Summer Sex and Summer Love

This is more of a stroke story than anything terribly serious. In spite of the first person narrative, it is a work of fiction; it is not biographical. There are always snippets of truth and fact in any work of fiction. I've tried to give my characters thoughts and words which fit the time, the place and their situations.

In my last summer of graduate school, I scored a real coup. I was picked with another guy for a heaven-sent student assistance job. The two of us were responsible for conducting a workshop/lab in the technical, "hands-on" aspects of our major. As it turned out, the professor pretty much left us alone. He'd known us since we had been freshmen undergrads and trusted us implicitly. He would come by the workshop once or twice each afternoon but never hung out for long.

The class met four day a week for three hours a day. For twelve hours of work per week, I got paid many times over what I could have made in a typical part time college job in retail. It more than paid my tuition and fees for the summer session. We also received full credit for six semester hours in our major. For me, it meant that along with the two other classes I was taking, I could graduate with my Masters at the end of summer term. It doesn't get much better than that.

Well, actually, it did. For some reason the summer session of this particular workshop had eighty percent girls. Out of eighteen students, fourteen were female. At least half of them were comely. Since it was summer in the mid-South and often messy work, everyone wore shorts and very casual attire.

I had a motorcycle in those days; it was cheap to operate and you could park much closer to the campus buildings than you could have in a car. I wasn't dating anyone in particular; my main squeeze from the previous term didn't stay over for the summer and that relationship had seen better days in any event.

The two of us selected to teach the workshop were both good looking young guys and the ratio of girls to guys in summer session that year drastically favored the men. There was a lot of flirting going on during the first class. A number of the girls had come in from other universities in the state system or even private schools to take electives not offered at their own campuses. I guess they rationalized that if they hooked up with some guy for the summer, they'd never run into him again and it wouldn't get back to their regular boy friends, future husbands or whatever.

I had my eye on one or two from the first five minutes. Both were my type: tall, slender, bright, quick-witted brunettes. On the other hand one of the other girls, a short, buxom, sexy, cute and slightly nasty blond had already made her choice. She flirted shamelessly and found lots of opportunities to touch. She had easy-fuck written all over her face. I wasn't looking for a wife. I succumbed to her charms.

She was staying at a rented cottage about fifteen minutes outside of town. Such accommodations were very common in that college town and far preferable to many of the grubby apartments closer to campus---as long as you had transportation. She didn't have a car; she had a regular ride to campus each day from her roommate who had a car but since the workshop ran from two to five, she didn't really have a plan for the return trip.

Apparently if she couldn't get a ride home, she'd call the roommate but said roommate had made it clear that it had better not become a daily occurrence. So, she asked me if I could give her a ride home. As it turned out, the cottage I was renting was on the way and hers wasn't more than five minutes farther on. She seemed pleased, not put out by the fact that I had a motorcycle.

I was living alone although my main squeeze had lived there with me the previous semester. When she has gone home she had taken all of her stuff out of the apartment. There was every indication that our relationship was over. I was graduating and she still had another year of undergraduate work. She was not interested in living that far from campus alone the following year.

So, that's the history. Much of the rest of this story is stroke and relates to the high points of that summer. As is my fashion, there is a romance but maybe not the one you are expecting at first---nor the one I was expecting.

"Are you sure you don't mind?"

"Not at all; it's not that far out of my way."

"Look, my roommate loves to cook---more than I do. Why don't you come over and we'll cook dinner for you?"

"That would be a treat; I'm getting tired of frozen dinners. I do know how to cook but it's just not worth it to cook for myself. Are you sure your roommate won't mind?"

"I already asked her; she was just thrilled to find out I had a ride and she didn't have to come pick me up. She loves cooking for others. We found each other through a service. We didn't know each other before we became roommates. We don't go to the same college. We don't have much in common."

"Okay, that sounds great! If I'm coming to dinner, though, I need to stop at my place and catch a quick shower and put on clean clothes. It won't take ten minutes. Are you okay with that?"

"Sure," she said with a grin. "I can entertain myself for ten minutes."

She climbed on the back of my bike, shoved her body tightly against mine and put her arms around me to hold on. Her hands were initially at my belt line. Long before we got to my place they were decidedly lower than my belt line. I had a raging hard-on by the time we dismounted.

"You live alone?" she asked as we walked inside.

"At least for the summer; I used to have a roommate. She's not here for the summer and since this is my last summer here...let's just say that it was fun while it lasted but it was already fading."

"I'm sorry."

"No need to be! We parted amiably. It just made sense. I'm going to hop in the shower. There's beer in the fridge. Make yourself comfortable."

I had no doubt that I'd fuck her. I didn't think it would be on that first day or night. I seriously considered jerking off in the shower---even started the process. I stopped when I figured out I didn't really have time to enjoy it. So there I was with a massive boner in hand when she slipped through the shower curtain without a stitch. She moved behind me, pushed her bushy little twat into my ass, reached around with both hands to grab my cock and balls and spoke.

"I feel really dirty...in more ways than one." she said, stroking my cock appreciatively. "Want me to wash your back?" she asked almost innocently. Without waiting for a response she began soaping up a washcloth.

I hadn't had my back washed for some time. She gave me the full body treatment, to include a persistent finger up my shitter. She told me to turn around and she completed the process with the same attention to detail she had demonstrated on my other side.

"Your turn!" she said, handing me the soap and washcloth and turning around. She pushed that ample bubble butt in my direction and I returned the favor. Fortunately I always kept my nails trimmed very close. She moaned and whimpered when my fingers found her folds and slipped inside. I turned her around and washed her front, giving special attention to those proud, full titties and ensured that she experienced the ultimate in feminine hygiene. Her head went over her shoulder. Her hands were on my cock. The fingers of one of my hands were in that hairy blond bush. First one, then two fingers of the other hand were soon first-knuckle deep in her rectum. Her breathing increased sharply and she came quickly.

Wordlessly she squatted on her haunches and began to blow me with few preliminaries. She was very good at it. I came quickly. She gulped down my load as if starved for protein. She didn't stop the oral ministrations until she was damn sure she'd gotten all. She stood up and we kissed. I was young enough to still be rock hard. I wanted some pussy. I started moving my cock around the entrance to her pink, wet orifice.

"No." she said. "I'm not on the pill---makes me sick and bloated. I use a diaphragm---which I don't have with me. I hate rubbers, but..."

"I don't have any."

"But, you were living with a girl..."

"Monogamously for almost a year and she was on the pill."

"Have you ever done it the other way....you know...in the ass?"

"Once or twice...you?"

"Once or twice...but it wasn't that great. Do you want to try it?"

"Sure. But we're about to run out of hot water and the lubricant is in the bedroom."

"You fucked the girl you were living with that way?"

"A few times; generally when we'd had a little too much to drink."

"Just go slow---and stop if I tell you to. I haven't had anything to drink."

She ended up on her side; I slid in behind her and worked several lubed fingers in her tiny little hole. She leaned back and kissed me; she was a hell of a kisser.

"Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," she said with some trepidation.

I went slow, waiting for her to give the right signals that said I should continue. She had to have had a third of a bottle of lube up in there. She had recently cum. I stroked and nuzzled her back. The penetration went surprisingly smoothly. I started to rock back and forth slipping a little deeper with each stroke. Her fingers fell to her folds almost instinctively. Her breathing increased as did mine. Such a hot, tight little damn-near virgin ass.

"Are you pretty close?" she whispered.

"I could cum any time."

"Okay...then you can go faster...and deeper...just cum...okay?"

I wordlessly did as she had asked, cumming within a minute. Her fingers, combined with my cock in her ass, ensured that she did so seconds later. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen before. Her entire body trembled and shook. Her anal muscle clamped down on me so hard I thought she was going to slice it off. She screamed loud enough to make me damn glad I didn't have close neighbors. My dick plopped out of her ass and she jumped on top of me, kissing me furiously and rubbing those ample tits against my chest.

"I've never cum like that before---ever! At first I wasn't sure I'd like it but by the end it was better...a lot better...than my most recent experiences...the regular way."

"It certainly worked for me. You were very relaxed. We took it slow and I used lots of lube and that position tends to be more comfortable."

"Not to be too graphic, but I took a dump before we left campus and you did do a pretty thorough job of...cleaning. It sure does save a lot of trouble! I hate the diaphragm and that messy jelly. It just kills the mood."

I kissed her and we stayed like that for a while. She spoke first.

"Look, I need to be honest with you. I've been dating the same guy for the last three years. We're practically engaged. I'll undoubtedly marry him when I graduate. My parents are very fond of him. He's from a very good family in the small mill town we both grew up in. We'll move back there and probably stay for the rest of our lives. I've never done anything like this before. I lied; I'd never even tried anal...although I've played around back there on my own---on occasion. You are only the second guy I've ever had sex with in spite of the way I came across. I just decided I didn't want to be one of those girls who gets married to the first guy she ever sleeps with and never finds out...you know.

"I enjoyed it a lot; I didn't have to fake an orgasm---that was a first. I'd like to do it again with you...on a regular basis? But at the end of the summer...we're going to go our separate ways. He's---my boy friend---in ROTC summer camp; he's not going to show up one day for a visit. Look, I'll even try the pill again if you want me to---I've got a six month supply. And I do have the diaphragm."

"Let's just take it one day at a time. I enjoyed it a lot and, bluntly, I'm not looking for anything past a summer fling. So...sure...I guess we can give it a shot."

The dinner a couple of hours later was fun. Her roommate, whose name was Jennifer...I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce the buxom blonde. The blonde's name was Polly. In any event, Jennifer was a tall, large boned girl who it would seem had already found summer companionship of her own, another undergrad from a different college elsewhere in the state. We actually became summer friends and the four of us went out together occasionally. As the summer went on, I sensed that Jennifer and her beau, Gary, probably would continue the relationship following the end of the summer. They just seemed to be hitting it off.

Polly's home town was a little over an hour away via interstate. Most weekends she went home, either taking the bus or catching a ride with someone else from her home town. She would generally spend Monday through Thursday night at my place. I wouldn't see her during most of the day until she arrived for the workshop . She was not remotely clingy and certainly never got jealous if I paid attention to the other girls in the class.

It was in retrospect an odd relationship. She'd clearly laid out the ground rules and its temporary nature. She was a fun girl to spend time with and the sex just got better and better. On a few occasions it became quite tender. Following those occasions it got even more adventurous. It was as if Polly was pushing back against any possibility of it becoming more than what she wanted it to be---a summer fling---and I didn't fight it. We never argued or fought about anything; we never got close enough emotionally to do so.

I had absolutely no inclination to break it off. I was getting fucked an average of four nights a week by a very attractive, horny and increasingly creative young woman. We didn't really have much in common and over the years as I've looked back, I knew there couldn't possibly have been any future for us---not that either one of us seemed so inclined.

Although I think we were reasonably discreet I'm sure at least some of the other students in the workshop knew we had paired off for the summer. There was another girl in the class that had caught my eye from day one. Had Polly not made her move, I would definitely have pursued someone else.

Diane was a tall, slightly olive skinned beauty with short, shiny brown hair which moved when her head moved. She had a maturity and a no-nonsense air about her that said she probably wouldn't have been interested in a summer fling. We remember the little things. I remember helping her with some project and in doing so holding her hands. She had the most beautiful hands I'd ever seen and her skin had a soft almost viscous quality. Her complexion was flawless. She didn't have a toothy grin or even smile overly frequently but when she did smile...it took your breath away.

As it turned out, Diane was taking a class in the morning that was right next to one I was taking. We chatted often during the breaks and by the end of the first week were having lunch together almost every day. Diane was to be a senior at a private college in a city about a hundred miles away. I had assumed she was from money; her college was private and expensive. I eventually found out she had received a full scholarship; her parents, while not paupers, were of modest means.

In the two months or so that we met for lunch four days a week, we never really flirted. Maybe she assumed that Polly and I were a more serious item than we in fact were. We never talked about it nor did we ever talk about anyone with whom she might have been involved. She wasn't involved with anyone that summer: of that I am certain. She let a comment slip here and there which indicated that she knew I had some sort of relationship with Polly but never pursued it.

We both were in the same field of study; she was very bright, very well read and very well educated. Most of the time we talked "shop". We also talked about art, music, literature, life, hopes, dreams and growing up. I have to say I looked forward to those lunches every bit as much as I looked forward to fucking Polly. As the summer drew to a close, probably even more so.

Polly became almost insatiable. It was if I had unleashed some demon inside her. She never did start taking the pills. A few times she would insert her diaphragm. She hated condoms as much as I did. We took some chances after carefully scrutinizing her personal calendar which wasn't particularly smart. For the most part, Polly had come to prefer it in the ass.

She laughingly told me one day that her husband-to-be had taught her how to suck cock and that if the truth were told, he'd rather get a BJ than fuck. He had shown no interest in anal and, with the pregnancy issues, their sex life was decidedly oral and not terribly adventurous. She loved the guy and knew she would be his wife. The sex was okay just not great from her perspective. He wasn't into anything kinky, didn't really like the lights on, wasn't a talker and preferred to keep it in the bedroom. I guess in retrospect Polly wanted to do everything she could think of that she'd probably never get a chance to do again. I sometimes wondered if she had a book on sex and we were going through the chapters.

I'm certain that there is nothing we didn't do sexually that summer short of the really bizarre. We did it inside and outside; we explored her sexual fantasies and the girl had a fertile imagination.

We had just arrived back at my place after class. "Wait here! I've got something I want to show you," she said one day a couple of weeks before the end of the term.

There was a knock at the door a few minutes later. To my surprise it was Polly who had evidently climbed out the window. She was wearing a facsimile of a scout uniform right down to the box of cookies. She had on bobby sox and her hair was in braids. The skirt was tight and short and her boobs were bursting out of the blouse.

"Hello, sir! May I come in? I want you to sample my cookies." She skipped into the room and proceeded to flop down on the sofa. The skirt rode up her thigh; the thighs opened and she flashed the beaver. I could have dispensed with the game and just boned her right there but she loved the games. I took the lead since she had set the stage.

"Little girl, you shouldn't be in here with me alone. Something bad could happen to you. Look at you! Showing your little pussy to a strange man like that. Have you no shame?"

"I'm sorry. I don't know what gets I into me sometimes. I just get all hot inside...all over...but particularly in my teeny-tiny little cunt." Her fingers quickly moved between her legs.

"Stop that, young lady! You are a bad little girl. You need to be punished...spanked. Stand up! That's right, now bend over the arm of this chair. Where are your panties, you dirty little slut?"

"I forgot 'em."

"That is not the way a young lady is supposed to act. Bend over now. Now hold that skirt up. I'm not sure my hand is going to do the trick. I think you need the belt!"

We'd played spanking games before but I'd never used anything other than my hands. Looking back I'm almost ashamed at how much it excited me to watch her fleshy little butt quiver as I laid into her with the leather. I was ready to quit after three pretty good swats. She wasn't. The belt had to hurt, although it was wide enough and doubled over so it didn't break the flesh or leave any lasting marks. On the sixth stroke, she came with a scream without any assistance from her talented fingers.

She rolled over onto the floor; her skirt was hiked up and her hairy little muff was glistening.

"Do you want to lick my nasty little cunt, mister?"

With no more ado I removed my trousers and began to stroke my raging boner. She threw me an evil grin. I picked her up off the floor and threw her on the sofa. I positioned her with her knees over the back, butt up against the back cushion and head hanging over the front edge.