Back to why I have been recalling that summer so many years ago, to find a birthday present for my brother. I think I'll just send him this as a surprise. I'd better send it to his office, where he can find it without his wife looking over his shoulder.
I sent the many pages to him, wondering, very curious, about his response. Since I am a writer, he had over the years received large envelopes with texts that I thought he would find entertaining. Sometimes he had, sometimes he had not with comments that I appreciated. He had to find my idea of a present for his 60th birthday interesting, but how would he respond?
I waited, and waited. Was my recital of all we had done now too embarrassing? It hadn't been 42 year ago - after the first shock for both of us. Then I did get a reply from Tommy. We both still used the diminutive forms of our names that our parents had.
It was a long email, too long for him to have written it in one sitting, also too long for me to read without interruptions, When my husband asked what I was doing at the computer so long, I quickly clicked to my unfinished reply to a more recent one, left unfinished in anticipation of his coming to see what I was doing, since he was retired and around all day, most days. When he wasn't, getting a wine glass to finish what was in the bottle from the dinner the night before interrupted my reading, more often than I expected, not because Tommy's email was so long, but because I was always tempted to start at the beginning again. I might have wanted to make some of his sentences clearer, but there was a charming immediacy in his language.
Oh Jessie! What a birthday present that was! I was meaning what you sent me, but that one really was! Better not write the expletive I just thought. It was that. Did I thank you and Ann and Sue as much as I should have? Maybe I did, not with words.
Okay, if you could write about it like that, I hope I did without words, but with my mouth. Had you really helped them plan that, at least known what they had planned? With hindsight, I understood why we all should drink wine. Was I really a little drunk? Were you? Or did we all just need an excuse to let it happen? It sure did! At that age, the unexpected sight of their breasts and then yours would have made any kid do anything girls wanted.
Sure, I had problem looking at yours, but you were showing them to me. Did I really then in the bedroom lick and suck all your breasts. Did I wonder why their open beds had been pushed together? They always were after that, at least, when I or both of us were with them. I don't think that I wondered about that; I was too much wondering about why all of you - me too - had our shirts off.
And then skirts were off! Remember how their hair could be seen? Oh, a lot more is coming back to me. They had their panties off. No, first, I had to take my pants off. Was I embarrassed, but not yet bare-assed, but then we all were. I was appreciating that you didn't want to show me yours, but then they insisted. They were right; I could see yours a lot better. Even if was my sister's, there was nothing else a youngster could think about and want to do with his hand, especially when all of you also were.
Well, you know what happened. Don't think I had ever came like that before. If you want to know, a couple of times up on my shoulder, maybe some, that I had to deflect under the covers with my hand. You told me that I came five times? Can't do that now.
Yes, well, don't really have to tell you any recollections about how it was. Yours brought back memories that I had forgotten, should have forgotten But it was so good; not just what we did, but that you three had known that I needed it.
"Needed it" Of course I needed it, like any male would in that situation. What I mean is that you all understood that a young guy should know what you showed me. My girlfriend - what was her name? - didn't thank me directly, but when she eventually (wasn't going to use this language) sucked my cock, it was all thanks to you and Sue and Ann.
I shouldn't say it, but of those four, I always liked yours best. No, that is bass-ackwards, I was recalling that I had liked licking your pussy best. Now I have said that. Not just because you have so little hair, and because I could so many times at home that summer. And that you could! Have to be honest: when a girl want's do that - all the way - it is always good.
I was surprised, when you wanted to with Sue and Ann watching. I don't think they watched for long; wouldn't have mattered if they had. Would we have gone all the way with them watching? We didn't, but we sure did at home.
Oh, but I never really told you about my first year in college. You three were very right. Did I thank you later for having helped me so well? I hope so. But if I didn't, I do now, and will tell you how. I wasn't a young gentleman, you know: except that I didn't tell, like other guys were, bragging about having gotten to second base, then usually just smirking to suggest they had gone further. With my experience - thank you! - I didn't have to brag about that or later smirk.
Of course, some girls were shy, willing to kiss after a date, only after the second one. Well, I think they were all like that, but then some were eager to kiss better. Sounds like I dated lots of girls, not that many really, but after a hand on a blouse, and then inside it, and then ... If she agreed to come to my room - single room - or even suggested she wanted to see it, you can imagine what then happened. I don't think I was ever two-timing, if it sounds like it.
They all expected me to be on top, I guess a little to assuage their conscience, that they weren't showing the initiative, but they weren't saying no. Oh, a couple did, wanting to keep their panties on, but maybe only the first time like that. It depended on what they said when they were getting dressed again. Some seemed curious about holding a cock, maybe for the first time, some obviously not just curious, and some shy about doing that. I was, of course, wanting to do more than get to third base with just my fingers, if you understand, but I thought that would shock them, unless one wanted to do more than just hold my cock, but none of them did.
But then I was dating Christie: dinner, then a movie or two. She really wanted to kiss and almost seemed to be waiting for me to hold her breast, then encouraging me when I did on our second date. Not back to my room that night, but the next one, and she really wanted to, telling me she was on the pill. Had to use rubbers with most of the ones before her. She wanted me on top, but was a lot more active than any of the others had been, not just waiting for her arousal to make her rock her hips, drawing up her thighs and locking her feet behind my ass and - guess I'm going to have use the word - fucking with me.
That was just the first time. We still did something before we went to my room, but then ...! So I thought that I could venture to suggest what else I wanted to do. She was surprised, shocked, saying: "You want to do that, that's nasty." Didn't she lick her own fingers, I asked myself. I just used my fingers, and we fucked again, the first time we had twice. Did I lick my fingers? Can't remember.
So then the next weekend, a Friday evening, I went to meet her, planning that we would have a quick burger and return to my room. She lived in an off-campus house with a few other girls. She was waiting for me. As we were about to leave, another girl came out of the house with a couple of books and a notebook. She grinned and at us and looked at Christie and said: "I would."
I looked at Christie in surprise, who looked flustered, blushing. The other girl disappeared in the direction of the library. When I raised my eyebrows questioningly, about to ask what the girl's remark had been about, Christie gave me very wry little smile, then nodded back at the door to the house and said she'd tell me inside.
"Inside" was in her room with two beds and two desks. She closed the door and gave me another wry smile and said: "My roommate, Laura. Guess we don't have to go to your room."
I immediately understood that we could forgo the pretense of doing something before we would have gone to my room, liking my recognition that she also understood that having sex together was why we dated, as apparently her roommate also did, but why had she said that? I asked.
Christie blushed, then after a moment replied:
"She told me I should."
"Should what?" I asked.
"Let you do what you wanted to - last week."
This was a real surprise: girls talked more about what happened on dates than guys did! At least, Christie and Laura did, and Christie had told Laura that! And Laura had said that she would?! She would let me - well - a guy lick her pussy, and had gone to the library to let us! And Christie had said we didn't have to go out and taken me to their room and closed the door. She could have done something else. Did she want me to; what had Laura told her?
I must have had very quizzical expression on my face. Christie had a very wry one and shrugged and answered my unspoken question:
"Her older sister said it was good, better than what a lot of guys do."
I nodded; I knew that too. She smirked slightly and added: "I guess you have."
I nodded again, suddenly with a mental image of your pussy and wondering how hers would be. I knew, of course, that she had more hair. Christie smiled wryly with another shrug and began to unbutton her blouse. As we both were taking off our clothes, she murmured:
"It didn't sound like Laura has, that anyone has with her."
