It was a Wednesday night in May. I was sitting on my bed, in the dark, in a funk, eyes unfocused, gazing pointlessly out my window, reflecting on my ex-boyfriend. I’d dumped him after discovering he was getting blowjobs from Carly, the homeroom slut. Other than the fact that she’d do it for any boy that asked, I couldn’t comprehend why Craig would indulge with her when he “loved” me, and I did everything he wanted. Blowjobs were routine for us. I’d even let him fuck me in the ass. That was one time only, no more of that for me. But at least I’d let him try it. How many high school girlfriends would even do that? Carly the slut maybe. But what’s done is done. He was history. I had to stop thinking about him.
Right about then, a flash appeared from an upstairs window in the house next door. It was Mr. Grimes’ bedroom window. Looking closer, I saw him observing me through binoculars, well maybe not me directly but my window. With the room dark, I knew he couldn’t see me, but he was trying. How long had that been going on? What had he seen? I almost never closed my shades. He might have seen me and Craig doing it some afternoon when my parents were still at work. He did keep odd hours.
My first thought was what a pervy thing to do. Then, the more I thought about it and what all he might have seen, I began to get weirdly turned on. I mean, Mr. Grimes was kinda hot, in an older man sort of way. He was probably thirty, or even a bit more I guessed. I knew him because I was friends with his wife, Katy. I really liked her and was totally stunned when she was killed in a car accident. Mom, Dad, and I went to the funeral.
That was only six months ago. I expected he still really missed her, a lot. We had gotten to know each other last summer. They were new neighbors. Their house has a pool, so when I saw her laying out, I kinda invited myself over. She was super friendly. Calling her Mrs. Grimes, I introduced myself, she immediately said, “I’m Katy, forget the missus. Love your bikini! Feel free to come over anytime. I work from home so I’m here mostly.”
“Thanks!” I said. “I like your suit also.” Thinking, I wish I had her boobs instead of my barely-there, barely B’s. Her top barely covered her nipples and the bottom barely hid her lady bits.
“So, how old are ya Lori? Where do you go to school?”
“I’m seventeen, will be a senior next year at Fairmont High.”
“Plans for college yet?”
“Probably will go to State. I’m sure to get a scholarship. Money is a big consideration and besides, it’s a great university.”
“And quite the party school also. I went there, graduated six years ago, almost seems like yesterday… Anyway, you won’t be sorry. What are you going to major in?”
“I want to be a teacher. Probably high school science. I love biology and related technology.”
The conversation went on from there. To my surprise, we quickly became really good friends. She was so open about her life, especially college. The more we talked, the more she told me about her college life. It seemed like she was reliving her past.
On my fourth or fifth visit, she started telling me details about fraternity parties she’d attended. I’m talking sex details—guys she’d had sex with and what they did together. I was shocked that she’d tell me, little miss seventeen-year-old from next door, and, at the same time, thrilled. I mean turned-on, dripping into my suit bottoms, thrilled.
I’d lost my virginity, with my then-boyfriend Marc, only a year and a few months before all this. One afternoon, soon after Katy had related a particularly hot fraternity encounter, Marc and I had a particularly hot encounter of our own. Afterward, he laughingly asked if I was possessed. I told him he excited me so much that I’d gone a bit crazy. That was kinda true; it wouldn’t have been cool to tell him about my conversations with Katy. That could be a book title. It would be a terrific book, bestseller probably.
I believe talking with her that summer changed my life for the better. For the first time a grown, married woman painted a picture of her life in my mind. She was full of joy and passion mixed with a bit of sadness and regret. It gave me a new-found hope for my future, tempered with the realities of everyday life. Her passing hit me hard.
Back to Mr. Grimes, Greg as I came to know him. I continued to go over to their pool after Katy’s death. I’d asked him if it was okay; he told me it was fine but just when he was home, which was mostly on the weekends. At first, he was quiet, reserved, withdrawn even. Slowly, he began to open up and engage me in conversation. It was nothing like with Katy. I don’t think he knew exactly how to take me. He clearly enjoyed me being there. I’m sure he thought he’d hidden his sly, artful glances at me. I must admit to always wearing my skimpiest bikinis whenever going over there. Make the most of what you have Katy used to tell me.
I also must admit my fantasies about Greg, sexual fantasies. Katy had never gone into much detail about their sex life. I tried prompting her once by saying, “Looks like you did good in the husband department. He’s a very handsome guy.”
“Yeah, he’s a really great guy,” she replied. “We get along great. He makes me very happy.”
“I hope to get that lucky someday.”
“Of course you will. Just don’t be in a hurry. Falling in love can be easy; staying in love is another matter.”
She had more to say at different times, but it was never about their sex life, at least no lurid details. It was always things like what a super guy he was or some of the thoughtful things he did to make her happy, but never anything about between the sheets—those were the details I wanted to hear, especially after everything she’d told me about her college days. Assuming it was because it was real life for her now, not past history, I never pushed it. That was totally understandable.
She also asked about me, my life in high school and eventually about my sex life. I told her everything from losing my virginity to the present day. Not much to tell compared to her, but at least I’d really enjoyed my deflowering and everything that followed. No shrinking violet me when it came to all things sex.
Back to my voyeur. I knew he wasn’t a perv. That was just my reflexive thought of someone peeping at me. Probably, if anyone was a perv, it was me for having the thoughts I did about him. I had fantasized about him from the very beginning. The swimsuit he wore was tight, leaving not much to the imagination—he was obviously well-endowed. I’d lay in bed at night, my fingers rubbing excitedly, and visualize him between my legs, fucking me silly.
After being at the pool the better part of a Saturday afternoon, I told Greg, “I need to go home and shower. I have a date tonight and want to be sure I look ravishing for him. I’d really like to come back tomorrow afternoon if that’s okay with you?”
“That’s fine. I really enjoy you being here. Katy told me about how you guys talked. She liked you very much, reminded her of herself when she was your age. She was lucky to have known you. I’m glad we are friends. We are friends, right?” he asked in a hesitant way.
Not missing the boner he was sporting, I said, “Of course we’re friends, good friends. I really hope I get to know you better.” If he could read my thoughts, he’d know just how good I wished our friendship was. He’d also know I wondered just how much Katy told him about me from our conversations. With that, I grabbed my things and headed home.
So, the question was, how to get him to look at my window at a time I could count on, so I didn’t have to wait around peeping at his house to see if he was peeping at me. I hoped he would put two and two together and come up with I’d soon be undressing and dressing in my room. A wonderful time to peep.
Turns out he could add. Taking a shower right after getting home, I came back to my room wrapped in a towel. Having left the blinds about half-open, I stood in front of the window, let my towel drop, and adjusted the blinds open and closed, like I was trying to find the perfect position for them. He was faintly visible, standing back from his window, binoculars to his eyes.
Leaving them more than half open, I bent down, with my butt to the window, and retrieved the towel. While drying my hair I moved from side to side, giving him a perfect view of my body. Moving away, I finished getting ready. Since we were both on the second story of our homes it seemed reasonable that he could see me moving around the room, but probably not have the clear view I gave when close to the window.
I’d always had the instinct to cover my boobs and pussy. Consciously or unconsciously, it’s cultivated in us by family and friends. This day was different: reveling in showing off, thinking of him watching me and getting hard at the thought of me, wondering what fucking him would be like. Sensing my wetness, I ran my finger between my folds, caressing my clit, tasting my goodness. Damn, I was being so naughty, and it felt so good. I knew John, my date for the night, would enjoy the fruits of my wickedness—another possessed night was in store for him.
We went to a party at a school friend’s house. Music, punch, snacks, someone smuggled in a bottle of vodka, so the punch had a kick. As the night wore on people started to pair off, if they weren’t already together. We grabbed an overstuffed lounge chair where I straddled Craig. We made out as he played with my boobs and I lap-danced his cock.
Before long we definitely needed the real thing, so we went to our favorite, hidden-away parking spot, jumped in the back seat and went to town. He apparently thought I was once again possessed, since he later said, “Doin’ it like a banshee” were his exact words. What he didn’t know was the whole time thoughts of Greg were running through my mind—I had it bad.
He had me home a little past midnight. Letting myself in, I quietly went up to my room, turning off the lights my parents always left on for me. I was hoping against hope that Greg might be awake looking for me. My thought was that, if he was really interested in seeing more of me, he might figure this would be the perfect time to see me change into something to sleep in, like a tee shirt and panties.
Peaking out my window, there he was, silhouetted, sitting in a chair. Excellent! I was in the mood for this. I opened the blinds fully, turned on the other two lights in my room and grabbed my phone and earbuds. A few clicks and the Eurythmics’ “Sweet Dreams Are Made of This” was banging in my ears.
I put on a show for him. Moving to the music, first my cami came off and then my shorts. I was hot. His boner was burned in my memory. My bra sailed across the room and I grabbed my tits, stretching them out, rubbing and pulling them as my hips gyrated. Turning and turning, finally my panties came off, two fingers went in, facing the window, I fucked myself until I came and spun out of sight. If that didn’t get to him nothing would.
Laying on my bed, panting for breath, and licking my goodness from my fingers, I was thrilled about what I’d done. Where I found the nerve, I wasn’t sure. What his reaction would be, I could only ponder. Sleep was a long time coming that night.
The next day, upon waking, I looked out the window. Greg was by the pool, in his tight swimsuit, working on his laptop. He was a founding partner in a medical-related startup company, Katy had told me. Hence his long and odd hours.
After talking with my parents a bit: yeah, I had fun last night, lots of friends there, no I didn’t do any drugs, yada, yada, yada. I put on a bikini and went next door to the pool.
Greg looked up as I got close. “So, did ya have a good time at the party? You’re looking good today. Have a seat,” he said, as he pulled out the chair next to him.
“Thanks!” What all did he mean by that I wondered? “Yeah, it was fun. Someone put vodka in the punch, so I got a little buzzed, not much but a bit.”
”I guess you don’t have much opportunity to consume alcohol at your age. That’s a good thing.”
“I dunno, maybe. I don’t plan on becoming an alcoholic, a pot-head maybe, but not an alcoholic,” I said laughingly.
“Do you smoke much pot?” he asked, with a somewhat disapproving look.
“Not really. My boyfriend gets it. So only when I see him and not every time. We did share a joint after the party. At our own private party,” I said with a mischievous grin, hoping he’d ask for details.
“What’s a ‘private party’ exactly?”
Well, here goes, I thought, wondering where it would lead. “Well, last night it was going to our favorite parking spot, making out, and having sex.” I couldn’t bring myself to say fucking.
“Well, he’s a lucky guy. You’re a beautiful, dare I say hot, girl.”
“Thanks! I appreciate you noticing. I agree, I am hot!” Thinking, And I want to fuck you, dumbo!
“That show you put on last night pretty much confirmed that,” he said with a grin.
Oh god, he took the bait. I wished I could see his crotch—I knew he had a hardon, but the table hid it. “So, you saw my little dance…”
“Oh yeah. It was quite… tantalizing. Too bad I’m almost twice your age.”
Staring in his eyes, I retorted, “So what?” What I really wanted to say was, what’s the big deal, I just want to fuck, not marry you, but I went on, “What if I was twenty-two and you were thirty-five? You’d be on me like white on rice.”
“Probably. But you’re not twenty-two,” he said with a hint of reluctance.
I turned my chair towards him and spread my legs. His eyes couldn’t help but look. I was really into this now. “See that wet spot? That’s because of you. That’s for your taking.”
“Oh jesus Lori… You’re really making this very hard.”
“Speaking of hard, turn your chair towards me. If you don’t have a hardon, I’ll stop right now and never mention it again.”
“You know I do,” he said slowly and softly.
The way my chair was turned, no one, like neighbors, could see what I did next. Pulling the strings on my bikini bottoms, the front flap dropped, exposing my furry triangle and bare lips. Running my finger between them and bringing my juice to my lips, I said, “Can’t you imagine how good it would be to fill me with your cock, to taste me with your lips?”
“Tie up your strings and let’s go inside. I think we need a cold drink.”
“That’s not all we need, but it’s a good start.”
Yes! The power of the pussy. It had always been the guy seducing me, telling me what he was going to do, what he wanted me to do. Now I had the power. I never totally figured out where I got the gutsy nerve to say and do the things I’d just done, but I’ve never lost it either.
We walked into the kitchen and came face to face, our eyes locked, in anticipation I hoped. Neither of us spoke. I’d guessed his suit was a Speedo. It came halfway down his thighs and was skintight. It fully outlined his cock, which laid down his right thigh. I gently grasped it.
“I knew it was big and thick. You know this suit shows it quite well don’t you? Besides, Katy as much as told me. Oops, sorry I mentioned her right now.”
He laughed. “I think we’re a bit beyond being concerned about that,” he said as he untied the string around my neck. The two triangles fell; my boobs were exposed, my nips hard as his cock.
His palms moved in circles, always in contact with them. God, the feeling of his touch, I could hardly stand. Then he squeezed and pulled me to him as he rolled them between his fingers. I kissed his neck and extracted his cock from the tight suit—it was perfect, bigger than any I’d seen before. I knew how much I’d be stretched and filled, propelling me to much-anticipated pleasures.
“Let me suck you,” I whispered and began to sink down, bringing his suit with me.
Taking him into my mouth, he murmured, “Oh god that’s so good. Your mouth is perfect.” His fingers entwined my hair, gently guiding me back and forth. I relaxed and let him take control. He moaned out his pleasure as my lips and tongue worked their magic. When I tasted his precum he pulled me away. “A few more seconds and you’d have been tasting my cum.”
“And I’d have loved it. All your cum must be in me, pussy or mouth. I want it all.”
“Your wish is my command,” he said with a big smile.
Chuckling, I said, “I command you to take me to bed and fuck me! But first, my good knight, you must eat my pussy ‘til I cum.”
“Such difficult tasks you set for me,” he said, as he swept me into his arms. “How shall I ever be able to complete them?”
“I can envision a number of attempts, but I have faith in your determination, even if it takes months and months.”
With that, he scooped me up in his arms and took me upstairs to the bedroom, where he tossed me on the bed like I was a feather. My suit, the strings having apparently been pulled loose as he carried me, dropped off as I flew. He quickly followed me down and proceeded to follow orders. His mouth did things to me I’d only imagined. In minutes I was clawing the sheets, reveling in passionate rapture, as my body trembled in orgasms.
After begging for his cock, he abandoned his oral attempt to drive me mad and made a few quick moves that positioned him inches from my soaking pussy. With my legs spread wide and his knees on my thighs, I closed my eyes as my dream was about to come true. Then, a loud, squishy smack occurred as he whacked my clit. My eyes flew open as the wave of pain and pleasure roiled through me. My eyes focused just as his cock struck a second time.
“What the— “A third blow fell. The pleasure began surpassing the pain.
“Never had your pussy spanked I guess…” Smack, smack!
“No,” I gasped out. “This is— “ Smack, smack! “Oh fuck, you’re going to make me cum if you keep it up.”
“That’s the general idea.” Smack, smack!
“Oh god, just do it, do it! Pound my fuckin’ pussy! I love it.”
His slapping ran pulse after intense pulse of sexual energy through me, all building to a certain orgasm. When it happened, it overran me like a flooding river. I’d never experienced one so strong. This revelation to the thrills spankings could present would soon lead to further enjoyment.
My puss was soaked. He wasted no time covering himself with my essence and slowly sliding in. Oh god, once again it was a feeling I’d only imagined. How easily I stretched, feeling every bit of him. Every inch registered in my brain as if I’d never had a cock before. Then the fucking started. Cumming time after time, they seemed like one rolling into another. It couldn’t have been that quick, but my brain was in a fog, lost in orgasmic feelings. Then he grabbed my hips, rolled me over and lifted me to my knees. Plunging back in, it started again. Damn! I felt out of control. I was out of control. He had me in his thrall, bending my body to his will.
Time lost again, transported to an unknown euphoric world. He had driven me to it, and I loved it. Then, when I actually thought I might pass out, he stopped and flopped on his back. I returned to reality to hear him say, “Your turn my girl. Get on top when you’re able and finish this. Make me fill you as you wanted.”
After catching my breath, I said to him, “You know I will.”
“I’m counting on it sweetie.”
Straddling him, I guided his cock into me, sliding slowly down it. His hands clutched my tits, tweaking my nips and holding me up as my hips began to rock back and forth. Christ! My clit rubbed on him with every movement of my hips—I came quickly. If he hadn’t been holding me, I’d have fallen forward. This time I drove myself into overwhelming bliss. Soon I felt his thigh muscles tense. He squeezed my nips hard and groaned as his cock pulsed, filling me with his hot seed. One last orgasm for me as he let me down into a long, passionate kiss.
Finally, rolling off him, my head rested on his shoulder. I’d never felt so empty as when his cock withdrew. Reaching down, I drew two fingers through my leaking wetness, bringing a copious portion of spunk to my mouth. Staring into his eyes, I savored and swallowed it.
“You’re yummy,” I said, going for a second helping.
“Glad you think so. There’s more where that came from…”
“Oh, you want to ravish me again? Who says I want that? Maybe I’ll just go home.”
“Uh-huh. Well, in that case, I guess I’ll just get up, shower and get some work done.”
“Fat chance of that!” I said, as I grabbed his cock. “You know you want me again.”
“Just like you want me again. Now get down there and suck me hard. You know you love my cock!”
He was right, I did love his cock… and him, if I was going to be honest. I also knew it would never amount to anything other than sex. That was good enough for me, it had to be.
So, we were off to the races. I relished his cock again, loving the feeling of him swelling back hard, ready to pound me and drive me, once again, out of my mind.
In some ways, it went much as the first time. We both knew what to expect, well almost. He did spank my ass reddish-pink while he was destroying me as I was on my knees. He turned me to the dark side. I always enjoyed telling him that. He always protested that I was already there, just needing a small push through the open door. He was probably right.
It ended back in missionary. There was more emotion this time. Our eyes searched each other’s. Our kisses were even more passionate. Many of his thrusts were slower, more deliberate, almost contemplative, but, of course, there was his rough side, the pound-me-til-I-squeal-and-cum side. It ended with me somewhat dazed from my orgasmic overload. He loved putting me in that state and I loved being there.
We were lying quietly, my head on his shoulder and my fingernails softly brushing up and down his thigh, when he said, “You know, this was wrong. It can’t happen again.”
Knowing this notion was going to come up at some point, I’d thought it through and was ready for it.
“I knew this would probably come up if this ever happened, so I’ve thought it through.”
“Oh, you have, and what’s your perspective?”
“Well, you do realize that I seduced you, right? You didn’t take advantage of some naive teenager. I wanted and planned for this to happen, hopefully.”
“I think that’s a stretch. It’s not like you had a gun to my head, but given that may be somewhat true, and I’m just supposing, that makes it okay how?”
“Okay, some people might not see it that way, but—“
“Like your parents.”
“Yeah, like my parents. But I don’t plan on telling anyone and I’m sure you don’t either, so I think we should continue, carefully, to enjoy what we both clearly like and want.”
“Even if it’s wrong.”
“Yup, even if it’s wrong. I submit wrong is in the eye of the beholder in our case, and if we’re the only beholders no one is getting hurt. Look, I like and enjoy you, but I’m not all starry-eyed, in love. I’m going to continue to be with my boyfriend and I’m sure, sooner or later, you’ll find someone you care about.”
“I obviously like and enjoy you also. Let’s table this for a bit. We’ve been here for a couple hours. We need to get cleaned up and back outside. A shower sound good?”
“Good idea, both the tabling and the shower,” I said, as I thought, Yes! His mind’s not made up. He might find a way to go with my rationale.
The shower was wonderful. We laughed as we soaped each other up and rubbed each other all over, paying particular attention to our especially sensitive areas. I made sure his cock was extra clean, as he did with my boobs and pussy. No orgasms but we sure had fun playing. I’ve always thought it somehow contributed to bonding our relationship the way it turned out to be.
We didn’t see each other the whole next week, at least in person. Final exams and year-ending projects kept me busy, but not too busy to keep up my nightly window exhibitions. Every night at ten I wore something different and stripped for him, always ending with a finger-induced orgasm. Wanting him to see me clearly, I stopped attempting to partially obscure myself with the blinds. To my delight, he watched every night.
On Saturday night I went to a school’s over party with John. We had fun: laughing, drinking, dancing. Everyone talked about their summer plans. As the night wore on, the effects of the alcohol showed. Two girls were topless and quite enjoying the attention they were getting. Others were slow dancing, hands all over their partners, no matter what music was playing. Still, others were having sex in one form or another with no attempt to conceal it—it was a voyeur’s delight. John and I were first voyeurs, enjoying the sights and sounds of others and their escapades, then we found a spot and engaged in our own escapade.
It was a late-night, but I still looked for Greg when I got home. His room was dark, with no sign of him. Well, maybe he had his own date. Maybe some lucky woman was enjoying his charms. I went to sleep not thinking of John and the night’s fun but wondering if I’d ever feel Greg’s “charms” again.
The next day started much like the previous Sunday: sleeping late, eating breakfast for lunch, talking with my parents about the party, summer was here, yada, yada, yada. Finally, I was able to put a bikini on and take advantage of my standing invite to go to the pool. When I checked out the window Greg was there, thank god! I felt the tingle of impending fun, hopefully impending anyway.
I’ve never done drugs except for the occasional joint. Right then I wished for one to mellow out as I walked over. Having prepared myself for things to go either way, I wasn’t at all sure that was really true.
“Hey Greg!” I said with a big smile, as I approached the umbrella table where he was sitting.
“Hi Lori. C’mon, sit down,” he said, as he pulled out the chair next to him. “Do anything fun last night? School’s out for the summer now, right?”
Pulling my shoulders back, I replied, “Yup, school’s out. Went to a celebration party last night. You do anything fun or otherwise last night?”
“No, not really. Went out to dinner with a couple that we’ve been friends with for quite a while. Sometimes I get the feeling it’s a pity party. You know the old expression: two’s company, three’s a crowd? That’s sort of how it felt.”
“Geez… Sorry to hear that. I’m sure that’s not how they meant it.”
“Everyone means well. Nothing but time and diversion will help. I’m sure you had a lot more fun at your party. I’d of had a lot more fun if I was there, at a younger age of course,” he said with a grin.
“Well, I like you just the way you are! Thought about you last night…” Hope that’s not pushing things, I thought, just let things happen, but get away from all things depressing.
“Yeah? What were you thinkin’?”
“Just….” I did seduce him last time. If I did it this time I’d feel like a pathetic slut. Besides, I promised myself not to push. “Just about you. How you were doing. What you were doing. Things like that.”
“Well, I thought about you also. Same kinda things. What and how you were doin’. Wonderin’ if I might see you today. And look, here you are,” he said, as his eyes were fixed on the bumps my hard nips were making in my suit.
Damn, could this get any more awkward? “I’m thirsty. Do you have a Coke or something?”
“Ya know, I’m kinda thirsty too. Let’s go see what we can find.”
With that, he stood and headed for the house. I jumped up, quickly catching up and walking next to him.
“You remember what happened last time we went to the kitchen?” he asked.
“In great detail,” I said, as he opened the door for me.
“Well, I was thinkin’ it might be fun if it happened again.”
I spun around and gently punched him. “You were just fuckin’ with me back there, weren’t you?”
He put his arms on my shoulders, fingers fumbling for the knot behind my neck, as he said, “Maybe just a bit, but you were fuckin’ with me also, weren’t you?” Just then the knot released, the cords fell, taking the triangles along.
“I was walkin’ a tight rope between tryin’ not to come off as a needy slut and attempting to get you to bring it up, good or bad.”
Grinning as he grabbed my nips and pulled me close—I gasped from the jolt that ran through me. “Not only are you smart and sexy—sexy is probably an understatement—you’re hot as hell. Most importantly, you’re mature beyond your years.”
All I could really think about were the physical and mental feelings I was experiencing from him squeezing and rubbing my tits plus the big yes I wanted to shout, as I realized what this meant for us and the future. I did babble out, “Thanks” as I threw my arms around him and added, “Take me to bed. I love you!” Oh shit, I thought. Why the fuck did I say that. “You do understand— “
“That neither of us expect we’re getting married or going steady. Yeah, I understand,” he said, laughingly. “So, do you want to fuck or make love?”
“I think fifty-fifty would be perfect.”
“I’ll keep that in mind while I’m spanking your ass,” he said, as he scooped me up and headed for the bedroom.
Of course, the sex was amazing. He came in my mouth for the first time. A copious amount that I managed to fully consume. He tasted better than any guy I’d had previously. Maybe I was just starry-eyed, but what did it matter—I loved it.
We had a wonderful summer together. I still dated John. To be totally honest, I think that was mostly a cover so my parents wouldn’t wonder too much about the time I spent with Greg.
He hired me as a summer intern in his bio-tech company, getting me away from my mindless stocking job at Walmart. It was great work experience and also gave us reasons to spend time together. Twice he arranged for us to visit other companies in the same field. My parents thought it was great, and we got to enjoy more time together. We both made it a point to occasionally confirm that we were solely friends with benefits so whenever one of us talked about love, we meant our physical feelings for each other, not marriage-minded affection.
On one of those away visits, he persuaded me to try anal. Even though he’d routinely licked my butt star (much to my enjoyment) I’d always been dubious about the whole idea after that one experience with Craig. However, I’d read accounts written by, allegedly, real women, that described how much they learned to love it and cum from it. So, I decided to give it one more try.
I won’t sugarcoat it. That first time was… arduous. As I’ve said, he’s not exactly slim or even average in the cock department. It was work, painful work, taking him in. Of course, he kept encouraging me, adding lube, pushing gently, while I rubbed the hell out of my clit, trying to distract myself. Eventually, its head popped it. Ah, some relief. Then he started pushing again. Not so much pain as some internal discomfort. Then came the back and forth. At the end, it was no longer painful. I felt the pulses of his orgasm and heard his groan of pleasure. I got off from my manic clit-rubbing.
Well, over time we kept at it, and after a few experiences, I could actually relax enough to allow easy entry. After that, I had my first, non-frantic, clit-rubbing, orgasm. From that point on, it was not exactly heaven on earth, but it never failed to get me off, and it made him happy, so it became a normal part of our sex life.
When school started, we had less time with each other, but we always found opportunities. I continued to date and party but no boyfriend, only boy friends. Greg started to date a bit, but he was not serious with anyone.
Fast forward to college. I studied hard but took Katy’s advice and partied hard also. Nevertheless, Greg would fly up about every month or two and we’d enjoy several wonderful, sex-filled, days together. We never discussed our life apart; we just enjoyed our time together.
At one point he told me he’d met someone special and it probably would end in marriage. I always knew it would happen, but I was still stunned. We didn’t see each other for six months. Then one day I got a text: It’s over. Can I see you? It was like we’d never been apart.
It turned out she was nothing but a gold digger. Having found out that Greg’s company had been bought-out for millions, she targeted him. It soured him on trust and relationships and probably increased the bond we felt for each other. He became a part of my college life right to my award of a bachelor’s degree Cum Laude with a double major, biology and education.
Being retired with more money than most people could ever imagine, he took me on a graduation trip to Bora Bora and Tahiti. By then my parents had known about us for some time and, while not exactly thrilled, had accepted it.
Five years had passed. I was twenty-two, he was thirty-five—thirteen years difference. Our situation was now much as I’d once pointed out it could be.
I had a teaching position waiting for me, high school biology. Seeing those minds, not so much younger than me, eager to soak up the knowledge I was able to impart was life-affirming. My life was almost complete, just lacking a partner to share it with. Even that was eventually filled.
So, I sit here writing this chronicle of an amazing and enthralling part of my life, hoping that someday, if the circumstances are right, I might share it with my daughter—that’s probably wishful thinking. My mom, as open and understanding as she is, would never share the things that Katy did. But now I must put down my pen.
“Greg sweetie, my contractions are five minutes apart. We need to go to the hospital.”
“Everything’s ready. God, we’re so lucky. I love you so much. Who would’ve thought I’d be taking the girl in the window to give birth to our daughter.”
“Me. I love you just as much! Let’s go welcome her. Oh damn, another!”
