tagFirst TimeStacy in Athens

Stacy in Athens

byLongstretch©

When I drifted into the student lounge just after lunch, the table where I usually played cutthroat hearts was full. I was hunting for a girl I'd never met but whose picture in the student handbook I found attractive. It showed a great smile, alert eyes, a full head of light hair, and shoulders to die for. Her name was Stacy.

Casual inquiry told me that Stacy hung around the card game, but I hadn't seen her there. The same casual inquiry revealed that her parents were 1940s B-movie actors. Her father actually had his own series on television until last year.

She was sitting with two other girls off to the side. "How's the game going?" I asked. One of the girls, who apparently also watched the game, said "Ron's winning as usual and they don't have you to fleece." They seemed to know that I was a junior faculty member. I blushed but agreed that I needed to improve my game.

I introduced myself and asked them their names. Anne, Stacy, and Mary introduced themselves. Where are you from? Do you like the ship? Did you see the Bay of Naples when we were there? Did you know what Lord Byron said about the view? Mary was more chatty than Stacy or Anne, but Stacy picked up on Byron the poet and I took off on that. Anne lost interest and moved on, but Mary stayed.

"Anyone for a Coke and watch the volleyball game?"

"Have a ball, but it's boring," said Mary.

But Stacy was game. I made a show of trying to keep Mary with us, but she was adamant. Stacy and I got our Cokes at the commissary and found room on a deck hatch to watch the tanned bodies.

Stacy's mother had offered her the chance to take this student cruise, a half-year sailing to 17 ports in Europe, Africa, and the Americas, as a present for her nineteenth birthday.

A sophomore at UCLA, she was undecided about her major but liked literature, particularly poetry. She didn't know about Byron and Naples but she had read Byron, Keats, and Shelley.

"Let's go up on the sun deck," I said. "We're losing the rays here." It wasn't that there were fewer people on the sun deck, but they were more spread out, so the chance for prying ears was less.

Stacy told me about her parents and their divorce. She had a younger sister and they lived with her mother in a huge "bungalow" in the Hollywood hills. Her mother had a second husband, a professional horseman whom even I had heard of. Stacy liked to ride.

"Have you tried to find a place to ride in any of the ports?" I prompted.

"No, how could I?"

"You have to decide what you want to do. These cities have an amazing amount to offer. All you have to do is ask the Advance Director for advice. So what do you do in port?"

"I take the tour of the city with everyone else, then a couple of us go shopping and sightsee. We like to go to nice restaurants."

"You could do more."

"You mean go drinking with the surfer boys? No thanks."

"No, I'm serious. As I said, pick out something that interests you about each port before you get there. The Advance Director will check with the tour company to recommend some place where you can ride, for example."

"I never thought of that." She paused and looked at her feet. "You must think I'm an airhead."

"No you're not. But you have to push yourself to take advantage of this trip. Is it a question of money?" That was kind of blunt.

"No, mom gave me my own American Express card especially for this trip. I can get cash with it as well."

"All right. The next port is Piraeus, outside of Athens. Let's go over to the library and see what we can find."

The ship's library was really a joke. While there was a librarian, she didn't take it seriously and there was usually no one there. Its largest holding was of outdated bound copies of U. S. Chamber of Commerce pamphlets. But it did have some travel books on Greece.

The four guidebooks provided nothing about horseback riding anywhere near Athens. We sat next to each other at the reading table as we thumbed through the books. At one point our legs touched and she didn't pull away.

We gave up and left. The sun was going down and I asked her when her sitting was for dinner. As it turned out, she was not on mine. I urged her to find something interesting for her time in Athens, that it was a shame to waste the experience.

I ran into Stacy in mid-morning the next day. As we walked along the deck I asked if she had given any further thought to our conversation.

"Yes, I did. Do you know why the Parthenon is such a wreck?" I had a pretty good idea but didn't let on.

"Nope. Do you?"

"Because the Ottoman Turks used it for a powder magazine and it blew up on them."

"You mean it just didn't fall into disrepair?"

"No. During the wars between the Christians and the Muslims they fought over Greece. Athens was occupied by the Turks and the Venetians bombarded the city. One of their bombs hit the Parthenon and ignited all the gunpowder there."

"That's really interesting. So are you going to go see it?"

"I'd like to," she said, and looked down at her feet.

"Let's go together. Game?"

"Yes, yes, that would be nice."

"C'mon, we can talk some more," and I walked toward the steps leading down to the deck where my cabin was.

Stacy hesitated, then followed me. I guided her toward my cabin, makinig sure she was the first through the various doors until we were at my cabin. I entered first, then motioned her inside.

"I'm sorry it's not more homey. They give the RA's inside cabins, but it's all mine." There were four bunks, three of which were fully made up and hooked upright to the wall. Housekeeping had made my bed. Aside from a sink, the only furniture was a built-in dresser with a closet above and a side chair.

I asked Stacy to take off her shoes and, like me, put them on the newspaper next to the door so that the road dirt didn't overrun the floors, which were seldom cleaned. I sat at the head of the bunk and motioned her to the only chair.

"Is your cabin any nicer?" I asked.

"Well, there are two of us, but only one top bunk, which is hooked to the wall, like yours. We've got a porthole where your fourth bunk is. We have two closets and dressers. And we've put some rugs on the floor, but they do get gritty."

"Yeah, I started taking off my shoes in college, because the snow and salt and sand just overwhelmed my dorm room. Dirt just makes a place feel, well, dirty."

I propped myself up with two pillows and lay back, facing her. I hoped she had done some more reading about Athens, but she wanted to talk about Byron's poetry from the Athens period of his life, where he wrote Don Juan, a long poem with enough erotic material to excite anyone.

After a while I began fidgetting, then sighed. "Stacy, would you pull the backscratcher out of my top drawer? I've got an unreachable itch." She retrieved it and walked over to me.

"Would you scratch right here," I said, rolling onto my belly and pointing to an inaccessible part of my back.

She used the scratcher tentatively, starting lightly. "Over here. Yes, that's it. Oooooh good. Can you switch to your fingernails? It would feel nicer." I snuck a peek at her face and saw uncertainty. I said "Please" and she sat down on the edge of my bunk and ever so lightly touched my back with her nails.

"Oh, that's nice, scratch harder, you're really good, thank you," I said, and just let her go until she seemed to tire. Then I turned on my side to face her.

"You're terrific. I'm glad you came here."

"I like talking with you, Peter. You know so much and you've been all over. I'm too mousy for my own good, and I'm afraid I'll never get over it."

"There are some terminal cases on board, that's for sure," I said. "But you're made of sterner stuff. Look at your mother. She bounced back from a divorce and found real love. You have to take a chance sometimes to succeed. If you fear failure you won't succeed. It's amazing how many second chances you can have if you risk in good faith."

She nodded as I was blabbering and seemed to relax. I reached for her left hand and brought it to my face. This unbalanced her and she fell into the bunk. I kept her hand and kissed it lightly on the back.

She pulled back and righted herself. "I didn't mean to collapse on you, I'm sorry."

"Your hand is really soft. May I kiss you?"

"Okay."

I stood up and reached for her waist. She moved toward me. Our mouths met in a warm embrace and she pressed against me. I sat down on the bunk, so that she was standing above me, looking down.

"Does my beard tickle?" I asked.

"Yes, I like it."

"Can I tickle you again?" I said and reached up to her and drew her down.

She snuggled in beside me and our lips clasped. I stroked her shoulder and neck. She followed the same path with her free hand.

"Lay on top of me, Stacy."

"Oh Peter, I can't."

"Sure you can. Do you want to? Consider what you really want to do. I would like to feel you on top of me."

She put her hips on top of mine, which meant she felt my erection at her pelvis. She didn't stop, just adjusted herself so that her face was in line with mine.

This time I opened my mouth and sought her tongue. She hesitated at first, but then pushed back. We tongue wrestled for a little, then broke it off because we were out of breath.

"So you've never been kissed, eh?"

"Oh, I've been kissed, and I've kissed back, can't you tell?"

"I thought you were going to get a hammerlock on my tongue."

Best 2 out of 3?" she challenged.

This time she pushed forward with her tongue and I had to pay attention just to stay even. I arched my hips into her, but my erection was now between her legs. She closed her thighs and held it tight.

I was working my hands down her back at this point. When she clamped my erection I slid them into her pants, under her panties, and grabbed her bare buttocks and squeezed. She stiffened and started to pull away from my mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it and pushed my tongue deep back into my mouth.

"Not fair! You distracted me."

"Grabbing my bare ass doesn't count as distraction?"

Did you like it?"

"Did you like what I did with my thighs?"

"I asked first. Yes or no?"

"Yes. Now you."

"Oh yes. I was surprised, but yes, yes, I did like it."

We were breathing even more heavily than before. Her hair was in her face so I brushed it aside. She took my hand and kissed it. I moaned in encouragement and she moved her lips to my wrist.

With my free hand I tried to pull her shirt out of her jeans. I wasn't successful because of the way we were situated.

"Can we sit up, Stacy? We're pretty tangled."

She quickly moved to the edge of the bunk and I joined her. She was flushed, as was I. We kissed again and I moved my hands down her back. She pulled her shirt out of her pants.

"Why?" I said.

"Because it's all twisted, might as well be comfortable."

I stood and brought her up with me. She was half a head shorter than I. I could only reach the first two buttons of her shirt before I had to kneel. As I did so, she pressed her hands on my shoulders. I moved to her pants. "No, please, Peter, don't."

"Lift your arms, Stacy, so I can get your shirt off." She did so and revealed a soft white brassiere.

I pulled off my shirt and held her. She was trembling, almost shivering, and breathing deeply.

"Okay?" I said.

"Oh yes, I think. Peter, this is so sudden. I had no idea. I didn't mean —"

"Shhh. We're just us now. Stop me if it's not comfortable, but let me teach you things you don't know. Alright?"

She didn't say anything but she did flick my left nipple with her index finger and she did drag her hand across the hairy expanse of my chest.

I knelt and undid her pants, sliding them over her hips to the floor but leaving the panties on. I stood up and said "Will you?"

She fumbled with my belt, then quickly opened the button at the top and undid the zipper. My pants hit the floor and we stood across eight inches of nothingness from each other.

"Stacy, I —"

"It's okay, I'll go first," and she hooked her thumbs in my jockeys, pulling them down until she saw that she had caught my erection. She corrected the elastic and my jockeys dropped on top of my pants. Stacy inhaled a little as she saw my erect cock and the exuberant mass of my pubic hair and balls. She kept her hands to herself.

I reached for the back of her bra and released the catch. She shrugged her shoulders and the bra was on the floor. She exhaled and reflexively crossed her arms. I gently took each of her hands and drew them down to her sides, revealing the two melon-sized breasts.

"You're lovely, Stacy, show me everything, I want to see you all."

I moved my hands to her white panties, pulling them down and off in one motion. Instead of standing up I kissed her left thigh and felt her tremble. I brought my hands up the backs of her legs and fondled her buttocks.

"They feel lovely now, and so free. Stacy, stand back and let me see you all."

Her waist was thick, but not unpleasant. Her bush was trim and her outer lips showed through. Her posture made her breasts and belly stand out. Her hair kept falling in her face. She looked uncertain, perhaps confused, but I saw no fear in her eyes.

"Come lay with me," moving her toward the mattress on the floor. The linens were fresh, even to the pillowcases.

"Peter, this is new for me. Will you be careful? I'm so nervous, I'm shaking like a leaf. I feel so simple, I want to run away, I —"

"You're okay, we're here together. It's just us and our bodies."

She had an uncertain look on her face but seemed willing. I moved her down onto the mattress, then stood over her with my cock bouncing slightly for her to see. The uncertain look changed to a stare and she licked her lips.

I lay down beside her and we kissed heatedly. She ran her fingers all over my hairy face. I put one leg over her hips so that my cock pushed against her.

"Peter, I'm scared. Not of you, but I don't want to get pregnant. Will it be okay?"

"I have condoms if we need them, but let's do it naturally if we can. When is your period due?"

"Early next week. I'm regular as clockwork," she said proudly.

"Then you're completely safe, Stacy. You can't get pregnant; your fertile period has passed for the month."

This news changed her whole demeanor, from an uncommitted observer of her own seduction to an active participant in her own deflowering. I moved my leg off and lifted her left leg so that her pussy was accessible and slipped my finger into her. She gasped.

"No one's ever —"

"And now someone has," I said, making a show of removing my finger out and licking the juices.

"Can I — "

"Sure," and I brought her a new finger's worth. She closed her eyes before she licked. She savored herself. "I've always wondered if it had a taste and how it smelled."

"Now you know. Oh Stacy, there's so much more, so much more."

I was starting to get incoherent because I was holding back so much. Since she wasn't resisting anything I did, there was really no point in waiting, but I had built up in my own mind that I should be educational, gentle, and kind.

"I'm going to position myself for you, Stacy. Here, open your legs and let me kneel there."

As I got into position, Stacy reached out for my cock. The precum had flowed and I sensed her surprise as the dampness.

"Stacy, lick your fingers really well and slide them over the top of my cock, get it really wet."

Of course if she was vigorous about this then I'd cum in three strokes, so I guided her up the shaft and just lightly to the head, laying on as much saliva as possible without causing me to explode.

"Okay, Stacy, I'm going to go inside you. Tell me how you feel as I get there."

"Okay, okay, oookay, ooooh, ooooh, yessss, that's nice, ohhhhh, OUCH," she said, and I pulled back. I'd barely got half the head inside.

"Did it hurt much?" I asked, anxiously.

"Not really, it was just a surprise. That's my hymen, right?"

"Yes, that's it. We'll keep going and stretch it, slowly."

How was I going to hold out? I moved into position and this time Stacy guided my cock to the entrance. The head was completely inside before she cried out again, and again I stopped, lowering myself.

"Hurt too much?"

"Yes. Well, not too much, but I really feel this resistance."

"We could just do it all at once and get it over with."

"Yes, I think that's good. It's going to happen sooner or later, so let's do it now."

Again she guided my cock in. I felt her tense as I got to the depth I'd been before. I paused, unsure of her, and she said "NOW Peter, NOW," and arched toward me. I thrust and she grunted, but I was completely inside her. I stopped and looked down at her.

The flush was still there and her jaw was clamped to the end of the pillowcase. Sweat was all over her face. Her hands were flat against the mattress and her eyes were intently focused on me.

"We're there, Stacy," I said.

She looked up. "Is there anything else?" she asked.

"Oh my god, yes, yes, oh there really is, let me take your there," and I withdrew slightly. Her eyes opened wide and she grabbed my back to hold me, not wanting to lose my cock. I stopped, and then moved forward.

"When I move in, you rise to meet me. When I move out, you drop down. Not big distances, keep me inside you, you can hold my ass if you want. I'll start slowly, you tell me how it feels."

After a couple of thrusts and close calls, we got the rhythm going. She wiggled her hips from side to side and said "fuck" a couple of times. I was ready to explode and told her so. "Do it Peter, do it in me, I really want you to do it."

And I did. "I'm cumming, it's there, oh Stacy, oh Stacy, it's all there."

I collapsed beside her, being careful to stay inside. Suddenly she bucked. I was unprepared for this, so my cock slid out of her. "Oh no, Peter, put it back! Put it back!" I pushed my softening organ in and it stayed longer than I expected before sliding out.

We lay in each others arms and I drifted. Then I heard her crying.

"No Stacy, don't cry, it's fine. What's wrong?"

She caught her breath and said "You don't like me, I did it all wrong. You cummed and then you left me. And now you'll drop me, I know it, I know it," and she started to sob.

"Stacy, it's not true, none of it is. When I came it was the height of my passion. Your fucking exhausted me, you did that to me, it's a good thing for lovers to do that to each other. You had an orgasm; a virgin never has an orgasm the first time. That means you're going to be a wonderful lover. We're going to the Parthenon, the Acropolis, and the top of the world in bed when we get to Greece."

I held her and gradually her sobs subsided. I was chilly since the air conditioning vent was right over us, so I got up to get the blanket from my bunk. We had cum all over us and there was a large bloody spot on the sheet.

"Don't go Peter, don't go, please stay."

"Stacy, I'm just getting a blanket to keep us both warm and a washcloth to clean us off. The air conditioning kicked on, we'll freeze otherwise."

"Oh Peter, I'm sorry, I'm being clingy. Thank you for thinking of me."

I ran the warm water on the facecloth and brought it and the blanket to her. She was just starting to shiver. I washed her thighs and bush and got as much of the cum and blood off the sheets as I could. After washing out the facecloth, I did myself.

I couldn't see my alarm clock with my glasses off, but I felt like we'd been here for days. It was only 1445, but we'd missed lunch. I slid under the blanket, next to her warmth.

"I did have an orgasm, I felt it."

"Have you had orgasms before?" I asked, wanting to see if we had established a deeper intimacy.

"Yes, I've, uh, played with myself sometimes. It feels really good, but this was different."

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