Cabana Boy

byBlue.Eyes©

She felt the transition from bumpy runway to smooth air as the nearly empty plane lifted off and headed for home. She looked out the window at the puffy white clouds bathed in the orange and pink light of the fading sun.

"Home," she thought, "that's funny. I always thought THIS was my home."

It had been...when she was growing up. But she had left many years ago after graduating from high school to find her own path in life. She hadn't been back in town since then, until now. She wasn't sure she wanted to attend the reunion, or come back to town. There were good memories, sure, but bad ones as well. Her schoolmates at the reunion would be the same ones that had picked on her because she was always the tall, lanky, curly-haired girl that stood out and didn't really fit in. She was pretty, but guys didn't ask her out because she was so tall and didn't have big boobs like the perky cheerleaders. That's OK. Those boys just never got to find out how sensitive the nipples on her small boobies were! She had thought about implants over the years, but after seeing the problems her friends had with them, and the loss of sensitivity, she was happy with what she had. She never really felt like she fit in with the crowd at school. She was never one of the "popular" kids, but now, going back, she realized that she just bloomed later than most, and that high school was not the best time of her life. That's one reason she wanted to go back to this reunion, to show all those snobby people that she WAS somebody! "How do you like me now?" she remembered thinking as she went to the hotel for the reunion.

Before the reunion, she had been driving around to all the places she knew as a kid. It was all changed now. The neighborhood was grown over, the old house had been remodeled by the new owners, her old schools had new students in them, the places she used to play and hang out were all built over. The house where her first boyfriend, from 1st grade, lived was still there. She wondered what ever happened to him.

She saw the bridge over the creek where she had kissed the first boyfriend she was "going steady with" in the 8th grade. Giving in to adolescent curiosity, she had even let her touch her boobs. And then the stupid bastard went and told all his friends, like he was some fucking STUD, that they had "done it" and so she was now EASY! "What a fuckin loser!"

She put the red rose she carried on the seat beside her, settled back into her seat and looked out toward the twilight skies as she tried to remember what she had been thinking about. Oh yes, growing up...and SEX! Oh God! How could she forget about SEX!

She thought about all the things that had changed as she drove around town yesterday, and how, in many ways, some things were still the same. At the reunion, the people were the same cliques that hung out together in school. There were the snobs and status seekers, the "out-back" gang of smokers and potheads, the jocks, the jockettes, the choir, and the other groups that she never seemed to fit into. Some of the people looked the same, some looked totally different. Most were now married with children. Others turned out to be gay (well, some we already knew about back then). At first, she thought the evening was going to be a big bust, with her sitting alone not talking to anyone and not really caring about these people anyway. She only came because she wanted to see how fat and ugly the women had gotten after all their kids and see how much their big boobs now sagged after the kids came, while her small boobies that everyone laughed at were still perky.

"Who knew?" she thought "Who knew that last night would be THE hottest night of fun, flirting, exploration, and pure ram animal lust she had ever had! Who knew that HE would be there!" As her thoughts of last night raced through her mind again, she felt OP start to stir and get wet all over again.

As she looked out the window, she thought back so many years ago to the LAST time she left this town, and compared how different it was THIS time. She thought about graduation night so many years ago, the night before she left, when she finally "graduated" into womanhood as well.

He had been her boyfriend for a few months, and like any horny teenager, was always wanting her to "go all the way." She was horny too, but was still trying to live down her reputation form 8th grade. She had already let him get pretty far. They kissed, of course, even French kissed. She had let him play with her boobs through her blouse and even let him put his hands down her pants a few times. He was the first boy to feel the soft, downy hair that was growing "down there" and the first boy to feel OP's soft, warm folds. His hands were rough though, and he had no idea what he was doing, so it hurt. He kept trying to jam his finger inside her when she wasn't ready. He didn't understand that sometimes the threat of being caught if your parents come in was NOT a turn on and that she didn't get wet on command. Several times, she had to stop him because it had hurt too much. She wasn't a cock tease either. When they went parking, she would pull it out and give him handjobs. He would always come in about 30 seconds. He kept wanting her to give him head, but the closest she came was to kiss it once. Back then, she thought that of swallowing that stuff grossed her out, and she naively thought that she might get pregnant if she did. What a hoot! Poor guy.

So on graduation night, at the party after the ceremony, she had decided it was time to "do it." There was beer, alcohol, and pot floating all over the house, kids were sprawled everywhere, and everyone was lamenting the end of their childhoods and how they now had to face "the real world." She was leaving the next day on a trip with friends, and then off to college. Although she promised her boyfriend they would try to do the long distance relationship thing, she knew full well that this guy was history after tomorrow. So she thought before she dumped him that she'd send him off with a bang, so to speak. She smiled as she caught herself laughing at her own thoughts.

They had gone upstairs to an empty bedroom and locked the door. She lit a single candle for light. She still remembered it was Jasmine scented, her favorite. Funny the little details you remember. She took him by the hand and they sat on the edge of the bed. They both took off their shoes and socks so as not to get the bed dirty. After their eyes adjusted to the light, they began to kiss, first softly and then more passionately. But he was like a racehorse at the starting gate, raring to go! He jammed his tongue down her throat in his feeble attempt at French kissing. You'd think with all the kissing they'd done, he would have learned better.

As they kissed, he took his shirt off, his hard, teenage chest and arms emerging into the soft light. He DID have a nice body, she remembered. He cradled her face in his hands as they continued to kiss. "Maybe he was so drunk he needed to hold on to find my face," she thought amusingly. She snickered again. She remembered how she took his hands in hers and gently guided them to her breasts. He began to pinch and roll her nipples through her blouse and bra. He unbuttoned her blouse, and slipped it off her shoulders. Her stark white bra almost glowed in the darkness. Back then, that was the only color you could get. Good ole Sears. ("Thank God for Victoria's Secret now," she thought.) His trembling hands felt their way through the padding as they continued to explore. Funny...looking back on it now, she remembers it in more clinical and scientific terms...not as a passionate moment between star-crossed lovers. More like two horny teenagers wanting to find out what "doing it" was like. Again, she smiled at the irony.

This "foreplay master" spent all of about thirty seconds playing with her tits through her bra before he was at the bra strap, trying to get it off. She calmly reached around and 'unlocked" it (Obviously he hadn't been practicing on his sister's or mom's bras like she heard other guys did). She was shy and nervous as she now sat there, topless, in front of a boy for the first time. Back then, she was VERY self conscious about her body...what teenage girl wasn't? But, at 5'10," she was taller than most of the boys and almost all the girls. She had red curly hair, while all the boys liked the blonde cheerleader types. Now, for the first time, she was getting naked in front of a boy. She was excited but nervous. Her nipples here fully erect and clearly visible in the candlelight. He seemed kind of nervous with her topless, which she didn't know how to take. "Did he like them? Were they disgusting?" But she realized that his nervousness was probably because this was the first pair of tits he had ever seen up close. He reached over and took a swig of his beer, then turned his attention to her chest. He touched her breasts ("OH! Cold hands!" she remembered, "Next time, don't pick up the cold beer bottle first!").

He pinched and rolled her nipples like he was tuning a radio. It felt pretty good, but her nipples are very sensitive (he didn't know that), so he was sort of rough, and it hurt. She tried to guide his hands to be more gentle, but he didn't quite get the hint. It felt better when they laid back on the bed, and he, for the first time, got to use his mouth on her nipples. He licked and sucked on her tits for only about a minute or two, but it felt really good! Still a little rough still, but good. As he was crawling on the bed on top of her, she reached up and cupped her hand over the zipper of his pants. That boy was HARD! As soon as she touched him, that must have been his signal for post time because now the race was on to go further, because he had immediately stopped sucking her tits and straightened up, balancing on his knees so that he could start to unbuckle his belt and jeans. He slipped off his jeans and she saw his hardness straining against the white fabric of his Fruit of the Looms. She started to unbuckle her belt and jeans as well, and lifted her hips slightly as she slid them off. Here they were now, in their underpants, wondering who would make the next move.

Being a Capricorn, known for taking charge, she took over for a while. She pushed him down onto his back, and started to kiss his chest and stomach. As she did, she slipped her fingers under the waistband of his briefs and slowly peeled them down, being careful not to "catch" them on his turgid rod. She remembered seeing his cock for the first time in it's full glory, and it didn't seem as big as it had those times she had given him the hand jobs. But then again, all THOSE times, it was still couped up in his pants, which probably pushed it up and made it look bigger. Still, it was a nice cock, she recalled. Long, hard, and very nicely shaped. She looked at him. He was looking at his cock with a big grin on his face, like a proud daddy! Men!

She resumed her kissing of his chest and stomach. She licked HIS nipples and even bit them a time or two. But now that his cock was out in the open, all he wanted was her to play with it. All those other erogenous zones were forgotten. What he really wanted was a blowjob. He tried to be subtle, but she felt the pressure on her head to move downward as he ran his fingers through her thick tresses. As she got closer and closer to "it," the pressure from him on the back of her head increased. She took his cock in her right hand, and carefully examined it as best she could in the limited light. She had never really seen one up close either. She squeezed it in her hand. When she did, a drop of fluid had appeared at the tip. She remembered not knowing what to do with the fluid. She thought he had to go pee. Curiosity finally got to her, and she dipped her finger into it. It was sticky, and very slick. It wasn't pee. She rubbed the fluid between the thumb and forefinger on her left hand, testing the consistency, all the while keeping his cock firmly gripped in her right hand. She finally touched the tip of her finger to her tongue, tasting her first bit of salty pre-come fluid (she had since learned in health class that you can't get pregnant from putting it in your mouth).

Impatient with her distracting discovery, he shifted his hips, moving his cock in her hand and bringing her attention back to HIM...and HIS raging hard-on! She was ready to try the next step and give him the blowjob he had been wanting. The girls in gym had talked about giving them, so now she was trying to remember what they had said on how to do it. He was already laying on his back with his legs spread, so she had gotten between his legs on her knees and taken up her position. She adjusted her grip on his cock and, summoning her inner strength and fighting back the urge to puke, opened her mouth and stuck it in as far as it would go, all in one big movement. As she closed her lips around this man meat, suddenly it didn't seem small again. It wasn't a huge cock, she'd had bigger over the years, but at the time, she could only get a little past the head in her mouth for fear of gagging. She remembered that it didn't have a taste either, other than slightly salty. She kept her lips wrapped around it as she slowly withdrew the thing from her mouth. She was trying to remember all the advice she had gotten. She looked at him. His eyes were closed...and he had a look on his face like he had just seen God...so HE wasn't about to offer any advice. So she tried as best she could to give her first blowjob ("Which should be called a suckjob" she mused)! She worked the stiff fleshy rod in and out of her mouth a few times, getting it slicker with her saliva each time. She remembered thinking, when she started to pull him out of her mouth for the third time, about the commercial for Tootsie Roll pops and that it only takes three licks to get to the center and whether or not she should bite his cock after three licks. A man in the seat across the aisle looked over at her as she giggled under her breath at this ancient inside joke.

The blowjob didn't take long, but it seemed like it. Maybe a minute in real time, as he had stopped her before he came. ( He had told her afterwards that he was right on the edge after her mouth first touched his cock.) She laid down next to him on the bed while he gripped his cock in a death grip to keep from coming. While she laid there, she had lifted her hips and slid her plain, cotton panties off, letting him see, for the first time, her red downy bush and his first coochie. Back then, nobody shaved, especially teenagers, so it was all natural and pretty wild down there. She had heard from her friends about their boyfriends "going down" on them. Apparently, some boys would lick the girls' down there too, and it was supposed to feel really good.

At the time, she thought that no man would do that. How disgusting! But she thought back to all the times she had rubbed herself there, and how wet she had gotten, and thought that if a man DID lick her there, it would feel incredible.

She looked over at her so-called boyfriend, still sprawled on the bed holding his hard-on. It was clear that HE wasn't going to do anything like that. He was already putting the rubber on. Where he had gotten it, she had no idea, but she was glad to see that he had one, and was willing to use it.

Foreplay was over. In all, it had lasted about 3 minutes, with about 2 of those being getting undressed. He had now prepared his tool...it was time to sacrifice the virgin! She slowly spread her legs as he crawled up between them into the missionary position and got ready for action. The time had come...

She helped guide him into position between her legs with her hands, and felt the head of his throbbing cock as she put it just inside the outer lips of her young, nubile pussy. She closed her eyes, bit her lower lip, and said goodbye to being a girl. With a grunt, he pushed hard and went inside her with one stroke. She had lost her hymen years earlier to a tampon so it didn't hurt when he entered her, at least not like all the girls made it out to be. She remembered letting out a gasp at the sensation of fullness that suddenly filled her as she felt the tight walls of her pussy clinging to his condom-covered cock. Slowly, his hips began to move and she felt the hot, slick tool start to slide in and out of her wet, warm folds. But the joy of that "first time" was fleeting. His gentle first few strokes felt GREAT, but he suddenly increased his tempo and pounded into her like there was no tomorrow. (Funny, for him there wasn't)! She wasn't ready for such rough treatment yet, but he was going to come, and this was about HIM, not her! It had only been MAYBE 30 seconds of fucking and he was now done. She remembers feeling the pulses of his cock as he came. Powerful contractions that shuddered through his whole body. His face was contorted (In a funny way, he looked like he was in acute pain). She wondered if the condom was strong enough to capture the explosion of his white, sticky man-juice (it did). "That's it? she thought, "that's what all the hype is about?" For her, she had hardly even started to get warmed up before it was over! And it WAS over. Once he came, he had simply rolled over, taken another slug of beer, and gone to sleep. He got his, and she was left to fend for herself and her own needs. It was a lesson she would learn many times over the ensuing years.

She had dressed quietly while he laid there sleeping off their great night of "romance." Her first impression? "What's the big deal? It felt OK, but I've gotten off better doing it myself." She slipped quietly out of the bedroom, out of the party, and back to her house. She never saw that boy again...and left on her trip the next day...a woman!

The plane had landed safely and she walked toward the exit and saw her best girlfriend who was at the curb to pick her up. "What a difference the years can make" she thought, as she climbed into the passenger seat. As they drove home, weekend traffic was crawling down the road. Accident somewhere up ahead was stalling traffic. It would take forever to get home at this pace. Her friend noticed her leaning her head back against the headrest, her eyes closed, a slight smile on her face. Peaceful...happy. She held her rose in her hand, and sniffed it occasionally.

"So...," her friend started the leading question, ..."YOU seem to be in a good mood and not letting all this traffic get to you! What's your secret? And who gave you the rose?"

Her smile got even bigger. "Mmmmm, I am in a good mood!" she hummed without opening her eyes, taking another big whiff of her rose.. Her friend, of course, knew what THAT meant...she had met a guy!

"OK! We're stuck in traffic going nowhere fast. Tell me ALL about him! And don't leave out a single detail! Who is he? What does he look like? Where did you meet him?"

A mischievous grin came across her face as she recounted the events of last night and early this morning. "Honey, I finally got my cabana boy!Except he was NO boy, he was ALL man!"

It was an inside joke. A few years earlier, they had taken a trip to the Caribbean with their now ex-spouses, and both had commented that it was such a waste to be in such a tropical paradise, with the sea breezes blowing, the rum flowing, the music playing, the water sparkling, and all that fine young cabana-boy man meat hotel staff walking around looking like they just walked out of GQ...and they were stuck with Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble. And to make things worse (or better depending on your perspective), their husbands went and played golf all day, leaving them alone around the pool to work on their tans. Little did their husbands know that they were checking out the butts, chests, six packs, and "packages" of almost every man they saw, making comparisons, noting which ones were "do"able or not. She wondered now if her ex-husband ever suspected that, later while they were making love, she was fantasizing the whole time about some hot, sweaty, faceless, nameless cabana boy being between her legs and igniting what little passion she could still muster with that poor excuse for a man. . Ever since that trip and after their divorces, the two friends had always joked about going back to the tropics and getting their cabana boy.

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