older and looked like a British private schoolboy because he WAS a British private schoolboy. I thought about him pulling my pants down and letting me sit in his lap. Pamela and I would spy on him and William (my neighbour to the left) in the garage, then go back to my garage and make out. I pretended she was Anthony. We walked back to the boys. "Guess what we were doing." I said. They were trading baseball cards. "Having sex." Anthony said as he looked me straight in the eye. I blushed and told him he was gross.

This boy Curtis punched me in the cunt when I was about 6 years old. The older boys in our neighbourhood saw, came over and beat the shit out of him. I had passed out from the pain. He bruised my pelvic pussy bone or whatever you call it. He was my on-again-off-again boyfriend between Beth and I. We took turns humping and making out with him.

Beth and I established the neighbourhood sex club. Headquarters was situated in this giant bush in the park. It was a very popular club. We had a box that two people could fit inside and do whatever they wanted to each other in there. Usually everyone was too shy to really kiss or touch privates so we'd make fuck sounds when it was our turn in the box - moaning and slapping on the box walls. We told each other lies about how many people we had sex with and what we did when we fucked. Keep in mind we were all no older than 8. My favorite thing was to have my pants pulled down and spanked and then mouth-fucked. Beth said she had sex with three black guys at once. Pamela was always being tied-up and pissed-on.

Beth hung out with Jenny, the girl who walked in her sleep, when we got in fights. We became psychotically jealous of who the other played with so naturally, Beth secretly hated Pamela and I sort of hated Jenny. Beth once spat on top of Pamela's head in the playground at school. Even though Pamela was my friend, I laughed at her.

I was excited that Pamela sat beside me in Miss Cole's class. I told my mum and she wrote a letter to my teacher saying she would prefer if I not sit beside Pamela because she was a spaz and I wouldn't learn anything. The principal came in one day and slapped her on the ass in front of everybody because she was lying on the floor behind the puppet centre, talking to herself. Mr. Panello walked in, "Where is she?" He walked to the cardboard puppet stand, kicked it aside, yanked Pamela off the floor by the arm and whooped her so hard Pamela turned red and started screaming. He then made her apologize to Miss Cole, The T.A. and to the class. Then he left. 

Pamela showed me the hand-print on her butt in the girls washroom and told me it felt good a little bit and made her pussy tingle.

Finally, one day my mum caught me and Pamela humping in the backyard. I had my head up her shirt and we were rolling around on the grass. She came out into the yard, furious, "What ARE you DOING?!" She demanded. "Umm, Pamela is itchy and I am helping her." My mum sent Pamela home, took me inside and told me that kissing girls was wrong and that would make me gay and being gay is like the number one thing I don't want to be. I shrugged and said I liked kissing girls. My mum flipped and called my dad at work right away. I think they denied any possibility of their daughter being attracted to both boys and girls. 

They looked the other way when they saw me humping a doll or making Barbie spread her legs so the other Barbies could see her cooch.

email raymi :: back to rocketpack.org