The "Odd Job" Girl

She climbed off the bed and with a smile unfastened her white belt, let it drop to the floor, and then began unbuttoning her dress. She let the dress slip to the floor, and I realized for the first time that maybe she did dress for me after all. She was wearing a matching pair of white underwear, bra and panties, with lace.

"That looks brand new—and expensive," I said.

"It is. I bought it specially for this. Would you like to take it off?" She turned around.

I stepped forward, unhooked her bra and let it drop. "Now turn around."

She did so as I got down on my knees. I took the waistband of her panties and slowly pulled them down, revealing her beautiful brown bush. I leaned forward, cupped her bottom with my hands, pulled her forward and planted a warm kiss on her bush—and the downy lips beneath it.

"Ummmm," she sighed.

I stood up, picked her up again and threw her on the bed. Then I got on the bed with her, took her ankles and spread her legs. "I'm going to go down on you, as you call it, and I'm not going to stop until you come—in my mouth."

"That sounds wonderful." She looked over at the window, the blinds of which were open. "Can anyone see us?"

"I certainly hope so. The only person living next door is Mr. Cohen, an old man of about 85. But if he happens to be watching, this is his lucky day."

She laughed.

I read in a magazine once that a good way to perform oral sex on a woman is to write your name with your tongue on her clitoris. I did that, but then I also added the complete Gettysburg Address, until she was moaning and whimpering.

"Oh Goddddd!" she finally cried as she came with a lifting of her hips, and I felt her suddenly grow wetter.

Finally, she sat up. "That was the best orgasm I have ever had in my life."

"Good. I'm flattered."

"You should be. Since Roger has already left to get set up at Johns Hopkins, how would you like an 18-year-old girlfriend for the summer?"

"My God, that would be the best thing that ever happened to me. This research might take a little longer than I thought."

"I agree. At least until September."

I looked down at her bush. "You look nice and juicy. It would be a shame to waste all that fine lubrication."

"What do you have in mind?"

I looked up at her. "How would you like to get fucked?"

She laughed. "Why Mr. Baxter, I didn't know you used language like that."

"I do when I'm inspired."

"Can I be on top?"

"Of course."

"And you don't have to use anything because I'm on the pill."

"Good."

"But aren't you going to take your clothes off?"

"No. I'm going to be fully dressed, and you're going to be completely naked."

"Okay."

I laid down on the bed and she straddled me. "Are you going to take it out?" she asked.

"You can do that."

"All right." She unzipped me and took it out. It was more than three-quarters erect. "Can I suck it to make it bigger?"

"Please do."

And she did—until it was a lot bigger. Then she moved forward a little and gently impaled herself on it, sliding down slowly. Then she slowly started going up and down and back and forth. I knew she wanted it to last, so that's what I did, with her help. We managed to hold off for 35 minutes before she came.

"Oh Godddd!" she cried, and I felt her lower lips clench me as I came too, deep inside her.

"Wow," she finally said, "You are the greatest lover ever. I should be paying you."

"In a sense you are. You are the best sex partner I ever had."

And that's how it went for the rest of the summer. She came over for two hours every Monday and Friday. I couldn't think of any more questions to ask her, so we just spent most of the time sucking and fucking—in every place and position we could think of. Even through the back door.

You may be thinking at this point: How does at 67-year-old man satisfy an 18-year-old girl? Quite simply: With a visit to the doctor to ask for some Viagra samples.

"What about your heart?" he asked.

"What about it? I'm enjoying something that very few men my age ever get to experience." I didn't elaborate, but he gave me the samples.

They do work, by the way.

I thought our "research" would end at the end of the summer, but it didn't. I booked a hotel room in Boston and visited her several times during the school year to "catch up" on our research.

End