This all happened back when four teenagers could wander through an orchard on a warm summer afternoon without wearing masks and maintaining a social distance.
More than sixty years before, in fact. 1959.
Don't worry, though: age hasn't dimmed my memories of that day.
My boyfriend Dan's uncle owned a pretty big stretch of land upstate: a farm, actually. He hadn't been able to run it for a few years, but most of the trees were still bearing fruit, so family and friends drove up there occasionally in July to pick peaches, and in the fall to pick apples. Dan and I had gone up there last October in his parents' Ford, and we'd taken advantage of the privacy to fool around some. By which I mean, since it was 1958 and I was a "good girl," we kissed -- a lot -- and I let him touch my chest. Through my clothing, of course.
In the nine months since, we'd had very little "alone time" together, but he had managed to get me down to my bra and panties a few times and I
think
, one of those times when we were rubbing our bodies together, he orgasmed in his underwear. I was too embarrassed to ask.
Today's trip promised to be less eventful, though, because we were bringing along his cousin Anna and her boyfriend Pete. They were eighteen, same as we were, but a lot more innocent: I don't think they'd even kissed, either one another or anybody else.
Dan and I had already discussed coming back up here later in the month: there was a big lake on the property, and he'd been working on convincing me we should strip down to our underwear and have a swim the next time we were here.
(Though I half suspected once we were in the water, he'd try to talk me out of my bra)
We'd brought two bushel baskets with us, and Dan and I were filling one of them while Anna and Pete were filling the other one. We weren't calling it a race, but it really was.
We had an advantage: on a lot of the trees, the greatest number of peaches were high up, so Dan lifted me so I could grab them. This let Dan look right up my skirt, which put a silly grin on his face each time. He wasn't being very subtle about it, either, and his cousin and her boyfriend knew exactly what he was doing.
I was sure Pete was jealous as hell, and
not
because he and Anna had fewer peaches.
I'd kind of been been expecting this: I was wearing my prettiest panties.
By the time the bushels were half full, both guys had taken off their shirts. They both looked pretty good to me -- slim, tanned and sweaty -- but I was good and kept my eyes on my own guy (mostly).
Anna, I think, was not being as good, stealing obvious glances at her cousin.
At this point the peach picking was going a lot more slowly: we were hanging out more than picking, and probably eating almost as many peaches as we were picking. It was late enough in the season that the peaches were very ripe, very sweet, and very juicy. I took one bite that covered the area around my mouth with the sticky stuff. I looked around helplessly for something to clean my face with. There was a box of Kleenex back in the car, but that was a bit of a hike. I gave some thought to using the shirt tail of my blouse, but that seems kind of uncouth.
I did give it enough thought, though, to decide I could lift the shirt tail to my mouth without exposing my bra, just most of my belly. And I'd been wearing bikinis this summer, so I knew I had a nice tan.
But Dan made the decision for me by kissing me on the mouth, and then licking the area around my mouth clean. "Eww," Anna said under her breath, I think more in jest than anything else.
It was sexy getting licked like this, and I had a feeling Anna was thinking about taking a very sloppy bite of a peach as well.
About ten minutes later, I did it again. I figured ten minutes was enough time that it wouldn't look like I was doing it on purpose. But I had found Dan's kiss/licks arousing.
The second time, he "accidentally" brushed a hand across one of my breasts. And didn't seem to be in any rush to take it away. I didn't mind, but I took a quick glance over to Pete and Anna: I didn't want them to see Dan feeling me up. I needn't have worried: they'd moved about thirty yards away, and were kissing frantically. In fact, when Anna saw me looking,
she
became self-conscious, and took Pete's hand and led them back over to us.
We all chatted for a while, and picked some more peaches.
Then I bit into one that must have been over-ripe, and it just exploded. Well, not literally, but it burst open and there was juice and pulp all over my face and blouse.
I could already feel how uncomfortable the sticky blouse was going to get, especially since the day was still getting warmer. "I hope nobody minds," I said, "but I have to get this off."
Pete's eyes grew wide as saucers as I unbuttoned my blouse -- even though my bra was about twice the size of the bikini top I'd been wearing to the beach for the past month or so.
Anna unconsciously crossed her arms over her chest. Maybe she thought we'd expect her to take off her t-shirt next.
I was also a bit nervous about what I wanted to do next, but finally I gestured at my upper chest and told Dan some of the juice had dribbled down the front of my blouse. It took him a moment to
grasp that I was asking him to lick me there, between the cups of my bra.
Yes, it was kind of a naughty thing to ask him to do, especially with other people watching. But I guess I was in a naughty mood.
Dan didn't need to be asked twice. He had touched me between my breasts before, when I was wearing just a bra on top. This time he was combining kisses and licks, and we had an audience giving us their full attention.
He'd long since abandoned the pretense of cleaning peach juice off of me, and the attention he was giving to my cleavage -- and his hand on my ass, underneath my skirt, which Pete and Anna couldn't see -- was making me tingle. I barely thought about it when he shifted his attention away from my cleavage to my left breast, finally reaching the seam of the bra cup. And then in a quick move, he lifted the cup just enough that he could slide his tongue underneath, and touch my nipple with it.
I tried to suppress a gasp, and hoped the others hadn't noticed what he'd done. Or seen my nipple.
Well, they'd seen
something
: without taking her eyes off of us. Anna suddenly grabbed Pete's hand and clasped it to her own breast.
