I was born in 1947 though for the life of me I can’t imagine the moment of my conception. I mean I’ve never, ever seen my parents touch. I figure either they accidentally bumped together once and I was the result or the stork really does exist. They certainly did not have any other children.

The best name they could come up for me was Chastity. This was in 1947, not 1747, and the best name they could think of was Chastity? Oh well. I’ve tried to live down the name ever since.

I had as normal an upbringing as one could expect living in a smallish midwestern college town. Life was a series of mishaps as a young child. I was caught playing jack in the box with a neighbor boy at six; we’d taken off all our clothes and popped up from behind a low hedge every time a car passed. My parents were aghast. I was already showing myself to be a Bad Seed. Then the bike accident when I got my scar. The scar was a visible sign of affliction in their eyes.; I loved it. Who ever heard of a pirate queen without a scar?

I did have a normal childhood, though, which seemed terribly boring compared to my aspirations. I grew up loving books and was studious — school was easy for me — and my parents were relieved that I wasn’t a delinquent at ten, despite their fears about my friends.

I’m not going to go into a history of my first sexual fumblings, I imagine they are pretty much the same for everyone. What set me apart was that I really loved sex and was pretty aggressive getting it considering the times and my upbringing.

I think I would have liked high school except it was probably the biggest collection of the worst people around to have a sensible conversation with, much less screw. I bit the bullet though and made myself available to as many as possible. I had realized that having a reputation wasn’t worth anything except to have a good one for being a bad girl.

So I suffered. My lowest point being my hanging around Steve, a junior then who fancied himself a pimp. Not that I knew that was what he was thinking when I started with him as his other girlfriend. It was something I discovered as a sixteen-year-old sophomore in the men’s giving blowjobs to guys during Junior Prom. I was shocked to find out he’d been charging them. I would have done it for free. As a lark it was fun, much more fun than the pretended excitement on the dance floor.

Steve was a definite low point. It wasn’t until a year later that I’d run into Jim at the college library where I liked to hang out. Sometimes a good book is even better than sex with a bimbo. I was starting to grow up.

Jim was great from the first moment and he seemed to find me gorgeous, or so he said. He even liked me as much thirty minutes after sex as before, a welcome change. He also appreciated my love for drama and dressup.

I think he had already realized by then I wasn’t anywhere near your normal date when I stopped by his place to go with him to the campus theater where they were showing some short art films. I was wearing my regulation London Fog coat I’d found at the secondhand store, Andy’s, which I think is the best place in town next to the library.

I was a little breathless as I knocked at the door. I had to go home and change after school and of course mom was there and she was wondering when I was going to date boys like other girls. They had fallen in love with Steve when he came to pick me up for the dance last year. The fact that I came home with someone else and we screwed out front in his car never quite registered. Neither did the fact that Steve was a shit. Being around parents is difficult, especially when they . . . oh well, why go on about that? Before I left the dance I had yelled at Steve calling him a shit. And he yelled back calling me a whore. Everyone heard us. That’s life.

Anyway, Steve is definitely behind me, and has been since that time, except for a few moments of unthinking desperation. My parents don’t know about Jim, which is probably best for them. They think I study too much. So I found myself running late and had to dress quickly. I used colored Bic pens and those new felt tip things to draw a map of lust (as I though of it) on my body. Red and black thunderbolts and blazing suns on my thighs and belly surrounding my crotch. Blue and red swirls, like the Celtic patterns found on Bronze Age tombs, emerged from my nipples and engulfed my breasts. Lines and dots drawn by a green Bic, hatched on my arms and thighs as far down as my wrists and knees, finished the map. I looked like the Indian princess in that engraving of the sights in Virginia done by an early explorer.

As I said, I loved books. The college library was a haven. Finding Jim there was the best possible. I put on some lipstick, a scarf and my coat and rushed out in my Keds and bobby socks yelling “Bye” to mom. I’m sure that she was shaking her head.

Jim opened the door and we went in to the front room of his place. I drew off my scarf and stuffed it in a pocket. I didn’t have my room here yet and we were still pretty formal. He had some wine out and cheese and crackers and stuff. We try so hard to be grown up.

“Take your coat?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said, slipping it off. I gave him a grin. “I’d spin around but the back isn’t done yet.”

He was busy saying “whew“ again and again. He thought I was a bit intense at times. “There are markers and pens in the coat pocket if you’d like to finish me.” I was hoping he’d finish me in more ways than one.

“Ah.”

“If there’s time, I’ll just lie down here on the couch and you can start.” I grabbed some crackers and some cheese and moved over toward the couch. Jim’s cute when he stares so.

“Are you sure you’re just seventeen? At times you remind me of those women in the Bible I heard about in church when I was a kid, you know, those painted ones.” He knelt down on the floor after getting the pens from the coat pocket. He took a sip of wine, a big one, and said. “This isn’t going to be easy.” His hand started to stroke my flank.

“Why not? You can draw better than I can.” His hand felt good; it wasn’t going to be easy to stay still. The room at least seemed to be warm enough. I wasn’t going to catch a cold, thank god.

Jim was feeling the heat, too. He was awfully thirsty; his jelly glass was empty of wine. “You know why.” He started to draw, very intent on his work.

“You could hum something or put a record on. Your heavy breathing is distracting.” I was hoping he wasn’t noticing how my heart beat had become unnaturally loud. It felt as if my breast was being bounced from the cushion. “No, something romantic, not that chain gang thing you’re doing now.”

“OK.” He got up and put Grieg’s Peer Gynt Suite, you know, the one with “The Hall of the Mountain King,” on the hi-fi. What a weird choice I thought, but at least my heart doesn’t sound so loud anymore.

I nibbled my crackers and cheese and after a while he asked me to turn around so he could do the other side. I sat up, sipped some of my wine, his second glass was empty now, too. “Having problems?” I think he was getting dizzy, his eyes were following the maze of lines around my breasts. “Are you OK?” I started to turn around and lie down but he stopped me for a second and kissed me.

“Girl problems.”

I lay down again. “A college boy like you has girl problems? Tell me about them, maybe I can help.” His hands felt nice as they held the skin taut for the pens to draw on.

“You’re the problem, you minx.” He gave my butt a pat. “You are driving me to distraction.”

“You mean you’re not there yet?” I giggled. “How does that thing end, ‘Nude, lewd . . .’?”

“In your case tattooed, we go to the movies, rush back home, then screwed.”

“There are always the bushes if you can’t wait.”

“I’m past waiting. I doubt if I’ll ever be able to walk again, and if you don’t stop squirming —”

“Yes?”

“Screwing might have to be put off to tomorrow — hold still.”

“Tomorrow! I’ll die. I can’t wait till tomorrow.”

“Then hold still.”

Jim finally finished. I think he would have finished quicker if it were not for the wine. I was sitting up, sipping the last of mine. The couch cover felt especially expressive tonight, my skin was tingling all over. Jim sat on the other couch and was trying to compose himself.

“Is that a damp spot on your pants? Did you spill your wine?” I was determined to do my best to help him get settled, poor boy.

“There’s no damp spot.” He was growling and laughing at the same time. “If you’re not good I’ll give you a tongue lashing.”

“Before or after the screwing?” I put down my glass and twisted my head back so I could see what Jim had done. “I’m the worst girl around, I’m sure I deserve it and more.”

“Both.” He started to laugh. “Ready to go to the movies?”

“If you think you can walk with that beast stuck in your pants.”

“He’s not so bad.”

“Then I shouldn’t spank him?”

Jim did one of his famous blushes for the umpteenth time tonight and was starting to say something when Mark came in.

“Hi Mark,” I said. “We were discussing whether Jim’s beast needs to be spanked because it’s so bad.” I smiled and popped a cracker in my mouth.

“Ah.” Mark had stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes were starting to make him dizzy, too.

“Of course, Jim thinks I need a tongue lashing because I’m naughty. Even after I let him do the back, want to see?” Jim was grinning at Mark as I bounced up off the couch and spun around. “Nifty, hunh?”

“Ah.”

“You know, you boys are something else. I thought college was to help one become articulate. Yet you guys just stand around, grunt and mumble. I have to say I am not encouraged.”

“Ah.” Mark could blush, too.

“Could I borrow that book by Motley you just got from the library, the one on costume design?”

“Yes!” Mark turned and started to dart from the room.

“Tomorrow’s OK. Jim and I are going to some movies, when he can walk again. Then we’re coming back and hope to fuck like minks. Tomorrow would be perfect.”

“Ah,” Mark mumbled. “Sure.” He quickly edged out of the room. I think the poor boy was terrified. I was bad but I wasn’t vicious.

Jim laughed out loud and started to stand up. “You know you are driving Mark and Bill to distraction, too.”

“I am? I’m sorry.” I rose also and went to him. “I thought we passed distraction some time ago and were on the road to perdition now.” I gave him a hug and a kiss. “I’m sure you boys can work stuff out. I’d hate for any of you to explode or something.” I picked up my coat and went to the door. “Shall we go.”

“On air.” He helped it on, took my hand and down the steps we went into a cool dusk, with a bright shimmering sky overhead.

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