I was horny. No doubt about it. The day started with a glance at a surveyor outside my apartment--working his transit out in the street. He was a big, muscular guy who looked like he would know how to use his big cock. Any man with broad shoulders like those and pecs that bulged his t-shirt had to be hung. What a body. Perfect.
My apartment was close to Thrushmore High School, so I walked. I spotted a postman wearing shorts in the hot autumn weather. Carried a big leather bag. Probably had another one between his legs. Damn, I was horny. I could imagine that guy's postmark jolting me as his hips slammed into mine.
It had been too long. My pussy ached to stretch out over a big cock, to feel a man's seed surging up inside me. My first teaching job in 1967, was in a little town, Thrushmore, California. Orange groves. Old farmhouses. Plenty of well-built farm laborers, but I hadn't spotted a single man who'd return "the look." Conservative place. I had to be careful--didn't want to get fired for being a slut.
But I was. No two ways about it. Ever since my college days. Damn, I was horny. Every man looked good. Even the old man with a beard who stood raking the leaves. He was healthy, strong, and--I just knew it--hung. Damn, I wanted to get laid! Will I have to drive all the way back to L.A. this weekend?
Back in my college days at UCLA, you could say I had fallen in with a bad crowd. I got an apartment on Strathmore Drive with three roommates. The very first day I saw Cindy naked. I was stunned. Back home nobody ever went around without any clothes! Did I ever feel awkward! "Hi, I-I'm Nancy. Y-you're beautiful!" Oh, I felt so stupid! My face felt hot--I was blushing!
"Hey, thanks for the compliment, Nancy. Welcome to California!" Cindy smiled. "We like things natural around here. We're very casual in the apartment" And that was the beginning of a Kansas girl's introduction to How It Is.
Then I met the others--Karen and Gidget--both of them beautiful. Gidget had short, blonde hair like Cindy's. Karen was the folksinger: she had long, shiny, flowing black hair. But all had pretty, twinkling eyes, and tits! Beautiful breasts, pointed and firm. Slender bodies. Nice hips. Long, long legs. Damn, they were beautiful.
And naked! Everybody ran around the apartment stark, raving nude! It wasn't long before I was walking around the apartment naked, too,. I tried hard to blend in with those wild Southern California girls, but my real education came a week or so later when I experienced my first Southern California student party.
I really don't know how it all happened, but a bunch of good-looking guys arrived, and we started drinking. As time went by, I noticed one, then two, then all of my roommates were naked. I wanted to blend in with Southern California, so I pulled off my clothes with the help of one of the boys.
Then I looked around. All the boys were naked, too!
Oh, I'm too drunk. Things are getting out of control! But damn! I'd never seen a naked man before, and suddenly I was surrounded by a dozen or more men--and penises. I'd never seen a hard penis. God, they're gigantic!
And all the boys were the handsomest guys I'd ever seen! Some of them looked like Robert Redford, that new TV star, and still others looked like Steve Reeves, Peter O'Toole, and Richard Burton! Muscles! I'd never seen such big muscles! Broad shoulders, big chests, and hard, flat bellies! It made me hot just to look at them. And those penises--they called them "cocks!" Every one of them seemed to have a hardon.
I was fascinated! The guys just wandering around or talking to each other had cocks that stuck out, all right, but like straight out from the body. Those who were really aroused, like the three who were making out with Cindy, Karen, and Gidget, had cocks that were rock hard and stuck up straight, pointing at their chests.
I was a little worried (I mean, I was a virgin), but I'd had so much of what started out to be white Zinfandel wine and turned into--last time I could read the bottle--Beefeater gin (94 proof), I was getting into the party just fine. There's nothing like dancing naked with dozens of equally naked men!
One particularly handsome guy got me into a corner, and we started necking. Again, these guys went way past what was "allowable" in Topeka, I mean a kiss is just great, but wow, when his kisses slipped down to my nipples, I was in heaven!
But he was much better than that. Somehow I ended up sitting on the piano, my bare feet down on the keyboard while he played something by Chuck Berry. Then he moved his head between my legs.
As he was belting out "Sweet Little Sixteen," his face moved closer to my already-wet pussy, and when his tongue touched my swollen labia, the last thing I remember was gasping, "But I'm not sixteen, I'm eighteen," and the rest was electrocuting jolts of ecstasy sent up through my pussy and the rest of my body! He drove me crazy! His tongue between my pussy lips, slithering up to diddle my clitoris was the most stunning thing I'd ever felt!
I spread my legs wide for him, reaching up to fondle and pinch my own nipple, my head sagging back in the most joyous feeling I'd ever had! God, it was wonderful!
And we were fucking. Seamless transition, really. He got me so hot with that devil's tongue in my pussy, when he stood up and took me in his arms, my legs naturally wrapped around his waist and buns, and Ohmigod! There it was! His big cock nudged at my pussy.
But I was so damned hot and my vagina so wet and ready, I pulled him toward me, and he sank it in!
Yow! I flinched as my virginity disappeared in a flash of pain. And then he sank in deep. God! What a feeling! I was so horny any pain faded away quickly, and soon I was writhing against him as he did what boys do! God, this is fabulous! Why have I waited so damned long?
He held me close, kissing me, fucking my mouth with his tongue, and the coarse hair on his chest scratched and rubbed at my nipples, driving me crazy! I felt it. I felt it! A terrible, unbelievable, growing power between my legs, and I let out a hoarse scream!
I shot into the sky on his big rocket, my mind exploding into fireworks with my very first orgasm!
I couldn't believe it! He kept up those wonderful lunges, and he drove me into another one! And another! And another!
By the time he grunted, "Here it comes, baby," I was almost insane, and when his hot seed shot up inside me--the other girls had already turned me on to The Pill--it was such a fabulous feeling, I went into still another climax!
By the time he pulled out of me, I was a limp rag of female flesh, the piano keyboard smeared and sloppy with my pussy juice and his cum, and when I got down, I could hardly stand. God, I love sex!
He murmured in my ear, "You got a hot cunt, baby."
A cunt. Yes, it's a cunt! I want somebody to fuck my cunt again!
I'm not exactly sure how I made that desire public--I don't remember saying anything--but somehow all the boys figured it out, and for the rest of the night, I learned what boys can do with girls. All my roommates were doing the same thing, so I guess I had blended right in.
Somehow I ended up in my bedroom, on my hands and knees while one of the guys--the first one was the boy who reminded me of Peter O'Toole--sank his magnificent cock into my cunt from behind.
I dropped down onto my elbows to raise my ass so he got a better angle--and right there was another cock! Right in front of my face. God, it was sexy! Big, throbbing.
And it had a foreskin. I had no idea! Never seen one before! Didn't even know there was such a thing!
It was exciting! Clark Kent became Superman when I pulled back his tan street clothes, and out popped the super-hero, hot, red, moist and drooling that sexy little drop of whatever-they-called-it. Oh, yes, pre-cum!
I just had to kiss that big cock, and once I did, I tasted that pre-cum. God! It was salty, but something more! Something powerful, something primal, basic! It turned me on like an aphrodisiac.
I had to suck it! I took his big cock into my mouth, and god, what a thrill! I love to suck cock! It's a thrill almost as hot as Peter O'Toole's big peter tooling my cunt!
Oh, yes! I bobbed my head up and down on him, and somehow I knew by instinct what to do--lick around the flare of his cockhead, buzz-saw my tongue just underneath it, stroke my hand on his shaft--and I'll be damned! I got him out of control!
He grunted deep and hoarse, lurched his hips at me, and blam! A big gush of something hot shot into my mouth, and--Jesus Christ--it was even more intoxicating than his pre-cum. Slimy stuff, also a little salty, but it had another tang, something stronger, something that melted my will. God, I love this stuff! I gulped and slurped, savoring the pungent taste, swallowing everything he had to give, and my body took over--I shivered and shook under Peter's lunges and I went into my own orgasm, flooding my cunt with juices, slicking his thrusts and floating me away into a bright blue sky while the delicious cum sliding down my throat was the icing on the cake!
That more or less described the rest of the night. I don't know how many college boys got me, but I also think a few neighbors wandered in. I remember one cock so hugely thick, I looked back to see who was wielding it, and he was a man in his 40s (damn, he was good). I also noticed that the biggest dicks I took into my mouth were usually attached to a man who didn't look like a student.
In fact, our whole apartment was jammed with people! Naked men and women were fucking in every imaginable way! Close to me, Cindy's eyes shut in bliss as she humped up and down on a good-looking guy with a curly brown beard. Further away, Karen the folksinger sang Joan Baez's "Silver Dagger" in jerky gasps, looking up at her current lover, her legs splayed wide as his huge cock reamed open her cunt. Near the door, Gidget, who was 19 but was tiny and looked 14, stared back at me glassy-eyed, on her hands and knees as an old, gray-haired man bred her like a bitch.
But there were more women! A blonde I didn't recognize held onto a strange guy--bleached blond, looked like surfer--as he sank his cock up her pussy. Her head lolled back in ecstasy. A red-headed woman leaned back, raising her legs high for a man busily humping her, and suddenly--Damn, I can see her cunt!
I gasped! That mean's he's fucking--he's in her asshole!! I'd never seen anything so bestial and erotic in my life!
There had to be a damned 20 or 30 people in there! The whole apartment smelled of sex! The floor was slippery with sperm and pussy juice! An orgy! I'm in my first California orgy!
I wonder how many men fucked me that night. All I know is that when I woke up the next morning, only Cindy, Karen, and Gidget were still there, still naked, and all of us groaning with hangovers. That taught me the joys of fucking, though, and in one night Southern California had switched me from shy Kansan to horny SoCal babe.
And as I went through college life to graduation, I learned how fabulous it is to have a sexual life, and although I'm sure I acquired a rep as a slut, I didn't really care. At least I wasn't a poor slut. My parents sent me enough money for my own car, and I could afford good clothes. I wasn't a whore. I didn't need the money; I fucked for free. Because I wanted to.
I didn't score very high in religion classes, though.
So you can imagine what a drag Thrushmore was after almost constant sexual excitement in Los Angeles. I hiked over to the school and once there, I went to the office to fill out some reports. While I banged away at the typewriter, the football team came in to sign bus rosters or whatever for the trip to the away game. Big kids, all of them.
The biggest one, Tom Prandon, a linebacker, was a stud famous throughout the school. I had him in my last class of the day. The kid was a legend. Even as a teacher in this first month, I'd heard of Tom Prandon and the dozens of girls he'd made it with.
I got that feeling deep in my pussy, like a guitar being strummed. I would like to be one of those cheerleaders, feeling my teenage cunt stretching, giving up my cherry, becoming a woman! Damn hunky kid. I couldn't stop imagining him nude in the showers. Lucky coaches. They could see him anytime he wanted.
I daydreamed again. Tom Prandon's got a big one. With a foreskin. Thick. And long. When it stiffens up, his cockhead slides out of that foreskin, sticking out red, moist, and slimy. And then I touch it with my tongue--No! I shook my head, regained control of myself, and typed away at my reports.
But Prandon, the big 18-year-old senior, the big guy, came strutting by where I was working. Damn, he was a monster. Looked older than his age. He looked like Marlon Brando in "The Wild Ones." Wavy black hair combed back in a ducktail. Black leather jacket covered with zippers and snaps. Motorcycle boots.
What would it be like to be in bed with him? How would he "straighten me out"? I'd never seen what he was packing, of course, but as he walked by me, I could almost feel it! I'd heard girls whisper about it when they thought I couldn't hear, but something down deep inside me guaranteed that kid had a big cock inside those blue jeans!
My stomach knotted up, and I felt my panties getting wet. Damn, am I glad I've got on a Navy blue skirt. I bowed my head, anything to keep away from the magnet of that hunky looking kid. He was masculinity on wheels. Muscles. Dark eyes. Voluptuous mouth, like Elvis Presley. Even had a 5 o'clock shadow at his age. I could almost smell his sperm.
Something worse: he seemed to know the power he had. It was like waves radiated from him to me. I forced myself to look at the typewriter keyboard, but I caught myself breathing harder, and I bit my lip, anything to stop the arousal.
I glanced to the side. He stood there, body toward me, his crotch at the level of my face. A big bulge. Huge. Like he stuffed a baseball in there. I felt the spiral starting up again, and I shook my head. No! I am not getting horny over this kid!! I risked a glance upward. He wasn't even looking at me. His body faced me, but his head was turned to look at the principal, who was telling them something about the bus ride to the football game.
But the big bulge in his pants was right at my face. He knows. Somehow he knows what he does to me. I gulped, so horny I was literally on the verge of cumming in my chair.
But he did nothing. Just stood there, sex waves throbbing out of that big bulge, and I swear I could feel the heat from it on my face. I ached to reach out and cup that huge basket in my hand, but I forced myself to resist.
I looked at the page in the typewriter. I had typed the same word over and over. I was losing it, and I was in trouble. But finally, miraculously, the football team finished its business and trooped out of the office. I let out a sigh. I had beads of perspiration on my face. That was a close one.
That's the way the day started out, even before classes began. Throughout the rest of the day, I had more horny experiences. Hunky kids scratching their balls as they sat in their desks. I taught senior English, so all my students were 18. Fully developed. Big bulges in tight jeans.
Even the faculty lounge wasn't safe. Coach Cadze seemed to know what to say to make me hot. "Never saw a kid like that Prandon," he chuckled. "Hung like a horse." What a dolt. Decades later he would be upbraided for sexual harassment. But in 1967 those words gave me an itch between my legs.
I tried to get away from him--couldn't stand to hear such stuff--but he followed me across the room with his coffee cup. Coach Cadze pushed all my buttons--almost as if he knew he was. "Kid's like a jet fighter, aggressive, powerful, well armed." He laughed. "You should see him when he's stiffened up. I feel sorry for those cheerleaders on the nights we win. Or even when we lose!" Yuk, yuk. He was a Neanderthal, but he had me hot and bothered.
Still later in the day, another bit of stimulus: a couple of bullies yanked down Arnold Gilliam's pants. No big deal, really, just an embarrassment for the poor kid. He just needed a little reassurance, etc. The other boys ran off when they saw me, and I walked over to give Arnold a little arm-around-the-shoulder sympathy.
He, too, was a senior and 18 years old, but he was a wimp. The school nerd. Short for his age. Tousled, dirty-blond hair. Poor kid had pimples and crooked teeth. Wore glasses. He was facing away as I walked up, struggling to pick up his books and pull up his pants. I stood behind him, helping him pull up his underwear and pants, but when I stepped in front of him, damn! Little Arnold Gilliam was hung! I helped him pull his briefs up in front--God, what a cock! and helped him pull up his pants. I could hardly breathe!
I fought myself down! My hand craved to grope just once more over that big bulge--Little Gilliam! Who woulda thunk??--but I didn't. I sent him on his way with my pussy wetting my panties again.
By then I couldn't think of anything but sex. Even Coach Cadze himself was a turn-on when later in the day, I passed him in the halls. Not a bad-looking guy, really. Square jaw. Shaved head. About six feet, maybe 225 pounds. I strained not to look, but the sight of the clearly defined bulge in those sweatpants gave me a knot in my throat and a warmth down below. I knew he wore a jockstrap--all coaches do, don't they?--so a bulge that big, crammed inside an elasticized mesh pouch, meant he had to have a cock like a firehose!
Damn, I'm horny. I tried to stop thinking about Cadze and steeled myself for the last class of the day--then I could go home, order a pizza, and wear out another vibrator to a couple of porn videos. Maybe I will drive back to L.A. this weekend! I've got to get laid!
But I had one more trial: the last class of the day was the one with Prandon in it. I was showing a documentary movie in my last class, and I had to get the projector. I went to fetch it from the storage room, which was down a dim hallway at the far end of the school.
As I came around the corner, I spotted Prandon himself. He stood against the wall, his zipper pulled down and his cock out--and Janey Barkett, the head cheerleader, knelt in front of him sucking it! Freckled, red-headed, All-American Janey was blowing dark, hoodlum Prandon--it was like Mouseketeer Annette Funicello surrendering to Hell's Angels.
I was right! Prandon was hung! The big thing spread Janey's jaws wide, and it was so long only a part of it sank into her mouth. Janey bobbed her head back and forth on it, jacking it with one hand and cupping his balls with the other.
They didn't notice me at first, and by the time they did, I had been staring for too long, entranced by the sight. I caught them, but they certainly caught me. Prandon looked at me with a smile. "Watch Janey swallow my cum, Nancy, and then we'll go to class."
Outrageous! He expects me to permit such an act on school grounds. And he didn't call me "Miss Canfield."
But I stood there watching. Janey Barkett never stopped sucking. Tom Prandon never stopped smiling. "Yeahhh, here it comes!" Janey started gulping, and dribbles of white slime leaked from the sides of her mouth. Prandon's orgasm must've driven Janey into her own--she almost swooned, and I knew her panties were wet.