“You got a visitor, boy,” my landlord shouted in his typical gruff, annoyed voice. He wasn’t mean or bad, just old and crochety. We usually got along and when we didn’t, we just moved away from each other. I never wanted to get him pissed off at me because the room I rented from him was too good of a deal, as was his allowing me to use his vast shop of tools when I needed something I didn’t have.
I was tying my shoes before going to work at the Burger King in Urbana. “I’ll be right there,” I hollered back. Grabbing my wallet and keys from the nightstand, I headed to the front door. Waiting for me was the woman from next door. Whoa! I’d seen her from time to time, we had waved to each other in passing, and once I was treated to her sunbathing in her backyard wearing a bikini, as viewed through a gap in the fence boards, but we’d never been closer than twenty-something feet to each other.
Of course, I went tongue-tied. All I could get out was a lame, “Hi.”
“My car won’t start and I need to be to work in a half-hour,” she explained. “Would it be too much of a bother for you to give me a ride? I can pay you.”
“Where do you work?” I asked. She gave the name of a department store in Urbana which was right on my way. “I’m going right by there. I’ll be glad to help. No charge.”
“Oh, thank you,” she gushed. “You’re a lifesaver.”
We got into my ’66 Plymouth Valiant and headed out. It was only about a twenty-minute drive, but there was a stretch of the road through Thomasboro where I drove five to ten miles below the speed limit. The cop there was a total dick. I ran a little over before and after it to make up the time.
Along the way we chatted, and I was amazed at how easy it was to talk to her, especially with about two-thirds of her thighs exposed and her perfume going right from my nose to my cock. That should have muddled my head worse than seeing her standing in the doorway. She was in her mid-twenties and married to a lieutenant in the Air Force. He’d been stationed at Chanute AFB there in Rantoul, where we lived, until orders came for an extended, isolated tour somewhere in Germany. He still had almost a year to go. Her job was a model at the department store. They had a runway like the big fashion shows did, but not as big of a deal. It was more of an attention-getter to attract customers. I asked her what she did when she wasn’t working. “Oh, a little of this and that,” she said with a sly smile.
We arrived at the store way too soon for me, but just in time so she (and I) wouldn’t be late. She thanked me, squeezed my hand, and turned to get out. “How are you getting home?” I asked, hoping I could pick her up after my work was over.
“I can catch a ride from one of the girls here. Don’t you worry. I’ll be fine.” Damn it.
As I traveled the few blocks to the Burger King, I sniffed my hand. Geez, it had her perfume on it. I paused for a minute in the parking lot to get some more sniffs, just to imprint the odor on my brain. Yeah, I was a way-too-horny eighteen-year-old male with raging hormones.
Work was work. How special is loading burger patties and buns onto a broiler conveyor belt? Her scent disappeared quickly in that environment. Bummer. On the way home I thought of cruising by the department store to see if she was there and I could give her a ride, but then I thought of how that would seem to her if she was there. Total creep factor. I went home.
I parked the Valiant in the driveway and as I got out I heard her voice calling my name. Turning around I saw her waving and coming my way. She’d changed into tight shorts and a tight-fitting pullover top. Oh, fuck, she looked good. I felt my dick stirring again. Crap, I did NOT want to pop a boner in front of her, so I tried to not notice how sexy she was.
“Hi, Steve. Thanks again for the ride to work. Can I ask another favor?”
“Sure.”
“I’ve noticed you working on your car sometimes and was hoping you could take a look at mine. It still won’t start.”
I went to the trunk, popped the lid, and pulled out my toolbox. “Be glad to,” I said and we headed for her car. I let her lead so I could enjoy the view.
OK, full disclosure time. I was a virgin. I’d almost gotten my finger into a pussy once, but she said it hurt and stopped me. Another time I and a friend who was a girl were getting naked in the back seat of the Valiant when we were interrupted by the sheriff. He was an ass, but he let us go. Other than that, my experience was limited to necking and feeling a girl up through her clothes. None of the girls I knew back in Alabama would dress like that. Their fathers would lock them up if they tried. Of course, they were girls, not women like Sandie.
Her car was a ’64 Pontiac Lemans convertible with the 6-cylinder engine. She’d run the battery down trying to start it, so I brought the Valiant over and hooked up the jumper cables to charge it some. We chatted some more while waiting. She invited me to supper that evening as a thanks for helping her. That sounded better than the frozen fish sticks I had been looking forward to so I accepted. Actually, I would have accepted no matter what food was involved just to spend more time with her. As the air currents shifted I kept catching whiffs of her perfume.
As it turned out, her air filter was clogged so bad that her engine had flooded. The parts store was closed by then, so I left it out and told her I’d pick one up for her tomorrow. Hell, yeah, get more time tomorrow. Sweet! After about fifteen minutes and a clear carburetor airway, I tried the key and the engine caught. She squealed in delight, jumping up and down clapping her hands. I unhooked the jumpers, closed both hoods, put my tools away and parked the Valiant in my driveway. She was waving me over, but I held up my dirty hands and shouted I needed to clean up.
“You can do that here. Come on over,” she called out.
OK, I could wash up over there just as well. It wasn’t like I had anything on me that would require GoJo.
In her home, she directed me to the kitchen sink to wash up. “It’s okay to use the dish soap. Gordon always does,” she instructed. Gordon was her husband. As I washed, she began fixing supper.
“I didn’t make it to the grocery today as planned. I hope burgers and fries are okay,” then she paused and her face fell. “Oh, no. You cook burgers and fries all day. You’re probably sick of them.” She opened the freezer door to see what other options there were. Keep in mind, this was before the days of microwave ovens. Quick thawing was soaking the item in hot water which always took close to an hour.
“I’ve got some frozen fish sticks at my place. I could get them,” I offered with a very straight face. Damn, by her expression I think she was considering them, but there was a hint of disappointment there, too. Shaking my head, I continued with a slight laugh, “No, seriously, burgers and fries will be great. I’m sure yours are better than those mass-produced things I run through a machine.”
“Well, let’s see what I can do,” she said with a smile. The biggest, brightest smile I’d seen her have. It lit the room up. She offered me a beer which I accepted. I leaned against the cabinets across from the oven while she cooked. We chatted easily, something that still amazed me, especially since I was zeroed in on her body, doing my best to see through what little covering she was wearing. All the while, my dick threatened to rise.
The food was cooked in a short time. She used pre-cut, frozen fries which she dropped into a deep fat fryer like my Mom had. I wondered how her fried chicken would measure up to Mom’s. If the burgers were any indication, Mom would have some stiff competition. Wow! I don’t know how she seasoned them, but mine was the best I’d ever had. If she cooked everything like this, Gordon was one hell of a lucky man.
Supper was done way too fast. It seemed everything involving her was done way too fast. I downed the last of my beer and began to say my goodbyes. “Have you seen that new show, Hee Haw?” she asked. I replied that I’d watched one show and thought it was pretty funny. “It’s coming on right now. Want to stay and watch it with me?” Fuck, yeah, I did.
“That would be great,” is what I said. She led me into the living room where she turned on the TV and motioned me to the couch. I sat on one end. As the TV warmed up, she selected the channel and came over to the other end of the couch.
Hee Haw was a variety comedy with a country theme and soon we were laughing at the skits. I particularly liked one where they sang, “Gloom, despair, and agony on me”. She favored the one where the two guys were “pickin’ and grinnin’”.
During a commercial, she offered another beer, which I accepted. Returning from the kitchen, she handed it to me and sat down in the middle of the couch instead of the end where she had been. Whoa! Was I reading that right or was it just over-expectant horny thinking? The show came back on and we sat there laughing and singing along with the songs we knew. I forget the skit, but something cracked her up. She leaned way over toward me, put her hand on my thigh, then sat up and removed it. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. I made the bold move of turning toward her so my right leg was bent and on the couch, left foot still on the floor, and I put my arm along the back of the couch. My hand almost reached her shoulder. That was all I had the nerve for at that time.
All too soon (again), the credits were rolling. She turned to face me, the opposite position of mine. “I like you, Steve. You’re a lot of fun.” My mind tried to add, “For a kid.” But she continued, “Would you like to stay the night?” I’m glad I didn’t have anything in my mouth.
Suddenly, I realized I was just sitting there staring at her and hadn’t answered. Shit, how long had it been? “Umm, sure,” I almost stuttered. Thank God, that didn’t happen. I was being enough of a dork already. She smiled and looked down at the couch between us, then slid over into that space, placing her left leg over my right. Then she took my right hand which was still on the back of the couch into both of hers.
Looking at my hand, tracing it with her fingertips, she asked, “You’ve never been with a woman, have you?” Shit, was it that obvious? Of course, it was. Dork!
My mind churned through all my “conquests” until I admitted to myself that I had none. “No, just making out,” I confessed.
“Let’s change that tonight,” she said in a soft, sultry voice. Fuck, my hand was shaking. Fuck, my whole body was trembling. Fuck, what a dork! I couldn’t reply. I had no faith in what my brain might try to say or how my mouth would make it come out. I just nodded. Like a dork.
She leaned over and placed her lips on mine. Softly, so softly, in a way no other girl had ever done. Her lips lingered. Mine opened. She pulled back. Shit, did I do something wrong? Her smile and her eyes said everything was okay. She stood and gently pulled my hand to encourage me to follow. I did. Right into her bedroom. She had a dimmer on the light which she adjusted to a faint, soft glow. After leading me to the side of her king-sized bed, she turned to face me, arms to her sides.
“Undress me,” was all she said. With what she was wearing, that would be something else that would go quickly.
Nervously, I took the hem of her top and lifted it. She raised her arms and I slid it up and off. She now stood before me in her bra and shorts. Her bra. With breasts in them. Nice ones, too. She took her top from my hand. Oh, yeah, I forgot about that. Dork! I expected she’d fold it neatly, but she nonchalantly tossed it over onto a chair. Now what? Oh, yeah, bra. Or shorts? Fuck, decisions. Still standing. Bra.
Leaning forward slightly, I reached around to unfasten her bra. She stepped forward until her bra-covered breasts brushed my shirt. Oh, for fuck’s sake, my hands were shaking as I tried to unfasten that damned contraption. Fucking dork! Bingo! I hit just the right position and it came loose. Fuck, yeah, stud! Getting the hang of this. Pulling it forward, the straps slipped from her shoulders and I moved it off her breasts, tossing it to the chair.
Breasts. Naked, firm, soft, warm, real, naked, breasts. With nipples poking out. Caught myself just standing there staring again. Sandie placed her hands on my chest and looked up at me with what had to be the sweetest smile there ever was. “Relax. There are no expectations from me.” Her voice was so soft, so gentle. “You don’t have to be a stud. To me, the sexiest men are the ones who can be soft while still being strong, who care for the woman’s pleasure as much or more than their own. Let me guide you.”
Her words sank into me with a truth that I couldn’t deny. It was probably the greatest lesson Sandie ever taught me. I believe that was the moment I fell in love with her, real love, not horny teen lust, and I still carry that spark today, decades later, even though I’ve always known it would never be fanned.
She slid her hands down my arms to my hands, gripped them gently, and moved them to her breasts. I noticed their shaking was gone, along with the pressure to be something more than I was at that moment. With her hands still resting on the backs of mine, I squeezed and began massaging them as I’d seen in some movies. Her smile widened. After a few moments, she pressed my hands harder against her. “Soft, but strong,” she quietly said. Her eyes closed as I increased the force of my massaging. I had never realized breasts were so pliable.
I could tell her breathing was deeper. “Pinch my nipples,” she instructed. “Firmly, but not too hard.” I complied, increasing the pressure slowly, not wanting to go too far. “Harder, harder, harder. Yes. Like that,” the last was mixed with a groan which I took was a good sound.
“Should I suck on them?” I asked. Her building ardor seemed to diminish slightly.
“Don’t ask. Do. Confidence is part of being strong.” I lifted her breast as I bent down. When I sucked the nipple into my mouth, she sighed as a shudder went through her. She moved a hand to the back of my head, pulling me in. I tried whatever came to mind. Sucking it, flicking it with my tongue, even little light nibbles with my teeth. The latter brought an unexpected pleasant groan and “Yesss,” from her. Okay, don’t ask, do. I moved to the other breast.
After another minute, or so, she urged me back to standing. Damn, just as I thought I was getting the breast work down. She unbuttoned my shirt, lightly brushing my chest with her nails as she worked her way down. When she reached the bottom button and pulled the shirttail out of my pants, I realized my dick felt like it was about to break off. She placed her palms flat against my belly and slid them up and out over my shoulders, slipping my shirt off. Catching it, she tossed it to the chair, too.
For a moment she stroked and inspected my chest with that same soft smile on her face and in her eyes. As her hands slid around my sides to my back, her gaze met mine. She pulled us together and for the first time, I felt bare breasts against my bare chest. I could feel her nipples poking into me. I would have never dreamed that could be felt. One hand lightly stroked her nails up and down my spine as the other went behind my head and pulled my mouth to hers. This time her incredibly soft lips were open, and her tongue flicked teasingly around my lips, inviting my tongue to come out to play. They joined in a dance that no other girl before had done in the same way. With other girls, it seemed as if their tongues would either play “keep away” or had to dominate mine, almost like a sword fight. Sandie’s, however, danced and played as if we were equals. No games, no showing off, just each enjoying the other for mutual pleasure.
I don’t know how long we kissed. Time stopped. Eventually, though, too soon, she pulled back, separating our lips and tongues. That was when I noticed her trembling for a change. Her breath was a bit ragged, too. “Oh,” was all she said. I took that as a sign I’d done good.
Kneeling before me, she bent over and removed my shoes, then socks, setting them aside. I had wondered if she’d toss them to the chair, too. After opening my belt and pants, she slid them down and helped as I stepped out of them. Those went to the chair. I now stood before her in only my Jockey shorts, raging boner sticking straight out, stretching the fabric like a tent. Even the elastic was pulled away from my waist in the front. Sandie hooked her fingers there and gently pulled it out and over the head of my cock, then the shorts went down and over to the chair. Still kneeling, she examined my cock. I wondered if she’d suck it. I’d heard some girls do that. Instead, she gave it one light stroke with her fingertips, then stood.
She didn’t say a word, but I got the impression I should take her shorts off. Don’t ask. Do. I did. Her shorts zipped up the back, so I reached around, found the snap which came open much easier than the bra, and slid the zipper down. Hooking the waistband with my fingers, I pulled it down and as skin turned to pubic hair, I realized I had her panties, too. Hey, that worked for me. As her crotch was uncovered, I was aware of a very distinctive, quite pleasant odor. It was rather alluring, musky, intoxicating, arousing. She stepped out of her shorts and I tossed them to the chair. Now we were both completely naked. I wanted to wonder what to do next, but her scent filled my head and I couldn’t think much at all.
“Let’s get in bed,” she said softly. Oh, yes, the bed. Sure. I stood and together we crawled onto the massive surface. She rolled over and pulled a rubber from her nightstand. Rolling back over to me, she tore the package open and removed it.
“Since this is your first time, you’re probably not going to last long. That’s okay. You’ll last longer later, as you gain experience.” She slipped the condom down over my dick. God, I almost came from that. “Just lay there and enjoy. This night is about you and your pleasure.”
With that, she rolled over on top of me, situating herself kneeling, straddled over my cock. She grasped my shaft and positioned the head against her crotch, working it around a little. Then she slowly sank down onto it. It’s hard to describe the sensation. The visual of my dick disappearing into her. The heat of her pussy all around my dick. The feel of the head pressing against something when she reached bottom. I could even feel her pubic hair against mine. The smoothness of the sliding in amazed me, too. No friction, just warmth and pressure. After resting there for several moments, she lifted. As my dick reappeared, the warmth and pressure moved up along the shaft, too. I noticed it glistening wetly. Then back down again. And up. And down. She was making sounds now. Grunts and gasps, moans, but none of it seemed from exertion. It could have been mistaken for me hurting her, but I was just lying there. So, the sex scenes in the movies were right, although overplayed compared to Sandie.
My head was analyzing all this, but the rest of me was responding to her. The feelings of climax were stirring, rising quickly, much more quickly than they ever had when jerking off. I heard a guttural sound and realized it was me. Sandie cried out as she dropped down hard onto me, rotating her hips, grinding our crotches together. My whole body shuddered and my hips jerked up against her of their own will. They wanted my dick deeper into her. I could feel my cock jerking and cum blasting out of it into the rubber. Sandie was shuddering, too, every jerk of my cock bringing a breathy cry from her. Then it was over. We were both breathing hard and were a bit sweaty. Sandie placed her hands on my chest and leaned on me for support.
“Oh, God, Steve, that was good,” she gasped. “I hadn’t thought I’d cum, but I did. Your cock is perfect.” My first fuck and an experienced woman is telling me how great my dick is, how great I am. Fuck, yeah, stud.
She lay down on top of me. “Stay the night, Steve,” she whispered in my ear, “I’m far from done with you.”
Thus began three, maybe four months with her. I kept my room next door. It wouldn’t do for me to move into her home, what with her hubby being overseas and all. Most of my free time was with her, though. I’d heard the term “nympho” used to describe a woman with an insatiable appetite for sex. That fit Sandie to a T. She was always ready, any time, any place, and as often as not, she’d be the instigator. One evening she was stirring a pot of stew simmering on the stove, naked as a jay bird. I came up behind and slipped a finger into her nether regions. Good Lord, she was wet just cooking. We ended up fucking with her bent over the counter next to the stove.
She was right. As I gained experience, I also gained stamina and an ability to pace myself. We pretty much did it all, too. She taught me how to pleasure her with my mouth. She taught me how her mouth could pleasure me. I was shocked the first time I came in her mouth and more so when she swallowed. It never occurred to me that a woman would do that, let alone enjoy it. She did, and she taught me which foods would improve my flavor. I discovered my favorite position was sixty-nine with me on top. That allowed me to fuck her mouth as I ate her out. Some dominance, I learned, was necessary, but only if done with respect. I had lots of practice with that as we went through a bondage phase. My first time in her ass was almost as exciting as my first time in her pussy. A whole new world of heat and pressure.
Then one night, after a particularly long and satisfying session, she said the time had come to part. I was a man now, in all the ways that mattered, and I was going to make some woman very happy someday. Essentially, she was saying her work was done. I knew she was right, and I’d known this time would come, but like everything else, it was too soon by my reckoning.
I couldn’t continue to live next to her, seeing her and not being able to go over there, so I packed my stuff into the Valiant and headed back to Alabama, into another chapter of my life’s journey, carrying a piece of Sandie in my heart.