Friday, July 05, 1968
Dear Mamó,
Last night there were fireworks over the lake, then some fireworks inside the cabin, if you know what I mean! Just kissing and cuddling, though. I know you were a fast girl when you were my age, but I haven’t fooled around a whole lot. I jacked off a couple of boys in high school, big whoop. And the guys at MIT aren’t exactly the type to sweep you off your feet—they’d be more likely to build a robot sweeper and then fall in love with that. They probably get a boner watching Rosie the Robot clean the Jetsons’ apartment on TV.
Anyway, I’m telling you all this because Kevin and I have shared some intimate moments, but I wouldn’t really classify them as sexy moments. The first time I showed him my tits, it was so he could pee on them. And then when I grabbed his dick, it wasn’t to jack him off—it was to make him pee on my face! I don’t know where my obsession with pee came from, but it’s all I’ve been thinking about these past couple of weeks. It’s wild that electrical impulses in our brains are what make us feel, and want, and love… Thinking about the mind can really blow your mind!
I’m so glad I can talk to you about this stuff. I can’t imagine what Gladys at the post office would think if she knew what I was writing in my letters to Grandma Julia!
Love,
Cassie ♡
Cassie enjoyed the ritual of folding the letter, sliding it into the envelope, licking the flap and sealing it closed, writing her grandmother’s address on the front, and finally licking the stamp and sticking it in the corner. She had experimented with writing the address before sealing the envelope, but then she had to lick too much glue at the end of the process and it made her tongue feel all gummy. Better to space things out instead.
She grabbed a wire basket of four empty quart bottles on her way out the door, then hopped into her VW Beetle and drove down the bumpy dirt access road, then turned right onto Route 25 and drove the two miles to Center Ossipee while the breeze whipped her copper-colored hair and rippled her white t-shirt. Her pert tits didn’t need much support, so she never wore a bra. Below the windline, she wore tight Levi’s cutoffs and a pair of scuffed white Keds. She did wear panties under her shorts, for those who are curious. Pulling into the Hitching Post Store as usual, she bounded up the front steps and announced her arrival with a creak-slam! of the screen door.
“Hiya, Charlie,” she chirped at the back of the geezer behind the counter as she plopped her basket of milk bottles down with a clink and a clank.
“Aftahnoon, Miss Cassie,” Charlie rasped over his shoulder. “Why don’t you come back heah an’ fill them yuhself?”
“Are you sure it’s no trouble?” Cassie asked uncertainly. “I didn’t think you’d let customers into your inner sanctum,” she teased.
“No trouble a-tall,” Charlie chortled. “Less work fuh me.”
Cassie flashed him a smile as she hefted the basket up again and walked around the counter to the sink on the side wall. As she began filling the first bottle, Charlie shuffled off into the back room. Cassie filled the second and third bottles without incident and had just started filling the last bottle when the water from the faucet slowed to a trickle. Cassie frowned and turned the cold water handle further, to no effect, then turned it all the way open. As she waited impatiently for the tiny stream of water to fill the bottle, Charlie re-emerged from the back room.
“Hey Charlie, what’s the matter with the water?”
“Ah, I, ah, flushed the toilet back theah,” he eventually admitted. “It always kills the watah preshah for a minute.”
Before Cassie had time to process this information and realize its implications, the toilet tank stopped filling and an enormous volume of water gushed out of the sink faucet, splashing off the rim of the bottle and spraying all over the place.
“Shit!” Cassie swore, and fumbled with the handle until she managed to turn off the water. Her arms were soaked and covered in goosebumps. That water was cold.
Charlie guffawed, despite himself. Cassie whirled around to bark at him, not realizing until too late that the front of her white t-shirt was also soaked. Her tantalizing tits were clearly visible through the wet cotton fabric, and her perky pink pebbles proudly poked out. Charlie gasped and wheezed and turned bright red while Cassie quickly crossed her arms to cover herself.
Charlie coughed a few times and eventually regained control of himself while Cassie tapped her foot, annoyed. Once she knew he wasn’t going to die of a heart attack, she softened and asked wryly “So, Charlie, did you enjoy the show?”
“Miss Julia, wait—” Charlie began to protest.
“Oh, it’s all right,” Cassie interrupted him with a laugh. “It was an accident. Accidents happen.” Then it hit her. “Charlie, did you just call me Julia?” she demanded.
Charlie scratched his head. “Did I?”
“You definitely did,” Cassie pressed him. “Now why would you make a blunder like that?”
“It, ah, it was nuthin’.”
Cast smirked. “That’s a load of bull. Out with it!”
Charlie sighed. “All right, all right. It musta been thirty yeahs ago now. When the Campbells first bought the cabin, they asked me to delivah some supplies. So I drove up theah and walked up to the pawch, and what do I see but…”
“But…?” Cassie prodded.
“But those two goin’ at it on the couch, Lloyd and Julia, with her on top, naked as a jaybird! When she saw me, she didn’t stop, she jes’ looked at me an’ smiled an’ kept goin’.”
“Jiminy Crickets!” Cassie burst out. Intrigued, she asked “So what did you do?”
Charlie’s face began turning red again.
“Come on, Charlie. You can tell me.”
“I, ah, dropped my pants and…”
“And?” Cassie raised an eyebrow.
“I, well, I tugged the slug, if you take my meanin’.”
“You’re telling me that you stood there and jacked off watching my Grandma Julia have sex through the window?”
Charlie shrugged. “Yuh grammaw was a beautiful lady. And I have to say, yuh the spittin’ image of huh.”
“The spitting image,” Cassie repeated with a tart smile. She paused, unraveling a tangle of twisted thoughts in her mind.
“Miss Cassie, I, ah, I really need to wash my hands. Theah’s no sink back theah,” Charlie stammered as he nodded his head towards the back of the store.
A devilish smile crept across Cassie’s face. “Now Charlie, are you telling me you got pee on your hands?” she scolded him like a teacher in a one-room schoolhouse.
“I— I—”
“Show me,” Cassie said sternly, her arms still folded across her chest.
Charlie held out his left hand, and Cassie did indeed see a small wet trail shining between his index and middle fingers. Keeping her left arm in front of her chest, she took his soiled hand in her right hand and whispered “Let’s clean you up.” Bringing his horned hand to her face, she extended her pointed pink tongue and ran it between Charlie’s fingers, savoring the sharp taste of his urine. “Mmm, so tasty!” she cooed.
Charlie was flabbergasted. “Miss— Miss—”
“Now Charlie,” Cassie crossed her arms again and resumed her scolding. “Did you shake your ding-a-ling dry when you finished, or did you drip some pee on your undies?”
“I— I—”
“Show me,” Cassie the schoolmarm ordered, her eyes flashing fire.
Charlie slowly undid his leather belt, unzipped his fly, and pulled down his faded green work pants to reveal his tighty-whities with a small wet spot front and center.
Cassie sank onto her haunches and placed her hands on Charlie’s thighs, revealing her stiff little titties through her wet t-shirt. Eyeing the bulge in his Fruit of the Looms, she murmured “Let’s clean you up.” She flicked her tongue across the damp spot, feeling the head of his dick through the cotton fabric. Never breaking eye contact with his block and tackle, Cassie hooked her thumbs into the waistband and eased Charlie’s briefs down, revealing his dick as it stirred from its sleep. Without further delay, Cassie leaned forward and licked the tip of his dick, worming her tongue into his piss hole and worrying out the last drops of his salty pee.
“Oh, Miss— Miss—”
Cassie looked up at Charlie, and he goggled at the sight of her bright green irises and the snow white lunes below them. “Charlie, I’ve never sucked a guy’s cock before.” Charlie gaped at her. “I think I want to try it with Kevin, but I’d like to get some practice first so I know what I’m doing.”
At that moment, they heard the clip-clop of footsteps approaching, and Cassie ducked below the counter while Charlie positioned himself behind the cash register. A woman opened the screen door with a creak and held it open as she removed her sunglasses.
“Excuse me, sir, is this the road to Effingham?” she inquired from the doorway.
“Jiminy Crickets, lady,” Cassie thought silently. “Get lost! I’m trying to get a mouthful of Charlie’s effing ham.”
“Y-Yes, ma’am,” Charlie croaked as he pointed north. “Jes’ take the next right, can’t miss it.”
“Thank you so much,” the out-of-towner replied with a smile, then gently closed the screen door and left again.
Charlie closed his eyes and exhaled with relief.
“So, Charlie,” Cassie casually picked up their conversation where they had left off. “Will you help me practice? Will you let me suck your cock?”
Charlie nodded slowly. “In the back room. On one condition.”
Cassie giggled. “And that is…?”
“If yuh let me call yuh Julia,” he mumbled.
“Oh, Charlie!” Cassie’s musical laugh rang out. “You can call me whatever you want. Cassie, or Julia, or Rita effing Hayworth if that’s what floats your boat.” She sprang up and took his hand, practically dragging him into the back room as he held his pants up and stumbled along behind her.
Settling onto her haunches again, Cassie lost no time in fluttering her tongue below Charlie’s glans, tickling it and causing his slumbering erection to grow into lumber. Taking it in her hand, she slowly jacked him off for a minute while continuing to lick all around the head. And then she took the plunge, sinking her lush lips over the crown of Charlie’s crabbed cock and marveling at the feeling of having a man’s dick in her mouth.
“Oh, Julia,” Charlie moaned, threading his fingers into her tangle of flaming red hair and gently thrusting his hips.
“Mmm,” Cassie hummed encouragingly, allowing his cock to slide further into her immaculate mouth.
“Julia, I can see yuh teats through yuh shirt,” Charlie muttered, lost in a waking dream. “Through yuh window.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Cassie affirmed as she worked her slick, pouting lips up and down his shaft. Pulling off for a moment, she asked “Would you like to blow your load on my tits?” while continuing to stroke his wizened wiener with one hand. “That would be all right with me,” she added with a puckish smile before returning to sucking his pecker.
After a few more minutes, Charlie’s knees began to buckle. Cassie grabbed his ass to steady him, continuing to piston her mouth on his stiff prick.
“Oh, Julia,” Charlie groaned. Cassie quickened her pace until with a yell, the old buzzard began pumping his sizzling hot jizz into Cassie’s gizzard. She nuzzled his grizzled nozzle, guzzling his spuzz until she began to sputter and gag. Charlie yanked his crank out of her mouth and beat his meat furiously, braying loudly and blasting Cassie’s sodden t-shirt with three decades’ worth of longing, figuratively, and three huge spurts of sperm, literally.
Cassie coughed and cleared her throat a few times before looking down to assess the damage. “What a load, Charlie!” she beamed. “Grandma Julia would certainly be flattered by this.”
“I should say so,” Charlie agreed with a gurgling chuckle. “I couldn’t tell yuh how many nights I’ve pounded my peckah thinkin’ about huh.”
“I’ll be sure to let her know. Now, before I go, I want you to take a good long look and etch this image in your mind.” Cassie arched an eyebrow before continuing. “And if you think of me, or Julia, or Rita Hayworth with your load on her tits while you jack off every night, I’m sure none of us would mind.” And with that, she stretched the front of her shirt, lifting it to her lips and slurping up all the slimy cum pooled there while Charlie ogled her bare boobs. When she had finished her second breakfast, Cassie lowered her cold, soggy shirt over her petite tits, gave Charlie a peck on the cheek, then gathered her bottles and sashayed out the door with a creak-slam!
Placing the bottles in her car, she grabbed a long-sleeved chambray shirt out of the back seat and quickly threw it on before anyone saw her, then buttoned it most of the way up and turned back the cuffs. She drove to the post office, dropped off her letter, then tore out of there like A.J. Foyt at the Brickyard.
“Jiminy Crickets,” she laughed out loud as she raced back to the cabin. “I’d better start writing tomorrow’s letter as soon as I get home before I forget anything!”
☮☮☮
Saturday, July 20, 1968
Dear Mamó,
I’ve been thinking about repeating decimals this week, and I noticed something really cool.
Here’s an example: 1/27 = 0.037037037… and 1/37 = 0.027027027… You get the other number repeating in a block of three digits. This happens because 27×37 = 999, three nines.
Here’s another one: 1/41 = 0.024390243902439… and 1/2439 = 0.000410004100041… You get the other number repeating in a block of five digits. That’s because 41×2439 = 99999, five nines. This also works with 123 and 813, as well as 271 and 369.
I haven’t worked out the details yet, but my slide rule’s been getting a workout testing out various factor pairs. I’m certainly keeping myself busy!
Kevin keeps busy with work during the week. He’s the handyman for at least a dozen families as well as two camps across the lake. He has a small cabin at the boys’ camp and drops by the girls’ camp on a set schedule to take care of things there. Needless to say, when he sees me after work, it’s always at my place. I’ve sucked his cock nearly every night since my “date” with Charlie, and Kevin’s been eating my pussy, too!
All right, I need to wind up this letter before the post office closes at noon. Bye for now!
Love,
Cassie ♡
After stopping in at the store and the post office, Cassie drove home and was delighted to see Kevin’s Chevy pickup in the yard. She flounced up onto the porch and called “Anybody home?” through the screen door.
Kevin laughed from inside and said, “Please come in. Don’t be shy.”
Cassie placed her shopping bag on the zinc kitchen counter and peered down the crack of Kevin’s ass as he knelt under the sink, clanking with a pipe wrench. He wore a red ringer t-shirt and Levi’s jeans.
“You know, most creeps who break into a lady’s house don’t bother to fix it up.”
“Well, I’m not most creeps, and I have a key to your house and half the houses on the lake, remember?” Kevin gave the wrench a final turn and sat back. “I think that leak around the drain should be okay now.” Finally turning to look at Cassie, he said “Wow, did you wear that into town?”
Cassie looked down at the green bikini top covering her small, firm tits and the tight Levi’s cutoffs hugging her intimate curves, then did a twirl. “Yeah, do you like it?”
“I bet Charlie liked it!” Kevin laughed. “And possibly Gladys, too.”
“You could be right,” Cassie mused. “So, what’s the plan for today?”
“I thought I could take you to see the Old Man,” Kevin suggested.
Cassie blanched. “Y-You want me to meet your father?”
“No, no, soary,” Kevin laughed. “The Old Man of the Mountain. You know, the square-faced guy you see on some of the road signs?”
Cassie smiled, relieved. “Oh, the big granite Frankenstein head. Sure, why not? We can bring a picnic lunch.”
“I have a cooler full of ice in my truck, loaded with beers and sodas.”
“Great! Should we take my car, though? The radio in your truck is busted.”
“Good point. I’ll go move the cooler into your back seat,” Kevin agreed as he headed for the door. Cassie whipped up two fluffernutter sandwiches and sliced some cheese, then grabbed a box of crackers and a couple of apples, stuffing everything into a picnic basket as Kevin returned.
“Here, Kevin, if you take this out to the car, I’ll get a blanket and then I think we can go.”
“Gotcha, Cass.” He stopped for a second. “Hey, what is your name short for, anyway? Cassiopeia?” he teased, with the emphasis on pee.
“You’d better hope it isn’t short for castration, buddy,” Cassie retorted while pointing the cheese knife at his groin.
“Yikes. That would be nuts, eh?”
“Or the lack thereof.”
“So, is it Cassandra, then?”
“It’s Catherine,” she sighed, spelling it for him. “C-a-t-h-e-r-i-n-e. My parents loved the name but realized too late that people were going to shorten it to Cathy or Cath, which they hated, so I’ve been Cassie ever since I was a baby.”
“It’s cute, I like it. Cassie sounds like a fun chick, but Cathy sounds like a stick in the mud.”
“Sassy Cassie,” she laughed as she fetched a blanket from the couch.
“Classy Cassie?” Kevin suggested.
“Shake-your-ass-y Cassie,” she said over her shoulder with a giggle as she walked past him with a wiggle and a jiggle.
“We have a winner!” Kevin declared, smacking her cute bum and following her outside.
As they drove north on Route 16, Kevin leaned back over the seat and opened the cooler. “Want a beer, babe?”
“Oh, it’s babe now?” Cassie laughed. “No thanks, but I’ll take a soda. Whattaya got?”
Kevin fished a bottle opener out of his pocket, popped a top, then returned with a bottle of Squirt and a can of Molson Golden….
