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Lucky Beyond Belief Ch. 01

By: Privates1stClass



Thanks to my editor, Nymphwriter, and my loyal beta readers who found my errors and made suggestions to improve my story. Any other errors you may find are mine alone.

* * *

It's said that opportunity only knocks once, and am I ever lucky I answered that knock. Looking back, though, my childhood wasn't all that lucky. Dad and mom both worked to provide enough income to feed my brother and me. We always had food on the table, but money was tight. While other families went to Disney World on vacation, our vacations were inexpensive alternatives—camping out or visiting relatives.

Mom was our moral compass. She was strict and upright—a proper mom who taught us to always do the right thing, even if we had to go out of our way to do it. She also demanded we be polite and respect women.

Dad always told my brother and me that we should learn as much as possible so we could get a job that made us indispensable. He said we could make more money by using our head than by using our hands. With that thought in the back of my head, I took all the math and science courses I could.

Although my high school was small, I had a great science teacher who introduced me to electronics. He was the physics teacher, and after school was the advisor for the robotics club. He taught us about electronic chips—microcontrollers and op amps, as well as the usual resistors, capacitors, and transistors. He also taught us how to make our own printed circuit boards, how to solder, and how to write software to program the microcontrollers. I think I learned more from him outside class than in it. I read and absorbed every electronics book or magazine I could get my hands on. Anyway, my grades were good, and he steered me toward a career in electronics engineering.

I applied to a Midwestern university, well-known for its engineering curriculum, and was riding high when I was accepted. My parents weren't wealthy by any means, so if I was going to college, I'd have to supplement my college tuition by getting a part-time job. 

I'd say my lucky streak began when I arrived at college in 2004, my first time away from home. Like most of the other freshmen, I experienced some homesickness, a sense of freedom from parental control, and a sense that I was now living in an adult world. Within a few days after arriving on campus, I had a job at a local pizza carry-out on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday nights, and sometimes on weekends when they were short of help.

The one problem I had was chemistry for engineers. It was a mandatory course, and it had a reputation for eliminating many would-be engineers. Essentially, it was a 'washout' course to trap the unwary who weren't dedicated to hard work. If I didn't get past chemistry, that would be the end of my hopes for an electronics education. I pulled a 'B' in high school chemistry, but it wasn't one of my favorite subjects. I liked math and physics much better.

Checking the schedule for chemistry lab, I saw students were paired off alphabetically by last name. Searching down the list, I found my name, M. Thomas, paired up with another student, E. Thompson. I was hoping he could help me through the quagmire of this mandatory course.

The first chemistry lab was devoted to mostly checking out and inventorying our lab equipment. It turned out my lab partner, E. Thompson, was named Emily. I introduced myself as Michael. 

After our introduction, I found out she was a business major. Oh great,' I thought, 'This is my toughest course, and I'm going to be saddled carrying this woman through chemistry the entire year.'

Emily was only one of three women in the lab, but she was, by far, the best looking. She was slim with auburn hair cut in a bob hairstyle that nicely framed her face. She had a pixie nose and pouty lips. Her eyes, though, were her best feature. Those azure, expressive bluish-green eyes held my attention from the first look.

We hit it off from the beginning. She had a quick smile and a wonderful sense of humor.

I asked her a question, "What is the first rule in chemistry lab?"

She replied, "Safety first?"

"Nice try, but hot glass looks exactly like cold glass," I said.

She laughed and came back with, "Did you hear oxygen and magnesium got together...? Omg!"

We went back and forth like that most of the lab. I loved the way she teased and the way her eyes twinkled.

As we were inventorying and putting our chemistry equipment in our locker, she surprised me by correctly identifying every item on the list, even though some of the equipment was unfamiliar to me.

When we finished, I was hoping the lab was longer, because I really enjoyed being with Emily. I think she felt the same way, because when the graduate student who monitored the lab said we were free to leave after we'd turned in our inventory form, Emily hung around for several minutes just to chat.

I looked forward to the next chemistry lab. Another week, and a couple more labs later, we became more friendly. Emily seemed to know a lot more about chemistry than me. I asked her, "Why are you taking chemistry for engineers when you're a business major?"

She replied, "My dad wants me to know a lot about chemistry, because that's our family business. This was the only chemistry class I could get into."

Chemistry for engineers was reputed to be one of the toughest courses on campus. The fact that Emily, a business major, was in the course didn't make a lot of sense. I wondered how she knew so much about chemistry. By the fourth lab, I got the idea she was sandbagging chemistry class. 

"Emily, did you understand everything the professor said about stochastic processes and entropy in yesterday's lecture?"

"Yes, why?"

"Well, I'm struggling with chemistry, and I won't be able to stay in the electronics engineering program if I don't pass it," I said.

"Would you like me to help you?" she asked.

It didn't take me long to answer 'yes' to her offer. It allowed me to spend more time with this angelic co-ed whom I drooled over. So Tuesday and Thursday evenings, Emily and I spent a couple hours in a study-date going over what we'd covered in chemistry the past week.

The next couple of weeks, Emily and I got to know one another a lot better. Like the chemical bonds between hydrogen and oxygen, there was a special chemistry between us. We attended the home football games together. I took her to a movie one weekend and another weekend we attended a local fall festival. We agreed to become boyfriend and girlfriend.

Emily and I held hands and kissed passionately a number of times, but we hadn't gone beyond hugging and kissing. During those study-dates, Emily's roommate, Sharon, was usually there, so heavy make-out sessions were out of the question.

When Sharon wasn't there, I got the impression the way Emily came on to me that she was interested in sex. I would have considered it, but I couldn't bring myself to tell her my dark secret.

At one of our chemistry labs, Emily said, "Daddy wants to meet you."

"Why would he want to meet me?" I asked.

"I told him all about you. He and mom are passing through town on a business trip tomorrow, and I'd like to introduce you to them, if you don't mind."

The next evening, I met Emily's father and mother, John and Lisa. They were a nice-looking, almost middle-aged couple, reminding me of my own parents. Lisa and Emily had the same hairstyle. I could also see that Emily shared the facial features of both her mother and father. What caught my attention was that all three of them had the same auburn hair color and intense bluish-green eyes.

When Emily introduced me to her father, he said, "I'm finally getting to meet the young man who can walk on water."

I wasn't sure I understood what he was talking about. Then Lisa added, "Emily thinks the world of you, Michael. Every time we talk to her, she tells us how wonderful you are. We wanted to meet the young man she's so head-over-heels in love with."

Lisa brought Emily some home-made chocolate chip cookies. Emily thanked her, then offered to share some with me.

John said, "Emily tells us you build robots and know a lot about electronics. She thinks that's terrific."

"I like to build all kinds of electronics, and robots are a lot of fun," I responded.

We visited for about an hour, then John suggested we get something to eat. "I know college kids love pizza, how about we take you and Emily out to a local pizzeria?" he asked.

Emily and I looked at each other and laughed. "Dad, he works at a pizza place three or four nights a week," she said. "I doubt he wants to eat another one."

"Well then, is there an Italian restaurant around here?" John asked.

"Yes," Emily replied. "It's not real Italian, but there's an Olive Garden just off campus."

We went to the local Olive Garden and had a decent meal—at least a lot better than university cafeteria food. While we were dining, John and Lisa seemed interested in what I was studying and my relationship with Emily.

I told them my goal was to graduate with an electronic engineering degree, and that although Emily and I had a few dates, they were mostly study-dates. I told them I really enjoyed spending time with her.

Before John and Lisa departed, John pulled me aside and said, "Thank you for cheering up my daughter. Our visit was to insure she's okay. She had a bout of depression before she left for college, but I don't see that she's depressed now. Take good care of her."

"Yes sir, I will," I responded.

In mid-November, Emily asked if I was going home for Thanksgiving. I answered that given my lack of funds, I thought I'd stay on campus for the holiday. Since it was only a four-day holiday, I didn't want to waste money on an airline ticket, then face the hordes of travelers during the busiest travel weekend of the year.

"Dad and mom said I could bring a friend home for Thanksgiving. Would you like to come with me?" she asked.

"I thought you'd ask Sharon."

"I did, but she's going to visit her family, so I'm asking you—you're my boyfriend."

"I'm not sure I want to go through the long lines and the security hassle at the airport," I replied.

"Well, you won't have to do that. Daddy's sending the company jet out to pick me up. You're invited to come along."

'Wow, Emily's father owns a business jet?' I thought to myself. It hadn't been apparent when he and Lisa visited a couple weeks earlier. Emily told me her family was in the chemical business, but she hadn't mentioned a jet plane.

It didn't take me long to consider the alternatives—hanging around a dead campus or spending time with a girl I'd fallen in love with. "Sure, I'd like to spend Thanksgiving with you and your family."

A couple days before Thanksgiving, Emily told me I needn't pack many clothes for the weekend. "I come from a family of nudists," she revealed.

She caught me by surprise. I'd never considered being naked around a girlfriend's family. Being with Emily nearly always caused me to have an erection. What would she think about that? What would John and Lisa think? While all those thoughts were flying around my head, I felt flushed. At that point, I considered backing out of Emily's invitation.

"You're blushing," Emily laughed.

"Well, you blindsided me with that revelation. I had no idea."

"We don't advertise it, but most of our friends know. Now you do too."

I put my apprehension aside and agreed to accompany Emily on a Thanksgiving holiday. The day before Thanksgiving, Emily and I arrived at the local airport and waited on her father's business jet. 

While we were waiting in the small airport lounge, Emily filled me in about her family. She told me that when her grandparents were in college during the 1960's, they became hippies. The hippie movement was in full swing back then, she said. She told me her grandparents all lived together and enjoyed being nudists. Her parents were both raised in the same nudist life style. 

I wondered if Emily was following in her parent's footsteps. "Hold on," I said. "You say all your grandparents lived together?"

"Yes, that's what I understand—both my grandfathers were studying chemistry at Berkeley. They shared an apartment and my grandmothers moved in with them."

"There must be an interesting story in there somewhere," I said.

"Maybe they'll tell us tomorrow. You'll meet them at Thanksgiving dinner."

While we were chatting, Emily spotted the company plane landing on the runway. We watched it taxi into a parking spot near the small terminal and shut down. A fuel truck arrived, and the pilot talked with the fuel truck driver, then the pilot and co-pilot entered the terminal.

Emily introduced me to the pilot and co-pilot. She asked how long it would be before they planned to take off. The pilot said they wanted to get something to eat in the snack bar and they needed to file a flight plan back to California.

The jet had six passenger seats, so there was plenty of space to stretch out. The pilots asked if I'd like to visit the cockpit to look around after we took off. I took advantage of their offer and had an opportunity to learn how some of the plane's electronics worked.

Returning from my cockpit tour, Emily and I spent the remainder of the flight discussing our personal lives. 

Emily told me she was home schooled for ten years, from the third grade through high school. She mentioned her mother had an education degree and her father had a Ph.D in chemistry. Since she was home schooled, she didn't have a chance to meet many boys, she said. The only boys she spent any time around were at nudist resorts.

I spent some time telling Emily about my family, our home life, my high school, and my electronics hobby. 

After sharing our backgrounds, we both agreed that our families were much different.

Four hours after we left, we were in California. 

John picked us up at the airport in his Lexus SUV. Leaving the airport, instead of heading toward town, John headed the other direction toward the mountains. John said it was about half an hour drive. 

The closer we got to their home, the more apprehensive I became. Nudism seemed a faraway concept when I left college, but now that I was close to exposing my body to Emily and her family, my stomach began tying itself in a knot.

The last couple miles, we climbed up a narrow winding road to their home on a ridge about halfway up a mountainside. The view from there across the valley below was spectacular.

My first view of Emily's parents' home inspired awe. Surrounded by fir trees, it appeared as if it ought to be on the cover of a Better Homes & Gardens magazine. Their home was built on the mountain in two levels. The roof was nearly completely covered by solar panels, and a satellite receiver was barely visible on the far end of the roof.

Just as we arrived at the Thompson's home, John received a call that there was a problem at his chemical plant, so he dropped Emily and I off, and returned to town.

Lisa met us at the front door, nude. When I'd met her before, back at the university, I had no idea she or John were nudists. Now I had an opportunity to view all her female charms.

The first thing which caught my attention—besides her large grapefruit-sized breasts, was a three-inch, Monarch butterfly tattoo on the left one. The second thing was the fat, pink nipple on the same breast.

"Hi, Emily and Michael," Lisa said, as she hugged Emily hello. When she let go of Emily and turned toward me, a thought flashed through my mind—'What is the proper etiquette for greeting a female nudist when you're a fully-clothed male—a hug or handshake?' 

I decided the best choice was to shake hands. As I looked down to reach for her hand, my eyes caught a glimpse of the charms between her legs. Of course, that view caused an immediate inflation of my nether parts.

Lisa said, "I'm so happy you could come home with Emily for Thanksgiving weekend."

"Thank you for allowing Emily to invite me," I responded.

"Emily dear, would you show Michael to the guest bedroom?" Lisa requested.

Emily led me to the guest bedroom. As I followed her through her home, I marveled at the interior design. Everywhere I looked was another feast for my eyes. 

Once in the guest bedroom, Emily said, "Here's a towel. You can get undressed, then I'll take you on a tour of the house. Leave your shoes and socks on, because we might go outside, and you don't want to get a sticker in your foot."

"What's the towel for?" I asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry—I should have explained. It's part of nudist etiquette—for sitting on. I'm sure you can figure it out," Emily said.

Emily departed and it was then I noticed there wasn't a door on the bedroom. I figured that since they were nudists, they didn't find bedroom doors necessary in their home.

My nervousness increased as I removed my clothing and looked down—my erection left over from seeing Emily's naked mother wouldn't go down. I blew out a breath. Damn! It always gave away my emotions, and I didn't want Emily, or her mother, to see me with a boner.

A couple minutes later, a nude Emily stuck her head in the entry, "Are you ready, Mike?"

I was sitting on the towel on the bed with my hands in my lap, willing my cock to deflate. "Almost," I said.

Emily crossed the room toward the bed. I'm sorry to admit it, but my eyes were drawn to her nubile, feminine charms. But I'm a guy, after all. Her breasts were small—I'd say plum-sized—or perhaps the size of small apples. Her tummy was flat, and between her legs was a triangular, auburn, well-trimmed bush. I was happy to see the carpet matched the drapes.

As she turned to sit next to me, I noticed a beautiful, three-inch, Monarch butterfly tattoo near the top of her left butt cheek—similar to the butterfly Lisa had on her left breast. It probably wouldn't have been visible under her panties—if she'd worn any. Seeing her naked just made my cock stiffer. How embarrassing!

She looked down between my legs, "I know what your problem is," she giggled. "It happens to all guys, and I've seen plenty of them, so don't worry about it."

Emily leaned into me and kissed me on the cheek. Seeing and feeling her soft, warm boob brush against my arm as she kissed me only made it worse.

"You're blushing all over," Emily laughed. She was right. It felt like I'd been sitting in the hot sun on a summer day.

"Emily, I'd be mortified if your mother saw me like this."

"She's knows all about hard cocks. How do you think I came to be born?"

Emily stepped away from the bed and went into the bathroom. She came back with a warm washcloth.

"Lie down, and I'll take care of it for you," she ordered.

Emily put pressure on my shoulder, easing me backward to a prone position. I was on my back with my cock pointing straight up at the ceiling. She sat next to my hip and wrapped one end of the warm washcloth around my cock with the other end on my scrotum. 

"Just relax. I'll have it fixed I no time," she said, as she smiled down at me.

She commented, "You have a nice one. Be proud of what Mother Nature gave you, because a lot of guys would be happy to have yours."

I almost lost it when Emily's soft warm hand first touched my cock. She enclosed it with her hand and began slowly stroking. "Relax and let it out. You have too much sperm in there."

She hadn't made half a dozen strokes when I felt the familiar tingling in my groin and balls. "Emily, I'm about to..." and then I erupted into the washcloth.

"There, didn't I make it feel better?" she asked.

"Oh wow, did you ever! You made it feel like it was turning wrong-side out."

She chuckled, and used the bottom half of the washcloth to clean me off.

"What does the butterfly tattoo represent?" I asked.

"My mom and my Grandma Donna have the same Monarch butterfly tattoo on their left breast. I wanted one too, but my breasts are too small for one that large." She held up her fingers, made air quotes, and giggled, "Since it's a 'butt'-er-fly, I had it put on my butt cheek."


Lucky Beyond Belief Ch. 01



She made me laugh. Her sense of humor continually kept me off guard.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

"Sure, I love it."

I was thinking, 'What guy wouldn't like a perfect butterfly tattoo on a perfect girl's butt cheek?'

Emily continued, "To me, the butterfly represents beauty, love, and freedom. An ugly caterpillar turns into a beautiful butterfly. I think of it as me changing from a girl into a woman to do what I want.

"Now are you ready for a tour of the house?" 

"Okay," I said. "Lead the way."

There were three bedrooms at one end of the house. The guest bedroom was next to the home theater. The other two spacious bedrooms were opposite the home theater. Emily's bedroom was mostly pink, adorned with several of her favorite teddy bears and dolls she'd saved from childhood. The master bedroom was huge, with a couple of French doors that opened onto a balcony overlooking the valley. Each bedroom had its own full bathroom with a large shower and an electronic bidet.

Emily showed me the home theater. I counted ten reclining theater chairs and a large-screen TV at the front of it. On the other side of the home theater was the kitchen and dining room. The living room and front entry were off to the side, facing the valley. 

The living room's floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides, made it feel airy. They provided a breathtaking view over the valley below. A large stone fireplace, in the corner between the large windows, gave the living room a cozy setting. The living room floor was marble.

Emily pointed out that there were heated water pipes under the floors in the home. She said the warm floors were more comfortable on bare feet than cold marble, and the thermostat in their home was set to 78 degrees because they were always nude.

Except for the bedrooms, floor-to-ceiling windows permitted spectacular vistas in nearly every direction. There were no neighboring homes to spoil the scenery.

The lower level held a recreation room, utility room, and garage. Behind their home was a swimming pool, and a Jacuzzi hot tub. The garage held a Lincoln Town Car, a Miata convertible, a car that was in parts, and an empty spot for the Lexus. Emily said the disassembled car was a DeLorean, the auto which was in the 'Back to the Future' movie. Her dad was restoring it, she said. Along one wall of the garage, I noticed two large racks of marine batteries, an inverter, and electronics which I recognized as part of their solar electrical system.

I asked Emily, "Is your house off the grid?"

"Yes," she responded. "We're too far from town, so all our electricity is from solar, our phone service is from cellular towers, and our TV and Internet come from satellite."

After Emily finished showing off her parents' house, she invited me into the kitchen for a soft drink. Lisa was just starting dinner. 

"You have a lovely home," I said to Lisa. "The view from your living room is amazing." 

I tried keeping my eyes on hers, because women always complain about guys ogling their breasts, but I found it difficult to keep my view above her shoulders. She was a perfect MILF. I did glance down a couple times just to view her butterfly tattoo, but somehow her magnificent nipple got in the way. I wondered if Emily's boobs would someday grow to the size of her mother's.

Lisa responded, "Thank you, we love the view too. That's one of the reasons we had the house built here.

"Since we're nudists, we didn't want close neighbors. John found this property on the mountainside, and we thought it was perfect. The only problem was that we're so far out of town, the school bus didn't come out this way, so we home schooled Emily."

"She told me she missed out on socializing with kids at school," I said.

Lisa had a flustered look, "Oh dear, I'm making a casserole for dinner this evening, but the dish I need is on the top shelf in the cabinet." She pulled a kitchen chair to the counter in front of the cabinet and asked, "Mike, would you be so kind as to steady the chair while I find the casserole dish?"

"Sure," I answered.

While I held the back of the chair, Lisa put her hand on my shoulder and stepped up on the chair seat. She stood up, opened the cabinet, and began moving dishes around in the cabinet to find the one she wanted.

With Lisa standing on the chair, it placed her pussy just above my eye level. I was torn—which way to look? She had prominent, well-trimmed labia, covered with short, well-trimmed auburn pubic hair. In between them, her clitoral hood just peeked out a little. I got a waft of her womanly fragrance mixed with Dove soap. That one glimpse and odor caused my cock to begin inflating. I needed to look somewhere else, so I looked up. Wrong decision—now I was staring at those lovely grapefruit-sized boobs Lisa carried on her chest.

Lisa looked down at me and said, "Mike, I can't seem to reach the one I want. Could we trade places so you can get it?"

'Oh shit,' I thought. 'If I get on that chair, my boner will be on display for the whole world to see.'

"Are you sure you can't reach it?" I asked.

"It's all the way at the back. Since you're taller, I'm sure you can get it," she answered.

Lisa stepped off the chair and brushed against me as we traded places. I took a deep breath, willed my cock to deflate, and stepped up on the chair seat.

Emily giggled, "Mom, be careful. You don't want Mike to eye poke your eye out."

I swear I could feel Lisa's hot breath on it when she laughed. "I think it's larger than your father's," she said, as she cackled at Emily's remark.

"Which dish do you want?" I asked.

"It's the large orange one in the back," she replied.

It took me awhile to move some other dishes around until I could retrieve it. The entire time, I had a sense they both had their eyes on my cock.

I handed the casserole dish to Lisa and stepped off the chair. 

"Thank you, you're a real dear," Lisa said. Then she glanced down at my cock, back into my eyes, and added, "Nice one, Mike."

Emily gave me my soft drink and we sat down at the kitchen table while Lisa prepared dinner. A few minutes later, Lisa asked, "Emily dear, would you please make the salad for dinner?"

Emily got some salad makings out of the refrigerator and stood next to her mother, preparing the salad. The two of them, standing together, their backs to me, were so much alike—absolutely lovely. They were the same height, same body build, same naked butt cheeks, same hair color and style. The only way to distinguish my Emily from her mother was the Monarch butterfly tattoo on her left butt cheek.

Lisa finished making the casserole, turned, and bent over to place it in the oven. I was in an almost perfect position to see the womanly treasure tucked between her thighs. Gravity pulled her pendulous breasts toward the floor. Seeing her fleshy labia from behind kept my cock hard once again. Being a nudist wasn't as easy as I thought it would be.

* * *

John returned home from the 'emergency' at the plant and came into the kitchen, naked.

His first words were, "I'm hungry as a bear. What's for dinner?"

Lisa replied, "I made your favorite pork chop-rice casserole."

"Thanks," he said, and walked across the kitchen to her.

He wrapped his arms around Lisa and gave her a full body hug and a kiss on the lips. I noticed his large uncircumcised cock remained limp. If I'd hugged her like that (or any beautiful nude adult female for that matter), I'd have had a boner she'd have been able to do chin-ups on. I figured it was a matter of self-control, which I didn't have.

The Thompson's were gracious hosts. At dinner, I got to know Emily's family a lot better. I learned they'd lived in their home since Emily was six years old.

John told me his father founded the chemical plant, and he took over when his father retired. When I asked what kind of chemicals his company produced, he said specialty lubricants and solvents. 

I wasn't familiar with specialty lubricants, so he explained that his company filled a niche market for lubricants which could withstand extremely high or low temperatures. He mentioned applications for rockets, satellites, tiny gears, and machinery for arctic climates.

He asked if I'd like to take a tour of the chemical plant the day after Thanksgiving. I agreed. He said Emily had seen it all before, so she wasn't going with us.

* * *

After dinner, we watched a movie in the Thompson's home theater. When the movie ended, Emily went to the recreation room. "Pool or darts?" Emily asked.

"Pool," I said.

Emily beat me handily at three games of pool, so I suggested we play darts. She beat me at darts, too. By the time 11 PM rolled around, we were both sleepy. We returned upstairs to find John and Lisa in the kitchen. John was helping her with pre-Thanksgiving dinner preparations.

Lisa asked, "Who won?"

Emily laughed, "I beat his butt."

Both John and Lisa turned and gave her a look. Emily thought about what she'd said, then said, "I won—I didn't touch his butt."

"Well you'd better go to bed," Lisa said. "We're going to be busy tomorrow with Thanksgiving dinner."

Emily gave me a chaste kiss goodnight in front of her parents, and I gave her one back. We said goodnight and I headed to the guest bedroom and Emily headed to her bedroom.

* * *

I awoke on Thanksgiving morning to the smell of coffee. The sun was just coming up, shining through the large window onto the wall. I heard footsteps coming down the hall—it was Lisa. She asked if I liked ham and eggs. I said I did, and she said breakfast would be served in about twenty minutes. It gave me enough time to shower.

I didn't have to think about what to wear, because I was already dressed—or undressed for the day, depending on how I wanted to look at it. I smiled. That was one benefit of being a nudist I hadn't considered before. 

John's parents arrived around noon. They came into the house already nude. Emily introduced me as her boyfriend, to her Grandpa Fred and Grandma Betty Thompson. 

When you're introduced to a naked person, where are you supposed to look? I know it's bad manners to stare, but Emily's Grandpa Fred was well-endowed. It appeared he was carrying half a Polish sausage between his legs. Emily's grandmother Betty was a few pounds short of chubby, but she was a hot-looking woman.

They appeared to be about sixty. Fred was balding, with white hair mixed with auburn around his head, on his chest, and pubic area. I noticed he had the same bright bluish-green eyes as Emily, Lisa, and John. Betty had brown hair on her head, but I happened to notice she had a full bush of pubic hair with a few white ones mixed in with the brown ones. 

While we were chatting, I noticed Grandma Betty's eyes on my nearly-erect cock. 

Emily saw what her grandmother was watching and announced for everyone to hear, "Mike is a first-time nudist, so he's having a little problem."

Grandma Betty responded, "It doesn't look like a little problem to me, and it's so nice to see a virile young man's sporting equipment again. I think I wore Fred's out, because it rarely stands up like that anymore."

Then Grandma Betty patted me on the shoulder and said, "Don't worry about it, son. I'm sure Emily will take care of it for you."

Emily's other grandpa and grandma showed up a little later. They arrived fully clothed, but took off their clothing as soon as they entered the foyer. Emily introduced me to Lisa's parents, Grandpa Bill and Grandma Donna Anderson. Bill was quite tall and thin, with a full head of graying brown hair. Donna was also slim. She had the same Monarch butterfly tattoo as Lisa's on her left breast. Comparing breasts, I'd say Donna's were large, about the same size as Lisa's.

Both of Emily's grandmothers must have been quite good-looking women when they were young. Their breasts sagged a little—not as much as I expected, but then I hadn't ever seen sixty-year-old women's breasts before. Perhaps some plastic surgery had prevented that.

We chatted, getting to know one another. The men separated, gathering in the recreation room. Emily and the other three women went to work in the kitchen preparing Thanksgiving dinner. The smells of cooking turkey, pumpkin pie spice, and other holiday food filled the air.

John opened a bottle of wine for the women to share, then another for all four of the men. He reminded Emily and me that we were limited to a single glass. We watched the end of a Thanksgiving parade and the beginning of a holiday football game. Lisa brought a tray of crackers and cheese to snack on while we watched TV.

For Thanksgiving dinner, we sat down to the typical holiday fare. It was the first time I'd ever been at a Thanksgiving table where everyone was naked. Eight lovely boobs added to the décor at the dinner table. No matter which way I looked, there were boobs. My thoughts jumped back to my family's Thanksgiving table. There was nothing there which compared to this! Before we began eating, Lisa brought out her camera and we all smiled, naked as jaybirds, for our photos.

While John carved the turkey, the mashed potatoes and vegetables were passed around. When John finished, he served everyone. He asked me, "Breast or dark meat?"

Grandpa Bill interrupted, "Give him breast. Being a young man, he'd rather put that in his mouth than anything else."

Everyone laughed, and I blushed. Now I understood where Emily's teasing nature came from.

The food was superb—turkey with all the trimmings, green beans, yams, cranberry sauce, hot rolls from the oven—it was all good. The view of four naked women at the table made it even better. My manhood and I fought a continuing battle as it desired to inflate and I commanded it to deflate.

The dessert was the climax of the meal. Emily's Grandma Donna brought me a piece of pumpkin pie. When she bent over to give it to me, I was looking at her left boob, with its butterfly tattoo, just a few inches from my nose. 

"Whipped cream?" she asked.

I was so busy staring at her tattoo that she had to repeat herself. Grandpa Bill saw what was happening and laughed so hard I thought he was going to choke.

"Donna," he said, "don't stick your nipple in his mouth. This is his first day being a nudist, and you're giving him a hard-on," he laughed. Everyone chuckled, and I was the butt of the joke again, so to speak. 

After dinner, when everyone was full of turkey and pie, the leftovers were put away, and the dishes had been loaded in the dishwasher, we retired to the living room. Emily suggested we sit in a two-person beanbag chair on the floor in front of the fireplace. We both sank down in the beanbag chair, with our backs to the fireplace, while her grandparents sat on a long sofa facing us, and Lisa sat on John's lap on a chair, off to the side.

Emily started the conversation with, "Grandpa Fred, remember when I was about twelve years old and asked about what you did as hippies? You said when I grew up you'd tell me. Well, I'm grown up now, and Mike would like to hear about those times too, wouldn't you, Mike?"

I nodded my head, "Sure."

Once she got them started, they captivated us with their recollection of what it was like back then.

Grandpa Fred started off telling us about how he'd chosen Berkeley because their chemistry department was one of the best in the 1960's. He said around that time, many college-age students began rebelling about a lot of things. It was a time of civil unrest and political upheaval. The Vietnam War was escalating, and the government had started drafting all eligible males between 18 and 26. He said he didn't want any part of serving in the military in what he considered a waste of men and resources.

He told us about some draft card burning protests. The term, "Make love, not war," became a popular message on their protest posters. "If it feels good, do it," was the content of another favorite for their signs. Drugs and free love were available on nearly every university campus, he said. 

He mentioned he didn't know much about hippie culture and wanted to learn more about their philosophy. There were some things he agreed with and some he didn't. The hippie culture preached nonviolence, but at many of the anti-war protests, the police and hippies had bloody confrontations. Even at music festivals, fights broke out. He also said he didn't agree with the hard or hallucinogenic drugs many hippies used. The thing he most agreed with was the sexual freedom.

Fred said when he attended one particular protest, he said he ran into a cute co-ed he knew, named Betty, as he pointed toward her.

Betty smiled when he reached around her shoulder and pulled her toward him.

Fred continued, "We thought alike, and since we'd known each other for a few months, I asked her for a date, and the next thing we knew, we were in bed together. 

"Betty and I attended a couple more hippie protests, but we discovered we weren't cut out to be hippies—we were just pseudo-hippies. I let my hair grow, we wore tie-dyed clothing, beads, sandals, and flowers in our hair. What we enjoyed most was the free love."

Betty joined in, "Yes, the reason we didn't become real hippies is that a lot of them totally lacked basic hygiene—ugh. They smelled like livestock; they hadn't bathed in weeks, and I didn't want to be around them. Many of them lived on communes without any running water. Can you imagine going for a month without a bath? I get a little—how should I say it—a little skanky 'down there' after a few days. And when that time of month came around, I needed to wash it."

Donna spoke up, "Not only us girls—guys don't smell very good down there, either, if they don't bathe. I don't put that thing in my mouth if it hasn't been washed first, especially if it has a foreskin covering it."

Grandma Betty was sitting between Fred and Bill. As the conversation progressed, I noticed her left hand was on Fred's thigh. A couple minutes later it had crept toward his crotch. While Bill was talking, her fingers wrapped around Fred's cock. Fred smiled, and glanced toward her, but kept quiet.

"Remember the first music festival we attended?" asked Grandma Donna.

"What year was that?" Betty asked.

Grandpa Bill said, "It wasn't 1967, because that's the year we went to the Monterey Pop Festival."

Grandpa Fred answered, "I think it was 1966, because I remember I took Betty for her 22nd birthday."

Donna replied, "That's right. Well, go on with your story, Fred."

I saw Grandma Betty's right hand was on Grandpa Bill's thigh.

Fred continued, "There was one music festival we attended, and I can't remember which one it was, but there must have been several thousand hippies there. Besides the music, there was plenty of alcohol, drugs, and sex. The hippies weren't modest in any way. There were way too many people for the number of Porta-potties they had, so a lot of guys and gals just relieved themselves along the outer fence. Some of the drunken girls were dancing topless, attracting quite a crowd. Right out in the open was one gal who had sex with half a dozen guys, one after another. After the first three, so many people crowded around her, we couldn't see anymore, but every time a new guy got off her, a big cheer went up. They clapped and cheered, giving one another high fives.

"Back at school, I ran into Bill one day and he said he'd found a two-bedroom apartment near campus for the next semester, but it was too expensive. He said if we pooled our money, we could rent it.

"I took a look at it and agreed, so we obtained a lease. About a month later, Donna moved in with Bill, and a little later, Betty moved in with me. We shared our beds with them."

Donna interjected, "Yeah, they said we could stay there for free, but it turned out we were roommates with benefits. Betty and I saved a lot of money on rent and clothing, though."




Lucky Beyond Belief Ch. 01



Grandma Betty now had a cock in each hand, and both grandfathers were smiling.

Bill added, "At the time, we weren't nudists, but with the hippie movement going on, we decided the apartment was 'clothing optional.' In public, we wore clothes, though.

"It didn't take long until all four of us were naked in the apartment at the same time. Donna was working as a secretary. Fred and I were studying chemistry, and Betty was working on her education degree, so we were all busy.

"Since we spent most of our time naked, it was easy to tell when either of the girls was having her period. Well, we came up with the idea that whenever one girl was having her period, the other would service both of us. Back then, we just thought sex was sex—mainly recreational, and it didn't matter who it was with."

Emily interrupted, "Grandma Donna, when you said you wanted a foreskin to be clean, it's Grandpa Fred who has a foreskin. Does that mean what I think it does?

"Well, yes, I'm afraid it does, but as I said, it didn't matter to any of us at the time. We all enjoyed the open sexual relationship," Grandma Donna said.

Emily gasped, "You all had sex with one another?"

Grandpa Bill answered, "Most of the time it was with our own partner, but on occasion we swapped off for variety."

"Were all the hippies doing that?" Emily asked.

Grandma Betty answered, "Most of them were. Hippies weren't choosy, they'd have sex with most anyone. We were more discriminating. Besides, we were clean and didn't want to catch an STD."

Grandpa Fred picked up the conversation again, "Neither Bill nor I liked wearing condoms. Of course, you can guess what happened next. Both girls got pregnant within a couple months of each other. Betty was first, then Donna."

Grandma Donna added, "Getting pregnant was the best thing that ever happened to my boobs. Before I got pregnant, they were the size of Emily's, then about the seventh month, they popped. I went from barely a 'B' to almost a 'D' in just a month or so, and they've stayed that way."

Bill laughed, "And did I ever enjoy that—boobies galore.

"Betty had John in March, and Donna had Lisa in May.

"When Donna worked, Betty breastfed both the babies. Then in the evening, Donna took her turn."

Betty jumped in, "When both those babies got to sucking on my nipples, it made my clitty throb so bad, I wanted to jump Fred the minute he got home."

Bill chuckled, "And you did, too. Even with the door closed, it sounded like all hell had broken loose. Betty was squealing at the top of her lungs, 'Faster... Deeper...'"

Betty responded, "Fred gave me orgasm after orgasm during those days. We continued having twosome, threesome, and foursome sex until John and Lisa were about two years old. Then when my OB/GYN found a tumor in my uterus, that shut down the baby factory, when I had a hysterectomy."

Donna added, "After Bill graduated, we moved out of the apartment and decided to give Lisa a little brother, but nothing happened. It took several more years until we discovered Bill's sperm count was so low, that essentially, he was sterile."

Emily interjected, "Wait a minute... If Grandpa Bill is sterile, does that mean... OH... MY... GOD! I can't believe it! Mom and dad are half-siblings! OMG!"

Betty replied, "Yes Emily, you're absolutely right."

"Why didn't anyone ever tell me any of this?" Emily asked, incredulous.

"We all felt you were too young to understand," John said.

Emily was confused, "But if mom and dad are half-siblings, that doesn't explain why are they married to each other."

"There's a long story behind our odd family history," Fred replied.

Lisa interrupted, "Emily honey, it isn't what you think. John and I stayed in contact with one another through high school, and we attended the same university. No one bothered to tell us we had the same father, so when we went to university, we had a normal boy-girl relationship like any other couple. One night we had sex, and the next thing I knew, I was pregnant with you. It wasn't until your grandparents found out I was pregnant that we were told. It was too late to turn back the hands on the clock, so we went ahead and got married."

"So I'm the result of an incestuous coupling?" Emily sputtered, still shocked.

Lisa replied, "Don't think of it that way, Emily. Think of it as you are the product of two loving parents who only want the best for you."

"I'm surprised I don't have three boobs or a horn sticking out of my head," Emily wailed, as she choked back tears. She got out of the beanbag and headed toward the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" Lisa asked.

"I need to get a drink and cool off," Emily replied. "This is too much."

Lisa walked to Emily and hugged her, "Emily dear, I'm so sorry we didn't tell you before, but we didn't think you'd understand. You were too young."

Emily sarcastically replied, "Now I suppose you're going to tell me Mike is my long-lost brother."

"No, it's nothing like that," Grandma Betty answered. "He isn't any relative of yours, as far as I know. But, you did pick a smart, well-hung boyfriend, like I did. You won't regret it."

Emily responded, "Grandma, I was lucky. I already knew he was smart, but yesterday was the first time I saw it."

"Well, a young woman like you needs to consider the satisfaction something like that can provide," Grandma Betty said.

I felt like a breeding bull being discussed at a cattle auction.

Emily got her drink and returned to sit beside me on the beanbag chair.

The conversation took off in a different direction. Politics wasn't as interesting to Emily or me. After a couple minutes, Emily whispered, "Mike, would you like to take a walk?"

"Sure. Right now?"

She stood up and said to everyone, "We're going to take a walk. We'll be back in about an hour."

Emily and I grabbed our towels and strolled down a mountain trail. Since the trail was narrow, I followed her. 

There's something special about watching the backside of a nude young woman as she walks. The way Emily's hips swayed, it appeared the Monarch butterfly on her butt cheek was trying to fly away.

We finally reached a stream that gurgled and splashed over rocks on its way down the mountainside. Emily and I held hands, sitting on a large boulder, taking in the scenery, when we saw a couple deer browsing on the hillside opposite us.

Emily leaned against me and said, "Believe me, I had no idea about all this. I'm sorry you had to learn how fucked up my family tree is. I think there are some monkeys in it somewhere."

I said, "Emily, it doesn't make any difference to me. You're the same today as you were yesterday—you're just better informed now, and I still love you."

She wrapped her arm around me and gave me a kiss, "Thank you Mike. And I love you, too."

* * *

That evening, Lisa served turkey leftovers and we watched a football game on TV. John opened a couple bottles of wine, but Grandpa Fred said he didn't care for wine. He had several whiskey sours, instead.

Emily's Grandpa Bill and Grandma Donna left about 9 PM. When Grandpa Fred said it was time to go home, John said, "Dad, I think you've had too many whiskey sours to drive back to town tonight. The road doesn't have any guard rails, and in the dark it's hard to see the curves. You'd better stay here overnight."

Grandpa Fred agreed. 

Lisa caught John's attention, "Think about sleeping arrangements, Honey. We're one bed short."

John responded, "Ah, yes. Mike is using the guest bedroom."

Emily interjected, "Grandpa and Grandma can use my room, and I'll sleep with Mike. You don't mind, do you Mike?" 

Not only was I shocked about how casually Emily said she was going to sleep with me, but neither her parents nor grandparents raised an eyebrow. Of course I didn't mind—why would I?

"Good idea, Emily," Lisa remarked.

As everyone headed off to their bedroom, Grandpa Fred winked at me and said, "You two sleep well."

Emily grabbed my hand and led me into the guest bedroom. "My roommate back at college says I snore. You really don't mind if I sleep with you, do you?" she asked, with an air of innocence.

"No, I don't mind if you snore." Hell, she could have sounded like a diesel engine when she slept, for all I cared.

"Which side of the bed do you want?" Emily asked.

I answered, "I don't really care, but I think I ought to take a shower before I go to bed."

"I'll join you. You can wash my back..." 

I was hoping she'd say, "...and my front," but she said instead, "...and I'll wash yours."

"Okay."

Emily said, "I have to pee before we shower."

I waited outside the bathroom door while she took care of her needs and she did the same for me. Even though she was a nudist, I figured she needed a little privacy.

When we were done, Emily pulled some towels and washcloths out of the linen closet next to the shower and turned on the water. When it warmed, she stepped in, and I followed. During the evening, my cock had behaved itself for the most part, but now that we were alone in the shower, it had a mind of its own. When Emily bumped her butt into it as she turned around, it came to full attention.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she apologized, as she looked down at it. "Looks like it's too full of sperm again," she grinned.

We each washed our rusty parts. Then she gently washed my back, and I washed hers. It was difficult to keep my hands from wandering to intimate places on her body.

Things were fairly tame in the shower until she looked over her shoulder with an impish smile and backed up, wiggling her butt against my stiff cock.

"Are you sure you aren't from the fire department?" she asked.

"What?" I didn't understand her question.

"I think you're a fireman, because you've got your hose out," she giggled.

After we were squeaky clean, Emily shut off the shower and we dried off, brushed our teeth, and were ready to get into bed.

I pulled the sheet and blanket back for her and she climbed in. 'What an angel,' I thought to myself as she lay down naked on the bed. I walked to the other side of the bed and lay down beside her.

I rolled toward her to give her a goodnight kiss, and then she rolled toward me, to return the kiss. That's when her leg bumped into my rigid cock.

"Oh, I'm sorry again," she said. "For some reason it keeps getting in the way. Would you like for me to take care of it for you?"

"Like yesterday afternoon?" I asked.

"No, like sex."

"I don't have a condom," I replied.

"Don't worry about that, I'm on the pill."

She snuggled against me and pressed her breasts against my chest.

"Your parents don't care if you have sex?" I asked.

"They did until I was eighteen, but I think they agree with my grandparents' philosophy about free love. They told me they'd prefer that I have sex in their home with someone they know, rather than with an unknown man in the back seat of his car, in some god-forsaken remote spot."

Now that it was certain that we were going to have sex, I realized I'd have to bare my black secret to her. 

I got my courage up. "Emily..."

She looked at me expectantly with those sexy bluish green eyes, "Yes, Mike?"

"Emily, I really want to have sex with you, but I've only done it once with a girl after senior prom. We lost our virginity to each other—I broke her hymen and then I didn't last fifteen seconds. I was humiliated, and it was about the most awkward experience either of us ever had. In fact, she wouldn't return my calls, and that was the last date I had with her. I don't want the same to happen between you and me. I love you and want to please you in every way I can."

All I could think about was my male performance anxiety.

She considered what I'd said for several seconds and responded, "I'm sorry about your humiliation, Mike. Everyone is new at it one time or another. 

"I'm not offering sex because I expect you to knock my socks off—I'm offering sex because I love you. If you shoot off too quick, we'll just have to keep going until you don't."

I thought her mention of wearing socks was ironic since she was a nudist.

She scooted closer to me and pressed her lips against mine. It wasn't long until our tongues were dancing inside each other's mouth. We made out for several minutes, getting hotter and hotter in the process. I was on my back with Emily's body on top of mine. She'd moved so my cock was between her thighs, and I knew she could feel it was totally erect.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied.

We rolled over so I was on top. She spread her legs and guided my cock into her hot, wet pussy.

The feelings I had as I pushed into her were beyond indescribable. About four strokes later, I could feel those familiar feelings that I'd reached the point of no return. I tried to hold it back, but I lost it, filling her with my semen.

"Emily, I'm so sorry," I said. I was embarrassed, and mad at myself because I couldn't last.

She tenderly hugged me and whispered, "It's all right, Mike. Now I have to use the bidet."

Emily grabbed a facial tissue off the night stand and pressed it between her thighs. Then she got out of bed and headed into the bathroom. She was gone for a few minutes, coming back with a warm washcloth, which she used to clean me off. She lovingly kissed me goodnight and spooned up against me.

I lay there, listening to her steady breathing as she slept, cursing my problem. Eventually, I also fell asleep, cuddling her in my arms.

Sometime during the night, I was awakened with a pleasant sensation on my cock. As I awoke, in the near darkness, I realized I was on my back and Emily had impaled herself on my cock. She was rocking her pelvis back and forth in an erotic way. The warm, wet embrace of her hot, slippery pussy was rapidly driving me toward my peak.

"Shhh..." she whispered. "I noticed you had an erection, and thought I'd take advantage of it."

She drained my balls a second time that night, and I'm sure she wished I'd been able to satisfy her womanly needs.

"I was almost there—just a few more seconds," Emily whined.

"Damn, I wish I could last longer to please you," I growled.

"You just need more experience, that's all. You're too uptight about it," Emily whispered, as she departed to use the bidet again.

When she returned, we cuddled under the sheets once more. This time, we slept until the sun woke us up. Emily's long hair was tousled, but I thought she was as beautiful as ever.

Emily and I showered together and toweled off. John, Lisa, Grandpa Fred, and Grandma Betty were already seated at the breakfast table when we arrived. Emily had a definite glow about her.

"Did you two sleep well?" Grandma Betty asked.

Grandpa Fred snickered, "Betty, do you remember when we were that age? We didn't get a wink of sleep, and I doubt they did, either." He looked at Emily and me, "Am I right?"

Emily fired right back, "Grandpa, I had the best sleep ever—between rounds."

Everyone chuckled at her remark.

Grandpa Fred wouldn't let it go, "So how many rounds?"

Emily shut him up with, "Probably more than you and Grandma had."

Our conversation was cut short by Lisa who began serving breakfast.

After breakfast, Emily's Grandpa Fred and Grandma Betty departed. John drove me into town in the Miata to visit his chemical plant. 

Since all his employees were off work on Black Friday, he was able to show me everything without interfering with anyone at work. He showed me that at one end of the plant, trucks piped their liquid contents into tanks. There were many pipes, valves, gauges, and manifolds. He demonstrated how some of the mixing equipment worked, pointed out an autoclave, and showed me some catalytic devices they used. John mentioned the plant had been built in the 1970's, and all the equipment was manually controlled.

John then led me to the lab, full of all kinds of complex chemical equipment, where they tested the incoming and outgoing products.

He said, "Emily used to spend hours down here in the lab and I taught her hands-on chemistry."

"So that's why she knows so much about chemistry?"

"Yes, she picked it up relatively easily."

After the plant tour, John said, "I'm considering automating our equipment so we can eliminate the manual processes. Because our chemicals must meet tight specifications, if they are off by just a percent, the whole batch is rejected by our customers."

"That must be expensive," I said.

John nodded, then explained he expected Emily to take over the business after he retired. That explained why she was a business major, getting a minor in chemistry.

On the way back to John's home, we discussed various ways he could automate his plant. I mentioned that perhaps the first step would be to replace all the manual valves with electronic ones and to remotely read the gauges. That way, one person could control all of them from one location. 

As the second step, I suggested remote sensors and equipment which could meter the exact amounts of a chemical flowing through a pipe.

Then as the third step, I said I was sure a computer could be connected to the valves, sensors, gauges, and so on, to fully automate the process. It would take some specialized software to accomplish the automation, but I figured there were companies which sold it.

John thoughtfully listened to my conversation and said, "It sounds like you've done this before. Have you?"

"No," I replied. "With proper planning, though, I think it would pay for itself in a short period of time if you didn't have to throw out any ruined batches."

"Good idea—I'll consider it," he answered.

* * *

We stayed up late Friday evening watching a movie in John and Lisa's home theater.

I yawned and Emily said, "I think you're ready to go to bed."

"Yeah, I'm starting to get sleepy," I replied.

Emily jumped up, even though the movie hadn't ended, and announced to John and Lisa, "I'm going to sleep with Mike again tonight."

She grabbed my hand and said, "Let's go."

In the shower, Emily said, "I told Mom about your problem while you and Dad were at the plant today."

"Emily! You didn't!"

"Yes I did. She gave me some good tips, too."

"Emily, I don't need your mother involved in my sex life," I huffed.

"Men—you're all the same. You won't ask for directions, and you won't let anyone help you, even when you need it."

We finished up in the bathroom and went to bed. Emily snuggled up next to me, "Mom says you need a hand job."

"How does your mother know that?"

"I told her what happened last night. She said dad had the same problem when they were dating. You see, you've gone for a long time without sex, so when you finally get it, you get over-excited."

"So how do I keep from getting over-excited?" I asked.

"Just lie back and I'll show you," she said.

Emily brought a warm washcloth from the bathroom and began giving me a hand job, just like the one she'd given me on Wednesday evening.

"Let me know when you're getting close," Emily said, then she continued stroking.

A few strokes later, I could feel myself nearing the point of no return. "I'm almost there," I said.

Emily stopped and said, "Take a deep breath." Then she squeezed the end of my penis between her thumb and forefinger for about thirty seconds and gently pulled my scrotum down with her other hand.

"Mom says when a man is ready to ejaculate, his scrotum pulls up next to his body. When I pull it down, it reduces the urge to ejaculate, and squeezing just behind the head of your penis does too."

Emily was right, I could feel the urge diminish.

"Let me know when you're ready again," Emily said.

Less than a minute later, I said, "Go ahead."

Emily went back to work. As I was reaching for another peak, I said, "I'm close."

She used the same technique she'd used before. We did that three more times until she said, "This time, let it all out."




Lucky Beyond Belief Ch. 01



It felt like I ejaculated a gallon of sperm when I finally came.

"That's a good boy." Emily smiled at me as she cleaned me off with the washcloth. 

"Mom says it took several weeks of treatment before dad could keep from ejaculating too early. Now are you ready for sex?"

"You know I am," I said.

Emily scooted next to me so I could feel the warmth of her skin against me, "Before we have sex, I want you to know girls have needs too. What do you know about foreplay?"

"Not much," I said. "I only had sex once, before I had sex with you."

"I think you spent too much time learning about electronics and not enough time learning about girls," Emily said. "Let me give you a tour of the playground."

She took my right hand and placed it on her boob. "Feel how hard my nipple is?" she asked. "They're extremely sensitive, and if you flip them with your tongue, it makes my pussy tingle."

I took the hint and gently suckled her left nipple. She sighed and wrapped her arms around my head pulling my face tightly against her chest, "Ohh... Mike... Yes..."

When she released me, I was lying on my side with my cock poking into her thigh. She took my hand and guided it to her mound. 

"Slide your middle finger between my lips and move it up to the top," she directed.

"Right there... That's it," she murmured. "That little button is my clitty... or clitoris if you want to be technically correct.

"If you want to really turn me on, rub around it in small circles," she whispered.

I felt around until I located her clitty and did as she asked. Emily began making little whimpers, purring almost like a kitten.

She grabbed my hand and guided my finger inside her vagina. "You need a little more lubrication," she said.

The aroma of her aroused pussy filled the air around us. 'What a lovely scent,' I thought. I couldn't imagine any store-bought perfume which could have been a better aphrodisiac.

I returned my finger to her clitty and continued rubbing in small circles. Her clit had magically increased in size—in fact, so had my cock.

Emily's breathing became ragged as she lay there with her eyes closed, mouthing, "Don't stop... Don't stop..."

A few minutes later, she was reaching her peak, so I redoubled my effort by rubbing faster. "Oh... Yessss..." she hissed.

When her orgasm hit her, Emily's body went into one giant spasm. Her tummy, her arms, her legs—I think every muscle in her body contracted at the same time. I kept rubbing, and Emily's body appeared to be afflicted by a seizure. She pushed my hand away and lay there panting heavily.

"Thank you, Michael," she gasped. "You're the best."

After she'd calmed down, she grabbed my cock and said, "Now it's your turn. Make love to me."

All day I'd looked forward to being connected with Emily, like a pair of Siamese twins, conjoined at the genitals. I rolled on top of her and she guided me inside. Her pussy was slick with her juices, and I easily slipped inside in one stroke. I had achieved nirvana.

When I was finally balls deep in Emily's vagina, she said, "Stop. Don't move."

I followed her instruction.

"Now take a deep breath and let it out slowly," she said. "When you begin thrusting, do it very slowly, and when you're getting close, stop and take another deep breath. Think about something to distract you—like the periodic table to keep your mind off your anxiety."

I started moving within her again, and the sensations on my cock were amazing. It only took a few strokes until the urge to complete the act was overwhelming. I carried out Emily's guidance and was surprised when it worked. A few more strokes and I stopped and took another deep breath. 

"What's the next element beyond aluminum?" I asked.

"Silicon," she chuckled. "You took my advice."

I wasn't timing myself, but several strokes later, it seemed I lasted a lot longer before I finally ejaculated into Emily.

"See, it works," she smiled up at me, giving me a fierce hug.

"Yes, but I still didn't last as long as I wanted," I grumbled.

"At least you're making progress," she said, smiling. "Now, let's use the bidet."

We went into the bathroom and Emily straddled the bidet, turning on the warm water. When she finished washing and drying her girl parts, she said, "Your turn."

She showed me how to control the bidet spray, I washed off my man parts, and we went back to bed.

We made love twice more that night, and I realized my urge to release was extended each time we did it.

Eventually, sleep caught up with us, and we fell asleep in each other's arms. Happiness was snuggling around my warm Emily.

As I curled around her sleeping body, I couldn't think of a time when I'd been happier. Cupid had hit me squarely with one of his arrows, and I didn't care.

* * *

Saturday morning, Lisa let us sleep until nearly 9 AM before she woke us up. Emily and I showered and arrived in the kitchen to find Lisa making waffles.

John was sitting at the breakfast table, drinking his coffee. I placed my towel on the kitchen chair and sat down across from him. He poured me a cup and said, "Good morning."

I returned his greeting. Emily stepped next to me and placed her arm around my shoulder, "Would you like syrup or jam on your waffle?" she asked.

"Definitely jam," I said.

Emily went to the refrigerator and bent over to get the butter and jam to put on our waffles. Viewing the backside of a beautiful young woman as she bends over sparks a male's primal urges. The Monarch butterfly tattoo on Emily's butt cheek was like whipped cream on a dessert—not necessary, but it made it so much more appealing.

Lisa brought a stack of waffles to the table, and Emily arrived at the same time with the butter and jam.

"Sleep well?" John asked.

"Yes, I'd say that," I responded. What else are you supposed to say to the father of your girlfriend whom you just slept with?

Lisa and Emily sat down and started a conversation. Lisa asked, "Did it work?"

Emily said, "More or less—can't be sure until later."

Lisa said, "Practice, Emily—practice and patience. You can't play a perfect piano concert without practice. It'll work out eventually."

They seemed to be conversing in a private code which I didn't understand—maybe it was a family thing.

Emily said to Lisa, "He lasted a lot longer last night," and then to me, "Didn't you, Mike?"

They were talking about me—and my problem. All the air went out of my lungs—I wanted to dissolve into the woodwork.

Lisa patted my hand, "There's nothing to be ashamed of, Mike. John was the same way the first few months we had sex."

John just sat there drinking his coffee, listening, but not saying a word.

"But it's so personal and embarrassing," I lamented.

"Mike, one of the benefits of being a nudist is that it helps you get over your inadequacies. Once you've exposed all of yourself to the whole world, you begin to see yourself in a whole different light. We have few secrets to hide." Lisa said.

I was miffed, "Well, my secret has been laid bare."

"Now that we all know what your problem is, we can help you solve it," Lisa replied.

John finally joined the conversation, "I think Lisa is right, Mike. Recognizing that you have a problem is half of it. Accepting help is the other half.

"As parents, Lisa and I both want Emily to be as happy as possible. She loves you, and we know you love her. Lisa and I want you to be happy, too, because you're her boyfriend."

John then asked Emily, "Are you still taking your depression medicine?"

"No daddy, I stopped taking it after I arrived at college."

Then John spoke to me, "Thanks to you, Emily's problem is gone. Now it's her turn to help you with yours."

I thought their casual conversation about my problem seemed as normal to them as if they'd been discussing me having stubbed a toe. I also thought perhaps some of what Lisa said about being a nudist and seeing myself in a new light was rubbing off.

"What are you two going to do the remainder of the day?" Lisa asked.

Emily answered, "I thought we'd hang around the pool and get some sun. We haven't spent much time outside, and today is sunny and warm. The weather will be too cold to do that back at school."

Her comment about cold weather made me think about home and cold weather—I'd forgotten to call my mom on Thanksgiving. Mom was going to have a hissy-fit because she hadn't heard from me.

I excused myself, went to the guest bedroom, and searched through my bag to find my cell phone. The battery was charged, so I dialed home. Mom answered on the second ring.

"Hi Mom," I said, trying to be cheerful.

"Mike, where are you? I thought you were going to call on Thanksgiving, and now it's two days later."

"I'm sorry Mom," I said. "I'm at my girlfriend's parents' house, and I forgot."

"Her parents are there, aren't they?" Mom was always a little suspicious.

"Oh yeah, Mom."

"You could have at least called on Thanksgiving—we missed you." She sounded peeved and upset.

"We had your Aunt Valerie, Uncle Bob, and her four boys for Thanksgiving," Mom said.

"I thought they were going to Florida," I answered.

"Valerie broke her ankle two weeks ago and they couldn't go. Since she couldn't cook for Thanksgiving, we invited them here," she said.

Now my aunt Valerie was a woman whose favorite pastime was to describe her many medical afflictions to anyone who would listen. She'd had gall bladder surgery, high blood pressure, bursitis, asthma, diabetes, an irritable bowel, kidney stones, and enough odd symptoms to fill a medical journal. Her four boys, aged 7 to 12 could break an anvil within ten minutes of it being given to them. I was rather glad I'd missed Thanksgiving at home.

"What have you been doing?" Mom asked.

How do you explain to your very proper mother that you've been spending the past three days with your nudist girlfriend and parents? 

"Oh, we've mostly just hung around Emily's house," I said. There are some things you don't tell your mother.

"Why don't you send me a photo of your girlfriend?" she asked.

"Uhhhh..." I didn't think mom would appreciate me sending a photo of my nude girlfriend.

"What's the matter, Mike?"

"I'll send you a photo when we get back to school, Mom."

She declared, "Michael Allen—since you missed Thanksgiving with family, your father and I expect that you'll be here for Christmas."

When she used my middle name, I knew I'd better do as she asked. We talked for another ten minutes or so about this and that, and we finally ended our talk.

After my phone conversation with Mom, Emily and I went outside and swam in the heated pool for about half an hour. Then we exited the pool and decided to sunbathe. It was considerably warmer than we'd expected for so late in November. Emily went into the house and came back with a bottle of suntan lotion.

"Mike, would you put some suntan lotion on me, pretty please?" Emily asked.

"Sure," I answered.

Emily was lying face down on a chaise lounge with her face away from the sun. I spread a thick layer of suntan lotion from her neck down to her toes, making a second pass over her cute butt, just to prevent her butterfly from getting sunburned. 

Emily rolled over and asked, "Now could you do my front?"

"Of course," I said. "I wouldn't want any part of your precious body to get sunburned."

I took my time, smearing the suntan lotion over every square inch of skin. I stopped at her breasts and gave her nipples a couple extra dollops of lotion, and I did the same around her pussy. The longer I spread suntan lotion, the stiffer my cock became.

Rubbing the lotion into her pubic hair, I asked, "Don't want to get that sunburned, do you?"

"No Mike. If my pussy got sunburned, you'd be upset."

Lisa stepped out the door at that point and walked to another chaise lounge not far from Emily's.

Lisa said, "Mike, when you're done with Emily, would you please put some suntan lotion on me, too?"

I couldn't bring myself to say 'no' to Emily's mom, could I?

"Okay," I responded.

Lisa lay face down on the chaise, and I spread the suntan lotion on every exposed spot on her smoking hot body as I'd done for Emily.

"Will you do my front, now?" Lisa asked.

"Gladly," I said.

"Don't forget my nips," she reminded me. "I don't want to get them sunburned."

"Sure." 

I applied a glob of lotion to each breast, spending more time than I should have, rubbing lotion into each one. Then I added more to each nipple—they each stuck up hard, like solid gumdrops. 

As I worked further down her body, she spread her thighs so I could apply lotion to the inside of them. I got a whiff of her feminine odor mixed with suntan lotion. Seeing her fully exposed pussy gave me a rigid hard-on.

"Do you want lotion between your legs, too?" I asked.

"Sure," she sighed. "Don't need any blisters down there, do I?"

I spread a generous layer of suntan lotion around her pussy. Her pubic hair was longer than Emily's, so it didn't seem to spread as easily, causing me to spend more time rubbing it into her skin.

Lisa shivered, "You're good. No wonder Emily enjoys being with you."

She glanced down at my full hard-on, and said, "Poor boy, it appears you need another hand job."

Lisa called to Emily, "Emily dear, I have another chore for you." 

Emily lifted her head and asked, "What is it, Mom?"

"Mike needs a release again, and that's your responsibility, not mine," Lisa said.

Emily got up and grabbed my hand, leading me into the house.

* * *

After lunch, Emily beat me at pool and darts again. My excuse was that she'd lived there since she was a child, so she had more experience than me.

Later, while John barbecued ribs on the grill for dinner Saturday evening, Lisa gave Emily a chore to prepare a fresh fruit salad. Lisa left the kitchen and beckoned me to come with her.

Outside of Emily's earshot, Lisa said in a low voice, "I know you and Emily love each other, but she tells me she's been left frustrated at night because you ejaculate too soon. I know that's not your intent, and don't tell her I told you this, but perhaps oral sex could make up for it."

Saturday evening Emily sat on my lap, watching another movie with her parents while we snacked on popcorn. 

* * *

When Emily and I went to bed Saturday night, I realized it was going to be our last night together before returning to college. I thanked my lucky stars that I'd had an opportunity to have sex with the young woman I loved. Then I cursed my premature ejaculation issue.

After kissing, hugging, and some light foreplay, Emily said, "I'm going to give you another hand job so you won't be as sensitive when we have sex."

She grabbed a warm washcloth and gave me yet another wonderful hand job. Emily seemed to know at what point I'd ejaculate, so she'd stop and squeeze my cock and gently pull on my scrotum until my urge to release declined. About the third time, she let me erupt mightily into the washcloth.

When Emily returned from the bathroom, she said, "Now for lesson two about girls. I'm going to teach you about the G-spot."

Emily jumped into bed on her back. She took my hand, palm up and closed it. Then she extended my middle finger, slipping it easily between her labia. Her pussy was hot and wet; I caught a whiff of her arousal.

"Now move your finger like you were gesturing me to come to you," she said. "There's a slightly rough area behind my pubic bone—can you feel it?"

I moved my finger and felt around. "Yes, I can feel it," I responded.

"That's my G-spot," she said. "It's not as sensitive as my clitty, but if you hit it while we're having sex, it feels really, really good."

At Lisa's suggestion, I thought to myself, 'It's now or never.'

I began kissing the inside of Emily's thighs, beginning at her knees. Up one leg and down the other, I kissed, but not on her pussy itself. Then I kissed and licked the inside of her thighs to about six inches below her pussy. Finally, her pussy was my target.

I parted her labia with my thumbs and licked up and down the inside of both sides of her labia, then all the way from the bottom to the top several times, causing Emily to whimper. The odor of her sexual arousal was thick in the air.

When I began licking and sucking her clitty, she was moaning and moving her hips in jerky movements. Emily's lubrication, which had been a slow-as-molasses drip became a flood.

I determined I was going to keep on doing that until one of us couldn't take it anymore. Emily's thigh muscles began quivering, then I noticed her tummy muscles were doing the same. Eventually, her resistance snapped, and her thighs clamped tightly against my ears as she rolled from one orgasm into the next as I kept licking and sucking.

"No more... No more..." Emily huffed, as her thighs dropped away from my ears and she lay there panting as if she'd run a four-minute mile.

Even though my tongue was nearly worn out and my jaw was sore, it was worth it to sexually satisfy my darling Emily.

My cock was as hard as a hammer handle at that point. Without asking, I plowed into Emily's vagina and began pumping. Emily looked up at me with surprise in her eyes. She began thrusting back in the same rhythm.

I realized at that moment my premature ejaculation problem had abated, and I was going to make the most of it. I moved my pelvis so my cock was at her pussy's opening, then I slowly pushed as deep as I could, bumping against something she later told me was her cervix. I kept doing that a steady pace. 

We were hot, sweaty, horny, and so much in love.

Emily wrapped her legs around my butt and her arms around my back—I could feel her fingernails digging into me as she moved her pelvis into me, attempting to bring herself to another orgasm.

The odor of Emily's pussy, along with her heat and lubrication was bringing me closer to mine. Premature ejaculation was the last thing on my mind as the two of us shared an earth-shattering climax. I felt her pussy spasm on my cock, which triggered me to ejaculate again and again until it felt like I'd filled her to the brim.

When we finally got our breath back, Emily questioned, "What happened?"

"What do you mean, 'What happened?'"

"I meant, 'Wow! What happened to your male performance anxiety?'"

"I don't know," I answered. I really hadn't thought about it before we began having sex.

She kissed me, then duck-walked into the bathroom with a sperm-filled tissue between her legs.

We used the bidet, and returned to bed. Twice more, we had sex before we fell asleep, exhausted.

* * *

On Sunday morning, Emily and I were spooned together under the sheets. I had entered her from behind, gently thrusting in and out while she was exercising her pussy muscles on my cock. 

Lisa came into the guest bedroom, and when she saw what we were doing, said, "Oh, I'm sorry to interrupt. Go ahead and finish. Breakfast will be served in thirty minutes."

Emily casually answered, "Okay, Mom."

As Lisa left the guest bedroom, she said, "Remember, you two have to be at the airport at noon to fly back to college."

"Oh darn," Emily yawned. "I was enjoying sleeping here with Mike."

After Emily and I showered, we joined John and Lisa for breakfast. I thanked them for allowing me to join Emily for the most memorable Thanksgiving weekend I'd ever had. 

Lisa patted my shoulder, and said, "We've enjoyed having you as our guest."

What happened next made me feel like the luckiest guy in the world. Lisa said, "We've rented a two-bedroom chalet in Aspen over Christmas break. Michael, would you like to join John, Emily, and me for a week of skiing?"

* * * 

Tune in again, same time—same station, next month for Chapter 2.



Lucky Beyond Belief Ch. 02



Thanks to my editor, Nymphwriter, and my loyal beta readers who found my errors and made corrections, comments, and suggestions to improve my story. Any errors you may find are mine alone.

* * *

If you haven't read Chapter 1, I suggest you do so—there's a lot of background material which you've missed.

If you've read Chapter 1, as you recall, Michael visited Emily's nudist parents over the Thanksgiving weekend. Michael, being a first-time nudist, had difficulty with his boner getting in his way. It was Michael's first time sitting naked at the Thanksgiving dinner table staring at eight lovely breasts around him. Emily learned her parents were half-siblings. Then she joined Michael in the guest bedroom when there weren't enough beds to sleep everyone, and Michael had a problem with premature ejaculation when he and Emily had sex. This chapter begins with Mike and Emily returning from Thanksgiving weekend. 

* * *

After a memorable Thanksgiving weekend with the Thompson's, it was time to return to college and finish our first semester. It was my first time being a nudist and I enjoyed it. The time had come for us to pack our bags and put on our clothing. Lisa, still nude, hugged Emily and me goodbye. John drove us to the airport for the trip back to school. When we arrived at the airport about 11:30 AM, the crew was readying the business jet for flight.

Before boarding the plane, I thanked John for allowing me to accompany Emily over the Thanksgiving weekend. He shook my hand and said, "I hope you'll join us in Aspen for Christmas"

"Yes, I'm looking forward to it," I answered.

He patted me on the shoulder, "Take good care of my Emily."

I replied, "You know I will."

Emily hugged him goodbye and we boarded the plane. Shortly after noon, we departed. Emily and I were so sexually exhausted from our romp in bed on Saturday night, that we both napped most of the way back to college.

Once back at college, the first few days returned to normal—well, mostly normal. During the Thanksgiving weekend Emily and I were gone, our football team clinched the conference championship, and everyone on campus was awaiting an announcement about which bowl game we'd go to.

I worked Monday and Wednesday at the pizza carry-out and studied with Emily on Tuesday. On Thursday, Emily and I had arranged to get together to study for an upcoming chemistry exam. I headed toward Emily's dorm, thinking about how I'd enjoyed sex with her.

It was dusk as I was taking a shortcut from my dorm to Emily's for another study-date, heading toward the rear entry of Emily's dorm. The back of Emily's dorm had little traffic in the evening; it was where the loading dock and dumpsters were located. Only dorm residents could get in the back door, and they needed a key card to get in, so I always called Emily's cell phone to let her know I was there so she could let me in.

Emily didn't answer her phone, even though we'd agreed to get together. As I rounded the corner of the dorm, I heard someone calling for help—it sounded like a woman's voice. Behind the bushes, a tall male was holding a woman against the wall. She was pleading, "No—nooo. Please don't. Let me go!"

The male had her hands pinned against the wall above her head, and she was naked from the waist down. I recognized the woman was Emily! Without thinking, I ran and jumped on his back in a blind rage. I wrapped my arm around his throat, trying to pull him off her. 

Immediately I realized that was the wrong thing to do, and all I was doing was pissing him off. He appeared to be about six inches taller than me, and outweighed me by a lot. The male pushed me off his back and turned toward me with one arm drawn back. 

'Oh shit, my luck has run out,' was my last thought just before he hit me with a fist that felt like I just ran face first into the brick wall behind Emily. 

I woke up lying face down on the sidewalk handcuffed with my hands behind my back. The siren and lights on the police car brought people out of the woodwork to see what was going on. Several gawkers were standing on the loading dock. 

My head was spinning, and I was in great pain.

A police officer stood me up and pushed me toward the squad car. "Don't get blood on the seat," he said, as he roughly shoved me in. I saw a woman police officer with a clipboard questioning Emily.

At the university police station, as the police officer walked me in, head football Coach Joder was leaving with the guy I'd pulled off Emily. The fellow with Coach Joder looked like he didn't have a scratch on him, while my nose was bleeding, I had a split lip, a broken front tooth, bruises, and an assortment of small cuts and scrapes.

At the university police station, I was booked, fingerprinted, had a mug shot taken, and was questioned about the altercation which had taken place behind Emily's dorm. In the statement I gave, I said that I'd heard a woman pleading for help, and when I investigated, I saw her skirt and panties around her ankles. I said I was sure I'd walked into an attempted rape. I mentioned that I only did what every concerned male ought to do.

A nurse from the student dispensary was summoned, and she came by with some antiseptic and bandages for my wounds. 

The university police let me go back to my dorm, telling me that I couldn't leave campus. When I arrived at my room, my roommate barely recognized me. I nearly vomited when I saw my face in the mirror. It looked like hamburger and I was going to have a serious black eye in a day or so. I took some Motrin the nurse gave me. The way I felt told me it may be a couple days until I could attend class.

I called Emily to learn how she was doing. Between sobs, she thanked me for rescuing her from being raped. She said her attacker grabbed her and dragged her into the bushes behind the dorm. Emily reported her assailant ripped her skirt off and pulled her panties down. He'd pulled his cock out just before I jumped on his back. She said she recognized her attacker was Jason Halbertsen, a junior fullback whom she'd tutored in chemistry so he could fill a science requirement.

Emily told me she was going to quit tutoring immediately and wasn't going to leave the dormitory alone anymore. I promised her I'd escort her to every class when I was available, to and from the cafeteria, and the library.

* * *

About 9 AM the following morning, I received a call from the university police. They wanted me to return to the police station about some 'irregularity' with my statement. When I arrived, Coach Joder was already there. The police officer said my statement differed from Jason Halbertsen's statement, and they wanted to sort out the differences. I said that my statement was truthful, but I soon got the idea the truth wasn't what they wanted.

"Is Emily Thompson your girlfriend?" coach asked.

"Yes," I answered.

The police officer asked, "According to her statement, you visit her dormitory often, is that correct?"

"Yes, we study chemistry together."

Coach interrupted and raised his eyebrows, "Are you sure it was just to study? Are you sure you weren't there for sex? When you saw Mister Halbertsen with your girlfriend, you became jealous and attacked him, is that correct?"

"No, she was crying for help and he was about to rape her, so I jumped on his back."

The police officer came back with, "Well, Mister Thomas, Coach Joder's assertion may be off base, but your statement doesn't match Miss Thompson's."

I couldn't believe my ears. Emily said Jason Halbertsen ripped her panties off and had his cock out. That sounded like an attempted rape to me. 

The coach and the police officer were doing a 'good cop-bad cop' routine. I thought the way they worked together so well was that they'd done this before.

Coach said, "I spoke with Mister Halbertsen about the incident last night, and it seems you misunderstood that he was merely talking with Miss Thompson."

"We have another statement for you to sign, Mister Thomas," the campus policeman said.

I read the statement, and there wasn't anything in it about an attempted rape. In fact, the way it was written, it appeared I had instigated a fight while Jason Halbertsen was talking with Emily Thompson.

"I think signing this statement is a better choice for you than being expelled from the university for assault, don't you?" the coach asked.

I couldn't believe it—I was livid. I hadn't done anything wrong in my opinion, but the campus police were left to their own interpretation of the facts—with the help of the head football coach.

After signing the statement, I went to Emily's dorm. She was concerned about my black eye and my injuries.

When I told her I'd been told to change my statement, she said that she was asked to change hers, too. She said she was warned that making a false rape allegation was a felony. They told her an allegation of attempted rape would cause her to lose at least a semester of school with the convening of a grand jury, lawyers, lengthy investigation, trial, and so on. Also, they told that her name would be in all the local papers. It was her word against his, they said, and their opinion was that she would probably lose. Since she hadn't been raped, if she changed her statement, they'd let her return to the dormitory, no more questions asked. Her statement still indicated that I'd jumped on Halbertsen's back, provoking the fight.

"I can't believe it," I said. "You were almost raped, and now Jason Halbertsen walks away free."

"I didn't want to get expelled from the university," Emily sighed.

"So that's what they said to you, too?" I asked. I shook my head in disbelief. A rogue football player and the football coach held all the trump cards.

"What can we do?" Emily asked. "We're only freshmen."

"I don't know, but we'll think of something. Maybe we could spread rumors that Halbertsen has an STD."

"No, that probably wouldn't work."

"Yeah, you're right. We need to come up with something better."

By the end of the next day, Emily told me she had talked with several other co-eds who'd been groped, date raped, or coerced into intercourse.

After thinking about it over the weekend, it came to me. I was going to make an appointment with the university president and tell him how college women were being sexually harassed on campus and abused by male students.

On Monday when I called the president's office, telling his secretary my reason for making an appointment, she told me he was out of town for the remainder of the week at an education conference. She transferred my call to the provost's secretary, who offered to make an appointment with the provost, instead.

Well, if I couldn't talk with the top man, at least I'd be able to talk with number two. He must have nearly as much influence as the president. She scheduled a 10 AM appointment for the next morning. I'd have to cut a class, but it would be worth it to argue that the university was unsafe for women. Bringing attention to the problem could benefit every woman on campus.

The next morning, Emily sent me off with a kiss and a wish for success. I was at the administration building about ten minutes early, ready to discuss the womens' situation. On the second floor I found a door with the title, Office of the Provost. Under that, I saw the name, Dr. Charles Bullin.

The very pretty secretary greeted me and told me Dr. Bullin was busy. While waiting in his outer office, I saw a photo of a young Charles Bullin in a university cheerleader's uniform with an attractive female cheerleader. At the bottom was an autograph, 'Love, Cindy. Homecoming 1975.' I wondered if the female cheerleader was now his wife. A plaque next to the photo indicated Professor Bullin was a life member of the university alumni association. Next to that was a framed photo of Professor Bullin with Coach Joder, both of them smiling, holding a golf trophy over their heads.

Time passed, 10:10... 10:20... 10:30... I was getting anxious that I might miss another class. Finally, about 10:35, the secretary's intercom buzzed, and she told me I could enter Professor Bullin's office.

I introduced myself as Michael Thomas and shook hands with him across his cluttered desk. He said, "Sit down and please hurry. I have a meeting in fifteen minutes."

Since I didn't have much time, I thought I'd quickly describe what had happened on Thursday night and how injustice had been done. 

"Professor Bullin," I began, "I think women on this campus need more protection. On Thursday evening I happened to witness an attempted rape of a female student behind her dormitory. When I tried to pull the the guy off her, he came at me, broke my tooth, split my lip, gave me a bloody nose, and a black eye..."

The entire time I was talking, Professor Bullin was sitting at his desk leafing through a pile of papers, looking for something. I was thinking, 'He isn't even listening to me.'

"I heard about your fight, Mister..." He stopped talking and wrinkled his brows. 

Hell, he'd already forgotten my name. "Thomas," I filled in his blank.

"Ah yes, Mister Thomas. I spoke with Coach Joder about it yesterday. He says there was a difference of opinion among the three of you—Miss Thompson, my stepson, and you. You have to realize that you can't go around attacking other students without provocation."

"Jason Halbertsen is your stepson?" I asked.

"Why, yes he is," Dr Bullin said. "He's my wife's son by her first marriage."

'Oh shit!' I thought. 'I've made a big mistake bringing the womens' problems to him.'

"Regarding Jason, you realize that we have an upcoming bowl game. If he doesn't play, we might lose."

"But this isn't about a bowl game. He was trying to rape her," I huffed.

"That's not how I heard it. You jumped on Jason's back," he countered.

"Yes, that's because he'd pulled her skirt and panties off. I kept him from raping her," I ranted.

He looked at me, and said, "If news like that left this campus, it would give the university a very black eye, very much like your own. You wouldn't want that to happen, would you?"

"No, but the truth hurts sometimes," I said.

He ignored my response and said, "Coach Joder said he talked with Jason about the incident. I know Jason would never do anything like that, but since he lives in the athletic dorm, I haven't talked with him yet. Jason told Coach Joder that he was merely talking with Miss Thompson when you attacked him. I've known the coach for fifteen years, and he wouldn't lie to me."

"So you're believing the coach who wasn't even there, and you won't believe me as an eyewitness?"

He didn't answer my question. Standing up, he looked down at me over his glasses, "Excuse me, Mister Thomas, I have a meeting to attend." He shoved the entire sheaf of papers in his briefcase and left his office. 

I hadn't been there even five minutes. I suppose the fact that he was the number two man at the university prevailed over any argument I might have.

When I saw Emily the next time, I told her about my meeting with Professor Bullin. She doted over my black eye. "I'm so sorry you got beaten up trying to protect me," she said.

"I'd do it again if it prevented you from being raped."

When John heard about Emily's attempted rape, and that I'd gotten beaten up trying to protect her, he called me to learn about my injuries. After I told him about my broken tooth, he said to find a dentist, have it repaired, and to send him the bill.

Emily had already told him about my failed meeting with professor Bullin. John thanked me for attempting to make the campus a safer place for women. By the time we finished our call, I had the idea that I could do no wrong in his eyes.

John said he'd advised Emily to find a local attorney and file an attempted rape charge against Jason Halbertsen. 

I made an appointment with a local dentist to have my broken tooth repaired. When I introduced myself to the dentist, he looked at my black eye and asked, "Did you get run over by a Mack truck?"

"No," I said. "I ran into the fist of a guy who was attempting to rape my girlfriend. I met with the provost to get some support from the administration to protect women on campus, but he wasn't interested."

The friendly dentist repaired my tooth so it was impossible to tell it had been broken. When I asked for the bill, he told me his daughter attended the university, and the repair was free because he agreed with my opinion. He thanked me for trying to reduce sexual harassment on the campus and sent me on my way.

Several days later, Emily said she'd visited an attorney and he advised her that since it was her word against Jason Halbertsen's, it would be difficult to win an attempted rape court case. He thought it would be more likely that his lawyer would get it reduced to a misdemeanor, and he'd get off.

* * *

Early December

Since the Thompson's had been so kind, I wanted to give them a nice gift. But with my shortage of funds, and their ability to purchase just about anything they wanted, I was stumped. Then it struck me; I'd build an original electronic gadget for them, but what?

I thought an electronic clock-calendar would be unique. A crystal-controlled microcontroller could count the seconds, calculate the minutes, hours, days, and months, then display the results on a digital display. Adding a thermal sensor could display the current temperature. If I could figure out how to connect it to the Internet, I'd be able to update the time and temperature automatically.

Since I missed Thanksgiving at home, Mom expected me to be home for Christmas with my family, and that was my current problem. I wanted to spend Christmas with Emily's nudist family. With Christmas falling on a Saturday, I checked the Internet for airline tickets. I found a cheap ticket to Denver on Sunday, Dec 26th. I could make mom happy by spending Christmas at home and leave the day after. I hadn't figured out how to explain why I was leaving on the 26th just yet, but I had a couple weeks to come up with an excuse.

The first thing Mom asked me after I arrived home for Christmas break was, "Michael, what happened to your eye?"

"A football player attempted to rape Emily," I answered. Then I filled her in on all the details, including my meeting with Professor Bullin.

"Why didn't you tell us?" she asked.

"It didn't seem that important at the time," I said.

"Well, I'm proud of you for protecting your girlfriend—you did the right thing. I hope she's okay."

"Yeah, Mom. She was shaken, but she seems to be fine now."

I had a little over a week until Christmas. It took me about three of those days to complete the design, etch the printed circuit board, and attach all the electronic components to the electronic clock I was building for John and Lisa. The software only required a few minor tweaks and the inside of the project was complete. Dad had some leftover walnut boards, so I used them to build a walnut case for the project. When I completed it, it looked impressive.

I told mom I was going skiing with a 'friend' the day after Christmas. Emily was a friend, so I wasn't lying, but I stretched the truth a bit. Mom said she wished I'd spend more time with family, but she acknowledged I was an adult now and deserved to do what I wanted during Christmas break.

Mom just requested, "Michael, you will call me every couple days to let me know you haven't broken your leg, won't you?"

Christmas finally arrived. Mom invited Uncle Bob, Aunt Valerie, and their four boys for Christmas because Aunt Valerie's broken ankle still hadn't completely healed and she couldn't cook. 

Mom prepared a delicious Christmas dinner, but looking back to Thanksgiving, it wasn't nearly as interesting as Thanksgiving with Emily's nudist family. I wished I was in Aspen with Emily. Of course, if Mom knew my girlfriend and her parents were nudists, she wouldn't have let me visit them ever again.




Lucky Beyond Belief Ch. 02



After Christmas dinner, Aunt Valerie bored everyone telling about the problems her broken ankle had caused. Before she finished, she got around to describing her pelvic pain and prolapsed uterus. Her boys wrestled and fought like Tasmanian devils. I couldn't wait until the next day.

* * * December 26th - A beginning of a week in Aspen

I flew into Denver on Sunday after Christmas and caught a ski shuttle to Aspen. I called ahead to contact the Thompson's so they would know when I was arriving. John asked me to give him another call when the shuttle left I-70 and to ask the shuttle driver to drop me off at The Red Onion restaurant.

It was my first time visiting Colorado; the scenery on the ride through the snow-covered mountains to Aspen was breathtaking. Most of the other people on the shuttle were skiers, most of whom were sleeping. They'd probably seen it all before, but I couldn't get enough of the raw, natural beauty of the mountains.

When I arrived in Aspen late in the day, the Thompson's were there to greet me. Emily launched herself into my arms, "Hi Mike, I've missed you." Then she smothered me with kisses while John and Lisa looked on. They both commented about about my fading black eye, which had nearly healed.

John placed my suitcase in his Jeep Cherokee rental, then we went inside the restaurant for dinner. Emily and I ordered buffalo burgers while John and Lisa selected a meal of less exotic trout.

When we arrived at the chalet, we entered and removed our clothing. Seeing Emily and Lisa naked gave me a boner again. As much as I tried, I couldn't get it to shrink. Emily thought it was funny that I had no control over it.

"You have a built-in towel rack," she giggled as I willed it to deflate. "Or maybe you could use it as a flagpole," she snickered. "You could hang a US flag from it and we could do it for Old Glory."

Emily decided to give me a tour of the chalet. As I followed her up the stairs, looking up at her cute exposed bottom and the treasure between her thighs, my throbbing cock had a mind of its own. 

When we reached the second floor, Emily stopped to show me the night-time view from a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the city and valley. As we stood next to one another enjoying the view, I placed my arm around her shoulder and gave her a kiss. She reached down and grabbed my cock, saying, "You've got too much sperm in there again." 

Emily led me by the hand to the upstairs bathroom, shutting the door behind us. She walked to the toilet and sat down, motioning me to come to her. She wrapped her hand around my cock's shaft, then delicately licked the head all around.

"I had to ask Mom how to give a blow job," Emily said. "Don't expect too much, because I've never given one before."

"Well, I've never received one, so I don't know what to expect."

"Then we'll just have to learn together, won't we?" Emily asked, as she smiled up at me.

Emily's warm, wet tongue on the bottom of my cock almost set me off. "Emily, I'm close already," I moaned.

She used her thumb and forefinger to squeeze just behind the head of my cock and gently pulled my scrotum down to reduce my urge to ejaculate. It took about thirty seconds for the urge to go away.

"Okay, Emily. I'm ready again," I said.

She took it too enthusiastically in her mouth and almost gagged. When she pulled it out, I noticed her eyes were wet.

"That was a little too much," she said. "Trust me, I'll get it right eventually."

"I appreciate that you're willing to try," I said.

Emily began again, this time wrapping her entire hand around my cock, taking only the first couple inches in her mouth. She bobbed her head for several times and I felt a boiling in my balls. "Emily, you'd better stop. I'm almost there."

She stopped and said, "Mom says, it's better to swallow," and went back to work.

As much as I tried holding back, I'd reached the point of no return. It felt like a dam had burst when the first shot went down Emily's throat.

"Mmpff," Emily choked, as I discharged a huge load.

Emily, bless her heart, swallowed it all. Her eyes were teary again, but she smiled up at me, "See, I told you I'd swallow."

I bent down and kissed her on the lips, "Emily, I love you. That was above and beyond the call of duty."

"Only for you," she said, smiling.

We didn't get around to touring the remainder of the chalet. Nearly all our time had been devoted to Emily giving me a blow job.

Later Sunday evening, we exchanged Christmas gifts in front of the fire in the fireplace. I gave John and Lisa the digital clock/calendar. They were surprised that I'd designed and built it myself.

I gave Emily a gold heart-shaped locket that was engraved with 'Love' on it. It opened with a photo of me on one side and a photo of Emily on the other. I had another gift for Emily that I'd planned to give her later when we were alone—a Rabbit vibrator.

Emily gave me a hand-tooled leather wallet with my initials embossed on it. It was to replace the worn and ratty wallet I'd carried in my back pocket for the past five years.

John and Lisa gave me a ski outfit, including ski goggles and gloves, so I'd only have to rent skis and boots while I was in Aspen. Savings from my pizza job, plus the $200 Christmas bonus my boss gave me would come in handy during this ski vacation.

I thanked them for the gifts, and we discussed the week ahead. Emily thought it would be a good idea for me to spend a day taking ski lessons before tackling downhill skiing. John and Lisa said they thought that was a superb idea.

After some small talk, we decided to go to bed. Emily and I showered together, brushed our teeth, and climbed into bed.

"I've missed you," Emily whispered.

"And I've missed you terribly," I said, as I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her to me.

We kissed each other deeply and I caressed her soft warm body everywhere I could reach. Emily purred like a kitten when I flipped her nipple with my tongue. She writhed, attempting to push it into my mouth.

Emily grabbed my cock, whispering, "Oh, Michael... Do that again."

I rolled her onto her back and flipped her other nipple running my tongue all around it, at the same time sliding a couple fingers into her slit. Her pussy was hot and wet. It was then when I recalled I had a gift for Emily which I hadn't given her.

I rolled away from Emily, sat up, and turned on the lamp on the nightstand. "Where are you going?" Emily asked.

"Just a second," I responded. "I have another Christmas gift for you."

Emily gave me a look of anticipation as I retrieved the Rabbit vibrator and a tube of lubricant from my suitcase. After I handed it to her, she looked at it curiously.

"I've heard of these, but I've never seen one."

"Well, now you have one of your very own. I was concerned I wasn't satisfying you sexually, and that made me feel like I was letting you down."

"Oh no, Michael. I love you, and I've never felt like you've let me down."

I pointed to the vibrator and asked, "Shall we give it a try? Can I use it on you?"

Emily rolled onto her back and spread her thighs. I sat next to her hip and squeezed a dollop of lubricant on the end of the shaft. Then I parted her labia and gently inserted the head into her vagina before I turned it on the lowest setting.

"Oh, that's nice," Emily said, closing her eyes, biting her lower lip.

I began moving the vibrator in and out slowly, increasing the Rabbit's speed gradually. Emily made a little moan every time I stopped and pushed the Rabbit back into her pussy. When the Rabbit was fully inserted, its ears straddled Emily's clitoris, which quickly became erect. Her clitoral glans pushed itself into view, pink and delicate. 

Longer strokes stimulated her pussy to a higher level. It wasn't long until she was panting for breath and squirming, reaching for her peak. I noticed a sheen of sweat on her body; her nipples were standing up like hard pink gumdrops and the aroma of her pussy's arousal filled the air. Her breathing sounded like a steam engine.

"Oooph," she exhaled with a rush, as the Rabbit took her over the top, her body quaking and her pussy muscles spasming. She rode out her first orgasm, lay limp for several seconds, then shuddered and shook through a couple more before she whimpered, "That's enough—turn it off."

Emily lay there, limp as a noodle, in the afterglow of her orgasms, trying to get her breath back. Finally she said, "Michael, those were some of the best orgasms I've ever had. Thank you for the Rabbit."

After Emily recovered, she said, "Michael, I owe you. Make love to me."

Of course I was happy to oblige her request. The doors of the closet in the bedroom had mirrored doors next to the bed. When the closet doors were closed, we could watch ourselves making love. It was erotic, almost like watching another couple fucking next to us.

She parted her thighs and welcomed me back into the hottest, wettest pussy on the planet that night. Unfortunately, I only made a few strokes inside her before I felt the familiar feeling I was about to ejaculate. I stopped and tried counting backwards from 100 by threes, but only made it to 85 before I filled her with my semen.

I was upset, but Emily just hugged me and said, "You'll last longer next time."

She grabbed a tissue and held it between her thighs as she headed toward the bathroom.

When she returned, we snuggled together, and it wasn't long until sleep overcame us.

* * * December 27th

The following morning we awoke with the sun shining into the bedroom and the smell of coffee in the air. Emily and I showered together and headed downstairs. John and Lisa were already in the kitchen having a cup of coffee.

Lisa asked, "What was that noise I heard last night?"

Emily, with an embarrassed smile, spilled her secret, "Mike gave me an after-Christmas gift. It's a Rabbit vibrator."

"Apparently it works very well, based on your glow," Lisa said.

Emily changed the subject, "I'm starved. What's for breakfast?"

Lisa responded to Emily, smiling, "Sex can make you very hungry." She sighed and added, "I remember my first vibrator..."

John answered Emily's question, "We're having pancakes—if your mother can get her mind off Randy."

"Who's Randy?" Emily asked.

"That's what she named her vibrator," John chuckled. "When I wasn't with her and she was feeling randy, she used 'Randy' to satisfy her needs."

Lisa went back to making pancakes in the kitchen while Emily and I talked about skiing.

"There are several places where you can take lessons," Emily said. "It would give you an opportunity to learn the basics."

"Fine by me," I said.

"Where are you and Mom going today?" Emily asked her father.

"I think we'll ski Buttermilk today. We skied there last year and your mother liked it." 

After breakfast, we dressed in our ski gear and headed out. John dropped Emily and me off at a ski rental, then headed for Buttermilk. I rented a pair of ski boots, poles, and skis. Emily and I caught a shuttle bus to the slopes. 

The ski instructor introduced himself as Eberhard. He said he was from Austria and had skied since he was a child. Emily asked Eberhard if he minded her staying while he taught ski students. He said it didn't bother him, so Emily looked on as he taught another beginning skier and myself the basics. Eberhard took it slow and demonstrated the snowplow, turns, and so on, then he asked us to perform the same maneuvers. He was able to give each of us individual attention since there were only two of us. It didn't take too long to get the hang of it, but it would be a long time until I'd be a good skier.

I watched as some other skiers effortlessly glided down the mountain and wished I could ski as well as them. Eberhard turned us loose on a bunny slope, critiquing our skiing skills. Emily stuck with me, awkward as I was, falling into the snow, giving me pointers and advice along with Eberhard. I think Eberhard took a liking to Emily from the way he kept eying her.

After about four hours of ski instruction, Eberhard said our instruction for the day was over. He mentioned it would be a good time to quit before we became tired and hurt ourselves. Emily and I were hungry enough to head back to the chalet anyway.

"You did okay—for a beginner. And you only fell down a few times," Emily laughed.

"Thanks, I think."

When we arrived at the chalet, Emily brushed the snow off me. "Good grief, I don't know how you could get snow in so many different places," she said, as she wiped her glove in my crotch.

"Don't mess with the frosted balls," I joked. "They might shatter."

"Not if I can help it. They're mine now, and I want to keep them warm and protected," Emily teased.

We went inside and took off all our ski gear. When we were naked, Emily lifted her arm and sniffed her armpit, "I think I'd better shower."

"I'll join you," I said.

"You just want me to warm up that thing between your legs," she joked.

"I hadn't thought of that, but it's a good idea," I responded.

"Okay, but I want it a lot longer than it is now."

I looked down and saw that the cold had wilted my cock to about a quarter of its erect length.

Emily and I took a hot shower and went downstairs for lunch. Over lunch we discussed whether to go back to the slope or quit for the day. 

"I think I'd rather stay in," I said.

"Michael, um... Do you think you could do that thing with the Rabbit like you did last night?" Emily asked.

"Oh sure. That's way more fun than skiing anyway."

After lunch, Emily went upstairs and I rocked her world with the Rabbit again. This time she said I hit her G-spot and I thought she was going to lift off the bed as her first orgasm hit her.

"Oh... Wow! That was awesome," Emily said, as she was coming down from her orgasms.

We spent the next couple of hours having sex. I still had my premature ejaculation problem which irritated me to no end. Emily was forgiving and told me not to worry about it. She said that I seemed to be lasting longer every time we did it, and she was happy with that.

John and Lisa came home from Buttermilk, tired, but happy. They said they enjoyed their day on the slopes. John took us out for dinner at one of Aspen's many restaurants.

That evening I used the Rabbit again to bring Emily to several more exhilarating orgasms before I made love to her, watching ourselves having sex in the closet mirrors. I could tell I lasted a little longer, but not half as long as I wanted. Snuggling naked with Emily under the covers made it worthwhile. We were madly in love.

* * * December 28th

I awoke early and had to empty my bladder, so I slipped out of bed and went to the bathroom to relieve myself. When I returned to bed, Emily was still asleep. She was so beautiful lying there that I couldn't keep my hands off her. I slipped under the covers and parted her thighs, then gave her a lick from the bottom of her pussy to the top.

"Wha... Ohh..." she muttered groggily. "Mike what are you doing?" she asked as she was waking up.

"I'm having breakfast in bed, and you're the main course."

I gave her pussy a couple more licks; she spread her thighs wider and grabbed my hair, pulling my head further into her crotch.

"Ohhh... Sooo good," she sighed.

It took a few minutes and many more licks until Emily shuddered through her orgasm.

"What a wonderful way to wake up," she panted.

Emily and I showered together and went downstairs. At breakfast, John and Lisa decided to ski Buttermilk again. Emily and I elected to join them. We caught the shuttle to Buttermilk. John and Lisa were headed to a blue intermediate slope. Emily said she'd accompany me on a green beginner's run. We agreed to meet John and Lisa at 1 PM for lunch.

The sky was blue and some powder snow on the slopes overnight made skiing conditions perfect. Emily and I made several runs down a couple green runs and each time I felt more confident about my skiing skills.

We met John and Lisa for lunch, then hit the slopes again in the afternoon. The sun went behind the mountain, dropping the temperature like a stone. Emily and I were near the bottom, near the lift, so we decided there was enough time for one more run.

The number of people on the runs had dwindled since it was late in the day, so the line to get on the lift was short. Coming down the run, I put my weight a little too hard on one ski during a turn and wiped out getting snow inside my ski outfit. Emily was behind me, so she stopped. Luckily, I hadn't bruised anything other than my ego.

We met John and Lisa, headed back to the chalet to shower and change into clothing to visit a restaurant.

That evening John and I had a continuation of our discussion about automating the equipment in his chemical plant. He told me he'd hired a consultant to determine what would be needed and how much it would cost. The consultant estimated it would cost about $2 million.

John said, "His estimate seems fairly high to me, what do you think it would cost?"

"Two million dollars is a lot more than I'd expect. If I can borrow your laptop, I can give you my estimate," I responded.

I asked John how many valves he thought there were in his plant. He thought for awhile and said, more than 100 and less than 200.

"Okay," I said, "Let's go with 150 electronic valves."

I followed up with, "How many need to be metered?"

"About 50," John answered.

"So let's estimate 50 metered lines."

I went on the Internet and found several companies which sold electronically-controlled valves and flow meters. With John sitting beside me, I asked if the valve or flow meter would fit his needs. If it did, I added information about it in a spreadsheet. When I finished, the spreadsheet total was about $140,000.

John's factory also needed controllers and computers to automate the processes, and software to control it all. I guessed at $50,000 for the hardware and $150,000 for software. I threw in another $60,000 to cover unforeseen problems. My estimate totaled $400,000—about 20 percent of the consultant's estimate.

When John saw the results on the spreadsheet, he was amazed. "Using your numbers, I could install two systems, so one could back up the other," he said.

"Or, you could purchase a third computer to monitor the two systems, and if the results are more than a fraction of a percent different, it could shut down the system," I answered.

I continued, "Before you spend a lot of money on equipment, I suggest you purchase a few electronic valves and metering equipment from two or three different companies, then really put them through their paces. Let the companies know you plan to automate your plant and their equipment is in a competition from which you'll select a winner. They might even send out a sales engineer to discuss what you want to do."

"Mike, I like your ideas. Would you be willing to come to work for me next summer as a paid intern? I'd like for you to begin designing an automated system to replace our current manual system. You can stay with us over the summer, so you won't have to spend any money on room and board."

It was the first time I'd been given such a lucrative job offer, and if my plan worked, I'd be riding high. In the back of my mind I was thinking, 'A dream job, free room and board, and nearly three months sleeping with Emily. I'd be crazy to turn down a job like that. I'd say yes, even if I received no pay.'

"Sure," I answered, as I stuck out my hand. "I'll be happy to help you automate your plant."

We shook hands, and simple as that, I had a summer job."

I thought to myself, 'How lucky can one guy get?'

Fatigue from skiing all day had worn us out, so we turned in. Even though Emily and I were tired, we had enough energy left for one orgasm apiece before we fell asleep.




Lucky Beyond Belief Ch. 02



* * * December 29th

After two runs down a beginner's slope, Emily said she thought I could negotiate an intermediate run. I was proud of myself on the first and second run down the intermediate slope. It was a little steeper and longer than the beginner's slopes I'd gone down before.

The third time down, I hit a mogul, lost my balance, twisted, and caught the edge of my ski. The release didn't let go and I sprained my right ankle.

Emily was behind me and saw me go down. She tried helping me up, but I couldn't place much weight on it. Ski Patrol helped me to the bottom of the run.

John drove me to a doctor's office. After an x-ray showed no broken bones, the doctor wrapped my ankle with a compression wrap. With the wrap, I was able to put a little more weight on it, but he said I should stay off it for at least three days and it would heal faster. He recommended rest, continued use of the compression wrap, an ice pack about 20 minutes every hour, and to elevate my ankle. He said a pain reliever might also help. 

My ankle sprain was going to shut down my skiing for a few days. 

Back at the chalet, I decided I'd better call Mom since she asked me to keep her informed.

"Hi Mom," I said, as cheerily as I could when she answered.

"Are you skiing?" Mom asked.

"Not now. I've got my foot propped up and have a wrap on it because I sprained my ankle."

She responded, "I knew it. You've never been on skis before. I'm surprised you haven't broken your fool neck. You were always taking crazy chances while your brother was the safe one."

"It'll heal up in a couple days," I said. "The doc x-rayed it and told me I don't have any broken bones."

"How about your friend? Has he broken anything?" Mom asked.

"No, she's fine," I answered. Oops, I said, 'she.' Mom was going to jump on that with both feet.

"She...?"

"Yeah Mom, I'm out here in Colorado with Emily's parents. They invited me to stay with them for a week of skiing in Aspen," I said.

There was a long pause on Mom's end—too long. "Michael Allen, you're not sleeping in one of those—what do they call them—hostels, where everyone sleeps in the same room are you?"

"Oh no, Mom. We have our own rooms." I didn't dare tell Mom that Emily and I were sleeping together.

"I figured the way you were so eager to leave here the day after Christmas, there must be something on your mind besides skiing," Mom replied.

She continued, "Emily is a very pretty girl. I took the picture you sent of her to Walgreen's and had it printed. I placed it on the mantle next to your picture."

"Thanks, Mom."

Mom astonished me with her next question, "Michael, you do have condoms, don't you?"

It was a trick question. If I said, 'yes,' she'd know I was having sex, and if I said, 'no,' she'd assume I was having sex, but not safe sex.

I decided to come clean. "Mom, she's on the pill."

Another long pause on Mom's end, "Michael Allen, I'd feel better if you'd just keep it in your pants. If she gets pregnant, don't come looking to your father and me for a handout. We're barely able to pay the mortgage and your tuition as it is now."

Mom and I talked for another ten minutes or so.

"Gotta go, Mom. My phone battery is dying," I said.

When we hung up, I knew there was going to be no end of motherly advice when I returned home. My ears burned for the next half hour. Mom always knew, figuratively, where to insert the knife to cause the most pain.

That evening Emily unwrapped my ankle so we could shower together, and after we'd dried off, she re-wrapped it. I may have injured my ankle, but I wasn't going to let it slow down my love life.

I ate Emily's pussy. I enjoyed seeing her fidget and writhe as I pleasured her pussy. I loved the odor of her aroused pussy, seeing how lubricated it became as she was more and more aroused. Then as I sucked on her clitty and inserted a couple fingers in her hot pussy, her orgasm overwhelmed her. 

She reciprocated by giving me a fantastic blow job. Emily fondled my balls and ran her tongue around and around the head of my cock, making it stiffer and stiffer. When she began bobbing her head, running her tongue under the sensitive arrow under it, it was impossible to hold my ejaculation back. As my first pulse exited, Emily squeezed my scrotum, giving me an extra shot of pleasure.

We decided to call it a night and cuddled together, with my hand on Emily's breast and my cock between her thighs. We fell asleep that way. 

* * * December 30th

I was awakened by Emily riding my cock like a cowgirl. "You had morning wood, and I couldn't let it go to waste, could I?" she asked.

"And now I'm being taken advantage of by a wanton woman," I teased.

"You're loving every second of it," she laughed.

After we finished, we showered together and headed downstairs.

Since I was laid up with a sprain, I wasn't going to be skiing that day. At breakfast, John and Lisa were discussing where to ski. Emily said she didn't feel like skiing and leaving me at the chalet alone, so she volunteered to spend the day with me instead of hitting the slopes with her parents.

John and Lisa left the chalet about 9 AM and said they'd be back sometime between 3 and 4 PM. That left plenty of time for Emily and me to be completely alone and have sex.

I limped to the sofa and sat down. Emily joined me and we made out for quite awhile until Emily suggested we go upstairs to the bedroom. We spent several hours in bed. I ate her pussy once, used the Rabbit on her once, she gave me a blow job, and we had hot sex watching ourselves in the mirrors.

John and Lisa arrived back at the chalet in the late afternoon, tired from a full day of skiing. They both showered and claimed they were starving, so we went to a restaurant for dinner.

About an hour after returning to the chalet, Emily and I saw her parents had fallen asleep together on the sofa in front of the fireplace. Emily went upstairs and brought back a blanket, covering them before we went upstairs.

That night, after giving Emily a couple monster orgasms with the Rabbit, I made love to her. I was lasting longer every time we had sex, but I wanted to last longer than the average male, which Emily said was about three minutes. I wanted to last long enough to bring Emily to an orgasm by intercourse only, without the aid of the Rabbit. After our all-day sex frolic, we were so tired, we fell asleep in each other's arms.

* * * December 31st

When I awoke, Emily was gently stroking my morning wood. "I think he likes me," she whispered.

"Of course he likes you," I answered.

"What do you call him?" 

"I don't know—I've never thought about giving him a name."

She giggled, "I think I'm going to name him, 'One Eye,' okay?"

"Sure. What do you call yours?" I asked.

"I've always called her 'Kitty' for some unknown reason."

"How about we acquaint Kitty with One Eye?"

"I thought you'd never ask," she sighed, as she spread her thighs and I introduced One Eye deeply into Kitty.

At breakfast, Lisa complained of a migraine headache. She said she'd taken a couple migraine pills, but they took at least two or three hours to take effect. Since I'd twisted my ankle, that left John and Emily to decide what to do for the day.

Emily asked, "Dad, remember the black diamond run we went down last time we were here? That was fun."

John responded, "Is that what you want to do?"

"Yes. Mom has a headache, and Mike can't go. Let's do it, okay?"

John didn't appear much excited about the idea, but he gave in to Emily's request. "Oh, all right, Emily. You're going to be the death of me yet."

John and Emily grabbed their ski gear, dressed, and headed for the slopes. Lisa went back to bed with her migraine. That left me alone, so I flipped on the TV and watched some mindless TV programs for a couple hours.

About noon, Lisa came downstairs nude and saw me watching TV. "Are you bored?" she asked.

"Yeah, a little. But if I had gone skiing on a black diamond with John and Emily, I'd have broken my neck for sure," I said.

Lisa chuckled, "Me too. I stay on the beginner and intermediate slopes. Would you like some lunch?"

"Sure," I said. "Maybe just a sandwich. I'll help you."

I hobbled to the kitchen behind Lisa. She went to the refrigerator and bent over to get lettuce out of the bottom vegetable drawer. The way she bent over caused her puffy labia to part, exposing her pink inner lips. That sight caused me to have an instant erection. 

She stood up and placed a package of ham slices and a head of lettuce on the counter. I reached up to pull a loaf of bread out of the cupboard when Lisa looked down and noticed my erection.

"Oh my—looks like someone is excited again," Lisa chuckled.

"I'm sorry. It's embarrassing—I wish I could get it to go down."

Lisa patted my shoulder, "You're just a normal male, Michael. You're not the first, nor will you be the last who gets an erection looking at a female body."

"Yes, but you're Emily's mother. I shouldn't have nasty thoughts about you."

"Actually, it makes me feel young and desirable again," Lisa laughed. "You know in a few years I'll be forty? With sagging boobs, stomach fat, and cellulite, I don't feel as sexy as I used to."

I glanced down at Lisa's boobs, "They don't sag."

"When I nursed Emily they used to stand proud off my chest. Now they're a lot flatter and when I lie down they're flat as pancakes."

She took my hand and placed my palm over her nipple. "Feel the difference between mine and Emily's?" she asked. "Mine have lost their tone, while Emily's are firm."

"But they're still very nice," I said, leaving my hand in place a lot longer than I should have.

She smiled, "Thank you Michael, but I have an idea you're happy to see any exposed breasts."

Lisa placed our sandwiches on plates and added some potato chips. I grabbed a couple soft drinks and limped back to the table. We sat on our towels and began eating.

Lisa began another conversation, "Michael, I haven't thanked you for what you've done for Emily. Last fall when we sent her off to college, we were worried about her depression. Luckily, the two of you found each other. We've never seen Emily so happy. Then you rescued her from her attacker at college. I don't know how to thank you enough."

I suspected that my keeping Emily from being raped had endeared me to her parents. Now I was sure of it. 

"A thank you isn't necessary. I'm happy to have found Emily. I love her." 

"It's obvious that you do by the way you treat her. As her mother, I'm pleased that she's found someone who respects her for the woman she is."

"My mother taught me to be polite and to respect women," I said.

We finished our sandwiches and returned to the kitchen to dispose of our scraps and soda cans.

Lisa smiled at me with a twinkle in her eye, "By the way, I heard you pleasuring Emily with the vibrator last night."

"I'm sorry we kept you awake."

"I enjoyed listening to you two making love. It brought back memories of when John and I were your age." She sighed, "We'd have sex half the night before we fell asleep, exhausted. While I was listening to you last night, I had to masturbate."

The image of Lisa lying in bed masturbating caused my cock to begin rising again.

"John would make love to me several times a night in those days, but now he spends most of his time at the plant, and he comes home tired. When we do it now, it's usually 'one and done,' and then he's snoring."

I didn't know how to reply to Lisa's comment. Should I say, 'I'm sorry?' or 'That's too bad?'

Before I had a chance to respond, Lisa asked, "By the way, has Emily helped with your premature ejaculation problem?"

"Yes," I replied. "She says I'm lasting longer now, but it's still there."

Lisa wrapped her arms around me, giving me a hug. As she pressed her warm boobs into me, she said, "I'm sorry, Mike. John had the same problem for a few months after we began having sex."

I could feel my boner poking into Lisa's tummy. I tried pulling away, but she had me pinned against the counter.

"Would you like for me to take care of it for you?" she asked.

"I don't think so. What about John?"

"Oh, don't worry about him. We have an open marriage and we've been swingers for several years. He gets a little pussy on the side when he's on business trips."

"Well, what about Emily?" I asked.

"I'm sure she'll understand. She's aware of our swinging ways."

Lisa grabbed my cock, and her warm hand felt so good.

"Maybe we shouldn't be doing this," I said.

"No one but us need know."

At that moment the front door opened, "Hi Mom. Hi Mike," Emily shouted. "We're back."

Lisa let go of my cock and stepped to the sink. John and Emily took a couple minutes removing their ski gear which gave my cock enough time to ebb.

"How was your day on the slope?" Lisa called down to the landing where John and Lisa were.

John said, "It started snowing and then the wind picked up, so it was hard to see. We decided to call it a day."

Emily came up the stairs from the landing. "How about some hot chocolate?" she asked, shivering.

John was right behind Emily. "Make me some, too," he asked.

"I'll make some for everyone," Lisa responded.

Emily hugged me. Her normally warm body was like ice since she'd been outside for the past several hours. She pressed her body against mine trying to gather some warmth.

"Maybe you'd warm up faster with a hot shower," I suggested.

"Good idea," she said, as she turned and headed upstairs.

While Lisa made hot chocolate and Emily was in the shower, John got out a deck of cards and suggested we play gin rummy.

We played cards the remainder of the afternoon while the snow came down. When evening arrived, we braved the snow and went out to dine at a restaurant.

It was New Year's Eve, and the restaurant offered a free magnum of champagne to a party of four with their meal. We ate a fine dinner and toasted the end of the old year and the beginning of the new one.

Back at the chalet, we stayed up until midnight to welcome in 2005. Shortly after midnight Emily suggested we go to bed. Even though I had a sprained ankle, it didn't keep me from making love to her. 

While we were winding down afterward, I said, "I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but your mother came on to me this afternoon and offered to have sex. I turned her down, but I wanted you to know."

"Yeah, I know she's felt sexually frustrated because Dad hasn't satisfied her in bed like he used to."

"Oh...?"

"Mom talked Dad into becoming a swinger. I think it was because she was looking for more satisfaction than she was getting at home."

"What do you want me to do if she offers again?"

Emily surprised me, "Go ahead, but if it's anyone besides Mom, I'll scratch your eyes out."

* * * January 1st

Since we stayed up until midnight and had sex, Emily and I slept in until nearly 10 AM. The smell of coffee woke us again. We came downstairs wishing John and Lisa, 'Happy New Year.'

Lisa made bacon and eggs for breakfast. While we were eating, Emily argued that because she and John's black diamond adventure had been cut short by bad weather earlier in the week, she asked John if he'd go with her again. Lisa said no way she was going to attempt a black diamond run, and with my sprain, I wasn't able to accompany them.

John and Emily left just after noon, leaving Lisa and I alone at the chalet. 

I sat on the sofa flipping TV channels searching for our team's bowl game. Lisa walked to the sofa and sat down beside me.

"Bored again?" she asked.

"No," I answered. "I'm tuning in our university's game."

Lisa scooted closer to me and I could feel the heat of her thigh in contact with mine. Her naked body fanned the flames, causing my cock to stir.

I finally found the bowl game; the announcer and his sidekick were discussing each team's strengths and weaknesses. Someone handed the announcer a sheet of paper from off-camera; he glanced down at it and said, "Here's an interesting item that will affect University's game today. The Orlando police have arrested University's third-leading scorer, fullback Jason Halbertsen, for attempted rape. That's really going to impact their hopes for a win today."

I pointed to the TV screen, "Lisa, that's the guy who attempted to rape Emily."

"Yes, I heard. Serves him right." she growled.

We watched more of the pre-game, and I wondered how our chances of winning had changed.

Lisa changed the subject, "I listened to you making love to Emily again last night. That made me horny, but John was sound asleep. Then I heard Emily asking you to give it to her harder."

She sighed, "It's been a long time since John hammered me that way. I think he's lost interest in me."

I felt Lisa's warm hand on my thigh.

"Maybe some Viagra would help," I suggested.

"Perhaps," she replied. "The male libido is strange—when a man is young, all he can think about is sex, and then when his mate is in her sexual prime, he can barely keep it up long enough to finish just once."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said.

"Perhaps a young stud like you could help an old lady in need—kind of like a Boy Scout holds a door open for her."

"You're far from being an old lady."

Lisa's hand was now wrapped around my cock. It felt great, and it was rapidly expanding.

"But I'm in need. Would you help an older woman across the street?"

"I'm afraid we'd both freeze our asses off if I helped you across the street right now, and we'd be arrested for indecent exposure," I laughed.

Lisa laughed, too. She was lightly stroking my cock and it was ramrod stiff.

"Well then, how about I let you ravish me and give me a thrill? Just once?"

It was difficult to resist her seductive powers. She was a fuckable MILF, claiming she was sex-starved, and I was drawn to her.

She stood up and grabbed my hand, "Please come with me and pound me like you did Emily last night."

As Lisa led me toward the stairs, I completely lost interest in the bowl game. 

"Have you and Emily tried doggy yet?"

"No, not yet." 

"Well then, let me enhance your education," she said, with a tempting smile.

At the top of the stairs, she stopped in front of the bedroom Emily and I shared. "Let's use your bedroom, ours doesn't have mirrors next to the bed."

Lisa walked to the bed, placed her towel on it, and sat down. She rolled onto her back and spread her thighs. "Please use the Rabbit on me and give me several orgasms."

I reached into the nightstand drawer and retrieved the Rabbit and tube of lubricant. It appeared her labia were puffier than they'd been when she was downstairs. Instead of using the Rabbit, I gave her pussy a lick from bottom to top with my tongue. The odor of her aroused pussy hung in the air. The sight of her pink pussy caused my cock to stiffen as hard as an oak board.

"Oh, you dear man," Lisa moaned. "Do that again, please."

I parted her labia and made several swipes of my tongue in her slit. Her taste was different from Emily's, but it wasn't disagreeable. 

Lisa's inner labia were larger than Emily's, pinker, and wetter. I tightened my lips around her left inner labia and tugged on it, then on her right. She shivered and moaned. I was surprised at how much lubrication she produced. It leaked out of her pussy and across her butt hole onto the towel under her.

I began concentrating my attention to her clitty. I'd read somewhere one pussy-eating technique is to write the alphabet using your tongue around their clit, so I did that. I reached the letter, 'S', when Lisa cried out, "Oh fuck... I'm cumming!" 

At that point, I sat up next to Lisa and inserted the Rabbit in her pussy. She was panting like a dog on a hot summer day. Turning on the rotating pleasure pearls caused her to shiver. As I cranked up the Rabbit's speed and straddled its ears around her clit, she began writhing and squirming, making animalistic noises as she had several more orgasms. I was amazed at how much more stimulation she could take than Emily. Her body wiggled and twitched every time another orgasm hit her. I don't know how many she had, but when she pushed the Rabbit away, her body was covered with perspiration. 




Lucky Beyond Belief Ch. 02



Lisa lay on the bed with a smile on her face, shuddering every few seconds, coming down from her orgasmic high.

"Michael, I haven't had that many orgasms so close together in a long time. Get ready for your sexual education."

Lisa got up on the bed on her hands and knees facing away from me, with her ankles off the bed. I noticed she had a prominent seam which looked like welting around the edge of a decorative pillow between her pink rosebud and the back of her pussy. She reached back, pulled her labia apart, and said, "Now place the head of your cock at my opening."

I followed her instruction and she pushed back, enveloping my stiff cock with her steamy hot pussy. The mirrored closet doors were closed, giving us a great view of ourselves fucking.

After a few slow thrusts, I said, "Lisa, I'm close."

She dropped her shoulders down on the bed and reached between her thighs, grabbing my scrotum, tugging it downward—harder than Emily had. My urge to ejaculate dropped from 'almost there' to 'not even close.'

Lisa asked, "Did that work?"

"Yes, it did."

Lisa was back up on all fours again. "Push all the way in and stop," she requested. "I can feel your cock against my G-spot in this position. It's a sure way to give Emily a G-spot orgasm."

I felt Lisa clenching her vaginal muscles on my cock. "You feel that?" she asked.

"Oh yeah, it feels great."

"Those are Kegel exercises. Get Emily do those for you when you have sex."

Lisa and I began an enthusiastic rhythm again. Lisa smiled at me in the mirror as we both watched me burying and withdrawing my cock from her pussy. Her heavy boobs were swinging in unison with each of my thrusts. It wasn't long until I felt the familiar urge to empty my balls into her.

"I'm close again," I puffed.

She reached between her thighs and tugged my scrotum down again, but this time her tug was more forceful than the first time.

"Let me know when you're ready," Lisa asked.

About thirty seconds later, I said, "Okay."

Whatever Lisa did, almost eliminated my need to ejaculate. When I began thrusting again, I was hard, but without the sensitivity I'd had before. 

What had been vigorous sex for us became industrial-strength fucking. I grabbed her by the hips and pulled her forcefully into me. The sound of flesh slapping flesh filled the air as I pumped into her. Her butt cheeks rippled every time my hips hit them. We were hyperventilating, sweating, attempting to bring each other to orgasm. Lisa really knew how to use her pussy.

She cried out, "Harder, Mike. Give me all you've got," as I pounded my cock into her like a jackhammer.

Every time I bottomed out, Lisa forcefully exhaled with an, "Uhh..."

I had to stop a couple times to catch my breath. Once when we'd stopped, Lisa said, "Sweet Jesus, you've hit my deep spot, Mike." When we began again, I was as hard as ever and Lisa was moaning, "More..."

Lisa reached her orgasm first. She squealed like a schoolgirl, and I felt her pussy spasming and clamping on my cock. Her orgasm brought mine on—it felt as if I pumped a quart of sperm into her.

Lisa slumped forward on the bed and I followed her like two mating dogs locked together. As she came to rest, my cock rested between her butt cheeks, its head acting as a plug keeping sperm inside her pussy. We lay like that for a couple minutes. Lisa exclaimed, "Oh my god. I haven't had sex like that in years."

Even though I wished I could keep my cock nestled where it was, it began deflating. I could feel some seepage.

She finally said, "Mike, you'll have to get off, I'm leaking sperm."

Lisa raised her head looking for a tissue, but the box was on the night stand on the other side of the bed and neither of us could reach it. We disconnected and Lisa stood up, cupping her hand under her pussy as she waddled to the bathroom, sperm running down her thigh.

I grabbed a tissue and walked behind her to the bathroom with the tissue wrapped around my cock to soak up our fluids. She sat on the toilet and spread her legs. "Mike look at this," she said, as she squeezed strings of sperm out of her pussy. "My god, Mike—do you fill Emily up like this?"

"I suppose so. She hasn't complained, though."

"I wasn't complaining. I'm just surprised at the volume you produce. I don't think I've ever been so filled."

Lisa used a wad of toilet paper to absorb what was left.

"Mike, would you please hand me a warm wet washcloth?" she asked.

After I handed her the washcloth, I said, "I think we'd better shower. We both smell like sex."

Lisa joined me in the shower and we scrubbed ourselves spotless. With the shower turned off, Lisa pressed me against the wall with her boobs against my chest. She grabbed my cock, "What a lovely piece of meat. We ought to do that again," she remarked.

"Our sex was a one-time event, right?" I asked.

"Yes, like the old Lay's potato chip commercial," she answered.

I couldn't recall what she was referring to and gave her a quizzical look.

She winked at me and laughed, "Bet you can't eat just one."

We exited the shower and began drying ourselves. I dropped to my knees on the bath mat and her nipples were at my eye level. I pulled Lisa toward me, and flipped each of her nipples a few times. She pulled my face into her boob and I thought she'd let me lick and suck on it as long as I wanted.

What I really wanted to do was lap at her pussy. I bent down on all fours and slipped my tongue between her labia. She shifted with her feet about three feet apart, letting me circle her clit with my tongue.

"Oh what a joy you are to an old woman," she said in a breathy voice.

I was too busy with what I was doing to answer her. A couple more minutes and her legs were quivering and she was breathing hard again. As her orgasm hit, I felt most of her weight on my shoulders as she nearly collapsed on me.

When she recovered, she said, "You deserve a reward for your good deed today." Lisa grabbed my hand and led me to the bed. "Lie down, I'm going to give you the blow job of your life," she said.

Emily's blow jobs were what I considered excellent, but they didn't hold a candle to Lisa's. Of course, Lisa had almost twenty years more experience than Emily. Lisa's technique could have made Michelangelo's David marble statue ejaculate. I thought Lisa was going to turn my cock wrong-side out when I finally came.

* * *

John and Emily came back to the chalet around 5 PM. They'd had a great day on the black diamond runs, but they said being New Year's, there was a huge crowd of people. They had to wait in long lines for the ski lifts.

"Did you hear Jason Halbertsen was arrested and is in jail?" I asked them.

"You're kidding, aren't you?" Emily asked.

John was more vocal, "Serves the bastard right. No one attempts to rape my daughter and gets away with it."

While John showered, Emily sat on my lap. Her body was cold and I attempted to warm her up. She grabbed my cock and smiled, "It's just right for a hand warmer. Too bad you don't have two of them."

Since John and Emily were tired from skiing, John asked if I minded calling out for pizzas. "I like pizza, but not every day," I answered.

Lisa surprised the pizza delivery guy when she answered the door wrapped in a towel. I noticed most of her Monarch butterfly tattoo peeked over the top of the towel.

While we ate our pizzas, Emily described how much fun she'd had racing down the black diamond runs. "You'll be ready for those next year, Mike," she said.

I wished I was a better skier so I could join her.

We went to the living room after finishing our pizzas and sat in front of the fireplace. It didn't take long until John was asleep at one end of sofa and Emily was asleep on the other.

Lisa and I awoke our partners and led them to bed.

Upstairs in the bedroom Emily asked if we could dispense with sex—she was tired from skiing. I agreed—I was worn out from sex with Lisa.

* * * January 2nd

We all slept in because of the previous day's activities. 

Over breakfast, we talked about our day's activities. John and Lisa wanted to go skiing again. My ankle was still sore and I said I didn't think it was a good idea to ski on it yet. 

Emily was torn—she wanted to ski, but she didn't want to leave me by myself. She eventually chose to keep me company. 

John and Lisa went skiing while Emily took advantage of our last day together before I headed home. The Rabbit's batteries died, so I used my tongue and fingers on Emily's pussy to bring her to an orgasm.

After we'd satisfied each other sexually, I told Emily about Lisa asking to have sex with me, and that I'd succumbed to her request. Emily said she wasn't surprised, because Lisa had been frustrated with John's performance.

John and Lisa came back to the chalet late in the afternoon, and we went out to eat. John said since it was my last night with them, he ordered prime rib for all of us.

It was my last evening with Emily before leaving for home, and I wanted to make the most of it. When we were ready for intercourse, I asked her if she wanted to try doggy-style sex.

Emily said she wanted to try something different, so I had an opportunity to try out what Lisa had taught me two days before.

I got Emily into position and entered her from behind. I discovered she couldn't work her pussy as well as her mother did. I didn't complain, because any pussy is good, but on a one-to-ten scale, Emily was about a six, and Lisa was definitely a nine. 

Emily said I hit her G-spot and she had an orgasm, the first I'd triggered from intercourse alone and hers sparked mine. She said her G-spot orgasm was fantastic and suggested we do it again sometime soon.

We cleaned up and snuggled together under the covers, letting sleep envelop us.

* * * January 3rd

My flight back home was scheduled to leave Denver at 2 PM, so I had to catch the 9 AM shuttle to insure I made it to the airport on time. Emily and I had a 'quickie' before I showered and ate breakfast with the Thompson's. I thanked them for their hospitality and inviting me to ski with them.

John said they were happy I'd been able to join them. Lisa suggested that perhaps I'd be able to accompany them skiing again next year.

Upstairs, I laid out the clothes I was going to wear home. While I was packing the remainder of my clothing, Lisa walked in and said, "I have a personal good-bye to give you." 

She hugged me, pressing her boobs into me, working her pelvis against my rapidly inflating cock. 

Lisa whispered, "Thank you for helping an old woman cross the street." Then she winked and added, "Think about having a Lay's potato chip."

She held out her hand and placed a pair of wadded up Victoria Secret panties in mine. "I usually don't wear them," she said, "but I had to put them on to stem the leakage after we had sex. I hope you enjoy them."

Lisa left, and a few minutes later, Emily arrived to give me her personal good-bye. We kissed each other deeply, and I pulled her warm body against mine in a lover's embrace.

"I'm going to miss you," she whispered, with a tear in her eye.

"I'll miss you too, but the next semester begins on the 10th, so it's not like forever," I answered.

Emily sat on the bed while I finished packing my bag. "Thank you for making it an enjoyable week in Aspen," she said. 

"My pleasure," I answered.

"A special thank you for 'Randy.' I'll be using him when you're not around."

I looked at my watch and saw there wasn't much time before I had to catch the shuttle. I rapidly finished packing and dressing.

"I'll keep it warm for you while you're gone," Emily said, smiling.

I gave her one more hug and kiss, heading downstairs.

John shook my hand, Lisa gave me a hug, and Emily gave me another kiss.

"Thanks for an outstanding week in Aspen," I said, as I headed toward the front door.

"Bye Mike," they all said, as I walked out.

* * *

On the shuttle to Denver, a couple male skiers in the seat in front of me were talking about their ski trip. I overhear one say to the other, "Aspen is a good town to find women. I got laid by a hot co-ed."

The other one answered, "Me too."

I was thinking, 'Yeah, Aspen is a great town, all right, but I probably got ten times more pussy than they did.'

On the plane home, my mind recalled the past semester until the present. Yes, I'd been lucky—even having Jason Halbertsen knock me out had made me lucky in some respects. Then I considered how lucky I was in love—luckier than I'd have ever imagined. I fell asleep dreaming about Emily and Lisa's pussies.

* * *

Tune in again—same time, same station, in about a month to learn about Mike's summer job.



Lucky Beyond Belief Ch. 03



Thanks to my editor, Nymphwriter, and my loyal beta readers who found my errors, made corrections, comments, and suggestions to improve my story. Any errors you may find are mine alone.

* * *

If you haven't read 'Lucky Beyond Belief' Chapters 1 and 2 yet, I suggest you return to the beginning of the series. Otherwise you'll have missed some of the best parts of the story.

As you recall from Chapter 1, Emily's family are nudists, but Mike is new to nudism. He finds it impossible to control his boner as he spends Thanksgiving weekend around four nude women. Emily learns about the sexual activities of her hippie grandparents and discovers her mother and father are half-siblings. Her parents are extremely liberal, letting her sleep with Mike whenever she chooses. Mike has a problem with premature ejaculation when he and Emily have sex, but she overlooks it.

In Chapter 2, Mike prevents Emily from being raped and attempts to bring sexual harassment of women to university officials' attention, without success. Later, he joins the Thompson family in Aspen after Christmas for a week of skiing. The first few days Mike's enjoys skiing, but he sprains an ankle, preventing him from skiing the remainder of the week. Mike's mother learns by accident that he's having sex with Emily, and John offers Mike a paid summer internship at his chemical plant. While John and Emily are skiing, Lisa seduces Mike and demonstrates doggy-style sex with him. Chapter 2 ends with Mike on his way home, dreaming of Emily and Lisa's pussies. 

* * *

After returning from Aspen, Dad and my sixteen-year-old brother, Mark, wanted to hear all about my Colorado skiing vacation. However, Mom gave me the cold shoulder for the first couple days—she seemed like a pressure cooker just about ready to explode. 

When Mom and I were alone the third day after I arrived home, she let me have it with both barrels. I was berated for telling her I went skiing with 'a friend,' when actually my 'friend' was Emily. She rebuked me for having sex with Emily. Mom said there had been plenty of failures of 'the pill,' and that I shouldn't have had sex in the first place, but since I did, I should have used condoms.

"You're much like your father when he was at your age," she said. "He thought mostly with his sex organ back then."

"You're saying I think with my dick?"

"Yes—I always hoped you'd be different. I tried raising you to be a good boy." She sighed, "But I suppose it's just in your genes. I've never told you this before, but you were born with an erection."

She continued, "We aren't paying your college expenses so you can have a good time. You need to be more responsible."

"You're right, Mom. I shouldn't have done it," I responded. However, I was thinking, 'Given a chance, I'd do it all over again.'

When our conversation ended, something triggered in the back of my mind. Mom always said she was 19 when I was born, but the numbers didn't add up. Later, I asked Dad, "Was I a premature baby?"

"No," he said. "What concern do you have about that?"

"You celebrated your anniversary in December, and my birthday is in March. Based on your anniversary, Mom ought to be a year older."

Dad had a sheepish, embarrassed look, "Mike, your mother caught a lot of flak from her mother when she got pregnant, so she's pretty touchy talking about it. You see, she was about six months along when we were married."

"Thanks Dad, you just saved my life," I said.

Mom said Dad was thinking with his dick when he was my age, but apparently she didn't attempt to slow him down, because she got pregnant while they were dating just after high school. 

The next day, Mom was cutting me no slack about having sex with Emily. "What if you got her pregnant? How do you think you'd support her?"

I couldn't get a word in edgewise as she kept scolding, "Mike, do you realize I'm not even 40 years old? I'm too young to be a grandmother."

"I don't think..."

Mom cut me off. "You should have saved yourself for marriage," she said in a curt, motherly tone.

"Like you did?"

She squinted her eyes, giving me a look that could have burned through solid steel, "What do you mean by that, young man?"

"I only did what you and Dad did. If my math is right, you were pregnant with me when you were and Dad were married."

Mom turned back to the sink, peeling potatoes with a fury that I'd never seen before. It shut her up, though. The remainder of the time I was home during Christmas break, she didn't mention me having sex with Emily again.

Emily and I texted one another several times. We both expressed our love for one another and said we couldn't wait to be together again.

Before I left home for second semester, I told Dad, "I already have a summer job lined up in California."

"Why not get a job here at home?" Dad asked.

"The pay is $20 an hour, with room and board included," I answered.

"Your mother is going to be upset if you're on the other side of the country," Dad said.

"She'll just have to get over it, because it won't be long until I'll graduate and have a permanent job."

"Yeah, you're right," Dad admitted.

Mom was troubled when she found out I wouldn't be home for the summer, but I explained I'd been offered not only a good job, but it fit in with my electronics interests. I didn't tell her that my job would be working for Emily's father, and that I'd be staying with the Thompson's, but I knew she'd go on another rant if she knew that.

* * *

Back at university, things returned to normal—classes during the day, studying, working at the pizza carry-out, and spending time with Emily. Her roommate, Sharon, had finally found a boyfriend, so she wasn't in their shared dorm room as often as she had been during the first semester. That gave Emily and me a few opportunities to have quickie sex, which we did as often as we could, but not as frequently or as long as we'd have liked.

In late January, the local newspaper published an article about Jason Halbertsen's preliminary hearing for attempted rape in Florida. That caused several co-eds and a couple female graduates to come forward with stories that he'd fondled, groped, or raped them. They also said when they reported his attacks to the university police, they were pressured to change their stories by coach Joder and the university police chief. The local newspaper published a story about a possible sexual harassment cover-up on the campus.

Within a day or two of the local newspaper story, several large news organizations raced to publish the most sensational story. TV news trucks with satellite antennas showed up; TV reporters camped out on street corners, interviewing and recording anyone who had an interesting slant on the story. Investigative reporters sniffed out details, attempting to find the spiciest story.

The university president had no choice but to call for a complete investigation, if he intended to keep his job. 

An investigative reporter got Emily's name somehow. She was interviewed about her experience with Jason. She mentioned that she had tutored him in chemistry and he'd asked which dorm she lived in. Emily thought he'd stalked her for awhile, because when she stepped outside her dorm for just a few seconds to drop a bag of trash in the dumpster, he dragged her behind the bushes. She told the reporter that the only reason she hadn't been raped was because I'd pulled him off her, getting beaten up in the process.

The reporter then contacted me. I told him how Jason attacked me and then how I met with Professor Bullin attempting to get the administration to protect women. I said he didn't seem interested in pursuing the end of sexual harassment on campus. I also mentioned Jason Halbertsen was Professor Bullin's stepson. That sent the reporter and camera crew scurrying to the provost's office.

I heard later through the grapevine that when the reporter and camera crew showed up at Professor Bullin's office to interview him, there was no secretary to greet them. Noises coming from inside his office caused the reporter to open Dr Bullin's unlocked office door. The camera crew apparently got some interesting video of Dr Bullin with his trousers around his ankles having sex with his secretary bent over his desk.

Whether our university president knew about the provost's indiscretion or not, I don't know. However, the next evening, he was interviewed on CNN, and questioned about what he intended to do to reduce the amount of sexual harassment on campus.

Of course he said all the shopworn phrases officials at other universities had used over the years: 'We don't condone that sort of behavior—We'll dismiss anyone who's caught—Staff or students who engage in that type of behavior will be prosecuted—We're doing a complete investigation,' and so on.

Interestingly, Professor Bullin suddenly resigned his position the next day. The news crews then focused their attention on coach Joder. He claimed he'd never asked anyone to change their statement to the university police, but there were too many women who stated otherwise.

When the university president invited the state police to join the investigation, they found a number of rape kits which had never been forwarded to the state police lab as required by state law. When the results came back from the lab, Jason Halbertsen's DNA was on three of them.

Jason was extradited from Florida to face three rape charges. The gears of justice ground slowly, and it wasn't until around the middle of second semester when he was formally charged with raping three women.

During the same period, coach Joder and the university police chief were investigated, and the two were charged with making false statements and aiding and abetting a felony. Additionally, the police chief was charged with failure to comply with state law. 

The campus slowly returned to normal as the news reporters headed elsewhere for juicier stories after having a field day on our campus. After the investigation, most of the females on campus felt safer.

The semester rolled on. When I had free time, either I was searching the Internet for the best electronic valves and flow meters or having sex with Emily. By the time the semester ended, I'd gathered enough data about various products that I was sure I'd found the best. I'd averaged having sex once a week with Emily.

Emily and I finished our second semester with excellent grade point averages. Her help with chemistry got me a low 'A,' which surprised me. Now it was time to change gears and get ready for an interesting summer.

* * * Summer with the Thompson's

John sent the company jet to fly us from college to California on the Friday after our last exam. We arrived in California late in the afternoon. John picked us up at the airport and drove us back to the Thompson's home.

As Emily and I entered the house, nudist Lisa hugged me, kissed my cheek, and whispered, "Welcome back, Mike. I need a strong, young stud to help me cross the street." 

Emily, following behind me, asked, "Instead of sleeping in the guest bedroom, why don't you share my bedroom?" 

"Fine with me," I answered.

We removed our clothing and joined naked John and Lisa in the kitchen. They had planned a steak cookout for Emily and me as a celebration for completing our first year of college. It was a surprise as well as a superb meal. Later that evening we all skinny dipped in the pool and spent some time in the hot tub.

When it was time for bed, John and Lisa said they'd let us sleep late the next morning, since it was our first night alone together in a long time.

Emily and I shared a naughty shower—kissing, caressing, rubbing against each other, and touching each other's genitals. It was great to be naked with her again without worrying about her roommate walking in on us. In bed, I used 'Randy the vibrator' on Emily's pussy, bringing her to several pleasurable orgasms. Her moans of enjoyment, the odor of her aroused pussy, her look of contentment, then of sexual ecstasy as she climaxed, made me a happy guy, and hard as a rock.

Later we had sex. Because of final exams, it had been more than a week since we'd made love, so I didn't last very long. When I unloaded, I filled Emily's pussy to overflowing. The last couple strokes sounded like I was pulling a boot out of the mud. Emily hastily grabbed a tissue and thrust it between her legs, heading for the bidet. I followed her into the bathroom, because I was dripping cum, too.

"You completely filled me up," she said, laughing. "Maybe if we keep your balls emptied, you'll last a lot longer.

"I've done some research on the Internet about premature ejaculation. It seems that when a male's prostate is full of seminal fluid, he has difficulty holding back, so we're going to keep yours empty, okay?"

"It might work," I answered, thinking about how she planned to keep them empty. "I'm willing to be your guinea pig."

We went back to bed and had sex again. This time I lasted a lot longer, and I brought Emily to an orgasm. After we'd finished and cleaned up, we climbed into bed, sated from our sex. We both said, "I love you," and fell asleep in each other's arms.

Emily awoke before I did, and when she noticed my morning wood, she mounted me, waking me up. She rocked her pelvis, riding me hard until we both climaxed.

"I enjoy it when you do that," I said.

"If that's what it takes to keep 'One Eye' happy and your prostate empty, I'm your humble servant," she replied.

I looked at the clock and it was 10:30 AM. Emily and I showered together, dried off, and walked into the kitchen. We sat down on our towels at the kitchen table, famished.

John was already there, working on his laptop, drinking a cup coffee. Lisa was at the range, making brunch.

Lisa turned around and shook her finger at us. "It's about time you two got out of bed," she said with a faux-scold. "We heard you playing 'hide the sausage' and that gave me an idea for brunch. We're having sausage-in-a-blanket."

"Eww..." Emily said. "Mom, that was naughty. I think I'll just have milk and cereal."

"I enjoyed hearing you two making each other happy," Lisa said, smiling. 

Emily blushed, "I didn't think we were that loud."

"Believe me," Lisa replied. "We could have heard your moans from outside the house."

"Maybe if Mike stuffed a sock in your mouth, you'd be quieter," John added, grinning.

Emily put her elbows on the table and hid her face behind her hands. "Oh god, I'm so embarrassed."

Lisa commented, "Emily, you shouldn't. Be passionate about any activity you're engaged in. If it's sex with Mike, delight in it, and don't worry about making a little noise when you orgasm. You're a woman now and an orgasm is the most wonderful feeling you'll ever have. Don't hold it in."

"Mike, aren't you going to say anything?" Emily asked.

"Probably not what you expect. I like it when you let me know when you've reached your peak," I responded. "If you make a little noise, it doesn't bother me."

"Yes, but I don't want to wake up the entire house."

Lisa came to the table with eight crescent rolls wrapped around some Italian sausages. The rounded ends of the sausages sticking out of the rolls really did look like dark penises.

After we'd finished brunch, I asked John, "Isn't keeping a company jet expensive?"

He answered, "Actually, it's a money maker for me. You see, it's owned by a separate corporation that I set up."

John went on to tell me that he used the jet only about once a month on average. The remainder of the time, it was chartered by executives of other companies who didn't want to travel through commercial airports, or they wanted to land at airports not served by commercial airlines. It was frequently chartered by well-to-do people flying to Las Vegas or Reno. Sometimes, celebrities who didn't want to be mobbed in commercial airports chartered his plane. In the winter, it flew people to ski resorts in the western US.

With four pilots, who rotated their schedules, the jet was in the air mainly during the day, and several aircraft mechanics serviced the plane at night.

John added, "Yes, it's been a money maker for me, and being the CEO, I'm first in line to determine which days of the month I use it. In fact, it's been so profitable that I'm thinking of purchasing a second plane."

John definitely was an entrepreneur, looking for opportunities to make money wherever he could. No wonder he and Lisa could afford to live in such a luxurious home.

Early in the afternoon, Emily and I talked about what we'd wear for our summer jobs. Since we didn't bring many clothes with us, Emily suggested we go to town and shop for work clothing. She borrowed the Miata and we headed to town.

"What kind of clothes should I buy?" I asked.

"Most everyone wears casual work clothes," she said. "A couple pair of new jeans and several polo shirts would work."

We came home with a work wardrobe, ready to go to work.

The first day at work, Emily and I rode with John to the plant. He introduced me to the thirty or so employees there—they already knew Emily. John told everyone that he was training Emily to learn his job and I was there to help him begin automating the plant.

John's office was on the second floor, with a window overlooking the plant floor. Emily was given an office next to his. There wasn't another empty office on the second floor for me, so they gave me a small office on the first floor, next to the lab.

Since I was an hourly employee, I had to punch in and out on the time clock. Emily was considered a salaried employee, so she didn't have to punch in or out like me.

At lunch time, several of the older men at the plant asked if I'd like to join them for lunch. They took me to Wendy's for a burger and paid for my lunch. They said it was a tradition to take the new guy out to lunch on his first day of work. 

They also said I needed a nickname. Someone suggested they call me 'the kid with two first names.' That's what they called me the remainder of the summer. A couple of them quizzed me on the purpose of my job. I told them that John had hired me to replace the manual system with a new system using electronic valves, flow meters, and computers to monitor and control them.

Soon, word circulated around the plant that when the plant was automated, a number of people would be out of a job. For the next few days, many employees were stand-offish. When I mentioned it to John, he said, "Neither they nor you know what my plans are."

Back at the plant, John passed word to everyone that we were shutting down early at 4:00 PM on Friday for an impromptu company picnic. He ordered pizzas, chips, soft drinks, and a mini-keg of beer. Promptly at four on Friday, a catering van arrived, and we all went behind the plant to picnic tables under the shade of several large trees. 

When everyone was assembled, John made a speech stating the reason he planned on automating the plant was to improve profitability. Everyone would still have a job, he said, even if automation took place. He added that he planned on removing one wall of the current building, then expanding it to twice its size. He said instead of laying anyone off, it was likely he'd need to hire more employees. That curbed the concerns of many employees who felt their jobs were going to be pulled out from under them.

Back at the Thompson's home, John told Emily, Lisa, and me his business had been so successful, that he'd made an offer for a competitor's plant in Houston, Texas, and it was under consideration. He said his company had been getting many orders from Europe, Brazil, and South Africa. Houston was an ideal location to ship products from. So, besides the California and Atlanta plants, there would be a Houston plant, if he could purchase it.

* * *