Winning The Olympian Ch 04

When Tate walked in with her really cute haircut, her mom, Sally, and I looked at each other not wanting to give a hint of our just having sex five or ten minutes ago. And I think we didn't really know how to act.

Of course we both told her how nice it looked--and it really did look nice. But to make up for our awkwardness, I think we were both a little too exuberant in our admiration of her new style.

"Wow, you guys seem to REALLY like my haircut. I should get it cut more often," Tate said, to which we laughed since there'd be no hair left after a while. But again our laugh was heartier than the comment deserved, and Tate sensed something.

"Are you two alright? It seems like maybe you got some laughing gas or something. Weird," Tate said.

I'm thankful Sally immediately chimed in because I didn't really know how to handle the situation.

"Oh, yes, honey we're just fine! We just have enjoyed getting to know each other better. It's been a long time since I've really been with Jason. Almost like we never spent such time together before," Sally said and gave me a sidewise glance and wink which mercifully Tate didn't see. I thought it was kind of bold, but I think it was Sally's way of telling me she enjoyed our "time together," that I could relax, and that she would cover for us.

I must admit, though, I never looked at Sally the same way again--which is probably obvious. Some things seen cannot be unseen. Not that I wanted to "unsee" what Sally and I just did. It was just different and it would take some getting used to this new post-coital reality.

Sally went over to Tate and fussed with her new haircut admiringly, and they talked about how nice it was--Tate really liked it and so did Sally--and about how Tiffany was and Richard her husband, "Did you see him there, Tate?" Mom and daughter chit chatting about local news.

I watched mother and daughter and was struck anew how much alike they were physically.

As they chatted, I thought about Tate's and my last time having sex at her parents' cabin this summer--actually just last week. I often daydream about our times fucking, only this time, Tate and Sally were mixing up in my imagination. I had such recent, vivid images of Sally's beautiful body, and of course over the summer I had practically memorized Tate's.

We arrived back at the cabin after going to the grocery store in town to make ourselves a light dinner. As I unpacked the grocery bag, Tate came up to me from behind and started giving me a neck rub. She knew I find this pleasure very sensual, nearly erotic, and it's how she started our foreplay on many occasions.

I stood stock still as she massaged my neck muscles in back. Then she untucked my tee shirt all around and put her hands underneath to feel my bare back.

"Oh, Jason, feel these trap muscles, feel these shoulder blade muscles, feel these lats."

She kept massaging, and knowing where this was heading started getting me erect. There was a very pleasant buzz in my neck, shoulder and back muscles that mimicked the erotic buzz I was feeling in my cock as slowly I got hard.

Next Tate leisurely took off my tee shirt, rubbed my deltoids, biceps and pecs. When rubbing my chest, she gently pressed the finger pads of her index, middle and ring fingers of both hands on my nipples. This shot sensual bolts of pleasure through my body, connecting with the pleasure of my now nearly-hard cock.

She took her hands off me to remove her shirt and of course was not wearing a bra. Pushing her naked chest onto the bare skin of my back, I could tell her nipples were large, hard and erect. She rubbed her tits around my mid back moving her chest at times and at times letting go of my muscles and using her hands to grasp each breast and draw circles and lines up and down my back.

Then in my imagination, it was Sally behind me with her larger breasts tickling me with an erotic sensation by barely tracing her nipples. Since she was taller than Tate, and her breasts were larger, she could trace and rub larger areas. My skin got goosebumps. My penis got fully erect.

Next Sally started trailing her fingers up and down the sides of my chest and abdomen, a tickling sensation that drove me crazy with desire. Reaching around, she trailed her fingers on my abs then up my chest, pushing her chest into to my back, pressing me forcefully against the kitchen counter. I was very, very hard and had to adjust my cock so that it had room stiffen downward along my left thigh.

Noticing what I was doing and deducing I was adjusting my cock, Sally then pulled me toward her tightly with her right arm around my front while using her left hand to grab my rigid stiffness. She trailed her fingertips up the top of my cock, down the right side of it and up the left, then doing a figure of 8 along the whole shaft.

"Your cock feels so good to rub and outline with my fingers," Sally said in my imagination.

I could feel Sally's large tits squash into me, the nipples so hard they bored into my skin. I leaned backward and enjoyed the feeling of each entire breast smash onto my back.

Sally pulled back, hooked the thumb of both hands into the top of my gym shorts and boxers and slowly pulled them down. Slowly, slowly. She had to tug quickly to get the elastic waists to pop over my cock which sprang loose like a bent sapling being let go.

She pulled me fully away from the counter so that my cock was full mast pointing upward at a sharp angle.

I was rock hard and my cock was pulsating, bouncing perceptibly up and down with each heartbeat. I could see it bounce and as I watched I could FEEL each bounce as well. An incredible tingling pleasure encased my cockhead and especially the underside.

I leaned backward into Sally's chest pressing her tits even harder against my back and she moved in circles behind me, smashing her nipples even more deeply into my skin.

"Oh, Jason, I love the muscles of your back pressing so hard into my breasts."

We stayed in this position for at least a minute and Sally repeated over and over, "Jason, that feels so good! That feels so good!" as she used her hands to pull my shoulders even tighter against her.

Then she move her hands slowly down my pecs, down my abds and encircled my navel playing with the hair grown around it.

"Jason this is so masculine, you are so desirable," she said.

And then, still behind me, she suddenly she grabbed my balls with her left hand and my cock with her right hand, gently massaging my balls and slowly stroking my penis.

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I was in heaven. I didn't want it to end, but at the same time, I wanted to FUCK!

I wanted to fuck Sally--again!

I turned around and in my mind's eye, Sally had become Tate, a smaller, but no less beautiful version of her mother.

I pulled Tate's shorts and panties down to her ankles and she stepped out of them. Then I gazed at the beauty before me.

Tate's black hair--before her haircut of course--was long and cascaded down her neck and over her shoulders coming right up to the top of her breasts. These were gorgeously cream colored with dark tan lines from her bikini top worn outside all summer. They were a little larger than my hands could fully hold, and I began gently caressing them, like kneading stiff bread dough. When I grasped each nipple between my thumb and index finger and lightly squeezed, Tate sucked in air with a gasp and said, "Jason that is so incredible. Thank you, Jason. Thank you Jason."

Her nipples were as hard as pencil erasers and three times as big. I alternated between squeezing them and massaging her breasts.

Then she took my hands off her breasts. Kneeling down she grasped my cock with her right hand and my sac with her left and resumed stroking my shaft and firmly cupping my balls.

She slowly impaled her mouth with my cock. The head popped in when she reached the rim, which felt absolutely incredible. At that moment she then put the tip of her tongue on the peak spot of pleasure where my frenulum blended into the underside of cockhead. She wiggled the tip of her tongue rapidly and my knees suddenly buckled from the profound, intense pleasure.

"UUUUHHHHH" I moaned and could not help bucking my pelvis, forcing my cock deeper into her mouth, then gently pushing in and pulling out really slowly, face fucking her. She kept tight suction on my cock and her tongue knew the exact moves to keep my pelvic muscles in a sustained flex, forcing blood into my cock, swelling me harder and harder, bigger and bigger, tighter and tighter. My cock, while moderate size, felt huge with her mouth sucking more blood into it, sucking pleasure like streams into the head, engorging it, swelling the frenulum also bigger and bigger--the gripping pleasure more and more pleasurable.

Tate pulled her mouth off with a smack of her lips and said, "I want you to cum inside my pussy Jason. Will you do that? Will you paint the walls of my pussy with your creamy cum?"

As an answer, I pulled off all my remaining clothes, and Tate fully stripped as well. She took my by the hand and led me to the master bedroom where we had fucked so many times--where I had fucked my first time, where I lost my virginity inside her tight pussy.

"Lie on your back," she said. Which I did.

Then the picture of Sally, gorgeously naked, appeared befor me in my mind.

"Ready, tiger?" she asked, using Tate's sexual pet name for me, sounding just like Tate.

I nodded assent.

On her knees straddling me, she drove the stake of my cock into the warm rich earth of her pussy--as wet as a hot puddle in the sun lined by warm, slippery, smooth mud.

Sally slowly descended the escalator of my cock, one tiny step at a time. Near the bottom of my shaft, she suddenly dropped all her weight which just as suddenly shocked my erection with pleasure, as strong and instantaneous as a defibrillator discharging a jolt of electricity. My pelvis involuntarily jerked upward, lifting her many inches, wedging my cock even deeper into her warm, moist hole.

As my twitching pleasure relented a bit, Sally moved up and down at a moderate pace. She gradually picked up speed, bouncing off me as fast as a jockey in the Kentucky Derby, slamming down on me with each bounce. Up--slam, up--slam, up--slam, slapping her cunt against my pelvis, her thighs against my hips and her butt against my thighs.

Then--BAM! BAM! BAM!--it hit us both at the same time. I writhed and bucked uncontrollably in the vice grip of orgasmic pleasure, while she spasmodically clamped and released my whole cock with the walls of her vagina. My bullets of cum shot forcefully and hot into her pussy, piercing those walls with pressurized pleasure. She came so hard she bucked her pelvis forward with her clit skidding against my pelvic bone--held that for a few seconds and repeated it four or five times. Her legs squeezed inward, knees locking hold of both my hips. Her face was contorted in ecstasy as she let out loud moans. All while scorching pleasure shot through my cock with each projectile of cum, so unbearable that I had to rock my pelvis and body left then right and back, again and again and again

We came together for an impossibly long time in my imagination, me squirting and squirting and squirting--Sally turning into Tate as the glowing luminous pleasure continued on and on and on. I had to squeeze my legs together as if preventing myself from peeing, with pleasure as urgent and intense as a really really full bladder--with release and relief as piqued and sharp as letting it suddenly empty under the force of water through a hole in a dam.

Euphoria flooded my cock, my pelvis, my body with slowly subsiding ecstasy as Tate collapsed on top of me

It was like the last time Tate and I fucked before coming to Falls Creek.

It was like the last time I fucked Sally.

Hearing Tate and Sally pass local gossip, I turned, went into the guest bathroom, closed the door, turned on the faucet to hide any noise--and jerked off an amazing splintering orgasm.

Senior year in college brought it on. It didn't necessarily begin then. It just came to a head.

During each school year, our relationship suffered from the distance, but really that was just a reflection of the ambivalence I had toward Tate. On the one hand, I really did love her. But on the other hand, and at a deeper level, I know I was holding back. I would have loved to marry Tate. But I was becoming more aware of this retreating attitude.

Where did it come from? Tate was comfort, familiarity, support. She was always there, and looking back I think I took this for granted. For one thing, it meant I didn't have to dive into the college dating scene which was pretty limited at Whalen which was a small liberal arts college in a secluded rural area of the surrounding county. Emphasis on small. Emphasis on the middle of nowhere. It had a great reputation of turning out well-educated, well-rounded, competitive pre-professional students; for example the medical school acceptance rate of its graduates was 70 percent. Law school even higher. Good law schools too.

Which is why I went there. My dad was a dentist--is a dentist. I grew up helping him around his solo practice, mainly janitorial duties, but occasionally if he was treating a close friend of the family--and if they didn't mind--he let me sit in on procedures.

In my younger years I was close to my father. And that plus the office experiences convinced me that I wanted to be a dentist. I went to Whalen because in addition to pre-law and pre-med, pre-dent students were also quite successful.

Plus Dad went there too.

But as my father withdrew from my mother--and I noticed him paying A LOT of attention to his dental hygienists and less to mom. That was when my relationship with him started becoming withdrawn. I remained close to my mom. But at some deeper level, I think I rejected my dad. And part of that rejection--indeed strongly contributing to it--was his engrossing work as a solo dentist, his barely hidden flirtation with his staff of young, pretty women.

I later found out, when my mom deemed Kara and me old enough to understand, that Dad did more than flirt. And he did that more than once. Hence my parents' marriage began to crumble, mostly due to his behavior. Of course my mother must have also contributed--there's always two sides. But I was in denial about any of her flaws--emotionally I couldn't admit to them because that would fully rock my world. Dad's flaws. Mom's flaws. No, one of them had to be flawless and it couldn't be my dad.

All this contributed to rethinking my career in dentistry. I had imagined--and Dad even talked about--me joining him and taking over when he retired. At one point in my life that seemed idyllic. Later it did not.

But I also loved biology and especially enjoyed my college class in microbiology. Teaching micro as well as general biology at a small school like Whalen seemed very attractive to me. I'd have to go to grad school in microbiology, but it offered me an alternative to the career path I thought I'd pursue.

These things were happening while I was long-distance dating Tate. And I know they also contributed to my ambivalence about our relationship.

Add having slept with Tate's mother, Sally, and the ambivalence deepened, even though I truly felt love and connection to Tate. Again--she represented familiarity, comfort and stability which I no longer felt in my family rocked by acrimonious divorce.

As I think back to the Sink at Chatham, the night of the dance-a-thon, the night I first met Jill, I realize that these were the feelings I must have been unloading on her. Because, apparently according to Jill, I could tell her anything and everything.

Except one thing.

Sleeping with my potential mother in law.

And I don't see how I could ever get over that awkwardness, even though Sally treated me royally, like a family member, as if nothing had changed after our fucking each other. Give her credit. She is an amazing woman. Maybe at some level I wanted to marry

her

.

I visited Sally--I mean Tate--at Duque their homecoming weekend senior year. (Notice the Freudian slip?). I enjoyed Duque sports, although growing up I was more of a Chatham fan, and the two schools were fierce rivals, just 10 miles apart.

Tate was applying to law schools and she needed to know what I was going to do, where I planned to be after graduation. And I simply didn't know. I figured I could get a job anywhere. With my camp waterfront experience, I knew could always land a job as a year round life guard at a YMCA or a place like YLG--Your Local Gym. But this kind of thinking unsettled Tate because she knew that I would tire of such a job at some point and start considering grad school.

Looking back, I think she was right. As much as I love Terry as a boss and meeting new people, helping them learn how to swim--as much as I love all of that, I know at some point I will want more. In fact that feeling is starting to come into focus now, especially as I see what's possible, as I see what Jill has accomplished, as I am inspired by her.

So, five or six months after graduation--after Tate enrolled on a full ride at Duque law school--she could not take any more uncertainty. Her job after law school could be literally anywhere in the country. And without me pursuing a career that she knows would be finished at some definite point, she did not feel we could be together any longer. So she broke up with me.

Still, despite my ambivalence, it really hurt. I had lost not only my girlfriend, but my best friend since Camp Rocky Mount when were both 10.

After I jerked off, and after Sally and Tate finished off laughing about the gossip of Falls Creek, I walked back into the kitchen where they were now seated around the kitchen table.

I complemented Tate again about her haircut, and we recapped the day hiking with Sally. Although Sally would not have minded, I'm sure, we didn't go into detail about skinny dipping or my rock hard erection lying in the sun naked next to Tate. Sally asked how I liked the mountains and I told her I have always loved the mountains more than, say, the beach, because of my warm memories of summer camp in Swannanoa, in the Black Mountains.

We talked about everything--what we looked forward to at college and what we were afraid of. Tate looked forward to finding friends she could relate to at Duque. Translation: kids who could hang with her intellectually. And what she feared most was not the academics, but failing to find such friends. For me, I was looking forward to making new friends, but (being less intellectually brilliant that Tate) I was afraid of the workload since Whalen has a reputation for academic rigor.

Sally asked about Kara and my parents. Kara was fine, but my parents' marriage made me depressed, which I told Sally.

"Jason," she said, "even though your dad cheated on your mom and your family, he's still your father. You need to come to terms with that, learn to accept it so that with time it doesn't bring you down--so that you can look at it objectively as if examining, um, I don't know--as if holding up a glass and examining all sides of it. That won't be easy. Tate and I have a similar struggle with Doug, her dad. As trite as it sounds, it is what it is. Tate and I have even been to Asheville to get counseling about this, and I think it helped. What would you say, Tate?"