Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Hardly a month later it was mid-Missouri again with a few more milestones stacked up.
Most profoundly, Selective Service said it had not changed its quota projection. It would not,
could not guarantee that the quota would not change, but coming on to September felt like
the clubhouse turn. A new year would bring a new lottery. Then began the grueling prep for
the pre-induction physical.
Another sign of the times was a few miles outside the town where I'd done my time on
the student deferment. Mid-Missouri was rich with beautiful countryside then—what would
become the subdivisions and strip malls of the immediate future. But at that time the foot-
hills rolled freely from pinnacles to pasturelands. One place of refuge where some friends had
lived for a year or so was a communal setup they called the Farm. The group at the Farm
changed occasionally with departures and arrivals but remained constant in bliss and the love
all around. Pro rata rent shares varied according to the desirability of a room or outbuild-
ing. Thomas Strong was a strapping, likeable hippy with loving values. He seemed born to bib
overalls, a billy goat goatee and a happy approach to life and any tasks—especially a man-sized
task. He glowed along with the love of his life, Sarah, a blonde beauty whose energy and good
looks focused on Thomas. She could not be near him without hugging him, clinging to him,
caressing him. She got some overalls too and added soft patches inside to spare her nipples.
Sarah wore only overalls, and the guys could see her breasts as often as not. She laughed, as if
at the free flowing love between her and Thomas. He laughed back, so wonderful was the joke
they shared. Nobody had to sneak a peak once Johann was born, a good baby by all counts,
even with his yen for the tit, which Sarah flopped freely at the first whimper.
It had been a set piece till mid-summer, soon after Johann's first birthday, when Dugan
showed up. A surly, swarthy hippie with a wild black mane, a shaggy black beard and hairy
shoulders, Dugan asked Sarah if she wanted to join him yonder in a field. He had something
he wanted to show her.
Sarah admitted soon after that she really, honestly, could not believe the length, girth and
stamina of Dugan's dick. She said, “I've never seen a dick that big. It was scary and so amazing
when it it.” She said she “balled him” as a goof, because he really wanted it, but she would in
no way hurt Thomas, who she still loved madly and always would. Thomas hung his head and
blushed, maybe in deference to the love all around us that sometimes must be shared.
Everyone saw where things were going, back to the field and then back to the outbuilding
where Sarah, Thomas and Johann lived—on the way to the ditch. Sarah and Dugan laughed
at their frequency, saying that sometimes a man and a woman “just have to get the balling out
of their system so they can get on with their lives.” Sarah frequently proclaimed her eternal
love for Thomas, and soon Dugan did too; Thomas was so loving and so understanding of the
harmless nature of the thing.
Thomas had “split” from the Farm a few days before I visited. I saw him in town, clean-
shaved in pants and a shirt and shoes, a circumspect guy whose wife had run off with a freak.
