First of a two part series. It was a long weekend...
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Although I had been looking forward to this long three-day weekend getaway for several months, the pure strangeness of it all, as well as the excitement, had my mind whirling. Not to mention some intruding stirrings in my groin, my penis in a happy state of enchanted anticipation.
Sitting in a stretched-out lounge chair three feet to my right, looking very lovely in a white blouse and dark skirt, was my old friend Lenny's main high school girlfriend. Immediately to my left, in an Adirondack-style chair, was my old jackoff buddy, Lenny himself.
I hadn't seen Arlene, let along thought of her, in decades, and had only just recently gotten back in touch with Lenny through the dubious miracle of internet social media.
We were sitting, and reminiscing, on the redwood deck of his hideaway cabin in remote northern California, looking out over the grassy slope that led down to the river, shrunken now in summertime.
Lenny had invited me out, even offering to pay my air fare from New Jersey for chrissakes, for what he said would be a "splendid weekend of pleasure" up at his place.
I had had a grand visit the year before, and thrilling memories of a little old-time orgy still reverberated in my hopelessly wanton brain.
He had been vague on specifics with me this time, but when he wheeled the big black seven series BMW into his driveway after the three hour drive up from the San Francisco airport, I noted a white rental Ford Fusion parked to one side, so someone else was up for the weekend too.
Lenny had a small, subtle look of amusement on his face. I was totally taken aback to see Arlene greet us at the door.
"Rob!" she said, a big smile on her face when she gave me a hug, and then mentioned she had only come up earlier that morning herself before Lenny had left to fetch me. So she was already in on the scene.
Sitting there in the warm afternoon sun, filtered through the forest tree leaves, we were sipping our drinks and catching up. All of us were closing in on retirement, although Lenny's wealth management skills, some of which were perhaps even ethical, had gotten him, quite happily, there first.
Age had hit us all bit unevenly. Lenny had a sizable paunch and skinny white hairless legs that, with his shorts on, looked like they belonged to a stork, and he had filled out the big barrel chest of his German ancestors.
He had salt-and-pepper hair, nicely cut, and large peasant facial features that had broadened over time – lips, mouth, ears – although his eyes still had the steely glint of desire that they always had, ready for a sexual adventure of one sort or another.
I had thickened too, but I worked out regularly and was considerably trimmer, enough so, I admit, that I still found ways to admire myself in full length mirrors, clothed or not. I still liked watching my penis get hard in the mirror, it just didn't get enough practice anymore. The head hair had mostly gone, however, and what was left was close-cropped and all gray.
Arlene, I have to say, looked good – better than the rest of us anyway. She had never been slender, even in high school, but she hadn't packed on an unseemly amount of weight in the meantime and in fact looked zaftig and healthy. She was a half head shorter than Lenny, maybe an inch or so below me. Good sturdy northern European bones.
No makeup, or at least none I could discern. Her skin was white, quite smooth, and she may have dyed her hair, which was dark and soft with a little gray at the edges, on the short side, and it nicely framed her sweet moon face.
Her dark brown eyes were older, with some crow-lines at the corners, but her face was full and fresh looking. As I remembered from long ago, she smiled easily, with a sparkle in her eyes, always an enhancement to her looks.
Of course her chest was still magnificent, all held in place in her white cotton blouse, big breasts straining the buttons on her shirt. She had a glass in her hand with some sort of tequila drink, and she had just finished telling a story about her second husband, not exactly flattering to his memory.
My thoughts drifted back to the first time I had seen Lenny tail her, in the back seat of my family's Kingswood Estate station-wagon with the fake wooden panel sides I had been piloting late that April Friday evening way back.
Several times I nearly drove off the road since I could barely tear my eyes away from the rear view mirror, desperate to catch as much of the event as possible. I had wanted to park on a hidden side road or one of the pull-offs we often used for our other illicit activities, but Lenny had insisted I keep driving as his lust would not wait.
It seemed to me this was more dangerous than the slim chance that our mostly incompetent but still troublesome rural police would find us on a pull-off, but as usual, his will prevailed.
His silly white rump had been going pretty hard at the end of his little copulatory adventure, its rubbery flesh clenching away as he drove his prick into her, with Arlene laid out straight on the bench back seat, her dress pulled way up and her head on the right door armrest.
They surfaced after a few miles, Lenny with a big shit-eating grin on his face. He rolled down the window and tossed the sloppy, limp, sperm-filled condom out to land by the side of the road in our corner of backwoods New Hampshire where some poor prison roadside crewman would fish it up in his collection bag later that summer.
"You remember Bob Murdock in our class?" he had just asked Arlene suddenly, turning his head to look at me too.
"Big meathead?" I asked. "Red hair, dumb as a fencepost?"
"Yep," said Arlene. "What about him?"
"Remember his sister Dora?"
Arlene wrinkled up her nose. "Short? Chubby, but cute? I think she was a year ahead of us?"
"Right," said Lenny, "I never got her to fuck, but she took my prick in her mouth a good half dozen times. She'd let me come there but never would swallow my sperm. Always spit it out afterwards."
Arlene nearly choked on her drink.
"What! She sucked you? Dora? I don't believe it. Where?"
"In the car. Out on North Lempster Road, that secluded turn-out you remember."
"I remember very well," she made a face. "Sounds like you didn't keep 'our special place' all that special. After we broke up."
"Well, we'd broken up."
There was an awkward silence.
"Her tits weren't that big, but she had wonderful hard nipples," Lenny finally volunteered. "They were fun to fondle whether they were in or out of her shirt."
Another silence. Arlene appeared to be thinking.
"Her tongue was remarkably adept for a first timer," Lenny continued.
Arlene shot him a nasty look.
"Just how many other high-school girls did you fornicate with, anyway, back then?"
"Do you mean girls actually from Greenvale High? Or anyone during the Greenvale era?"
Arlene scowled. "Either, both."
