In 1970 I fucked for the first time, graduated from university on the East Coast, moved to Hollywood, and started working for a big California bank. All this before August.
I'd skipped a grade in elementary school so I was a year younger than my college classmates. I went to a technological university with a freshman class of 1.000 -- of which fewer than ten were female. My freshman year was forgettable.
In my sophomore year a friend and I took the train to Poughkeepsie for a Vassar mixer. I can't remember my friend's name, but I met Mary that night.
Mary was blonde and bookish. She wore sweaters I thought too baggy. Her eyes were pale blue, and her top lip protruded a little. She was pouty and kissable. My father said she looked like Joan Fontaine.
Mary and I did a lot of things together -- went to hear Alan Ginsburg read his poetry, saw
The Graduate
at the Juliet, and
Hair
at the Cheetah. We liked the same movies, read the same books. We traveled throughout the UK and to Paris, often staying in my dorm room or a single hotel room.
One of the things we did not do together was kiss.
I saw Mary in her bra and panties when I was buying her a dress at Pierre Cardin. The Parisians are relaxed about closing dressing room doors. She wasn't skinny, but not fat. And she'd been hiding nice breasts beneath her sweaters. But other than this sneaky schoolboy glance, Mary and I would kiss briefly on the cheek when parting. I wanted more -- much more -- but I was too inexperienced and too young to know what to do. And Mary was even more awkward.
Meanwhile . .
Sometime in my junior year Jim, one of my fraternity brothers, drove to a mixer at a small college in Vermont. Once there he was scooped up by Deb, a first year physical education major. Deb isn't particularly attractive, but she was lively and athletic. You could tell she'd be enthusiastic in bed.
Jim is a geeky physicist.
Deb jumped him on their second date and she fucked him into near oblivion. Pumped with oxytocin, Jim was smitten. They are still together -- 40 years later. She's put on a lot of weight and has medical problems, but Jim is still smitten.
Jim visited Deb at her home in Connecticut during a school break. Deb's older sister, Mikki, was also there. Mikki is a mousy blonde with big eyes and bigger glasses, a thin tubular body, nice boobs, a nicer ass, and long, smooth legs. She attended a small girl's college somewhere near the Finger Lakes. She now wanted a fraternity brother of her own.
Jim had one of those 8 x 10 sheets that is made up of smaller photographs of all our fraternity brothers. He asked Mikki to pick out one that she liked -- and she happily did so. He also asked her to pick an alternate, and she picked me.
There was a scheduling conflict with Mikki's first choice -- Robb -- so I got the call, and was happy to step up. I only saw Mary every few weeks and didn't believe our odd, sexless relationship was monogamous. Mikki took the Greyhound to come and meet me.
Mikki is nowhere near as sparkling nor as intelligent as Mary. Mikki is loud. She's not a great listener. She'd also had botched plastic surgery a while back, and it left a scar on her face. It wasn't a big deal, but she kept trying to cover it with her hands and that only drew attention.
We had fun together on Saturday. Nice kiss when we parted. I'd put her up in the motel just off campus. On Sunday morning I went to fetch her for brunch -- but she was more interested in staying in the room. Into the room I walked, wagging my tail like a puppy.
I forget what we said to each other, but we ended up in the shower: she in bra and panties, and I in my jockeys. We kissed, lathered, and fondled each other, and then got out. The plan was to quickly take off our wet underwear and put on our street clothes, commando-style, before I saw a nipple or she saw my swollen cock. But once we'd taken off our underwear we both just stood there, looking at the other. It was like looking at something in a store window that we each really wanted to have.
No widow glass here. We spent the afternoon exploring each other on the bed, floor, and chair, but we'd agreed (or, more accurately, she announced and I acquiesced) that we wouldn't be fucking. We did lots of other things, all of them new and wonderful for me, and I made several clumsy attempts to mount her despite the agreement. The lady wasn't for fucking -- and I remained a virgin.
She almost missed the afternoon Greyhound back to her college. I walked back to the fraternity smiling, eager for our next date.
Two weeks passed, and Mikki took the Greyhound again.
We shared a pizza in a banquette at the Knotty Pine. She told me that she'd been on the pill for ten days now and she was ready.
I lived in a three-story Victorian house that was essentially an annex of the fraternity. There was a shared bathroom on each floor. Mikki and I went back to my room, drank some wine, and talked for what seemed like a long time. When it was finally time for bed, Mikki crossed the hall and used the shared bathroom. She came back wearing one of my t-shirts and got into my dorm size bed.
I went to the bathroom and came back wearing a smile. I lay down on the other side of the bed. My t-shirt was off Mikki and on the floor in 30 seconds. Her nipples were magical -- they rose to stiff attention when I cautiously scratched them with my fingernails. Her boobs were lickable and I eagerly did so. Nice areola, nothing scary. Her vulva was the most wonderful shade of pink. Mikki explained she liked to be spread and have her labia pinched. "Little pinches," she instructed. I happily pinched away.
I had no idea when it would be time for me to stop playing with the new toys and get up to fucking. How do I hold my weight above her -- or do I use her to partially support me? How would I guide my cock into the right hole? How far in would I go? How hard will it be to move my ass up and down? How do I keep my cock from falling out at the outer end of each stroke? Is my cock too small? And how long should all of this take?
