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That Summer

By: MugsyB



This is a new sort of story for me. For one thing, I'm using a song by one of my favorite singers as inspiration. If you know the song, hopefully you understand where this story is coming from. Personally, I've always had a very vivid picture in my mind of what this song is about, even before I was experienced in the ways of men and women. Second, I've never written anything in the first person from the point of view of a man. So I apologize ahead of time if I've got any of the 'feelings' wrong. And finally, this story takes place roughly early-nineties and late-seventies. The song was released in 1992 and I've made my narrator 35 years old.

As always, thank you for taking the time to read my story. If you like it at all, please let me know. Your positive feedback encourages me to continue writing and without such encouragement I would be lost; adrift in a sea, bereft of love and adoration. Won't someone save me, please! (Just kidding! I enjoy a little melodrama every now and again.) Please read and enjoy!

M.

***

"What's the matter Erik?" The woman lying in my arms asks, twisting to peer back at my face.

We are lying in my bed, spooning post-coitus. Her hair is in my face and while I'd found it lovely upon first meeting her six weeks ago, now I want nothing more than to push it away from my nose. Her gently curved ass is pressed firmly against my groin and although I feel the faintest stirrings of arousal, I know it isn't because I am attracted to her.

At her question I realize I can't put off the inevitable any longer, however much I'd been hoping to avoid this. Sighing, I move away so that she rolls over and props herself on her elbows to look down at me. I smile but I know from her expression that it isn't fooling her.

"Erik," she says my name again and I cringe inwardly to hear it fall from her lips in such a tone; as though I am a wayward child and her the nanny trying to straighten me up in time for dinner.

"Gloria, I'm sorry," I say at last, not touching her, not attempting to soften the blow at all. "This just isn't going to work."

"What?" She asks, blinking at me and slowly moving into a sitting position. "I don't understand."

"It's over. I can't see you anymore." This isn't rocket science Gloria, I add silently.

"But...I thought...aren't we having a good time?" She asks, leaning forward and reaching a hand out to touch my face.

I draw back, not letting her touch me. Her hand falls to the bunched up sheets and her eyes slide away from my face. I draw in a breath, relieved that she's not freaking out.

"You're a bastard, Erik," she finally says, her voice low and no longer containing any of her earlier affection.

Hold the phone. Possible freak out in progress.

"You waited until after you'd screwed me to tell me this?" She demands, throwing a glare over her shoulder.

I shrug, as though to say, 'meh, I've been accused of worse.' So I'm a sexual being. So sue me.

Making a noise of disgust, she throws the covers off and rises to her feet. I watch as she moves around the dim room, retrieving her discarded clothing. I wish I could say that watching her move made me regret my words to her but instead all I see is a golden brown curtain of hair and a slash of tanned skin.

With another huff, Gloria straightens up and tosses her raven-colored hair over her pale shoulder, flashing her furious blue eyes in my direction. I know that she's waiting for me to apologize but I can't bring myself to do it. It's over and just because it isn't her fault doesn't make it less true.

"I hope you know what you're giving up here, Erik," she says as she stands in front of me, clutching her clothes to her body.

I don't respond. She spins on her heel and stalks out of my bedroom. As she disappears from view, I flop back against my pillows, breathing a sigh of relief. I listen to the sounds of Gloria dressing herself in the front room and close my eyes in an attempt to shut out the noise. She is muttering to herself and after what feels like an eternity, I hear the front door slam, rattling the wall hangings.

It's not her fault. Truly. How can it be her fault when she never even knew Alice? With a sigh, I roll over and bury my face in the pillow, trying in vain to erase the picture of the woman from my mind. But she never went away. No matter where I am, no matter what time of day, no matter who I fuck, Alice is always with me.

After a few minutes of tossing and turning, I decide to get out. It's not that late, maybe just past midnight and there's no way I'll be able to fall asleep now.

I dress quickly and throw on only a light jacket before grabbing my wallet and car keys and heading out. I jog down the steps of my apartment building, avoiding the elevator as usual. Part of the reason I am still in such great shape at the ripe old age of 35 is that I run on a regular basis and lift weights at the local gym. Unless I'm extremely tired or drunk, I always take the stairs.

Outside, the fresh air calms me and I suck in a deep breath, hopping from one foot to the other. Once that's out of the way, I hurry up the dark street to where my car is parked. I get in, start the engine and start driving.

It's only when I hit the city limits and see the endless fields beginning to stretch on all sides that I realize what I've done, where I'm headed.

After another three hours, I see the buildings in the distance and pull off the deserted highway, parking the car on the shoulder. I keep my eyes focused on the far off shadows of a barn and farmhouse as I turn off the engine and get out. I'm afraid suddenly as I walk around the car; afraid that someone might see me and come after me with a rifle or something. Then I laugh out loud, the sound swallowed up almost immediately by the empty expanse surrounding me.

I lift myself onto the hood of my car and lean back against the windshield. The tall stalks of wheat move one way and then the opposite as the night wind sweeps across the fields. Eventually my eyes stray from the farm buildings to the sky and I am still smiling as I watch the clouds slide slowly across the stars, alternately blocking and revealing the cosmos to me. Slowly, I lose myself in the memories, allowing myself yet another moment to wallow in them.

That summer, I think and grin. I lift my hands and place them behind my head as I cross my legs. That was the summer...

***

Nothing.

But.

Wheat.

Fields full of wheat. Endless miles of wheat.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," I grumbled as my father slowed to turn down a gravel road off the highway. I sulked on my side of the car, chin in my hand. I was pissed as hell that my father was driving me to this god-forsaken farm to work for the summer.

"I didn't talk you into anything," my dad replied mildly, not looking away from the windshield. "Your mother and I warned you that if you didn't hold up your end of the bargain, you'd be working where we chose this summer."

"You didn't say you'd ship me off to some middle-of-nowhere-hole-in-the-wall-land-of-nothing-but-wheat-farm!" I retorted, finally turning away from the window and directing the full force of my glare at him.

He just smiled. "If you pull up your grade-point average next year, then you can work wherever you like, Erik," he said. "But until then, this is where you'll be."

"This is so not fair."

"The deal was we'd pay for college as long as you kept your grades up," my father went on, slowing down as the farmhouse grew larger at the end of the driveway. "Pouting and yelling isn't going to change the fact that you failed two courses and barely scraped by in your other three."

I refused to say anything else. My father must have realized that because he remained silent until pulling to a stop in front of the farmhouse. I looked up, my eyes sweeping along the framework of the ancient building and narrowing when I saw the shape of the roof. It dipped in some spots and several shingles were missing. The window frames were in some serious need of painting and the front storm door was hanging precariously from one hinge.

One good storm and that thing is coming right off, I thought with a sigh.

"Come on, Erik," my father said to me, opening his door and getting out.

I obeyed, knowing myself to be completely screwed. I followed him around to the trunk where we pulled out my two suitcases. Then we walked up the front porch steps - which creaked unbelievably ominously - and knocked on the front door. I stood there, looking down at my feet and scowling, wanting to be anywhere else with every fiber of my being. After a minute I heard footsteps from inside and my mind began formulating several possible pictures of the owner.

My father had told me she was a widow, who periodically hired students to help on her farm. She'd apparently been living alone at this place for almost ten years since her husband passed and somehow she'd managed to keep the land for herself.

I pictured a decrepit old spinster, surrounded by cats and that smell that always seemed to accompany anyone over a certain age. I imagined that she had stringy white hair, all coiled into a bun and thick glasses, which likely did nothing for her vision. She'd shout at me because she was deaf and cackle like a witch when she laughed. All this and more crossed my mind in those moments leading up to meeting her.

Instead, Alice answered the door.

She smiled as she greeted my dad who held his hand out to shake and I saw that her teeth were not actually yellowed and falling out. They were two quite perfect rows of white. The hair, although pulled away from her face, was not stringy or white. It was a lovely brown color, lightened in streaks by the sun. Her face was darkened with a tan and there were lines at her eyes and around her mouth but when she smiled again, they disappeared, sliding seamlessly into the face of a beauty.

"Erik," my father said, his voice breaking into my silent study. "Erik!" He said again, louder this time, accompanied by a hand clap on the shoulder. "I'm sorry, Ms. Jenkins, he's been in a bit of a bad mood all morning."

"I have not!" I replied swiftly, feeling my face color immediately.

My father merely raised his eyebrows at me and looked back at the woman before us. "Erik, this is Alice Jenkins," he said. "She's the owner and operator of the Square One Farm."

"Nice to meet you, Erik," she said to me.

I think I said something along the lines of, "Nice to meet you too," but I could never be sure after that moment of anything I said.

Beside me, my dad chuckled and patted my shoulder. "I'm sure Erik will be able to help out with a lot around here Ms. Jenkins."

"I hope so," she said and the smile on her pretty face drooped a bit, revealing something of her age. "There's certainly enough to keep him occupied for the entire summer."

"Glad to hear it," my dad said.

I frowned at him but he only smiled.

"Well, I guess I should be off," he said then, shaking Alice's hand once more. "Erik, walk me to the car, will you?"

I nodded and followed as he strode back across the driveway. He faced me and placed two hands on my shoulders, forcing me to look into his face. His mouth moved but I can't say for sure what he said to me. All I could think about suddenly was Alice's smile and the way small bits of hair had come loose around her face.

"All right?" My dad said and patted my shoulder, jerking me back to reality.

"Yeah, Dad," I mumbled and suffered a light hug, feeling my face flush yet again.

"Take care of yourself and remember to call your mother every Sunday," he told me and got in the car. "I'll see you on August 31st Erik!" He called out the window and drove away.

I turned around and slowly made my way back up the porch to stand in front of this woman who was my boss for the next three months.

"I bet you must be tired from your trip," she said with a smile and I was rendered immobile and mute. She looked at me for a minute and the whole time I wondered if she thought I was a complete idiot. But she just opened the front door and grabbed hold of one of my suitcases. "Come on, I'll show you to where you'll be staying. You can rest for today and we can start in the morning."

I watched her disappear inside the house, swallowed up by the shadows entirely before I jumped to action, lifting my other suitcase and following her quickly. I hardly noticed the interior of the house. All my attention was focused on the body moving ahead of me.

Alice had a pretty face and an absolutely stunning figure. I may not have dated a lot of women at this point in my life but I knew what I liked. She had long legs, encased snuggly in dark jeans. Her shirt was loose and not fitted but her shoulders were narrow and feminine. Then she began to climb some stairs and I had to suck in a breath when confronted with her slender, belted waist and her perfectly round ass. Somehow we made it up the staircase off the side of the kitchen and it led to a small room over the garage with a sloped ceiling and gabled windows.

"This was my nephew's room last summer when he stayed with me," she said. "He said it got a little cold at night but otherwise he didn't seem to mind it." Her face turned to me and I felt a little lost suddenly as I looked into her green eyes. She smiled again as she set down the suitcase and stood aside, allowing me space to walk further into the room. "Hopefully you aren't too cramped in here."

I surveyed the space and shook my head slowly in response to her remark. It was small, with a bed pressed in one corner and a dresser on the opposite wall. There was also a rocking chair in one corner by a window with a blanket thrown over it.

"Well, I guess a young man like you doesn't need a lot of space," she said with another smile, still standing near the door.

I nodded at her as I set my other suitcase down near the bed. She cocked her head to one side and studied me quietly. I felt myself blush yet again under her scrutiny.

"You don't say much, do you?" She asked.

I shrugged. "I guess," I mumbled and looked down at my feet. Damnit!

She laughed and I thought I'd pass out from the bright, ringing sound of it. "Don't worry, Erik," she said. "I don't mind if you're shy. I spend most of my time talking to myself here anyway so it won't make much difference."

I found myself smiling back at her and she nodded as though satisfied with that progress.

"I think I'll let you get settled," she said after a moment. "Come down to the kitchen when you're ready and I'll make something for you to eat."

I nodded and watched her turn and leave me alone in the bedroom. Exhaling sharply, I sat down on the edge of the bed and held my head in my hands.

Although my mom and dad thought they'd been doing the right thing by sending me to college to further my education, they had no idea how difficult it had really been for me. My grades, although decent and steady all through high school, had gradually dropped during my freshman year of college. Not because I was stupid, although after the past ten minutes I felt like a moron, but rather because I couldn't focus in any of my classes.

For starters, my roommate and I did not get along. He was a complete genius and not a nice, nerdy genius, but a haughty, know-it-all genius who chose to remind me of my inferiority every day. I was accepted on the football team but spent the entire season watching games on the bench, assigned to towel duty. Spring didn't offer much improvement in the way of extra-curricular activities since track wasn't as 'sexy' as the contact sports. I ran anyway, since it seemed to be the only outlet for all my frustrations, socially and sexually.

To top it all off, I had absolutely zero luck with the girls on campus. I think I was rated somewhere between the first year dropouts and those who spent their time reenacting the sixties.

And now here I was. Stuck at a farm in the middle of nowhere with a veritable goddess and I couldn't even put together a complete sentence.

This was going to be a long summer.

***

As it turned out, the time began to flow by almost at a breakneck speed. True to her word, Alice started me working around her place the very next morning. It began with odd jobs on the house itself; fixing the front storm door and sanding and painting the window frames. I spent a week on the roof fixing as much as I could and installing new shingles everywhere I could get too, especially over my own bedroom.

It had been during the first rainstorm that I realized why Alice's nephew had said it got cold in that room. I also knew why the bed was shoved all the way in one corner; it was to avoid the leak directly above the center of the room. After my patch job though, no water came through during the next storm. It was still bloody cold but Alice provided me with extra blankets to help.

Alice did that a lot; providing me with everything I needed. She almost knew what I needed before I asked for it. After making me dinner that first night, she'd informed me that I was to fend for myself during the day but she'd have a meal on the table every night at 6 o'clock promptly. If I wasn't inside seated at the kitchen table, my food would go to the dogs. She said this with a smile though and as I got to know her better, I began to recognize her sense of humor.

She laughed a lot and we spent a lot of nights at the kitchen table just talking. After the first week or so I wasn't so tongue-tied around her and she opened up even more as a result.

Then the weekend of July the 1st rolled around. And something changed.

All day that day I'd been thinking about my family and friends back in my hometown. I knew the entire town would be decorated in anticipation of the holiday and I longed to join in the festivities. Alice had said that the nearest town, which was about an hour and a half away, did a big picnic but she didn't usually go.

"Mostly families," she'd said and smiled though her eyes didn't reflect the expression.

It was moments like that when I thought about how old she really was and how she'd been widowed at a relatively young age. She'd yet to tell me about how her husband died and I wasn't that much of a clod to bring it up. So I worked, on the house, on the barn and in the fields, doing whatever she asked of me and trying not to miss my home.

At six that night I hurried inside, the door almost slamming behind me. The wind was furious outside and I knew there was a storm rolling in.

"It's going to be bad, I think," Alice said with a smile as she carried a casserole dish to the table.

I nodded in agreement as I sat down. She sat across from me and told me to go ahead and serve myself. I dug in eagerly, feeling my stomach rumble with hunger. I hadn't stopped for food all day and it wasn't long before I was on to my second helping of everything.

"I'm sorry that you missed out on the celebrations today, Erik," Alice spoke up after we'd finished almost everything.

"It's ok, Ms. Jenkins," I replied, looking up at her. God but she was beautiful and I had to stop myself from checking for drool nearly every time I saw her close up. She did have some grey in her hair, around her temples and some silver strands on top of her head. But she didn't look old otherwise and she certainly didn't act like a spinster widow.

"Erik, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Alice," she said and rose from the table, carrying the dirty dishes to the sink.

"Ms. Jenkins, my mother told me to always address a lady properly," I replied and was rewarded with her broad grin.

"A lady?" She repeated, her eyes twinkling.

For the first time in weeks, I felt myself at a loss for words. I felt my face grow warm and looked down at the table, unable to look at her any longer. She laughed and I heard the water turned on in the sink.


That Summer



"Your parents must be really nice people," she said as she began to scrub the dishes in the sink. "They certainly raised you right."

It was my turn to laugh. I pushed back from the table and stood up, picking up the remaining dishes and carrying them to the sink for her. "I don't know if they'd agree with you there," I told her and was rewarded with another lovely smile.

She's even prettier up close, I thought then.

"You don't have to stick around while I do the dishes, Erik," she said softly after a moment.

I blushed and turned away, realizing that I'd been staring at her. "I don't mind helping out, Ms. Jenkins," I replied and walked back over to the table and absent-mindedly pushed the chairs back into place.

"Erik, I will fire you this minute if you call me Ms. Jenkins one more time," she said then, turning away from the sink, water dripping from the cloth in her hand as she faced me.

I looked into her face, my mouth hanging open, ready to say 'Yes, Ms. Jenkins.' The look on her face was surprising though. She looked upset, actually angry with me for calling her that and I thought for the first time that there was an entirely different reason that she must not like to be called that.

"All right," I managed to whisper.

"All right," she repeated and turned back to the sink quickly.

As silence descended over the kitchen, I felt lost suddenly. I'd said something wrong and now Alice was upset. With me. I felt awful. I resolved to change that as soon as I could. I was, however, completely at a loss as to how.

"Uh, I think I'll go check everything outside before the storm hits," I mumbled and turned to the door before I could manage to say something else foolish.

Alice didn't say a word as I left, continuing to clean the dishes from dinner. I hurried across the back porch, checking the outer shutters as I went along. The wind tore at my clothes, rippling it coolly against my skin and I shivered as I moved away from the porch and the house.

As I worked, I tried to think of something to say to Alice to make up for upsetting her. When one particularly stubborn barn door refused to budge under my hands, I grew annoyed. With the door and with the woman back inside the farm house.

What right does she have to be upset with me for speaking to her with respect? I thought to myself, grunting with the effort to haul the large barn door shut. I've done nothing to deserve her snapping at me like that.

At last the great wooden door slid an inch, then another and finally I was able to close it entirely, dropping the latch and sealing it for the night. I huffed a deep breath after that was done and faced the rest of the yard, taking in the black sky and the rumbling thunder in the distance.

"Not long now," I muttered and shivered as another chill blast of air blew through the yard.

Hurrying again, I finished up sealing all barn and shed doors, latching all the gates and securing the shutters on the outside of the house. As I finally made my way back inside, the rain had begun and my shirt was wet across the shoulders when I reached the shelter of the porch.

I entered through the kitchen and saw that Alice had finished cleaning everything up and was nowhere in sight. Shrugging, I removed my boots and headed directly upstairs to my room. Once there, I quickly changed out of my damp clothes and threw on my flannel bottoms. Then I crawled shirtless into my icy bed and tried to warm myself.

The wind outside the house howled and minutes later the rain was pounding in earnest against the wooden siding and glass windows. Sleep evaded me as I lay there, listening to the rain and replaying the conversation in the kitchen.

My annoyance with Alice had faded somewhat but not entirely. I also still felt like a complete ass for doing or saying whatever it was that had upset her so. All in all, not a good recipe for a restful sleep. Sighing and shivering alternately, I tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable for I don't even know how many hours. Still the storm outside persisted and I couldn't get warm or calm enough to fall asleep.

I thought I was hallucinating when I first heard the tap on my door.

I ignored it, figuring it was a figment of my imagination and rolled towards the wall, hauling the blanket up to my neck. When the knock sounded again a minute later, I sat up abruptly, unsure now if I was actually imagining things. Again the knock came and I switched on the bedside lamp. I finally got up, wincing when my bare feet hit the cold floor.

"Did I wake you?" A soft and quiet Alice greeted me when I opened the door.

I was dumb-founded for several long moments. Then I realized what an idiot I must look like, standing there with my mouth hanging open and shook my head in response to her question.

"Good," she breathed and smiled.

I noticed then that she was carrying two steaming mugs of what smelled like coffee. "Is one of those for me?" I asked, finding my voice and sending a silent prayer up that it didn't crack under my nervousness.

"Yes," she answered, handing one of the mugs over.

Then we stood there in silence for another minute, each holding a coffee mug. I took that minute to drink in her appearance. She wasn't dressed in her usual attire of jeans and a button-up shirt. Tonight she had on a light blue dress with little green and pink flowers all over it. It hung limply from her slender form, not exactly accentuating her curves, but it certainly didn't make her look frumpy either. She looked beautiful to me.

"May I come in?" She asked, breaking the silence and before I knew what was happening, I'd nodded and she was walking past me into my cold bedroom.

As she brushed by me, her scent wafted up to my nose and I breathed deeply, my eyelids sliding low over my eyes. She was wonderful.

"I wanted to talk to you about earlier," she said, circling the room once before deciding to sit in the lone rocking chair. She didn't look up at me immediately, her fingers playing with the handle of her mug as she sat down. "And apologize for how I acted."

All my previous annoyance and frustration melted away in an instant. I slowly walked to the bed and perched on the edge, holding my own mug gingerly between my big hands. I faced her, regarding her shyly and silently. I wanted to appear as though I was mature and could handle a mature conversation but the truth was, I just didn't want to say something brainless and spoil the moment.

"It's just been so long since I've had someone around that I could talk to," she went on, taking my silence as a cue to continue. I wouldn't have stopped her for the world. "Like we do," she added a second later, still playing lightly with her mug. "I mean, I enjoy our conversations at dinner." Finally she looked up and I was caught immobile in her emerald gaze.

"Uh, m-me too," I stammered and flushed, hating myself all the while.

"Do you?" She asked incredulously, but smiled as she spoke to take the sting out of her words.

I nodded dumbly, refusing to say anything else.

"Good," she said. "I'd hate for you to not enjoy your time here, Erik. I mean, you've still got another two long months to go."

"Not long," I said suddenly and shook my head in accompaniment.

"What?"

"It's not long at all," I repeated, feeling foolish for even speaking. When she didn't respond, I kicked myself mentally. Now I'd have to say something else! "Um, I mean, it doesn't seem like a long time. Like, I haven't been here a long time either." Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"No?" She asked, raising her eyebrows but still smiling. That was encouraging, to say the least.

"Well, no. No, it doesn't feel like it's been all that long," I went on. "And two months doesn't seem long enough-" I stopped abruptly, halting my stilted words before I said too much. But as I met her steady gaze, I knew it was already too late. She'd heard what I was trying hard not to say and now I felt a new sensation tingling up my spine; embarrassment.

"Sorry," I mumbled and looked away, down at the steam curling up from my coffee mug.

"For what?" Alice whispered and the chair creaked as she moved.

It wasn't until I felt the bed shift beside me that I looked up again. I thought she'd been getting up to leave me alone but instead she'd moved closer, sitting next to me on the bed.

"For..." I began but then shook my head. How do you apologize for lusting after your employer? It's not like there's a course at university for this sort of thing.

"Don't be sorry, Erik," she whispered and her scent swirled around me, invading my senses.

I didn't say anything. I didn't move, didn't look at her. When I tried to lift the mug to my lips, she stopped me, her rough, calloused hand staying the movement. The feeling of her hands on mine brought a recent memory racing to the forefront. I'd hurt myself about two weeks ago, nailing wire to a fence post along the outskirts of her property. Alice had swiftly and carefully cleaned the wound in the kitchen, bandaging the gash and giving me a piece of cake to 'make it all better;' she'd said that with a smirk and a light-hearted laugh. As the memory washed over me, all I could think about was how I'd felt as her hands moved on my skin. They were rough and toughened from years of work on the land and in the house but she'd not been rough in the slightest with my wound. That had also been one of the many sleepless nights in this very room, thoughts and images of her crashing around in my skull, keeping me from a dreamless sleep.

But in the here and now, she gently removed the mug from my hands and set it on the nightstand, next to her own discarded mug. Then she turned to me again and placed a hand on my cheek. I think I stopped breathing.

"I know what you were going to say, Erik," she murmured, her fingers soft against my chin.

I swallowed and nodded slowly, unable to look away from her greener than green eyes.

"You were going to say that two months isn't long enough to really get to know each other," she went on, bringing her other hand up to touch the other side of my face. "Right?" She asked, pausing in her movements to gauge my reaction.

"R-right," I stuttered, unable to move; unwilling to move. I was afraid that at any moment the spell would be broken and I'd wake up to a humid morning following a wild rainstorm.

As if to punctuate my thoughts, a flash of lightning brightened the sky and illuminated the dim room. Thunder followed almost immediately and it did wonders to disguise the erratic thumping of my heart.

"Well, let's not waste any more time," Alice whispered in the silence that followed the thunderclap.

At first I didn't know what she meant. I felt entranced and all I knew was that her hands were moving on my skin. Then her face seemed to grow larger in my vision and I gasped out loud when she kissed me.

Her lips were as soft as they'd looked. She moved them against mine and I clutched at the blankets underneath my hands, uncertain as to what exactly was happening.

"Erik?" She whispered, pulling back and frowning slightly up at me.

"Wh-what...what are you doing?" I finally managed to ask, breathless and trembling.

She smiled then and leaned forward again. "Getting to know you better."

"Alice," I murmured against her lips as she kissed me again and still I couldn't quite wrap my head around her actions. She slowly moved her mouth over mine, her hands sliding from my face to my shoulders. Clutching my shoulders, she pulled herself closer, angling her body more firmly against mine.

I felt it then, the flutter of her heartbeat within her chest and realized that this was making her as crazy as it was making me. I eased back from her, breaking the kiss and looking down at her face. We didn't speak for a long, drawn out moment. I was breathing heavily and my heartbeat was obliterating all other sounds in the room; the rain, the thunder, the wind. All other sounds but the air rushing in and out of her mouth.

Slowly, I moved, lifting one hand from the bed to rest on her slim waist. Her mouth dropped open suddenly and I froze, afraid that she was going to yell at me for presuming. But she didn't yell. She didn't move or swat my hand away. So I brought my other hand up, releasing my death grip on the covers and placing it against her neck.

She smiled then, her eyes sliding shut and tilting her head to rest against my hand. Still the air moved between us, breathing in and out from our bodies and I honestly didn't know what to do next.

"Alice," I whispered her name, not wanting to spoil the moment but not wanting to stop it, either.

"What?" She replied softly, her eyes still closed.

"I don't..." I started and stopped. "I, uh, I mean, I'm not...I don't know..."

She opened her eyes then, smiling up at me with a tender expression on her gorgeous face. "Erik, it's ok," she whispered.

"But I've never-" I began again only to be stopped by her fingers pressing against my lips firmly.

"That's all right," she murmured and leaned forward to kiss me again.

It was then, that exact moment when all the pieces tumbled into place. I'd been swimming in a dream until the moment I realized that I could do this; that I would do this. And that there's no one I'd rather be with in that moment than Alice.

I kissed her back, my fingers tightening on her body and I relished in the feeling of her pressing against me. Her arms circled my shoulders, her light fingers sliding over my bare skin and raising goose bumps. Still, I was uncertain with how to proceed, what came next.

I needn't have worried. Alice knew what happened next and she guided me through it all.

Her lips opened under my mouth and when I felt the first hesitant touch of her tongue on mine, I grew hard instantly. I groaned against her, feeling the sudden restriction of my once loose pajama pants. But I refused to end this kiss. I played my tongue against hers, sliding along one side and then the other, pressing and pushing as she did the same.

At last, she was the one to break away. We were both gasping, our chests rising and falling rapidly. In the dim light from my bedside lamp, I could see her flushed cheeks and sparkling green eyes and felt a swelling in my chest.

I'd done that to her.

Then her hands swept low over my body, grasping the waist of my pants and pulling with one hand while pushing her other hand inside. I gasped when I felt her fingers encircle my stiff cock and had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from coming right then.

"Erik," she murmured, her voice warm against my neck as she moved closer, her hand moving on me. "You never cease to amaze me."

A breathless laugh escaped me at that and she removed her hand from my crotch. I thought she meant to leave me then, a sudden swift thought that was stupid and clueless and completely groundless. She simply moved away for a second to flick the light on the nightstand off. Then she was in my arms again, her lips against mine and her body moving closer.

I lifted her into my lap effortlessly, my weeks at the farm already strengthening me in ways I hadn't expected. Not that she was all that difficult to maneuver. In spite of her knowledge and strength out in the fields or around the house, she was a woman. A slender, soft woman who was just now melting against me.

Oh, and the way she was kissing me, her tongue doing things I didn't even know were possible. She pulled her lips from mine to plant hungry kisses along my chin, nibbling lightly as she moved on. Her hands were moving up and down my sides and back, leaving a wake of shivers and tightening muscles behind.

Suddenly she was groping for my hand and I turned my palm out to grasp her smaller hand. She kissed my neck as she pulled my hand down to rest on her leg. I made a noise that I think was a groan and squeezed my fingers on the revealed skin of her thigh. At her urging, I slid my hand higher, nudging the lightweight fabric out of the way. Her own hands moved back to my shoulders where she clung to me, still kissing and licking my throat.

I marveled at the feel of her; her soft skin under the pale dress, her hungry lips on me and her strong hands grasping my body. I wanted to kiss her again but I didn't want to stop stroking her legs; her marvelous legs. I slid my palm over her knee and up her thigh until I reached the fleshy bump of her bottom. She gasped as my fingers brushed the cotton panties hidden beneath her dress and her nails dug unexpectedly into my shoulders.

"Alice," I whispered her name reverently and turned my face to hers. She obliged, lifting her lips to mine.

As we kissed again, she moved off of me, lying back on the bed. I pulled away, watching her as she moved and smiled up at me.

"Come here, Erik," she murmured, crooking a finger at me in a 'come-hither' gesture.

My stomach turned over and I shifted to kneel above her. I didn't lean down to kiss her, though she reached for my shoulders again. I touched her cheek gently, devouring her with my eyes. Another flash of lightning lit the sky outside and the room, throwing bright, slanting dashes of light across Alice's face.

"Erik," she whispered with a smile, running her fingertips lightly over my chest. My nipples hardened almost painfully as she touched me. "Are you just going to stare at me all night?" She asked.

I blushed, gratefully that the almost non-existent light in the room kept her from seeing my embarrassment. "I just don't want to rush anything," I replied softly. "I don't want to forget this moment."

"Oh Erik," she murmured and cupped her hand behind my head, drawing me down to her.

I tried to resist, afraid my weight would harm her, but she laughed breathlessly and assured me that it was fine. She wanted to feel me against her. As she spoke, she moved one hand low on my body, slipping over my flannel pants and stroking my erection through the fabric.

"I want to feel every bit of you, Erik."

"Alice," I hissed out, tensing as I felt the throbbing reach an almost unbearable point.

"Undress me," she whispered then, relenting and releasing her grasp.

I obeyed, feeling helpless to do otherwise. I pulled her skirt up, feeling every inch of her soft skin as I did. She sighed and moved one way, then the other, helping me to remove the light dress all the way. She sat up and held her arms over her head, allowing me to pull the dress up and off. Then she lay back down, arms spread, welcoming me down to her.

Again, I obeyed, sinking down against her, breathing her in before pressing my lips to hers. She wrapped her arms around me, kissing me deeply, pressing her tongue between my lips. Her hips rose against me, pushing into me and I broke away from her mouth, sucking in deep gulps of air, trying to stave off the orgasm I could feel building at a furious pace.

"Erik," Alice murmured, lifting her head from the pillows to run her tongue along the outer rim of my ear. "I want you," she whispered as she continued to lick my ear.

"God, I want you too," I managed to gasp out, still feeling her hips rubbing against my painfully hard cock. God, it hadn't even been that long since I'd polished myself off; maybe two days. And still she had me on the brink of coming inside my pajamas.

"Take off your pants," she ordered, her hands moving down my sides to push impatiently at the waistband of my flannel pants.

I obliged with a swiftness I didn't even know I possessed. It must have impressed Alice because she laughed; a brilliant, tinkling laugh that I fell in love with immediately. I vowed then and there that I would do whatever it took to make her laugh like that again.

"No underwear," she remarked and laughed again as she stroked my sides. Her hand ventured lower and lower as I held myself over her.

I was immobile as she explored my body. Her hands were so unbelievably soft. I couldn't comprehend how she'd managed it; one minute I'd felt her work-roughened hands touching me and the next, all I could feel was the velvet stroke of her fingers. She ran her hands over my torso, pausing at my hardened nipples before moving lower, lightly scratching her nails over the sensitive skin just above my hardened cock.




That Summer



"Alice," I whispered, feeling nervous suddenly.

"What is it, Erik?" She asked, lightly grasping my member.

It took me several long moments before I could think clearly again. I simply lost myself in the touch of her hand on me. She rubbed down to the base and then all the way up, rubbing her palm all around the head. I shuddered with the effort to hold myself together.

"What do I do?" I asked, not caring anymore about my inexperience. I just wanted this so badly and soon.

She laughed lightly but not meanly. She removed her warm hand from my cock and tugged one of my hands to her hip. "First, I need to get out of these," she whispered.

I was inexperienced, not a complete and utter moron. I understood immediately and shifted back on my knees so I could pull her soft panties off. I tossed them over the side of the bed and lay down beside her, stroking her side from her hip to her breast. 

"Yes," she whispered with a contented smile as I cupped the light weight of one immaculate breast. "That feels wonderful."

"I'm glad," I replied, feeling more adventurous now that she wasn't driving me insane with her hands. I was still hard as a rock and ready to burst but I could keep it in check if I was the one touching, not the one being touched.

I squeezed and released her once then ran the pad of my thumb across the tip, delighted when I felt her nipple harden at my touch.

"Can I...?" I paused, feeling shy suddenly once more.

"What?"

I didn't respond. Instead I met her gaze steadily in the brief flash of lightning and smiled. Then I leaned forward, carnal instinct compelling me to suck her nipple into my mouth. She moaned, her hand going to the back of my head, trapping me against her. I lapped at her nipple, circling it with the tip of my tongue and as I did so, I moved my hand down her back to cup her bottom.

She twisted against me, the movement causing my hand to slide further, between her legs. She arched then, pressing her breast to my lips. I suckled on the tip, loving the feeling of her body moving against me. I still didn't know what I was doing that was so pleasing but I would continue with it until she told me to stop.

I paused only to adjust our positions. I rolled her on to her back and pressed her hip to the mattress, stilling her movements. Then I leaned over, kissing her lips and delving inside her warm, welcoming mouth with my tongue. She kissed me back hungrily, her hands clutching at my shoulders, her legs tangling with mine. The movement jarred me and I suddenly felt my cock brushing against the soft fuzz at the juncture of her thighs.

Breaking the kiss, I pulled back and looked down between us.

"Erik?" Alice whispered, her breathing coming fast now.

"Alice," I replied, not looking at her face. I still had one hand on her chest, idly rubbing and squeezing one erect nipple. But I licked my lips at the sight below. When I didn't say anything, just stared at her, Alice squirmed and I was forced to look into her face once more. Now she was the one who looked embarrassed. Grinning, I leaned down, capturing her lips with mine once more, pushing my hand down over her stomach and through the curls below.

I was elated to discover a warm moisture there. She gasped and pressed her head back against the pillow as I stroked lower. She was extremely wet and although I had no experience beyond my own imagination and dirty magazines, I knew this was a good sign. More than that, I knew instinctively that this meant she was really and truly aroused by me.

I pushed further, sliding my fingers between the warm folds, my own breathing becoming more and more labored as I explored. She was moaning in my ear, scratching my shoulders and back and I was stroking faster and faster, wanting to hear more of her; wanting to feel more of this.

"A little higher," she whispered suddenly and I had no choice but to obey.

My fingers did as they were told, sliding slightly upward along her slick lips until she squeezed my shoulder excruciatingly. I guess I'd found the right spot. Then I felt it, the slightly hardened nub above her hole; the clit. I almost laughed out loud when I found it. All these years, I'd half expected it to be a myth, a story told to get men interested, intrigued. As if we needed any more incentive. Everything about women drew us in and made us want them.

"Mmm, Erik," she moaned, her hips thrusting up at my hand.

I stroked harder, moving my fingers in little circles around the clit before stroking directly over it. Alice moaned and writhed against me, her fingers working frantically against my skin. Suddenly she clamped her legs together and cried out, her nails scraping over my shoulders. I looked up in surprise to see her head thrown back and her whole body arched tautly beneath me. It was the most intense thing I'd ever seen. And I think I actually hardened another degree, if that were even possible.

"Erik," she hissed as I continued to rub her, albeit slightly softer and slower. "Thank you."

I laughed, not knowing what else to do. "It was my pleasure," I replied finally.

She laughed also, the sound breathy and light. "Mine too." She touched my cheek and drew me back down to her, kissing my lips, sliding her tongue inside my mouth to explore.

"Roll over," she said a moment later, barely pulling her lips from mine.

I looked down at her, blinking in confusion but when she pushed gently on my shoulders, I did as I was told. As she swung her leg over me and sat up straight, I gulped, suddenly knowing where this was going.

"I want to repay the favor, Erik," she whispered to me, leaning low so that her breasts brushed my chest. Lifting my hands, I cupped them, feeling the taut nipples and stroking them adoringly. She placed her hands over mine briefly, pressing them against her and shifting her lower body against me.

The soft, wet core of her connected with the rigid length of me and I stiffened, afraid suddenly that it would be over all too soon. She reached out, sensing the change in me, and stroked one hand down my cheek, nail lightly scraping my stubble. Then she took that same hand and circled my throbbing cock.

As she stroked me, her hips moved in time. She still held one hand against mine on her chest and her eyes were locked on mine as she moved. Stroking me gently, she lifted her hips and slipped my cock up under her.

"Oh god, Alice," I muttered, feeling the first burning touch of her wetness. My hand fell away from her chest, clutching desperately at the blankets covering the bed. Another bolt of lightning sliced the sky and a gust of wind blew a torrent of rain against the house just as Alice slipped me inside of her, settling down around me with a sigh.

"Erik, you feel amazing," she whispered, her eyes drifting shut. Her own hand was still on her chest, rubbing her own nipple and keeping it hard.

All I could think of was how wet and hot she felt. I was rising to meet her with rhythmic thrusts without even realizing it. When I did, I took hold of her hips to keep her steady when I increased the pressure of my thrusting.

"Oh yes," she murmured, her head falling back, her long hair tumbling back over her shoulders. "That's it, Erik. Keep doing that."

I obliged, as if I had any choice. Some base primal urge was taking over now and it felt like I'd been doing this all along. Though nothing I'd ever come across had felt like this. She was so silky smooth and warm and her body was so soft and heavy over me. Her hand dropped to my chest, raking her nails through the layer of hair there. She scraped a nail over one of my nipples and I jerked against her.

Laughing breathlessly, her face tilted back to me, her eyes glittering even in the darkness of the bedroom. I watched her face as she moved one hand lower, sliding through the curls above our joined bodies. Fascinated, I watched as she began to stroke herself, rubbing her clit in small, shallow movements. My hand moved from her hip to join hers there, stroking the moist tip.

"Oh Erik," she moaned, her head lolling back again, her body arching above me like a bow.

She moved back and forth over me, her body slick around me. It was unbelievable, the sensation of being inside her. I pumped my hips up and into her over and over again, reveling in the feeling of her body tightening around my cock. Our hands moved together over her clit and our bodies pushed and thrust in unison. I was in heaven.

Suddenly she reached back with one hand, bending almost double and I felt her cupping my balls a second later. I groaned loudly, bucking up into her and eliciting a strangled gasp from her.

"Erik," she moaned, reaching back with her other hand and bracing herself against my legs.

I grabbed her hips and thrust up into her, harder, faster, and watching in erotic fascination as her body bounced atop me, her breasts bouncing along to the same rhythm. I wanted to touch them but I was holding on to her waist too tightly. I was breathing hard and I saw her chest heaving as well. I felt it then, the clamping of her pussy on my cock, her heated wetness squeezing down on me.

She cried out, her nails digging into my thighs and I couldn't hold back any longer. With a shout, I thrust up into Alice, digging my fingertips into her soft body. She leaned forward, her hair brushing my chest and her hands stroking my sides as I bucked against her, spilling myself and spending myself in her utterly.

After an impossibly perfect moment of all-consuming sensation, I relaxed against the bed, my hands falling away from Alice's hips. She collapsed on top of me, her breathing still coming fast. I realized then that my heart was racing abnormally fast within my chest and I gulped down deep breaths until it slowed.

"Are you all right?" Alice asked me, breaking the silence and startling me.

"I'm better than all right," I replied, turning my face slightly to look at her.

She laughed and reached up to press a kiss to my lips.

"That was amazing," I murmured a moment later, slipping my arms around her and holding her against my chest.

"I'm glad you liked it," she replied against my skin, her breath tickling the hair on my chest.

"What's not to like?" I exclaimed, feeling elated.

She laughed again, the sound filling me up and making me feel for the first time like a real man. A thought occurred to me suddenly and I felt the old shyness creep up once more.

"Uh, Alice?"

"Yes, Erik?"

I chewed on my lower lip for a second before speaking again. "Did you...uh, I mean, were you...did it...was I...?" I felt like a fool all over again. It was as if nothing amazing had just happened between us.

"I did, Erik," she replied softly though, tipping her head back to look up at me with a gentle smile. "And I was and you were too." She answered my incomplete questions with ease and I felt immediately comforted.

I didn't say another word after that. We simply drifted towards sleep, the sounds and lights of the storm outside slipping over us like a gentle wave.

***

The next morning I woke before sunrise and before Alice and for a moment I thought I was still dreaming when I saw her naked form on the small bed next to me. Then the events of the previous evening came crashing down on me in a rush and I grinned, settling back beside her. Feeling bold, I reached out and rubbed her shoulder. She was turned away from me, her shoulder sloping towards her perfect waist and swelling to her perfect round ass. I traced the line of her body, feeling myself stiffen when she stirred.

Without a word, she rolled towards me, mouth seeking and hands straying low on my body. I responded in kind, touching her breasts and stroking her sides, and finally pushing my fingers between her legs to that amazing wet pussy. She moaned and opened her legs, allowing me better access, for which I was thankful. I took my time exploring her damp lips, pushing my fingers towards the now familiar hole. Then I rubbed my thumb over her clit, enjoying the way her body bucked against me at such a simple touch.

And so it continued well into the morning. The sun split the clouds as she straddled me once more and later, the clouds shifted again as I rolled on top to slip between her legs. It was amazing and sexy and I just couldn't get enough of her.

She allowed us this one morning of erotic indulgence before insisting that the farm wouldn't continue without both our work. Then she kissed me lingeringly before gathering her dress and the two coffee mugs and leaving the bedroom. I felt lost when she was gone, as though a limb had been removed from my body. I dragged myself to my feet and dressed for the day, feeling depressed.

I needn't have worried. Around five o'clock, I turned from a particularly difficult fencepost along the western perimeter of the property when I heard footsteps. There was Alice, striding toward me with long purposeful steps. I stepped away from the busted fence and mopped at the sweat dotting my brow, greeting her with a friendly smile.

She didn't stop walking. She strode right up to me and practically leapt into my arms. We tumbled to the grass together, lips and hands reaching for each other. Before I knew what was happening, our clothes were off and I was sinking into her heated pussy, dying in the sweet moisture.

***

I think I lost track of time over the next two months. We simply fell into a routine. It was anything but simple though. We'd work around the farm all day, heading to town in her decrepit old truck when necessary, and come home to dinner the same as we always did. But after dark, she'd come to me in that tiny room over the garage and we'd make love late into the night.

She didn't always sleep the night with me and it wasn't every single day that we were together. But it was enough to turn my world upside down. She taught me more than I thought it possible for one person to know.

She showed me every conceivable position and how to maximize the pleasure of each one. My personal favorite swiftly became her on top; I loved watching her bounce away on top of me, her breasts jiggling and shaking at me and her clit easily accessible to us both. She taught me the intricacies of oral sex, both how to give and receive. The first time she sucked my cock into her mouth, I nearly came that instant. But she had skill enough to slow that process. And from the first moment I swept my tongue across her swollen pussy lips, I was in love all over again, with that sweet, sweet apex between her legs. I became a devout pussy-eater that summer, though no other woman would ever come close to matching her perfect sweetness.

And finally, she taught me that I was a man. Really and truly. I had felt it that first night, in the sort of way a boy feels it after losing his virginity. But throughout the summer, she would cry and gasp and scream as I made her come with my mouth, with my hand and finally with my cock. It only got better with each passing week; she made me a man and in turn became the woman she'd once been.

It almost came as shock to me when my father called the Wednesday before he was to come pick me up. As I hung up the phone that afternoon, I turned to see Alice studying me from the kitchen doorway.

"That was my dad," I mumbled, settling the phone back in its cradle.

"I figured," she replied softly, not moving from where she stood.

I turned to face her fully, shoving my hands into my pockets and scuffing the floor with one toe. "He's coming to get me on Saturday."

"Well, that is the end of August," she agreed with a nod.

I looked up at her then, frowning. "Don't you care?"

She sighed and pushed away from the door jam, coming towards me swiftly, before I could move away. She took hold of my face in her soft hands, they'd been nothing but soft since that first amazing night, and pulled me down for a kiss.

"Of course I care, Erik," she told me, pulling back slightly but I could still feel her breath on my lips. "But let's not make this any harder than it needs to be."

I studied her face for a long minute, taking in the gentle gleam of her green eyes, wrinkled at the corners from endless hours in the sun and age. Who was I kidding? Alice was right.

Sighing heavily, I raised my hands, settling them on her waist and drawing her closer. She grinned then, pressing her pelvis against me and I groaned, immediately stiffening to her touch. Not wanting to be outdone, I glanced at the clock over the mantle. 

"It's not even three yet," I told her, though I punctuated it with a little thrust of my hips. "We have lots to get done before dinner."

She shrugged. "It'll all still be there after dinner."

Grinning, I lowered my head and angled my mouth over hers. She opened immediately for me, sighing as I slipped my tongue between her lips. Before she could object, I lifted her into my arms effortlessly; the remainder of the summer had built up my muscles even further and I'd become accustomed to the feel of Alice's weight in my arms. She laughed indulgently as I carried her through the kitchen and up to my room.

I tossed her on the bed and proceeded to undress myself, my eyes never leaving her face. She slowly undid the buttons on her shirt as I continued to remove my clothing. When I moved over her, she was still half-dressed, a detail I helped her to overcome in mere seconds.

She laughed breathlessly as I settled between her legs, stroking one smooth thigh and pressing kisses to the other. Then her head fell back against the pillows with moan as I closed my lips over her delicious clit. I sucked hard for a few seconds before easing off and stroking her soaking pussy lips with one hand as I flicked my tongue back and forth over the tiny nub. I didn't stop until I felt her hips rise off the bed and her fingers thread through my hair, pressing my face against her.

After she screamed her release, I moved over her, holding my erection in my hand and teasing her with just the tip. I'd found over the past two months that I enjoyed teasing her, making her want it so badly that she ended up begging me.

"Erik," she groaned, raising her hips from the bed and pulling me down by the shoulders. "Please, Erik, I want to feel you inside me."

"Mmm, Alice," I murmured, sliding my lips over the sensitive skin of her exposed throat. Then I relented, pushing my cock all the way in, slowly though, so I could feel every bit of her soaking pussy.

I stroked in and out of her at a leisurely pace until she clutched me tightly with her arms and legs. Her mouth fell open on a cry and I moved faster, feeling the tightening low in my body. When she came around me, I thrust harder, slapping my skin against hers and pumping as deep as I could.

"Come for me, Erik," she moaned. "I want you to come!"

And I had to obey; I'd never been able to do otherwise.

***

Three days later, I stood in that same tiny bedroom, looking out the window at the two figures down below; my father and Alice. They were chatting easily, my father leaning back against his beat up sedan and Alice a few paces away, hands casually tucked in her back pockets. I sighed and turned away from the window, surveying the room for the last time.

As I was checking my bags once more, I heard footsteps on the stairs and turned to see Alice slowly walk into the room. She stood just inside the doorway, smiling at me and in spite of the sadness in me, I smiled back. Still obliging. I wouldn't make this harder on either of us.

"Your father is waiting for you," she said quietly.

"I know," I replied. "I saw you talking."

She nodded and we both fell silent for a moment.

"Have you got everything?" She asked, gesturing at the suitcases by my feet.

"I think so," I answered with a nod.

"Well then."

"Yeah."

Again we fell silent. I looked at her face and saw the same reluctance in her eyes that must have been in mine. Sighing, she turned away and went a step or two down before whirling around and striding back into the room with me. She walked right up to me and threw her arms around me, burying her face in my neck. I held her tightly, breathing in her unique and unimaginable scent for the last time, ordering my cock not to rise to attention.




That Summer



The bulk of this story is set back in the late seventies when we were all a lot younger and far more innocent. If you find some of the words and attitudes a bit old fashioned, well that was then and this is now. Moreover, in those pre-AIDs days, we didn't see the need for that much sexual hygiene. Why wear a condom? After all, no one was going to get pregnant.

Nowadays we know how tragically wrong we were. Play safe!

*****

As wakes go I'd been to a lot worse. At least it kept me busy and stopped me slouching around the house like some sort of lost puppy. I grabbed another tray of vol-au-vents from the kitchen and took them through to the lounge, bracing myself for the next round of platitudes. 

"Johnnie, darling! Such a loss, such a loss!" Oh, god, it was Duncan, queening it up as ever. "I was just admiring your photos. Is this one Cannes?"

"Yes, we were over there for the film festival. Eighty six, if I remember correctly."

"Ah, yes, the year Roly won the Palme d'Or. Were you two...?"

"Peripherally. Not much happened back then without Sandy being involved somewhere along the line."

"Indeed so. We'll miss him. We'll all miss him but no one more than you. I'm so sorry, Johnnie, you must be devastated."

And I'd been doing so well, I'd been so strong. 

"That's OK, Johnnie, have a good cry." He pulled me into a hug and, for the life of me, I couldn't help but collapse against him.

And that sort of set the tone for the rest of the afternoon. Between fetching trays of vol-au-vents I was hugged and comforted by one and all. I was their pet project for the day. There wasn't one, not one, who didn't at some point come up and put their arms around me while deeply sympathising and offering 'if there's anything I can do, anything at all...' Some of them even meant it.

As such it was the thick end of midnight before I managed to get rid of the last few stragglers, those that had stayed for one more drink, stayed to talk about old times, stayed to comfort the lonely widower or just stayed because they didn't know when to go.

At last I collapsed on the sofa and, atypically, decided the mess could wait until morning. Good night, my love, my one true love, wherever you are. Raise a glass with me. God knows it cannot harm you now.

Do you remember the day we met? I was so young, so green, so star struck. Working in the local café to pay the rent, studying 'media' at the local polytechnic and dreaming of breaking into show business. I'd been camping on the doorstep of as many of the extras agencies as I could find, knocking on their door time after time, but come up against the old Equity card problem. You can't work in film without an Equity card and you can't get an Equity card unless you're working in film.

And then, with a few judicious half-truths, I'd managed to blag myself a gig working on some sword and sorcery bollocks. What was it now, Slaves of the Lamp or some such. If you can find a copy you can actually see me on screen. The scene where the sultry Cleopatra look-a-like first meets the dashing hero. I'm the third slave from the left, the gangly looking one, not quite the muscle bound hulk the producer was after but, on that budget, you get what you get. Let's see, I was eighteen at the time which makes it the summer of '79. We were all so much younger then...

Cue soft focus, mood music, swirly visuals and then cut to late seventies low budget sword and sorcery film set. In the foreground are people dashing meaningfully back and forth with clipboards and, to the rear, are various extras hanging about, enjoying a quick ciggie, resting between takes. One of them is a gangly young man stood wearing slave garb and propping himself up with a long handled fan. Hold that shot, zoom in and action!

"Hey, you, you over there!"

"Me, sir?"

"Yes, you. Director's office now."

I hurried off to obey. If you're the youngest, newest extra then you jump when they tell you to jump or you're out on your ear. I got to the Director's office and found him waiting there with stern looking man who was studying a list of names on a clipboard.

"What's your name, sonny?"

"John, John Watkins."

"You're not on my list," he scanned his clipboard once more as if to confirm this. "We're checking Equity cards. Do you have yours with you?"

"Equity card? No, err, sorry... I... err... I left it at home."

"Left it at home, eh? Perhaps you could tell me your membership number?"

"It's four seven five..."

"Is it bollocks! Please don't insult my intelligence by pretending any further.I know you don't have an Equity card and you know you don't have an Equity card. Am I right or am I right?"

"Yes, you're right," I sighed knowing I wasn't going to be able to blag this one any more.

"Sorry, Jim, you know the rules. I'm going to have to pull this one off your set," the man said to the director.

"Oh, shit! Pain in the arse kids! What about the stuff I've already shot?"

"You'll have to... Oh, fuck it. It's just one small scene and I know how tight your budget is. I'll let you off this time. Just as long as this one's involvement stops here."

"Thanks, Harry, you're a brick. And you," Jim turned his attention to me, "fuck off out of my set before Harry closes me down. And don't think for one moment you're going to get paid for this morning. You nearly caused me to lose several hour's filming. Now fuck off."

With my tail between my legs I slunk off to the lockers to get changed out of my costume. I was still locating my stuff when this guy followed me in and stood leaning against the door jamb.

"Are you the kid who just got kicked off the set for not having an Equity card?"

"'Fraid so. I've tried applying for one but..."

"But you need someone to put you on an Equity contract. Yeah, same old same old. Look, my name is Andy Ferguson and the thing is, I might just be able to help you."

"Really?"

"Yeah, no promises or anything but I run an agency and you could be just what I'm looking for." He paused, looking at me thoughtfully. "Tell me, have you got a girlfriend?"

"Girlfriend? Sorry, I don't understand..."

"What's to understand? I'm just asking whether you have a girlfriend. Do you want me to help you or what?"

"I don't have a girlfriend although I can't see what difference it makes."

"Not now or not ever?"

"Not ever. Look, I've just been busy with my studies, OK?"

"Keep your hair on. I'm just asking. You're no use to me if you won't answer a few simple questions. You're not going to be some sort of trouble maker, are you?"

"No, no, of course not."

"OK then but before I go any further I need to see what I'm getting for my money. Strip off that tunic and let's have a look at you."

"What!"

"I need to see the goods, sunshine and you're no use to me if you're shy. Come along."

I took off the tunic and stood there dressed only in my briefs and the sandals that came with the costume. Mr Ferguson had me turn around while he inspected me from all angles.

"All fit and healthy? No nasty diseases?"

"No, of course not."

"In which case I think I can use you. I've got one or two bits and pieces coming up and you might be just the lad I need. It won't be speaking roles at first but we all have to start somewhere, and, if you do what you're told, you'll end up with an Equity card. Now, what do you say?"

"Wow! Thanks Mr Ferguson! That's great!"

"Never mind that Mr Ferguson stuff, if you're going to work for me you just call me Andy. Now, when can you start?"

"I can be available any time Mr Fer... Andy." 

"Excellent. OK, give me your phone number and I'll be in touch."

"I haven't exactly got a phone but if you call this number," I found a pen and a scrap of paper and scribbled the number down, "you get the payphone down the hall. You may need to let it ring for a while. I hope this doesn't matter."

"Payphone down the hall? Are you in student digs or something?"

"A bit like that."

"Hey, I was young once, believe it or not. OK, we'll give it a try but don't you fuck up on me, understood?"

"Of course not, Andy."

"Well you'd better get changed and bugger off. You're not exactly flavour of the month around here. Give me a couple of days to find some work for you and I'll give you a call."

And, with that, he was off. I got changed, handed back my slave costume and took the train back to town. What a day. Thrown off the set one moment, offered a job the next. 

For the next few days I was on absolute tenterhooks. I hardly stirred from my room so as not to miss that vital call, the one which would launch me into the big time. In my mind I was choosing my screen name, composing Oscar acceptance speeches, dreaming of Leicester Square premieres, dreaming of Hollywood!

When the call finally came it was not what I expected.

"John? John Watkins? It's Andy Ferguson."

"Andy! Great! Have you got any work for me?"

"Well, I have and I haven't. It's not exactly an acting gig but it's work and, if you help me out on this one, I can absolutely guarantee the next one will get you your Equity card."

"What's involved?"

"They're giving a wrap party for C_____ now that the shooting of 'Bride' is finished and, as it's set in ancient Athens, we thought it would be nice if it were a Greek banquet sort of thing. Thing is we need lots of serving staff who are prepared to dress up as slaves."

"So not that different from what I was doing on Slaves of the Lamp except instead of holding a fan I'll be passing round the dishes?"

"Yeah, that sort of thing. Do this one for me and I'll make sure the next is a doozy. What's more there's a pony in it for you. Twenty five quid for a night's work; can't turn that down, can you?"

"I certainly can't. When is this?"

"Saturday night. That's not a problem, is it?"

"No, of course not."

"Good lad. Now, can you get yourself to North Acton tube station for six o'clock on Saturday evening? Look for a Bluebird coach." 

"North Acton Station, six o'clock, Bluebird coach. Yeah, got it."

"Oh, and you won't be wearing much more than a simple slave tunic so there will be quite a lot of flesh on show. Make sure you have a good hot bath before you leave. You've got to be squeaky clean, nose to tail, got me?"

"Of course, Andy. I won't let you down."

Naturally I was at Acton North tube station for a little after five o'clock. That left me pacing back and forth for some time before I noticed a couple of other guys of around my age who were also obviously waiting. 

"Hi there. Are you waiting for Andy Ferguson?"

"And what's it to do with you if we are?"

"Because I am as well. Do you mind if I join you?"

"Why should we mind?"

"Andy... Andy Ferguson says he can get me an Equity card. Is that why you're here as well?"

"Nah, you don't need an Equity card in my line of work."

"Why? What do you do?"

They just stared at me.

"You do know what sort of gig this is, don't you?" 

"We're to be waiters at some sort of banquet. Andy said it had a Greek theme so we're to be dressed up as Greek slaves."

"Undressed as Greek slaves more like it."

"What do you mean?"

"You really haven't got a clue, have you? Look, my name's Sam and this is Archie and...," he went around the group introducing us. "We're... we're part of the entertainment. Here, you've heard about that Playboy Club down the West End?"

"Yeah, of course?"

"You know how they have Playboy bunnies? Well, that's us."

"But how can we be bunnies? We're not girls?"

"Well, speak for yourself, sweetie!"

"Never mind Archie. We're not bunny girls exactly, we just do the same sort of thing. We hang around, look pretty and, when the time comes, make sure the punter has a good time."

And that's when the penny started to drop.

"If we're bunny boys and not bunny girls does that mean that the party is full of queers?"

"Now he's getting it."

"But I was told it's a party for C_____. He's not queer. I saw a picture of him in the Evening Standard and he was out on the town with D_____."

"Well, if he's not a queer then you won't have anything to worry about, will you. Come along, here's the bus."

And there, indeed, was the Bluebird coach pulling up. 

As the bus made its way along the West Way I had plenty of time to think about what I seemed to be getting into. First of all the others on the coach seemed a bit rough. I know that sounds snobbish, I guess that, to an extent, it is snobbish, but they weren't at all like the group of extras I'd been working with on Slaves of the Lamp. The other thing worrying me was the way that Sam had described the gig as acting as some sort of bunny girl for a bunch of queers.

I wasn't at all sure how I felt about that. I liked to think of myself as a child of the seventies, that I was open and accepting to all sorts, but queers... Being called queer, or a poof, or a pansy was one of the worst insults back when I had been in school and, even now, the only images I had were limp wristed poofs like Mr Humphries from Are You Being Served or child molesting monsters from the tabloid press. 

On the other hand there was the promise of the Equity card, my passport to fame and riches. And, even without that, the twenty five quid was more than I earned in a week doing my vac job. Equity card and wages: if all I had to do was serve food to a bunch of poofs then I could put aside my fears for one evening.

We made good time once we got out of town and, in due course the coach pulled into a fancy estate somewhere out near Beaconsfield. We were driven around to the back and then, after disembarking, shepherded through to the garden where an enormous marquee had been erected. Evidently this was where the party was to be held.

Everywhere I looked there were people milling around finishing off the final touches and I have to say that they had got the inside of the marquee looking superb. The Greek theme ran throughout, up to and including fake pillars to make it look like some sort of temple. The diners were going to recline rather than sit on the plush benches covered with cushions and the tables were equally low to match. It certainly looked lavish and opulent. At one end there was a raised platform maybe a foot or so higher than the rest and, along this, was what was evidently the top table. In the corner next to this was a small stage complete with a microphone and, in front of that, a dance floor.

We were led through to a cordoned off serving area where, already, a battalion of chefs were hard at work. Waiting for us there was Andy Ferguson.

"Right lads, let's be having you. You know the drill by now. Strip off over there, put your kit in the plastic bags provided, mark them clearly with your name and take them to Carrie who will provide you with your costume. Any questions? No? Well, get on with it."

As the others started to undress I thought it best to take my concerns to Andy.

"Please, Andy..."

"What's up? Oh, hello, it's Johnny boy. Managed to meet the coach OK?"

"Yes, sure, it's about what we're going to be doing?"

"What about it?"

"Well, I'm not sure..." And I wasn't sure how to express my doubts. I didn't want to come straight out with it and say I didn't want to be some sort of bunny boy for queers but that was what was worrying me.

"First night nerves, eh?" He put his arm around my shoulder. "Just think of it as an acting gig. OK, so you'll have to wiggle your bum a bit and put up with a certain amount of groping but that's all there is to it. Nothing to be worried about, nothing at all. Anyway, there's got to be a bit of give and take in this game and, if you'll do this one for me, then I'll look after you. Can't say fairer than that, can I?"

"Well, OK, but you will get me my Equity card, won't you?"

"Trust me, it's all but sorted. Now hurry up or you'll keep people waiting."

Thinking that this might make rather a good story for when I wrote my autobiography I put my doubts to one side and, keeping the Equity card firmly in mind, started to undress with the others.

Standing in line, waiting on Carrie to hand out the costumes, was reminiscent of school gym changing rooms. Somehow there's no embarrassment in nudity if there are lots of you doing it. That didn't stop me unobtrusively checking out the others. I hadn't been in this sort of situation since I had left school and I wouldn't be human if I didn't have a look and see how I measured up against the opposition. One of the guys caught me checking him out and, instead of being cross or embarrassed, he reached down, grabbed his prick and waved it at me while all the time giving me a big smile. I smiled back so as not to appear churlish.

The costume, when I got there, was about as basic as they come. It was nothing more than two rectangles of white cotton around fifteen inches wide by thirty inches long. These were accompanied by a long strip of inch wide cotton and a broach that looked golden but, on inspection, turned out to be cheap tin. I hadn't got a clue what to do with any of this so I looked around to see how the others were wearing theirs. 

It turned out to pretty simple. The broach was used to fasten the two rectangles together at one corner and then that corner was arranged over the left shoulder. At this point the whole shebang just hung straight down so we had to hold it in place by grabbing the other corner and holding it to our right shoulder. Then one of the others, usually Carrie, took the long strip of cotton and used it as a belt, holding the rectangles across the hips, front and back. It took a certain amount of fussing about before she was happy that it all hung straight and square as it should do. We were then told to let go of the unattached corners which Carrie arranged to drape artistically across the chest and back leaving most of the torso exposed. 

And, talking of exposed, two flimsy pieces of cotton do not a garment make. Although, strictly speaking, we were 'decent' the open sides of the costume only acted to accentuate the fact that we were completely naked underneath. What is more the hem was as short as a miniskirt on a sixties dolly bird and any injudicious movement such as bending over, or even sitting, would reveal anything. This was a costume to emphasise, not conceal, our sexual availability.

Once Carrie was satisfied that we were all suitable dressed we were then taken through to the main dining area where Andy, now dressed in a sort of Greek toga, lined us up and told us what was what. He reiterated how we were supposed to be slaves, how we were expected to be completely subservient to the guests and how important it was to maintain the pretence that this was an ancient Greek banquet. We were each given Greek slave names, mine was Pamphilos, and we were to greet the guests with 'good evening, noble gentlemen, I am your slave for the night. How can I serve you?'

Meanwhile he, and a couple of others, would be acting in a Maitre d' role making sure everything ran as it should.

And then there was a bit of a wait. We wandered around getting in people's way until we were shooed off into the garden. It was a fine summer evening but even so it was quite cool wearing so little. I found Sam who had been so friendly back in North Acton and, together, we chatted over whether Chelsea were ever going to make it back into the first division. 

Finally the guests were due to arrive and, so as to be on place for our main cue, we were called back to the marquee where we took our places along the walls. As each group arrived they would be greeted by Andy who would call over a slave to escort them to their table and get them settled in.

It was clear that the guests had all taken the Greek theme very much to heart and, although I'm no expert, the general theme of draped cloth looked pretty authentic. They were also, without exception, all men. I watched as the first few parties arrived and then it was my turn. Andy motioned me over to the reception desk where three guests were waiting.




That Summer



"Good evening noble gentlemen," I recited. "I am your slave for the night. How may I serve you?"

"Oh, what a darling sweetheart! Where did you get this one from?"

"Our slave for the night? I can hardly wait."

"You can be as hard as you like, ducky. I saw him first."

"I'm glad you find me pleasing, kind sirs." I replied, playing along to the script.

"Pamphilos, take these gentlemen to table seven and make sure they have everything they want."

"This way, please," and I led them towards their table.

I got them all settled in and, as I was doing so, another slave came over holding an amphora in each hand.

"Red wine or white," he asked and, while he was pouring, I started to inch away thinking to return to my place at the wall of the marquee.

"Oi, where do you think you're going?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I thought you had finished with me."

"I'm a long way from finished with you. You're our slave for the night and if you think we're going to let a pretty little thing like you run away then you've got another think coming. Now come and stand next to me."

I did as I was told and, as they raised their glasses in a toast, I felt a hand snaking up my thigh, my upper thigh, my inner thigh, my...

"Here's to C______ and all who sail in her!" and, as they raised their glasses, so I felt his hand grasp my prick. That was too much; I leapt back and I squirmed away.

"Please, Sir!"

"Ooh, look, he's shy! How sweet."

I just stood there blushing bright red, doubled up with my hands clamped over my groin. Ever since Sam had clued me up as we were waiting for the bus I should have known this moment was coming but I'd been so deep in denial that I had managed to persuade myself that it was going to be all show and not touch, well, except for, as Andy put it, a little light groping. The guests had barely taken their seats and I had already been disabused of that delusion. They couldn't wait to take advantage of my availability and, if that was the start... Now it was clear to see exactly what being a 'bunny boy' was going to entail. I didn't know what to do. I could, of course, have refused, I could have stormed out; I'm sure no one would have stopped me except, and this was the big one, were I to do so then I'd show Andy up and my chance of getting an Equity card would go right out of the window. Stay or go? Stay or go?

"You've never done this before, have you?" one of the others asked.

"No sir."

"Nor anything like it?"

I just shook my head and bit my bottom lip.

"And it's a bit much when scary men grab your balls without asking?"

It was such a relief to find someone who understood. I smiled nervously at him and he smiled back.

"Why don't you come and sit over here," he patted the edge of the bench he was lying on, "and let me look after you?"

"Oi! Sandy! I saw him first."

"Yeah, you did, and you scared the poor child half out of his wits. Can't you see how nervous he is?"

"I didn't pay for nervous, I paid for accessible."

"George, you didn't pay at all. Now, there are plenty of other pretty little slave boys ready and waiting and more than willing to indulge your every fantasy." He pointed at the slaves waiting patiently along the walls of the tent. "That one there, the one with the six pack, he's far more your sort. Why don't you and Harry go over and take your pick."

There was a bit of a pause while George and Sandy just stared at each other and then George got to his feet.

"Come on, H, let's go and see what's what before all the best ones are taken."

As George and Harry made their way to the slaves standing around the edge of the marquee Sandy rearranged himself so that his body was propped up and he was half sitting, half lying. This left a sliver of bench for me to sit on and, knowing that I had little option to do otherwise, I perched nervously on the edge, pulling down the hem of my tunic as far as it would go.

"There, that's better. Now, my name is Sandy. What do I call you?"

"I'm called... Philemon sir."

"Philemon? If I remember my Greek correctly that means 'One who kisses'. Is that right?"

"I couldn't say, sir."

"Well, let's see if it's right. How about giving me a little kiss. Do you think you can manage that?"

I wasn't at all sure about that but at least he wasn't grabbing for my prick. Tentatively I turned and leant towards him and our lips touched. Not much, just the mildest peck but I'd kissed another guy for the first time in my life.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it? How about another?"

This time, as we kissed, he put his arm around me and gently pulled me into him. It was still scary but it was nice scary and, for the first time in a while, I started to relax. Maybe this Greek slave gig wasn't going to be all that bad.

"Bloody hell, that didn't take you long, did it? We've only been gone a couple of moments and by the time we return you're seducing the virgin. Doesn't look so shy now, does he?"

Sandy and I broke from our kiss and I, blushing beetroot, sat up straight again. George and Harry had returned and each had a slave in tow. They sat back down and their slaves knelt on the floor next to them.

I glanced about. Practically every table was now taken and most of the guests had selected a slave to attend to them personally. I seemed to be the only slave showing any sort of reluctance and there was a fair amount of enthusiasm for taking advantage of the sexual license implied by our tunics. I even saw one slave who was down on his knees with his hand deep beneath his master's garments. While the loose folds of cloth hid the exact details and the guest was doing his best to appear unconcerned it wasn't hard to guess what was happening. I wondered if Sandy would want the same from me later and, if so, how I would feel about it. With someone like George it would have been hard to get up the courage; he had made no concessions to my nervousness. Sandy, on the other hand, was a real gentleman. Maybe I'd do it as a way of saying thank you.

And then the music was turned down to be replaced by a fanfare of trumpets.

"Noble gentlemen of Greece, please welcome our special guest tonight - C______!"

The music changed to KC and the Sunshine Band's That's the way I Like It and there were wild cheers from the assembled guests as a litter, carried on the shoulders of four slaves, made its way through the entrance of the marquee. There, on the litter, was indeed, C_____ dressed, like the rest of the guests, as a Greek from ancient times. He made the most of his entrance, waving imperiously as the litter made a complete circuit of the tent before ending up at the stage where it was lowered and C______ leapt off, took the mic off its stand and gave a sweeping bow.

"Ooh, I've just been given a ride by four fit young men; I think I've died and gone to heaven! And look at you all. Thank you so much for coming. It's like all my birthdays have come at once!

"But this is a wrap party and I'm sure we'd all like to thank all those who have worked so hard towards making 'Bride' such a success. I've had so much fun with you all that there are too many to thank individually but I'd like to say a special thank you to Charles for being such a sweetie and once again offering a part to an old war horse like me. Here's to future successes!

"OK, that's more enough of that bollocks. The night is young and there are there are so many beautiful boys it's a shame to waste time talking. Let's get on with the party!"

"I never knew C______ was a queer," I whispered to Sandy.

"You still don't. He's not here, you're not here and none of this is happening. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Good lad. Now, you slaves are supposed to be bringing us our food. Off you go." 

I looked up to see that all the other slaves were busy fetching the food and laying it on the tables so I hurried off to help.

I've no idea how authentic the food actually was. Mind you, I didn't get to eat that much of it. My job, as a slave, was to feed my master. It was all finger food and, along with the other slaves, I knelt down on the floor and, under Sandy's direction, would load up a plate with morsels and then hold it up for him. Occasionally he would pass me a tidbit.

On the occasions that I was sent to fetch more food I could see that, after the initial enthusiasm over being attended by an all but naked slave, most of the guests were now indulging their appetite for food rather than their appetite for young men. There was quite a bit of sexual tension in the air and the sexual availability of the slaves led to a certain amount of groping but, for the main part, the guests were getting on with the eating and the slaves were getting on with the serving.

It was when the food was finished and the tables were cleared away that the mood began to change. The lighting became more subtle, the music slower and quieter and, as I was carrying the used dishes back to the kitchen, I noticed that one or two of the slaves had shed their costumes and were now completely naked. There was quite a bit of heavy petting and, in one case, I saw a slave's head busily bobbing up and down in a guest's lap. I wasn't a complete ingénue, I recognised a blow job when I saw one but this was the first time I had seen one outside of the pages of one particular hardcore porn mag me and my friends had giggled over behind the bike sheds at school.

As I made my way back to Sandy I wondered again what I had got myself involved with. Earlier I had worried about giving Sandy a wank and now it looked more like a blow job would be the norm. If it came to that would I be able to? I'd never, ever, done anything like that before and was nervous about starting now. Would I really be required to take another man's prick into my mouth? Would it taste of pee? Would I gag? Would I make a fool of myself?

And, when I got back to the table, I found that Harry had pushed the folds of his garment aside and his slave was busy wanking him off. George's slave was naked and lying in George's arms, gently kissing whatever exposed flesh he could get to. I dithered at the edge, not sure what was expected of me. 

"Hello, the shrinking violet's back. Come on, darlin', get down on your knees and get your laughing gear around Sandy's chopper; that's what your here for." 

"Never mind George," Sandy cut in, "he's not your master, I am. Just come over here and sit next to me." 

Once again I perched on the edge of the bench. However Sandy shifted so I had more room and then put his arm around me and pulled me into him. Relieved to have been let off the immediate hook, I sort of snuggled into his arms and looked around me. I was both appalled and fascinated by what I saw. Both Harry and George were being quite specific in what they wanted from their respective slaves, Harry going as far as to say "easy, darling, not too fast. I don't want to pop my cork too early. I want something left to poke up that pretty arse of yours."

But, much as I was nervous over such rampant and open sexuality, it was also immensely liberating. No one here was shy about what they wanted; they all knew what they liked and saw no reason not to get on with it. What is more, although we slaves were technically subservient, it was quite clear that no one was under any duress to do other than what they were happy with and the only one not fully into it all was me.

All of which rather raised the question: if full on sex was expected then was that what Sandy would be demanding of me before the night was over? So far the most we had indulged in was a little cuddling along with a little light snogging; could I really expect him to be satisfied at that? And what would be my response when he demanded more?

And I was still pondering this when Sandy put his hand on my thigh, my bare upper thigh. My very bare, very upper thigh. My heart was racing; the light touch of his hand seemed to be charged with electricity. If either of use were to move so much as a millimetre then he would touch my prick but, crucially, that millimetre gap still remained between us. We both knew he was asking the question; how was I going to respond?

In the end it was my prick that answered. The electricity from his hand seemed to flow straight to the tip and I could feel it hardening, Whatever I might want my prick wanted to be touched and that millimetre gap was more than it could bear.

I moved, not much, but enough to effectively push my prick into his hand, enough to tell him what I wanted. He didn't hesitate a moment but gently took it with the tips of his fingers and started stroking it up and down.

How different from George's clumsy groping. This was the first time anyone other than myself had stroked my prick and it felt like heaven. The fact that it was a guy doing it didn't bother me at all; in fact it just made it all the more delicious. I snuggled into him more and kissed him on his neck.

"You like that?"

"Can't you tell?"

"You're certainly nice and hard for me."

We had a bit of a snog as he continued to stroke me. I wondered whether I ought to reply in kind but that would have involved rather awkwardly reaching behind me and, as he wasn't pushing for it, I let it pass. Anyway, I was rather enjoying things as they were. A little tongue action as we kissed and all the while being wanked off by an expert. I wasn't going to do anything to break the mood. 

We were still like this when then the lights were dimmed even further leaving just a follow spot focused on the stage and, from out of the wings, came Andy.

"Gentlemen! I see you're enjoying all the tasty treats we have on offer. Just remember, we're here to help and if there's anything else you need, just let us know and we'll find you a pretty young slave boy to satisfy your every desire whatever that might be!

"But if our slave boys weren't distraction enough, tonight, for one night only, we have for your delectation, the one, the only, the fabulous, the divine Suzy the Floozy!"

To a cacophony of cheers, jeers, and applause a completely outrageous drag queen made her way out onto the stage, took the mic from Andy and set off into her act.

I'd seen Danny La Rue on Saturday Night at the London Palladium so I thought I had some idea of what to expect. However, what they allow on television and what's allowed at what can only be described as a nascent orgy are two completely different things. The jokes started out as blue and then got worse. Despite this, or maybe because of this, she was outrageously funny and had us all in stitches. 

With all the light, and attention, on the stage there was a subtle but significant increase in the activity off stage. While no one had been exactly shy, under cover of the increased darkness the guests were getting bolder and, halfway through Suzy's set, there was a massive groan as one of the guests reached orgasm. Suzy, of course, played up to this and we all had a big laugh at his expense.

But the point was clear. Under cover of darkness we had moved from heavy petting to full on sex.

And, all this while, I was sat, almost innocently, well, as innocently as you can be when someone is gently stroking your prick and, nice as it was, I began to feel a little guilty. After all, Sandy had been so nice to me and was getting nothing back in return. If I were any of the other slaves he wouldn't be stroking me, it would be the other way around.

But it wasn't just guilt I was feeling. Although having Sandy stroke my prick was nice, really nice, I had this feeling that it wasn't just Sandy who was missing out. By being prissy, by limiting the things I would do, I was missing out on half the fun. When George had urged me to get my 'laughing gear' around Sandy's 'chopper' it had seemed coarsely vulgar and I had baulked at the idea. However, in this more erotically charged atmosphere my definitions of what was and was not permissible was changing and I wondered what it would be like to take another man's prick into my mouth. It couldn't be that bad. After all, most of the other slaves were doing it.

This temptation only increased when Suzy finished her set and was replaced by a crooner. Whereas Suzy's comedy had demanded my full attention now I was lost in the music and the combination of guilt and curiosity was nagging at me. The crooner started in on a version of Herb Albert's 'This Guy's In Love With You' and it just got to me.

I gave Sandy a little kiss, slipped off the bench, got down on my knees and pushed aside the folds of cloth and, even in the subdued lighting I could see he was big, strong and hard. I held his prick with the tips of my fingers and eased his foreskin back from the tip. 

I wasn't exactly sure what to do. OK, so I knew the basics - all I had to do was put his prick in my mouth - but, beyond that, I'd never thought about it. After all, I'd never, in my wildest dreams, imagined that it I would be me who was doing it. Still, there was only one way to find out. I leant forward and, feeling ever so daring, gently brushed the tip of my tongue across his glans. This produced a groan of pleasure from Sandy so I knew I was doing something right.

At first I just explored the tip of his prick with my tongue but, from what I'd seen the other slaves do, I knew I had to actually take it into my mouth. I leant further forward, opened my mouth and swallowed.

Naturally I was aware of the film Deep Throat and all the fuss that surrounded it and, as such, was under the impression that I had to completely swallow Sandy's prick. Of course, when I tried, it wasn't that easy and I nearly gagged as he hit the back of my throat. Sandy must have picked up on this because he leant forward and said quietly "easy, take it easy. Here, let me."

He gently cradled my head in his hands and, holding it still, started to ease the tip of his prick in and out of my mouth. He was slow and easy and not too deep so I was able to pick up the rhythm and respond, timing my sucks to coincide with his pushes. It was almost as if I were milking him with my mouth and it must have worked because, although he kept the slow rhythm, I could feel the growing tension in his body as he responded. 

Bit by bit the urgency of his pushing increased and it was clear he was approaching orgasm. I wasn't sure what he would want me to do; the limited porn I had seen had suggested that he would pull out and squirt all over my face. That made me panic a little; I wasn't at all sure how that was going to work. If I pulled off too early then he wouldn't come and I'd ruin everything. The only thing to do was to keep going, to take my cue from him and hope he'd pull out when he was ready.

And then I found that pulling out was the last thing on his mind. In fact it was exactly the other way around. He thrust deeper than before, as deep as I could take it and, suddenly, my mouth was full of his thick creamy semen. I expected it to taste disgusting but it wasn't; warm, salty and not bat at all. I heard him groan with pleasure as, time and again, he pumped his load into me. I was so pleased to have made him come that I never thought for one moment to do other than continue to milk his prick with my mouth, swallowing every drop he gave me.

Of course it couldn't last. He gave a massive sigh and relaxed back and I knew it was all over. I, however, still wanted to taste every drop he could give me so, as he got his breath back I held his prick in my hand, licking the tip, savouring it all. I felt like the cat who had swallowed the cream - in more ways than one.

In the end it was Sandy who gently pushed my head away and rearranged his robe so as to be decent again. He then reached down, pulled me back up to sit next to him and kissed me long and hard. It was funny how quickly being kissed by another man was becoming normal; it was funny how much it turned me on.




That Summer



"Thank you. That was something special."

"It was special for me too. I've never done that before."

"Really? I know that you're a little new to all this but I didn't have you down as a complete virgin. That's so sweet."

"Please..."

"What?"

"Don't laugh at me."

"My dear boy, the last thing I'm doing is laughing at you. I am proud and honoured to be your first blow job. Now, come here and kiss me." He pulled me further into him and, for a while, we were lost in kissing. Naturally his hand returned to my thigh and, moments later, he was stroking me again.

As we cuddled together I thought over what I had done. Growing up, at school and at college, queers had been figures of fun or figures of fear. Even looking at another guy in the changing rooms made you suspect, and to admit to any thoughts in that direction was an open invitation to be bullied and derided, hated and loathed.

And yet going down on Sandy had felt natural and there had been nothing dirty or obscene about it. Indeed, although, obviously, I hadn't actually come, I'd got a massive buzz from making him do so and, given half a chance, I was ready to do it again. What is more, curled up in Sandy's arms having a right old snog also felt right. Nothing I had ever done with any girl from school or college had felt anything half as good.

Did that make me a queer? Right then I wasn't sure. Maybe it was just the night, the atmosphere, the everything. Maybe this was just one of those things, one of those crazy things. What I did know was that tucked into Sandy's arms with his fingers playing sweet music on my prick was pretty close to heaven.

However, crucially, I was in no danger of coming. Sandy's fingers on my prick, while keeping me as hard as rock, were not moving hard or fast enough to do more than keep me ticking over. What's more, given his obvious experience, he knew this. He was keeping me simmering and, although it was delicious and tantalising it was also driving me crazy. In the end I couldn't take it anymore.

"Please, Sandy, what you're doing..."

"Mmmm?"

"It's a bit..."

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No! No, please..."

"I think I will anyway. My hand is getting tired."

"Sandy!"

"I think you're forgetting who's supposed to be the slave around here," he replied with a chuckle. "You're the one supposed to be giving me a good time, not the other way around."

"Yes, master," I replied my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Don't be so cheeky. I fancy a dance. Come along."

He stood up, took me by the hand and led me towards the dance floor. Despite the debauchery going on all around me I couldn't help but be embarrassed by the completely obvious tent sticking out in front of me.

My mother, god bless her, had been of a generation where learning to dance was an important social skill and her flat refusal to believe that times had changed meant that she had forced me to attend Madame d'Ellegance's Ecole de Dance as a teenager. Now, for the first time, those lessons were coming in handy, albeit that I had been taught to lead, not follow. The crooner was going strong with the bum clutchers so, at Sandy's insistence, I draped my arms around his neck, he clutched my bum and we swayed off across the dance floor.

Of course, with my arms raised so too was my costume, what there was of it, and the only thing protecting my bum from the gaze of one and all was Sandy's hands clutching it. Not that anyone cared. I certainly didn't. Sandy was a superb dancer and Madame d'Ellegance - or Mavis Dewsbury as she was called outside the dance studio - would have been proud of how we glided around the dance floor. I buried my head in Sandy's shoulder and let him lead the way.

And there, on the dance floor, everything seemed to just slip away. Dancing with Sandy was so perfect that I forgot about the bizarre circumstances, I forgot about being all but naked, I forgot the orgy that was going on around us. With Sandy's arms around me I felt safe, cherished, and, like Eliza Doolittle, I could have danced all night.

However, that was not to be. The crooner finished his set to be replaced by a disco and neither Sandy nor myself were in the mood for that. He led me off the dance floor and, at first I thought we were going back to our table but, when we got there, he grabbed his clutch bag and led me on, towards the door of the tent. There he grabbed a blanket from a pile, presumably left there forexactly that purpose, and ready at last, he led me out, into the night.

The sky was clear and there was enough of a moon to see by as we made our way across the formal lawns looking for somewhere to settle. We weren't the only couple taking some air but the gardens were big enough for each to find some privacy. It was a little cool so Sandy put the blanket around my shoulders and that kept the chill off. At first we walked hand in hand across well-tended lawns and formally laid out gardens but, beyond that, was a wooded area overlooking a small lake and that's where he took the blanket from me and laid it on the ground.

When we had been kissing earlier we had been sat on the bench and, even allowing for the somewhat relaxed nature of the party, we had been in public. Now, in the deep shadow of the woods, and lying side by side on the blanket, we had no such constraints. In no time my belt was undone and my tunic was no more. Sandy's robes were slightly more complex but, once removed, they acted as covers to snuggle under. 

Moreover, although we had already kissed and cuddled, that had done nothing to prepare me for the sheer bliss of naked flesh upon flesh. As we kissed our bodies entwined and, inevitably, what started with simply pushing my penis against him ended up with me all but dry humping him. Any qualms I might have had earlier about being queer were swept aside by the sheer intensity of my need to feel every inch of my body touch every inch of his.

And then his hands, his hands that had been wandering all over me, reached my bum and I felt his finger pushing against my sphincter. It was as if a bolt of lightning shot through me. He pushed again and I felt it again. 

"Like that, do you?" 

"God, yes! It's the best."

"Well, if you liked that you're going to love this."

He broke from the embrace and reached for his grab bag. There was a moment or two of fumbling and then he returned and, this time, as he reached for my backside, I could feel that his fingers were all slippery. This time, when he pushed against my sphincter his well lubricated finger slid in easily.

"Oh, Jesus! Yes! Please! Deeper!"

Sandy was effectively fucking me with his finger. I had never in my life dreamed that anything could feel so good. All the schoolyard queer jokes had been based on a fear of anal sex but, now I was faced with the real thing, I wanted more. There seemed to be a live wire which shot straight from my arse to my prick and then on to the pleasure centres in my brain. The only problem was that his finger wasn't long enough. Much as I urged him to go deeper he was constrained by having to reach around me and that meant that he couldn't get his forefinger deeper than the first knuckle.

Of course, the fact that he had brought lubricant with him, indeed, the fact that he was lubricating my arse, implied that I wasn't the only one who wanted more. Right from the moment I had accepted Sandy's invitation to sit with him this was where the whole evening had been heading. If I'd wanted to say 'no' then that would have been the point. Although I wasn't completely sure I wanted to say 'yes' it was now the only option left, and the only option I really wanted.

It was time to push the last dregs of my reluctance to one side.

"Sandy, are you... are you going to fuck me?"

"That's the general idea."

"You know I've never... I've never done anything like this before. I don't know if..."

"Have I done anything to hurt you so far?"

"No, no, of course not."

"Then trust me and, you never know, you might just enjoy it. But, first of all, let's get you nice and ready. OK?"

Sandy had me lie down on my front and, then, lying beside me, he used first one, and then two fingers sliding sensuously in and out to open me up and fully lubricate my backside. All the while he was kissing my shoulders and whispering sweet nothings in my ear. In response I began to push back against his fingers. The more he did it the more I relaxed and the more I wanted it. 

"You like that, don't you?"

"Oh, yes please."

"But it's not just my fingers you want, is it?"

I hardly dare answer. Part of me wanted more, part of me didn't. 

"Well?" Sandy emphasised his question by pushing his fingers deeper inside me. "Tell me what you want."

"I want... I want your prick inside me."

"And what's the magic word?"

"Please, Sandy, please fuck me. Please, I want it so much."

"How can I refuse one who asks so sweetly." He removed his fingers from my backside, knelt between my outstretched legs and leant over me. He lifted my hips until I was kneeling and then, as he spread my buttocks with one hand, with the other he guided his prick so that it was pushing against my entrance. His fingers had slipped in easily but this was broader, blunter, larger. I had a sudden burst of panic Would he fit? Would I be able to do this? Would it hurt? He must have sensed my nerves because he stopped pushing and just rested tip of his prick against my sphincter. 

"You're doing fine. OK? Now, see if you can relax a bit, that makes it better," and, with that, he pushed once more and the tip of his prick was inside me.

Nothing I had ever felt before compared to this. I felt stretched to the limit but, for all that, I wanted more. Did it hurt? Well, maybe, just a bit, but that was the chilli spice that flavoured this exotic meal and it wouldn't have been as half as good without it. It certainly didn't stop me wanting him to impale me, take me, master me. He pushed again and, this time, went deeper, maybe an inch or so inside me. Slowly he rocked his hips and I rocked with him and, bit by bit, as our hips swayed together, he slipped deeper and deeper inside me. I felt full, so full, full to bursting but I still wanted more. I started to push back, welcoming him into me until, finally, he was buried to the hilt.

Now that we were fully conjoined he reached down and took me by the hips. His hands were there to guide, not hold, but they made it clear who was in control. Now that he was deep inside me the true fucking could begin.

Even so, it was so not what I was expecting. I had thought that he would pound into me like some sort of jack hammer. Instead he was slow and sensuous. He was taking his time, letting us both savour every inch of pleasure as he slid back and forth. He would withdraw, almost to the edge, and then slide back in again, allowing us both to relish the exquisite nuances as flesh slid against flesh. 

And, with each stroke it became easier. He was still huge within me, I was still as full as ever, but the hornier I got, the more I seemed to open up and welcome him.

Gradually he pushed harder, faster, deeper. The hands on my hips gripped firmer, pulling me back onto him. The sensuality was being overlaid by a sense of urgency. I could feel him climbing that last slope, reaching for the peak, pushing, pushing, pushing... The strokes became shorter, more urgent as if, each time, he were trying to reach a little further, to dig a little deeper.

Until, with a deep, animal grunt, he slammed his prick into me as hard as he could as he climaxed and I felt him pump his seed deep, deep inside me.

And then he was spent. Together we fell forward so that I was once again prone on my stomach, this time with him lying on top of me and with his prick still buried inside me and, for a while, we just lay there. He was drained, exhausted and I, lying beneath him, felt replete. I hadn't come but that didn't matter. There was a wonderful inner glow from feeling him still within me, feeling him relaxing, feeling his pleasure and knowing it had come from me.

"Thank you. That was special, very special," he gasped once he had recovered enough breath to speak. His prick, now flaccid, slipped out of my backside and he rolled off me.

"No, I should thank you," I replied and I meant it. I was truly grateful for the way he had made me feel.

"Why should you feel the need to thank me?" he asked as he gathered me into his arms.

"For making my first time special."

"Well, it was special for both of us. Now, let's get you sorted out." 

He cradled me into the crook of his left arm as he reached down and, once again, started to stroke my prick but, this time, there was a sense of purpose about it.

"So, no regrets?"

"Uh huh. None at all."

"Didn't think so. I knew from the moment I saw you that I just had to end up screwing you. You looked so sweet and pretty, standing there all shy and embarrassed but, I knew, that there was a randy little sod lurking just underneath the surface. And, now that I've fucked you once, I want to fuck you again and again and again. Would you like that? Would you like me to fuck you again? Would you?" Relentlessly his fingers pumped my prick, I could feel the sperm boiling within me, I could feel myself being carried unstoppably towards my climax. I couldn't do anything to stop it. Sandy was in control, Sandy was making me come, Sandy was making it happen...

"Oh! My! God!"

He didn't miss a beat but pumped and pumped as the sperm erupted from me. Never, ever, had an orgasm felt this good. Never, ever, had an orgasm felt this special.

"Enough! Enough!" I gasped as, drained and depleted, I collapsed in a heap onto his chest. I was shaking with emotion, overcome by the sheer intensity of it all. Sandy held me close and stroked my hair, cuddling me as he might a child.

"All OK?" he asked once I had calmed down a bit.

"Perfect. Thank you."

I wanted, and I'm sure we both wanted, just to lie there holding each other but it wasn't that long before the sticky mess all over our chests started to get a bit much.

"I need to get cleaned up. Have you got anything?"

"We're out in the middle of nowhere. We could use your slave costume but you look so sweet wearing it I'd prefer not." Sandy sat up and looked around. "We could go for a dip in the lake."

I sat up as well. The lake was purely ornamental but there was a short jetty poking maybe five or six feet out into it.

"Last one in's a sissy!" I leapt up and ran down to the lake, along the jetty and jumped. The water, while not freezing, was cold enough to be a shock to the system. When I sorted myself out I found I was standing in water that came to around my waist. Judging by the squishy feeling under my feet the bottom was all muddy. I looked up at the jetty to see Sandy standing on the end of it looking down.

"Sissy! Sissy!" I taunted. 

Rather gingerly Sandy sat on the end of the jetty before sliding off to stand next to me.

"Jesus it's cold!" I splashed him. "Stop that you impetuous child."

"Stop calling me child or I'll splash you again."

"So, what should I call you, slave?"

I moved closer and put my arms around his waist, pulling us together.

"You can call me whatever you want as long as you call me."

And there, standing waist deep in the cold water, we kissed and kissed and kissed.

However, it was far too cold to linger. We'd splashed enough to clean ourselves off so we clambered out and returned to the blanket.

"God, I'm freezing. Whose bright idea was it to go skinny dipping."

"That would be yours. Now come here and cuddle. That will soon warm us up.

We used my slave costume to dry off the worst of the water and then lay on the blanket cuddled together under Sandy's robes. The skinny dipping had acted as a cold shower so neither of us were particularly amorous and, apart from the occasional kiss, we just chatted.

"So," asked Sandy after a while, "at the risk of resorting to cliché, what's a nice boy like you doing in a place like this?"

"Well, you're here so it can't be completely bad."

"Ah, but I'm the man your mum warned you about. A bad, bad man who seduces sweet little boys and turns them into queers."

"I don't believe you're like that at all."

"No, of course I'm not but that still doesn't answer my question: what are you doing here."

"Getting my Equity card."

"You what!" Sandy burst out laughing. "And how is acting as a rent boy supposed to get you your Equity card."

"Andy, Andy Ferguson told me that if I did this for him then he'd get me one."

"My dear boy, all Andy Ferguson will get you is a dose of the clap. How on earth did you get involved with him?"

So I told Sandy the story and he just listened, shaking his head from time to time at my naivety.

"Andy Ferguson is a... procurer. If you want something a little bit dodgy, some hash, some charlie, a girl, a boy for that matter, Andy Ferguson is the person you go to. He's here tonight because, well, who else can round up this many rent boys at the drop of a hat. What's more, pound to a penny says that half the guests are chopping out the lines in there. He is not, repeat not, someone you ought to be involved with. Anyway, why do you want an Equity card."

And so I told him all about my hopes and dreams of becoming an actor. I won't say he laughed but you could tell he had heard it all before. I was, in his eyes, yet another star struck kid who hadn't got a clue.

And he was so easy to talk to. In fact, cuddled together, we talked and talked and talked. It turned out he worked in production - 'strictly backroom, darling, but that's where the real work is done. All those prima donnas out on the film sets, simply insufferable and, when it came to the actors...' It turned out that he knew everyone and was, more importantly, friends with everyone.

"Could you get me an Equity card?"

"What, so you can work as an extra?"

"That's what I want."

"No, it isn't. It's what you think you want. Trust me, I've been in this game long enough to know those who have it and those who don't and, to put it bluntly, you don't. Aw, have I hurt you? Believe me, if you want to get on in film then the best friends you'll have are the ones that tell you the truth even when it hurts, no, especially when it hurts."

It still wasn't what I wanted to hear and he could tell I didn't like it so he pulled me further into his arms and, for a while, we just held each other, huddled together under the trees.

The next thing I knew the sun was well up and someone was shaking my shoulder.

"Come on, you'll miss the bus!"

I rolled over. One of the other slaves was standing over us. I looked at Sandy, still sleeping soundly. 

"Never mind him. Come on!"

I slipped out from under Sandy's robe, grabbed my costume, and, still naked, followed the other slave back to the tent. We went straight through to the kitchen area where most of the slaves were already dressed. I found my clothes and put them on.

"Here you go, Johnny boy, one pony as agreed." Andy Ferguson was handing out envelopes full of cash.

I glanced in the envelope and there were two tens and a five. 

"You didn't seem to have too many problems. All that coyness before we started soon disappeared." He put his arm around my shoulders. "Last I saw you were out on the dance floor while Sandy gave you a good old feel up. I do hope he tipped well. Add that to the pony I've just handed over and you can't complain, can you?"

"I suppose not, Mr Ferguson."

"You suppose not? Don't tell me you're having doubts again. From what I saw, you fitted in just fine. Talking of which, I've got another similar gig I'd like you to work on. A bit more personal this time, a bit more one-on-one. I think I can stretch to fifty on that one."

"A similar gig?"

"Well, the same sort of thing."




That Summer - Alice's Story



By extremely popular and somewhat emphatic demand, here is the companion to my story "That Summer." This is not a sequel by the traditional definition but there was some part of my story that was begging to be told after I completed it. I only ever intended to make it a stand alone story and honestly, I think it best represented all I wanted; the song, a brief but intense summer romance and the longings left behind.

So thank you if you were one who sent me positive feedback and I hope you enjoy this installment. Hopefully it answers any lingering questions you may have had. Though I will warn you now, this is all there will be to "That Summer," any more and it would lose some of its magic. My apologies if you disagree but that is my opinion.

Happy Reading!

M.

***

Most nights I never thought about it.

It was a long time ago and it did me no good to dwell on the past. I missed him of course and I could never forget the way he made me feel when he held me in his arms. But dwelling on that and missing him didn't change the fact that I had a farm to run and a life to live.

I lived alone on the farm for months after my husband's death. Many neighbors and family members spent a lot of time "checking in" on me that first year, ensuring I was eating - as if I'd starve myself because Todd had died - and making sure I wasn't working too hard. Well, there wasn't much I could do about the work unfortunately and so I accepted much of their help with gratitude.

After that first summer alone on the Square One, I decided to start hiring help for the busy months. Family and friends had more than enough suggestions for young men and high school boys looking for work throughout the summer months. For the next five years, I hired on three or four to help me. But then the profits began to drop off and I couldn't afford to keep more than one or two. After another two years, I could barely keep a single helper on hand for three months in the summer.

It was beginning to feel hopeless at that point. How was I supposed to keep a farm running and successful if I couldn't get enough help to keep it running day to day?

The house began to suffer for the loss first; shutters falling off hinges and the porch steps creaking ominously season after season. Soon there were leaks in some spots of the roof and instead of patching them, I merely shut up the rooms and avoided them altogether. I ate little through those two years, keeping to simple fare like potatoes and salad every night, food I could make using what I grew myself.

I eventually began to sell off the stock, first some of the smaller cattle, getting some profit off their pedigrees; Square One had been known for generations as an excellent source of breeding stock. I thinned the herd down to a more manageable number and still couldn't seem to make enough.

That spring of 1976 I came to a decision; I'd have to sell the Square One. It broke my heart to let it go but without Todd around to work his magic, I was left with little choice. I could use the proceeds from the sale to get a nice place in town and do something different for a living, something I actually enjoyed. So for the last season, I decided to hire only one person to help clean up the place, do repairs and maintenance that had been so woefully neglected over the years.

While in town one day, I ran into Madeleine Harvey, a woman who'd known my mother for years. We chatted lightly on the street corner with the sun sparkling brightly over our heads. Eventually the conversation turned to the farm and I admitted sadly to the older woman that this would be my last summer there.

"Oh dear," she exclaimed, her ready smile fading from her wrinkled face. She smiled weakly and patted my arm. "Are you sure that's what you really want?"

"Whether I want it or not, I have little choice," I replied. Although touched by her sympathy, I couldn't help the twinge of annoyance I felt at her tone. Everyone I'd come across in recent weeks had given me the same reaction when told of my plans for the Square One, though not always the same exact words; "You can't sell the Jenkins farm!" or "Oh, but Todd never would never have sold the Square One." Well, Todd just wasn't around anymore was he?

"I suppose it has been difficult for you since Todd passed," Madeleine said with a nod. "If you need anything, dear, just let me know. I'm only a few miles away."

I laughed lightly and nodded. "Thank you Madeleine. Actually, if you know of anyone looking to get a job for the summer, I haven't hired anyone yet."

"You're still hiring someone for the summer?" She said, her brows drawing together in concentration. "I might know of someone. My friend Rachel, her niece has a college-age boy who's coming home for the summer apparently."

"Oh? And they live around here?"

"They're in the city," Madeleine replied. "Would you like me to have Rachel's niece call you?"

"Absolutely. You still have my number?"

"Yes, dear. I'll tell her to call you this week."

"Thank you very much, Madeleine. I'll talk to you later!" And with that, I turned around and headed for home.

Sure enough, that very weekend a woman named Janet called me. We spoke for a while, discussing many things. She'd actually grown up in the same town and we'd gone to the same schools, although she was quite a bit older than me. Still, it was nice to reminisce.

"So I understand you are looking to hire someone on for the summer?" Janet asked after some time.

"Yes, I own a farm called Square One," I explained quickly what type of farm it was and what kind of work I'd be getting my helper to do all summer.

"Well, my son Erik is just coming home from his first year of college in another week and my husband and I are trying to find something for him to do," she said.

"How old is he?" I had to ask.

"Nineteen last month," Janet told me. "He's a good boy." Something in her tone made me smile, as though she was trying to convince herself that he was as she said.

"But...?" I prompted gently, letting the question hang in the air. I'd hired on some pretty tough kids in the past years, some had just had bad attitudes but there had been a couple who'd had a brush with the law; vandalism, theft, basic teenage boy stuff that I could hardly blame them for since I'd met Todd when he'd been living through the same phase.

On the other end of the phone, Janet sighed and I could almost see her readjusting her position as we spoke.

"We made a deal with him at the beginning of his school year," she began. "We would pay for the year so long as he kept his grades up. If he couldn't, then we'd find him a job during the summer to pay for his own tuition."

"Sound fair," I put in, sipping my coffee and tapping my toe against the leg of the kitchen table.

"I thought so too," she agreed and sighed again. "But we just found out a week ago that he failed two classes."

"Oh dear."

"Yes. So we've been scrambling, trying to find him work for the summer. My husband is going to pick him up from school this weekend and we have to have something lined up or he'll just mope around all summer."

In spite of myself I chuckled. I had no wish to offend Janet by laughing, but I could just picture another teenage boy coming home to a summer of lectures and guilt from his parents.

"Well, he won't have an easy time of it here," I warned her after a moment. "Its decent pay but he'll earn every penny of it."

"Good!" She exclaimed and then laughed at herself. "Don't get me wrong, I love my son but he's had a rough year. I think it might do him some good to get out of the city and do something productive for a change."

"It'll be productive, that's for sure," I replied with a laugh of my own. Inside my head though I was listing all the things around the house and property that would need repairs before this place would be fit for sale.

Janet and I chatted for a while longer, making arrangements for her husband to drive Erik to Square One the first weekend in June. She gave me their phone number and we wished each other well for a nice summer.

***

The days passed by quickly and before I knew it, I had another call from Janet, informing me that her husband and son were en route to my farm. They'd be arriving in less than three hours. I thanked her and hung up the phone. I headed to the tiny room above the garage and tidied up, throwing fresh sheets on the bed and adding another heavy blanket. It could get very cold in this room at night and I didn't want to be responsible for killing the kid.

Then I headed downstairs to start something for dinner. It was already late in the afternoon and by the time they arrived, it'd be the dinner hour. So I put something together and threw it in the oven to cook. Another hour passed as I went over the accounting books for the farm in the kitchen.

At last I heard a car approaching up the long driveway. I stowed the books in a cupboard and made my way to the front of the house as a knock sounded on the front door. I walked to the door and opened it to see an older man, Janet's husband and Erik's father standing there, smiling broadly at me. I returned the smile before my eyes slid to the face of the young man standing next to him.

It shouldn't have affected me the way that it did, seeing him standing there, an astonished look on his face. Something about his expression did something to me though and I felt my heart patter wildly for an instant within my chest.

No one had looked at me like that since Todd died.

The breath caught in my throat and I was struck silent for a minute. Then I smiled widely and turned slightly towards the younger man as his father introduced us. Something his father said caused Erik to blush a deep red and exclaim sharply in retort. Hearing this and seeing his wounded expression, I immediately felt sympathy for the younger man.

Smiling again, I spoke to him, the poor dear. "Nice to meet you, Erik." I did not expect the little shiver to run up my spine as I spoke his name for the first time.

I think he mumbled something that sounded like a similar greeting but I couldn't understand around the roaring of the blood in my ears. After another few words with Erik's father and a hand shake, they walked together to stand next to the car. His father gave him what I suspected were encouraging words about how much fun he'd have this summer. When his father finally drove off and left him standing alone in my gravel driveway, I felt my heart leap into my throat.

Oh god, I thought suddenly. Am I going to have to make conversation with him now?

I stood still on the porch, unable to move. My eyes followed his movements as he slowly turned from the dusty trail left behind by his father's car. Then he walked up the porch steps and stopped in front of me, not quite looking me in the eye. I stifled a smile at his demeanor and felt immediately better about the entire situation.

At least I wasn't the only one disconcerted by our meeting. But I was the adult and so I pulled myself together, sternly but silently reprimanding my heart for its erratic behavior before turning towards the house.

"I bet you must be tired from your trip," I spoke up, breaking the silence. "Come on, I'll show you to where you'll be staying. You can rest for today and we can start in the morning."

I grabbed one of his suitcases as I spoke and turned to walk inside without waiting to hear a response. I figured he'd follow rather than risk being left outdoors all night. I smiled to myself when I heard the screen door bang shut as he entered the house behind me.

All the way through the house and up those back stairs I tried not to think about him staring at my ass. In spite of myself, I felt a flush creeping up my neck and in seconds I was overheating. I hurried up the last few steps to the little room over the garage, wanting to leave him and get a grip on myself somehow.

I explained that the room had belonged to my nephew the summer before. As I followed his gaze around the small room, I cringed inwardly, knowing how tiny it must seem to someone from the city.

"Hopefully you aren't too cramped in here," I added as an afterthought.

He still didn't say anything, his eyes roving over the sparse furnishings. Suddenly his eyes swept to my face and my breath caught in my throat. I realized then that I'd been staring and I smiled to cover my guilt.

"You don't say much, do you?" I said out loud.

He blushed that remarkable red color again and I couldn't stop the smile from spreading wider across my face. Then I laughed lightly and waved a hand at him.

I assured him that I didn't mind his shyness. I privately found it endearing and was rewarded with a tentative smile. It completely transformed his face and I nodded in satisfaction. It would be very easy to like him.

Too easy.

I informed him that dinner would be ready soon and he could join me when he was settled. Then I left the room, shutting the door firmly behind me. I stood on the landing for a minute though, breathing deeply and trying to calm the beating of my heart. In spite of my earlier reproach, the organ was trotting along at its own carefree pace, leaving me breathless in Erik's presence.

After that minute passed, I felt solid enough to descend the staircase, shaking my head as I went. He was just a boy, after all. Hardly old enough to even know about women. I smiled at the thought of him trying to speak to girls his own age and I wondered if he blushed the same way with them.

Laughing to myself as I reached the kitchen, I bustled about, convinced at last that it must have just been a momentary lapse; a touch of faintness because of the heat and humidity outside. I had been inside all day after all and the oven had been heating the house for the better part of the day with dinner tucked inside.

Reminded of the task at hand, I removed the dish and set about making a salad. By the time Erik clomped down the back stairs, I was quite in control of myself again.

That is, until he smiled that shy smile at me after I caught him staring at my ass.

This was going to be a long summer.

***

The first few nights with Erik in the house were pure torture. To know that a healthy young man was sleeping mere feet away from my bedroom was enough to keep me awake until the wee hours of the morning. As a result, I was less than chatty in the mornings and could only conjure enough presence of mind to give him chores around the house.

Finally on the sixth night, when I thought the loss of sleep and crazed thoughts would drive me mad, I slunk under my bedspread and squeezed my eyes shut. Then I did something I'd never done, not in all the time I'd been married, or widowed for that matter.

Slowly I slid a hand between my legs, under the cotton waistband of my panties and through the curls above my moist womanhood. I gasped as I touched myself there, surprised to find myself so wet. Even with Todd it had taken some coaxing on his part to get me this excited. Now, the mere presence of a virile young man was enough to send me careening towards this, my current state of unrest.

I moved my hand, my fingers slipping lightly over the sensitive lips. I sighed and eased one finger inside the warm hole, my mouth dropping open as I did so. Then I pulled my hand up and stroked that slightly protruding nub that used to draw so much of Todd's attention. He'd always enjoyed lying between my legs, his cheek pressed against my thigh as he lapped at me with his tongue, crooning in between motions about how sweet my clit tasted.

Moaning, I began to stroke faster, seeing instead the youthful face of my summer helper looking up at me. His eyes shone in the darkness of my room and when he smiled his sweet, shy smile, I came. I exploded, years of pent up sexual energy washing over me in seemingly unending waves.

After several minutes of stars circling my head and my rough attempts to catch my breath, I rolled over and pressed my face to the pillow beneath my head, wishing I could take back all the ungodly noises I was certain I'd just made. I couldn't help but wonder if Erik had heard any of what I'd cried out in the midst of my release. Shaking my head at my own thoughtlessness, I rolled onto my back once more and fell into a somewhat restful sleep.

In the morning I told myself that I was overreacting. Erik had been working so hard on the house over the past week that he must be sleeping like a log at night. There's no chance he'd heard me the night before. And even if he had, he wasn't forward enough to say anything about it. At the most, he'd blush and hurry outside without breakfast. The thought made me smile and I shrugged. Now that I'd got it out of my system, maybe I'd be able to sleep better at night too.

But as Erik walked down the stairs into the kitchen that morning, I knew it wasn't true. He looked just as appealing as he had before I'd made myself climax the night before.

Damnit!

So the summer wore on. I took to pleasuring myself nearly every night in an effort to erase the desire I was feeling.

It's absurd! I thought one evening as I handed him several extra blankets to ward off the chill at night. Here he is freezing his ass off every night and all I can think about is ways to keep him warm. That don't include these damn blankets.

It was all I could do not to throw myself at him whenever he walked into the kitchen for breakfast or dinner. I had to turn away half the time just so he wouldn't see my mouth gaping or hear me gasping for air. Even the fact that he refused to use my given name seemed to incite something inside of me.

I'd very nearly accosted him the day I'd wrapped his hand after a nasty cut he'd sustained while working. It had been a considerable feat of mental strength to keep from sliding into his lap and sucking on his ear lobe. That such a thought even entered into my mind shocked me. I'd turned away as soon as the bandage was tied and served him a piece of cake to cover my own discomfort.

I felt like a teenager again, not a thirty-one year old woman who owned her own farm and who'd been married once for three years. Who the hell was this kid that he could do this to me? Or was it just that he was a male and I had been without affection for so long? I couldn't figure it out and if I was being honest with myself, I didn't care.

For several weeks I simply told myself that there was nothing to be done for it, beyond what I was already doing of course. But my fingers were tired and my body ached for something more.

The weekend of July the 1st rolled around before I knew it and I spent the better part of that morning pacing in the yard near the house. There were many tasks I could be taking care of but instead I reminisced about the few summers I'd had with Todd and how we'd celebrate in town with all the other people we'd known all our lives. This wouldn't be the first summer I hadn't gone to town for the big picnic and all the games but somehow I knew my reasons for not going this year were entirely new.

My eyes scanned the horizon as the day wore on and I frowned when I saw the thunderheads forming in the distance. Sighing in resignation, I went inside to start dinner. I knew Erik would be heading in from the fields soon and I made a point of always having dinner ready promptly at six o'clock, if only so I'd know exactly when I'd see him again.

I was just removing the casserole dish from the oven when the door opened and Erik entered, in something of a hurry. The wind swept past the house outside and the door banged shut behind him. He winced and put a hand out to stop it belatedly. Smiling, I carried the casserole dish to the table.

"It's going to be bad, I think," I remarked casually as I set the dish down.

Erik nodded his agreement as he sat down across from me.




That Summer - Alice's Story



"Go ahead and help yourself, Erik," I said, gesturing at the dishes between us.

We fell mostly silent as we ate, Erik serving himself a second helping before I'd even realized he'd finished his first. It was satisfying in a way I hadn't expected to see him so obviously enjoying the meal. When at last it appeared he was slowing down, I rose from the table and began to clear the dishes, again apologizing for keeping him from the festivities in town that day.

"It's ok, Ms. Jenkins," he replied quickly and my heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice sounding out my name.

In an effort to cover my reaction, I smiled at him and told him to stop calling me that. He countered by saying it again and adding that his mother always taught him to address a lady properly.

I grinned then, feeling the familiar ache settle low in my belly when he called me a lady.

"A lady?" I repeated incredulously, unsure suddenly if he'd actually said that.

Under my gaze, he flushed an alarming shade of red and looked away. I couldn't help but laugh. It was strangely comforting to know that he was as uncomfortable around me as I was around him. Only my age and experience seemed to give me the talent and strength to disguise it more effectively.

When he didn't say anything, I spoke again. "Your parents must be really nice people. They certainly raised you right."

His response was a genuine laugh and my knees actually trembled when the deep sound reached my ears. The chair scraped the floor as he stood up and I felt him approach the sink where I stood. I looked up with a smile and felt his warm eyes slide across my face before meeting my gaze. He was saying something about his parents not agreeing with him but to this day, I can't be sure of that. All I was aware of that moment was how close he stood to me and how he smelled of the outdoors and wild grass.

I swallowed and managed to sound coherent when I spoke again. "You don't have to stick around while I do the dishes, Erik," I told him and was rewarded with another blush and bashful lowering of his eyelashes.

"I don't mind helping out, Ms. Jenkins," he murmured in a low voice and moved away from me, towards the kitchen table.

My knees just about gave out then. My temperature must have spiked suddenly and I felt light-headed. Somehow I managed to speak again and I tried to keep my voice light as I did.

"Erik, I will fire you this minute if you call me Ms. Jenkins one more time," I said, squeezing the living daylights out of the washcloth in my hand. Slowly I turned to look at him and he was gazing back at me, a surprised expression on his young face, his mouth hanging slightly open. I knew then that my voice had betrayed me and he looked as nervous and shut off from me as he had that first day.

"All right," he finally muttered, not taking his eyes from my face.

I was the first to turn away, murmuring something in response and continued to wash the dishes in the sink. When I didn't stray from my task, I heard Erik move around the kitchen, muttering something about checking the windows and doors before the storm hit. At his words, I looked up and out the window over the sink, frowning once again at the storm clouds I saw now looming much closer than before.

I couldn't help but wonder if the old house and other buildings would be able to withstand another strong storm. Those clouds and that wind were shaping into a particularly wicked tempest and I was not looking forward to the wreckage in the morning. Then I saw Erik's tall, lean form stride with purpose across the yard before the window and my breath stopped short. Cursing at myself and my troublesome desires, I hurriedly finished the dishes and bolted from the kitchen before Erik came back inside.

Upstairs in my bedroom, I paced for what felt like hours. Sleep was the furthest thing from my mind and I knew that the moment I lay in bed I'd begin touching myself again. Something inside me told me that it just wouldn't be enough. Not anymore. Not tonight.

I heard the kitchen door open with a bang and then shut again a moment later. The sound halted my frantic pacing and I listened to the sound of Erik's steps on the back stairs. Another few seconds passed and I heard his bedroom door shut.

Heaving a heavy sigh, I collapsed onto the bench at the foot of my bed and covered my face with my hands.

I had no idea what I was going to do. The summer wasn't even half gone and I was more than half-crazed. Erik was a good boy, he deserved to earn his pay this summer and finish school and go on to become a doctor or lawyer or something equally grand. He didn't need some washed up widow pining for him and lusting after his youthful body. No matter what I told myself though, I couldn't stop my heart from pounding and keeping me up late that night.

Eventually I reached a strange state of being. My mind stilled as a moment of calm in the storm reached the farm. I glanced out the window and saw the tallest trees bending in the wind and saw the occasional splatter of rain against the glass. I stood up and walked across my room, into my closet where my fingers passed over the multitude of hanging clothes.

Of their own accord, my hands pulled out a soft blue dress that I hadn't worn in ages. It was nearly threadbare and for a moment I wasn't sure why I'd held on to such an overused dress. Then the memory washed over me and I allowed myself a moment to recall the night Todd had proposed to me. Minutes after slipping the ring on my hand, he'd slid his hands up my legs under this blue skirt and taken my virginity in the sweet spring night.

One moment and then I was undressing, shedding my work clothes, leaving the jeans and plaid shirt in a pile on the floor so I could bring the soft dress down over my head. It settled in a pleasing shape around my body and I smoothed a single hand down the front before turning from the closet.

I didn't head directly into his bedroom. Instead I went downstairs to the kitchen and made a small pot of coffee. The heady aroma filled my nostrils and I breathed deeply, the caffeine fumes enough to give me the last of the courage I was seeking.

The storm breathed new life against the house, rattling the window panes and sending a shiver down my spine as I filled two porcelain mugs with the steaming coffee. As I walked slowly up those back stairs, I heard with perfect clarity the wind howling against the outer walls of the house. My heart pounded in unison with the gusts as they swept dirt and leaves against the siding and my breathing caught in my throat yet again as a resounding boom of thunder split my ear drums.

So it was with a strange buzzing in my ears that I paused at the landing before Erik's door, two cups of coffee in my hands. Drawing in a deep breath, I stepped closer and tapped gently on the rough wooden door.

For a moment I thought he might be sleeping. Then I knocked again, determined to resolve this. After a third knock, I heard him stirring beyond the door and I held my breath in silence until he opened the door, standing shirtless before me.

Focus on his face, I told myself and allowed myself to smile anyway, my mind already turning over the possibilities his bare chest presented me with.

"Did I wake you?" I whispered, grateful that it didn't squeak with apprehension. Seeing the expression on his face made me pause, wondering if I was wrong about coming to his room.

Slowly he shook his head in response to my question and I breathed a sigh of relief, uncertain if I even spoke out loud. His eyes slipped from mine to rest on my hands and the two curls of steam rising over the mugs. He asked if one of those was for him, his voice deep and sure and I smiled, handing one over. Then I took the plunge.

"May I come in?" I asked and without waiting for him to reject me, I swept past him into the room. I felt a moment of awkwardness, standing in the middle of his space before I crossed to the lone rocking chair on one side and sitting down. I looked up at Erik, still standing near the doorway, the mug of coffee looking tiny in his large hands. I made up a reason for showing up at this ungodly hour outside his bedroom and I hoped as I spoke about what happened in the kitchen earlier that he couldn't tell I was lying.

But then a funny thing happened. I realized I meant what I was saying to him; about our dinners together and how much I wanted him to enjoy his time at Square One. After all, it was only the summer and he didn't have much more to endure. Then he spoke, more words than he had since I'd arrived at his bedroom door and the strength of his tone stopped me short.

"What?"

"It's not long at all," he said, flushing now and looking down at the coffee mug in his hand.

Something about his tone got to me and I studied his face carefully. Was I imagining things?

"Um, I mean, it doesn't seem like a long time. Like, I haven't been here a long time either," he was stammering and it was so endearing I almost laughed. I tried to actually listen to his words though, turning my focus from his delightful mouth to his eyes. Not that that helped much; his eyes were so dark in that dim bedroom with the single bedside lamp that it was suddenly difficult to breathe.

"No?" I managed to respond to his words, smiling as I did so.

"Well, no. No, it doesn't feel like it's been all that long," he continued. "And two months doesn't seem long enough-" Suddenly he stopped and this time before he dropped his eyes, I saw what I needed to see there.

My heart slowed almost to stopping and I dimly heard him apologize. But I was already moving.

"For what?" I asked, slipping from the creaking rocking chair, leaving my mug on the floor next to it.

"For..." he started but stopped shortly after, shaking his head and flushing an even deeper shade of red.

Then I was on the bed next to him and I could feel the heat rising from his broad shoulders in waves. I breathed it in, soaking up his masculine scent as I shifted closer.

"Don't be sorry, Erik." Please, please don't be sorry.

He looked at me and I looked at him. I felt him breathing and knew he was breathing me in as well. I heard a roaring in my ears as I reached for his hands, gently slipping the mug of coffee from his grasp. I was speaking, saying something about what he'd wanted to say before he'd cut himself off; something about not having enough time to really get to know each other. I wasn't entirely sure of my words, instead watching his face.

He didn't look frightened or disgusted and that was a very good start. It was all I'd needed really. Any resistance and I would have fled his room in an instant, knowing that I'd been wrong about all his looks and words before this moment.

"Well," I heard the words as if they were being spoken by someone outside this moment, someone detached and observant. "Let's not waste any more time." Somehow my hand had risen to his face and I gently stroked his cheek as a clap of thunder split the stillness.

Before my courage abandoned me, I leaned forward, my eyelids falling shut as I kissed him, just pressing my lips against his. I breathed his breath and tilted my head just slightly, my lips sliding gently over his.

A moment passed before I realized he wasn't touching me and wasn't kissing me back. I drew back with a small frown and looked up at him in concern. Had I been wrong?

"Erik?" I whispered, apprehension flooding me suddenly.

"Wh-what...what are you doing?" He asked, his face still flushed and his body tense.

But I heard it in his voice. He was just young and didn't know how to express himself well enough yet.

"Getting to know you better," I responded simply and leaned forward to capture his lips with my own again.

He breathed my name as our lips met and I felt all my desire speed through my body before exploding in heated wetness between my legs. I held on to him for dear life, clutching his shoulders, my fingers digging into his warm flesh. I pulled him closer, sliding against him as I did so. He broke the kiss suddenly, pulling back and looking deeply into my eyes.

Not speaking, he just stared at me, his eyes moving across my face and down to my open mouth. I realized then I was breathing hard, my chest rising and falling rapidly. For a split second I thought I'd frightened him but then his hand lifted from the bed to settle on my waist.

At his touch, my mouth fell open further and I leaned forward. Then his other hand rose to my neck and I sighed, shutting my eyes and tipping my head to feel the warmth of his hand against my cheek.

"Alice," he murmured and I barely heard him around the wailing storm outside and the roiling desire in my body.

"What?"

"I don't...I, uh, I mean, I'm not...I don't know..." he was stuttering again and his voice was trembling.

Reluctantly I opened my eyes and smiled, trying to find some way of soothing him, of assuring him that he was doing nothing wrong; that we were doing nothing wrong. My words came out simply enough, "Erik, its ok," but he shook his head, still uncertain.

"But I've never-" he began to protest again but I trapped any further words with my fingers, stopping him from speaking and talking us both out of this.

"That's all right," I whispered and kissed him again.

With this kiss, I felt him let go. He ceased to be nervous and grasped me tightly, his strong hands closing on my body and sending a thrill through me. I put my arms up around his shoulders and pulled him tightly against me. I pressed my tongue inside his mouth, knowing he wouldn't be the first one to do it and I was astounded when he engaged me, pressing back with his own tongue.

I began to feel light-headed, my chest constricting and I broke away, gasping for air. I smiled up at him and slowly moved my hands from his shoulders, over his chest and down to the waistband of his pants. I heard his sharp intake of breath and reveled in my power over him. Then I slowly slid my fingers beneath the elastic waist of his pants and searched for what he had to offer.

When I encountered his erection, I was pleasantly surprised yet again. I was not sure if I said anything out loud but from his responding grin, I must have done or said something right. Looking into his eyes, I grinned too and leaned away to turn off the bedside lamp. Turning back to him, I practically crawled into his lap and was relieved to feel his arms circle me, drawing me closer. I lifted my face for another kiss and moaned, softening against him, feeling the heat rushing just beneath my skin.

God, but I just wanted to get closer to him. His mouth devoured mine and his tongue glided ruthlessly in and out, back and forth, drawing another strangled sound from me. I groped his body, searching for his hands. I took hold of his left hand, bringing it immediately to my thigh. I wanted to feel his hands on me, moving on my skin and he obliged, squeezing my thigh as I planted kisses along his jaw and down to his neck.

He tasted so amazing, the sweat on his skin giving him such a tangy flavor, I felt I could drink nothing but him for days. The muscles and tendons in his neck and shoulders were tense and slid underneath his skin as his hand moved higher up my leg, moving the flimsy dress aside. I withdrew my hand, needing to hold myself up by grasping his shoulders. As I did that, I felt his hand touch my panties and I gasped, feeling fresh moisture settle between my legs.

"Alice," he murmured and I bit my lower lip at the deep sound of his voice saying my name. It was the most erotic thing I'd heard in years.

I turned my head to his, seeking his soft lips yet again. He kissed me back, his tongue delving into my mouth without any hesitation this time. His kisses were heady and I slid from his arms, lying back on the bed. I didn't want to stop kissing him but there were certainly many other things I wanted to do with him that night.

"Come here, Erik," I ordered softly, waggling a finger at him in what I hoped was a sexy gesture. It had been so long, I didn't know if I could still pull off sexy.

He leaned over me and I reached for him, putting my hands on his broad shoulders and caressing the strong muscles there. He had unquestionably developed some definition and I loved the feeling of his youth hovering above me. I met his eyes and blushed inexplicably. There was such an expression of intensity in his dark eyes that it made me shiver.

"Erik, are you just going to stare at me all night?" I asked, feeling my cheeks burning as another bolt of lightning split the night sky outside the window. As I spoke, I ran my hands from his shoulders and over his chest, grazing his nipples as I went, delighted when I felt them harden to my touch.

"I just don't want to rush anything," he replied softly. "I don't want to forget this moment."

I felt tears burn the backs of my eyelids at his words and understood at last that this was his first time. That he was willing to do this with me made me feel so...I didn't know. There were no words.

"Oh Erik," I whispered and pulled him down to me, kissing his lips hungrily. He pulled back though and I laughed. "It's ok, Erik. You're not too heavy. I want to feel you on top of me." I moved my hand down as I said this, grasping his heavy erection through the thin fabric of his pajama pants. I looked up at him through my eyelashes and grinned. "I want to feel every bit of you, Erik."

The tendons in his neck stood out in bold relief and I bit my lower lip, stroking him slowly. To know that in a few moments, this part of his anatomy would be just where I needed it, I felt my desire renew itself.

"Undress me," I ordered, not meaning to sound harsh but he didn't seem to mind.

Grasping the bottom of my dress, he pulled upwards, his breathing coming short and heavy as well. I moved for him, allowing the dress to slide all the way up and over my head. As he tossed it aside, I held my arms out for him and moaned happily when I felt his weight sink on to me. I lifted my hips as his lips descended on my mouth again. Through the cotton layer of my panties I could feel the massive heat of his cock and I shifted again, sliding against him.

He broke the kiss, gasping and I grinned, telling him that I wanted him. He repeated my words back to me and I moved my hands down, pushing at the waist of his pants. I ordered him to take them off and laughed out loud when he obeyed so swiftly, I wasn't entirely certain how he'd managed it without falling off the bed. Then I took in the uncensored sight of his straight, hard erection and felt my heart slow to a dangerous speed.

"No underwear," I whispered, reaching out and touching him.

I started at his chest before sliding to his waist, rubbing my thumbs through the coarse hair of his body before moving closer to the prize at the center of him. I encircled his flesh and sighed contentedly to feel the weight of a man in my hand once more. He spoke my name, the sound of his voice strained and I smiled as I stroked him, slowly from base to tip.

"What is it, Erik?" I managed to ask as I explored his impressive member, gently rubbing the head with my palm.

When he asked me what to do, I stopped with a light laugh. I guided his hand to my side again, teasingly explaining that I needed to remove my panties first. He obliged, sliding them slowly over my legs and tossing them down with our other discarded clothing. He lay back down next to me and stroked my hip and up to my breast, cupping it delicately.

"Yes, that feels wonderful," I whispered, my head falling back against the pillows. He continued to explore me as I had done to him and I let him, smiling and moaning when I felt my nipples harden almost painfully.

"Can I...?" His hesitant voice broke into my pleasing reverie and I drew my eyes back to his face. When he didn't continue, I thought something had suddenly changed his mind but then he leaned forward, his eyes never leaving my face. As he enclosed his lips on one nipple, I moaned and clutched his head to my chest.




That Summer - Alice's Story



His rough tongue circled my tight nipple and I dug my fingertips into his scalp, holding him to me and never wanting his wonderful attentions to end. His hand moved down my side again, cupping and squeezing my ass and I moved against him, trying to offer him more of my body. As I moved, his hand moved with me, slipping between my thighs and coming so close to my wet center that I arched in pleasure, driving my breast against his mouth.

Instead of drawing back though, he clung to me, his tongue lapping at me with such ardor that I almost laughed out loud. He was so attentive to my one little body part at that moment that I wondered if he'd give the same undivided attention to all of me. 

He pulled back suddenly and pressed me flat into the mattress. Swiftly his mouth was on mine again, kissing and suckling at my tongue with a hunger that I hadn't felt in years. I relented, opening beneath him and lifting my body until we were pressed together from chest to thigh. His cock twitched between us, pressing against my lower abdomen and he suddenly stopped kissing me, pulling back and looking down.

He didn't move for a long minute, just breathed deeply, staring down at where his cock brushed against my dark curls. I squirmed, unsure of what he was thinking.

"Erik?" I whispered, breaking the silence when I couldn't take it any more.

"Alice," he breathed and met my gaze. Then he grinned and I felt my stomach flutter, more heat soaring through my body as he lifted a hand and settled it between my legs.

Groaning loudly when he slipped between my wet pussy lips, I arched against him, pressing my head back against the pillow. He stroked me slowly at first, easing into a faster speed and I clutched him to me, gasping and moaning alternately. After a moment I realized I was scratching his shoulders but since he wasn't protesting, I figured it wasn't bothering him. He was so close, so close to obliterating all my other senses and I didn't know how much more of this I could handle.

"A little higher," I hissed out when I felt him fleetingly brush against my clit again. He obliged, slipping from my hole to the space above it. When his fingertips made contact there I squeezed his shoulder tightly and bit my lip, tasting blood a second later. I moaned his name then I think as he circled my clit with his slender fingers. He circled and stroked, moving faster and faster until my body clenched, tightening in exquisite pleasure. He continued to stroke me through my orgasm, slowing down and I eventually opened my eyes to see him grinning down at me.

"Erik," I whispered. "Thank you."

"It was my pleasure," he replied softly following a laugh.

I laughed with him and touched his face. "Mine too." I pulled him down to me, kissing him and thrusting my tongue inside his mouth with ardor, showing him that I was still wanting more.

I told him to roll over and when he didn't move, I smiled, pushing gently on his shoulders until he moved. As he rolled onto his back, I went with him, throwing a leg across him and sitting up above him. I leaned close, my taut nipples just grazing the soft hair on his chest.

"I want to repay the favor, Erik," I murmured as he placed his hands over my breasts, squeezing them gently and stroking my nipples. While he did that, I shifted my position until I felt his erection slip between my soaking lips. He stiffened under me and I smiled, reaching out to stroke his cheek. Then I moved my hand between us, encircling his stiff cock with my fingers.

I lifted myself slightly, still stroking the hard length of him and his hands slipped from my chest as I moved.

"Oh god, Alice," he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut.

I grinned and slipped his cock up and inside of me, sinking down around him with a contented sigh. He was gloriously hot and filled me just as I'd need to be filled. I looked down at his face as another bolt of lightning lit up the tiny room. My heart was hammering against my ribcage and I could feel his pulse pounding from deep within me. I moved with another sigh, lifting and lowering myself ever so slightly.

I forgot the years that had passed since I'd had a man inside of me. I forgot about the pain I'd felt when Todd had died. And I forgot about everything else except Erik beneath me, stroking me, lifting me with his strong hands.

"Oh yes," I moaned, my head falling back as I felt him grasp my hips. I felt him rising to meet me with hard, rhythmic thrusts. He was learning quickly and I could feel my breath coming faster, another orgasm stampeding towards the surface. "That's it, Erik," I murmured, encouraging him. "Keep doing that."

I don't recall if I spoke again after that. I felt him rising and falling beneath me and I reached out for him, scraping my nails across his hardened nipples. He made some sound at that and I grinned, opening my eyes to see him looking up at me. The thunder boomed outside the house and the rain battered the siding and I saw every bit of the storm reflected in his dark eyes.

I moved faster over him, unaware that my hands were moving until I felt my fingers slip between my damp curls to touch my clit. A moment later his hand joined mine and I arched over him, my head falling back. As I twisted over him, I reached back, cupping his balls and massaging them gently. I wanted to feel him explode against me, within me.

He moaned and grasped my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh almost painfully but I didn't care. When the storm was over, outside and between us, I wanted some evidence of what we'd done. I leaned further back, feeling him thrusting up and into me over and over again. It was amazing, he was amazing. He was strong and hard and he was pounding into me as the rain pounded against the window.

I bounced away atop him, my orgasm fast approaching. I felt every heated inch of him filling me and I held onto his legs as we moved. He clutched my waist, holding me down and pushing into me with a force I hadn't known he possessed. I loved it and I never wanted him to stop stroking my insides with his cock. Then I came, crying out loudly and clenching my fingers on his legs.

A moment later I felt him tense beneath me and his thrusting reached a breaking point. With a loud moan, he came, his cock emptying within me. I drew myself upright and moved in time with his last thrusts, finally settling against his chest with a sigh. He was breathing extremely fast and I worried for a moment that he'd overextended himself.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

"I'm better than all right," he replied quickly, tipping his face and looking down at me.

Laughing, I shifted and pressed a kiss to his lips.

"That was amazing," he breathed a moment later, closing his arms around me and squeezing gently.

I smiled and hugged him back. "I'm glad you liked it," I replied, privately hoping he'd allow me to do that again and again.

"What's not to like?"

I laughed at that and nestled closer to him.

A minute passed in contented silence and then he spoke again, his voice hesitant and shy once again. I looked up at him as he struggled to ask me the questions. Though he never actually completed a whole sentence before his shyness overcame him, I knew exactly what he wanted to know.

"I did, Erik," I assured him. I did come, twice. "And I was-" pleased and impressed, "-and you were too," very good, Erik and extremely satisfying.

We didn't speak again. I settled against him, well aware that his cock was still inside of me. I was in no hurry to move and feel him slip away from me and so we fell asleep that way; me against his chest and him still deep inside of me. I knew we'd part as sleep overcame us but I didn't care.

The storm had passed and I felt euphoric. I fell asleep feeling a deep and abiding affection bloom for the young man under me.

***

In the morning I was woken by Erik's hands on my body. Even though I'd spent part of the night lying awake wondering if I'd done the wrong thing with this younger man, I couldn't help but react to his touch. I rolled towards him and we made love again, well into the morning.

When I realized how much time had passed that first morning, I got up, gathered my clothes and informed him that we needed to get on with work on the farm. As I looked down on his body, relaxed against the bed covers as he was, a satisfied smirk on his handsome face, I very nearly jumped back on top of him. But the farm wouldn't fix itself up and I knew that if I got back into bed with him that moment, I would never have got out again.

In spite of my misgivings, I wanted more of Erik. Not just because he was young and virile, but because he was sweet and genuine and I knew he cared about me a great deal. That in turn led me to feel guilty because I was the adult in this situation and I had used him the night before. However much he might have enjoyed it, I should never have put him in that position.

I blushed as I hurried to my own bedroom and every time I recalled a moment or touch from the previous night's adventure, I laughed out loud. I felt giddy, like a young woman again. Erik had restored me as a woman. In just one night, I got back what I didn't even know I'd been missing and it was so much more than just physical urges.

The more I thought about it that first day, the more I wanted. I wanted more than just one stormy night with him. I wanted many nights and many mornings filled with Erik...well, filling me up. As the afternoon wore on while I worked on the books in the kitchen, I couldn't sit still. My mind was racing and my heart was pattering faster and faster in anticipation of his entry into the house after working outside all day.

I think it was sometime around five o'clock when I decided I couldn't take anymore. I jumped from the chair I was sitting in and raced out of the house. I frantically tried to recall where I'd sent him to work that day and spotted his head on the horizon, along one of the fence lines. So I walked straight for him, not stopping until his arms were around me and his mouth was on mine.

We made love again there in the grass that afternoon and it was a miracle that we even made it back to the house. It certainly set the tone for the remainder of the summer though. I would go to him in his tiny little room and he would come between my legs, always hard and eager for me. He was intent on learning more from me each time. He asked what more he could do to please me and so I would tell him or show him.

And some nights I simply wanted to please him. Those were the nights his fingers would end up tangled in my hair while I sucked his hard cock into my mouth and stroked him until he'd come. I truly enjoyed bringing him to such a climax every time. Todd had rarely allowed me to suck on him, claiming that it felt strange and he didn't think it was proper, in spite of the fact that he took great pleasure in tasting and licking me.

As I lay one night with my head in Erik's lap, I couldn't help but smile at the memory. I wondered if Todd would think any of this summer was 'proper.'

Of course I understood that it wasn't going to last beyond August. Erik was young, in college and had his whole life ahead of him. He certainly wouldn't want to end up stuck with a lonely widow woman, working a dying ranch and wondering where the next meal would come from.

That point was driven home especially sharply when Erik's father called on a Wednesday near the end of the summer to confirm plans to pick him up. I eavesdropped shamelessly from the other room as Erik agreed to see his father that next Saturday. My heart dropped as he hung up the phone and turned to face me.

"That was my dad," he said quietly, hanging his head and shoving his hands into his pockets. "He's coming to get me on Saturday."

My heart twisted within my chest as I took in his stance and tone. It hurt me more than I thought it would to know that he would be leaving me, probably forever in only a few days. "Well," I spoke, responding at last to his words and striving to sound nonchalant. "That is the end of summer."

Obviously my attempt to sound casual didn't work. He scowled and asked if I cared.

Did I care? More than he could ever know.

He hadn't just been a lover those past several weeks. He'd been a friend and companion and he'd helped me rediscover the pleasure I'd been missing without even realizing I'd been missing anything. I was going to be desperately lonely without him when he left and I didn't quite know how to deal with it. So instead, I crossed the kitchen floor and took his face between my hands, memorizing the feel of his rough whiskers and the touch of his breath on my skin.

"Of course I care," I whispered, feeling my chest constrict just a little bit more. He was just so young. He had so much life left to live, so much to discover. So much that he would never get at the Square One or with me. "But let's not make this any harder than it needs to be."

Then I leaned against him, feeling him harden against me and I smiled. At least we had three days. Three whole days of this...I pushed against him again and laughed when he said there was work to be done. With another laugh, I brushed it off and tilted my head back, inviting him to kiss me, which he did. Then I sank against him as he closed his arms around me and lifted me into the air.

It wasn't until we were lying in his bed, with his face buried between my legs that I realized something else; he'd become an astounding oral sex aficionado. Then I couldn't think straight anymore as I felt his lips clamp onto my clit and suck with renewed vigor. Before I knew what was happening, my hands were tunneling through his shaggy hair and I was crying out loud, my orgasm rocketing through my body.

Then he was leaning over me, kissing my throat and stroking the head of his cock up and down my aching pussy lips.

God! When did he become such an expert tease?

"Erik," I moaned his name, biting down on my lip as he eased the head of his cock inside me briefly before pulling away again. "Please Erik," I begged, very near to losing it entirely. "I want to feel you inside me."

So he sank into me, so slow, so sweetly and I about died from the pleasure.

"Mmm, Alice," he murmured against my skin, inhaling deeply and I clung to him as he lifted his hips, thrusting against me.

I responded, pressing up into him, clutching his body against mine. I lifted my legs and wrapped them around his waist, determined to keep him close to me; he wasn't going to pull out to tease me anymore. He kept the pace slow and I was dying with each heated stroke of his cock inside me. At last I was gripped by another orgasm and cried out, digging my fingers into his shoulders.

As I floated down a minute later, I felt his pace quicken. The sound of our skin slapping together echoed erotically in the small room and I moaned, meeting each of his pounding thrusts with my body, still trembling from my climax.

"Come for me Erik!" I cried, rubbing against him and opening my lips under his, taking his tongue inside my mouth. "I want you to come!" I was barely aware of what I was saying. All I knew was that I felt him tense above me a second later and he groaned loudly, pumping harshly into me several more times before collapsing over me.

I turned my face to plant a kiss to his temple, gently brushing his hair away from the skin. He smiled against my shoulder and relaxed, slipping towards sleep. So I went with him, grateful that we at least had three more days together.

***

While it had seemed like a long time on Wednesday, by the time Saturday rolled around, we were both nearly frantic for each other. I'm not certain how much work actually was accomplished on that Thursday and Friday but I knew it couldn't have been a whole lot and I was glad we'd worked so hard earlier in the summer.

The morning that his father was to show up, I woke to feel Erik rubbing his erection against the crack of my ass. I groaned, pressing back against him, feeling moisture pool between my legs almost instantly. Hearing me wake and feeling my body respond, Erik slipped a hand between my thighs to cup my heated pussy.

"God, you get wet for me so easily, Alice," he muttered and pressed his hand against my hip, rolling me onto my back.

I only answered with a smile, fearing that if I spoke, that morning of all mornings, I might just break down and cry. So I parted my legs for him and he placed himself between them, just as he had so many times before. I sighed as he entered me swiftly and helped as he lifted my legs to penetrate as deeply as he could.

Then he pounded into me, grunting as our bodies smacked together. I moaned and gasped with each movement, clutching his arms and taking his tongue into my mouth as he leaned low to kiss me. Then he straightened, lifting my legs and parting them as he thrust further into me. Our eyes met over our joined bodies and our climaxes hit us both at the same moment.

As we lay in bed, shaking all over from such an intense coupling, I looked over at the single window and saw the sun just peeking over the horizon.

"Erik," I whispered, stroking a hand down his side, reveling in the feel of his body twitching beneath my touch. "Erik, love, we have to get up. Your father will be here soon."

He sighed heavily and nodded, his hair brushing against my skin, sending a shiver through me. Then he lifted himself onto his arms and withdrew from my body. We shared a look as he lowered his face to kiss my swollen lips once more. He smiled and rose from the bed to begin gathering his clothes.

Then before we knew it, Erik's father was driving up the long lane towards the house. We watched for a moment as the car turned from the highway and onto the gravel lane from the front porch. Erik then bravely drew his shoulders up straight and said he'd go back upstairs to get together the last of his things.

For my part, I headed down the porch steps to greet his father.

"Hello!" He called as he exited the car amidst a cloud of dust.

"Hi there," I replied with a smile. "How was your drive?"

"Not bad," he said, coming closer to shake my hand. "Very little traffic; I was surprised."

"Well, there's still a few days before school actually starts up, right?" I said, thinking of what Erik had told me only the night before.

"That's true. So where is the boy anyway?"

Boy. I nearly scoffed at the word. Erik was no boy; not anymore. I forced myself to remain neutral.

"He just upstairs getting the last of his things together," I said out loud. "Can I get you a coffee? Or some water?" I offered.

"No, thank you," he replied, holding up a hand. "I think I just want to get back on the road and head home."

"I bet your wife is looking forward to seeing Erik again."

He nodded with a broad grin on his face. "She is indeed. I've barely made it through the summer with her fawning all over me instead of the boy!" And he laughed heartily at his own joke.

I smiled around my suddenly clenched jaw. As a moment of silence descended over us, I decided I'd had enough small talk with the man.

"I think I'll go check on Erik," I stated aloud. "I'll be right back." I turned and hurried inside, eager to escape to my sanctuary; Erik.

I found him in his room, standing silently in the center. He was facing away from me but turned slowly at my approach. I took the opportunity to run my eyes slowly over his entire form; his long legs, encased handsomely in dark jeans, his narrow waist over a beautiful ass and the broad shoulders that hadn't been there at the start of the summer. The thought made me pause; was he broader or was he just carrying himself differently?

But that thought and others disappeared as his eyes met mine, a half-hearted smile on his handsome face.

"Your father is waiting for you," I said quietly, struggling to remain calm.




That Summer As A Camp Counsellor



I'll never forget my first summer as a camp counsellor at a camp for underprivileged kids. Most of us, the staff, were teenagers, away from home for the first time. It was a great place to be a guy, with young women in bathing suits all over the place.

About halfway through the summer, my friend Dan and I were asked to go on an overnight trip with our groups, by canoe. Because we were going away from the campgrounds, we were required to take another staff member with us. We picked Jenni, a young lifeguard, not because she would keep everyone safe, but because she was a hot redhead.

We paddled to the campsite, miles away from everyone else. The kids were a pain, but we knew they'd be tired from paddling and wouldn't stay up late. Dan and I packed only one tent, which meant that if Jenni wanted to sleep inside, she'd have to sleep with us, or sleep with the kids. She saw us unpack the one tent. "Nice try, guys," she said, leaning over in front of us to pick up firewood, her breasts swelling out of her bathing suit. "I think I'll sleep out under the stars."

"Whatever," Dan said, and gave me an oh-shit look when Jenni wasn't watching.

After the kids had gone to sleep, Dan and I stayed with Jenni around for the fire for a while, but got tired of the bugs and not getting any action and slipped into the tent. I pulled a bottle of JD out of my boot, where I'd hidden it, and we passed it back and forth. It was a hot night, so we sat in our boxers, drinking JD and listening to the fire crackle outside. I could see in the light of the lantern that Dan was playing with himself a little. His circumcized cockhead peeked out of his drawers. I tried not to notice.

After half an hour, we heard a noise at the top of the tent and realized it was raining. We heard Jenni sigh outside the tent, pick up her things, and make her way into the tent. "Okay, guys, you win, but no funny business. Why aren't you guys wearing pants?"

"It's too hot for pants." She sighed again and plopped down between us. Her bathing suit shimmered in the lantern light, droplets of rain glistening. "Give me the bottle," she said. "You're not supposed to have booze at camp."

"Have some. Nobody'll know," I said.

She looked at me, then looked at the bottle. "Whatever." She slurped back a little. "This stuff's awful!" she sputtered. "How can you guys drink it?"

"It's all we got," said Dan.

We sat there, talking for a bit, drinking the JD. I was a little tipsy, and I could tell Dan and Jenni were, too. Then Jenni became more tipsy.

She grinned. "You guys were planning to take advantage of me on this trip, weren't you?" she slurred.

"Oh no," said Dan. We'd never do that." Jenni smiled. The strap of her bathing suit slid down her shoulder.

"Oops," she said, fixing the strap. It fell down again almost right away, further this time, halfway down her ample breast. "I can't get it to stay up."

"Then don't worry about it," said Dan, pulling down the other strap. She reached her hand up to pull it back up. I pulled the other one down further, exposing her white flesh and her pink nipple. "Guys, you shouldn't be doing that," she said, and put her hands at her side. I reached over and took her sweet nipple in my mouth, and she moaned. Dan pulled down the other side and sucked her other nipple. Our eyes yet, and we both smiled as we sucked on her gigantic teats.

I could feel myself getting harder and harder. I liked watching Dan suck her tit more than I liked licking Jenni's nipple, which surprised me. Dan gave me a look that said "watch this" and sat up on his knees, pulling down his boxers, exposing his meaty cock. I put my tongue down Jenni's throat, reached down, and moved her bathing suit aside between her legs. She squeezed her legs together, but changed her mind and relented. I slid my finger into her wet hot pussy, and she moaned. Then I looked at her, opened up her lips and pushed her head gently towards Dan's cock. She took it all in. She moved back and forth, slowly. Then she licked the head and stroked his balls. I pulled off her bathing suit down past her knees, then off her feet. "You guys," she murmured, then went back to Dan's cock. She readjusted herself, leaning forwards on her knees to suck his cock. I opened her legs and started to tongue her cunt from behind. God, it tasted good. My nose rubbed up against her asshole as I licked her. I could feel her pucker gently pinching my nose. I decided to try something different, and ran my tongue around the outside of her asshole. She moaned, then told me not to stop.

I was about to tongue her hole when Dan said, "Come over here." He lay down on the sleeping bag and pulled her towards him. She straddled him, and before she knew it his throbbing cock was deep inside her. I whacked for a while as I watched, but decided I had to get back in there. I moved up between Dan's legs, spread Jenni's ass cheeks, and started licking her asshole again. Then I ran my tongue a little inside her, then further in. She shuddered. My tongue was only an inch or so from Dan's cock. She started pumping her on it and my tongue kept slipping out. Then the underneath of his cock slid against my lips. I recoiled at first, but then figured Dan hadn't noticed, so I went back in. Then his cock rubbed against my lips again. Did he do that on purpose?

I licked Jenni's asshole some more, then found Dan's cock against my lips again. I gave up on Jenni's asshole, and moved my lips up and down Dan's cock. Why not? I got down further and bound his balls. I took them in my mouth and sucked them. After a while he moaned.

"Don't cum inside me!" Jenni said. "I'm not on the pill." She got up off Dan and fell to the side of the tent. "I'm kind of tired anyway," she said, and found her way into my sleeping bag and rolled over. Dan put his hands in the air and said, "What the fuck?" I shrugged my shoulders. He lay back and jacked himself a little. Jenni was already snoring. Dan gave up on his cock and put his arms over his eyes. I moved forward, reached out, and touched the head of his cock. It jolted at my touch, but Dan didn't move his arms. I wrapped my fist around it and started to pump it slowly. He let me jack him. Then I leaned over, decided to go for it, and took his cock in my mouth. I saw him move his hands away from his face as he feigned surprise, but he didn't stop me. I ran my tongue around the head of his beautiful cock. I'd been wanting to do this all summer. I moved my tongue and lips up and down his cock. God, it filled my mouth, that perfect cut cock. After a while his breathing hastened. I could feel him tensing. "I'm going to cum," he whispered. "I'm going to cum. Watch out." Nothing doin'. I sucked harder on that cock, felt it stiffen, then Dan shuddered as he filled my mouth with cum. It was almost like he was having a seizure, trying not to make any noise. The cum felt good and warm in my mouth and found its way down my throat.

"Oh, man," he whispered.

Jenni stirred, and Dan and I moved quickly away from each other. "Are you guys still up?" she asked. "Yes," I said, looking down at my enormous erection. "I'm really horny," I said. "Can I fuck you if I promise not to cum inside you?"

"I guess so," she replied. I moved up behind her and spooned her. My cock quickly found its way inside her hot pussy. She sounded reluctant, but her cunt told me she was ready. I wondered if she'd been listening to what Dan and I had just been doing. While I was fucking her, I could feel Dan's hand on my back, gently rubbing. He moved down to my ass. He spread my cheeks apart and started to finger my asshole. Then I felt his hot breath on my cheeks, then his tongue on my rosebud. His tongue moved in and out of my ass. Then he would finger me again, then put his tongue back in. After a while, I moaned. "Out you go," Jenni said, as I was about to come. "Fuck," I said, my cock throbbing. "Why don't you just get Dan to suck it? You think I don't know what you two were just doing? It doesn't matter to me." Dan shrugged, leaned forward, and took me in his mouth. God that felt good. I started to moan. I reached over and felt Jenni's beautiful breasts. She reached down and started playing with her clit, and moaning herself. "Oh god, I'm going to cum," I said. Jenni moved down my body and watched as I filled Dan's mouth with my hot cum. I looked down in the lantern light and saw cum squeezing out the sides of his lips. Jenni slid in and licked one side of my cock. Then the two of them licked it, up and down, cum now on both of their lips and running down my cock. I shuddered again, and spurted more cum onto Jenni's face. Dan leaned over and licked it up, then Frenched her. Jenni swallowed it.

We finished off the bottle of JD and stayed up most of the night, sucking and fucking. Dan wanted to fuck me in the ass, and I wanted to fuck Jenni in the ass, but nobody had any lubricant. We decided to save that for our next trip. I fell asleep with my cock inside Jenni's tight pussy. Dan fell asleep with his head nestled between her tremendous breasts.

I couldn't wait until our next trip.