The Shot-Putter's Sister

"I'll do the away mixers," I volunteered.

The Key Society was a junior-class service group whose role was to provide activity leadership for the student body. Each member had to take on a project, so I volunteered to organize several out-of-Hanover mixers: promote the event, sell the tickets, rent the bus, keep order to and from the women's college, and make sure everyone got back safely.

The third mixer, in February, to Simmons College in Boston, was routine except that I met a terrific girl and nearly missed the bus.

Livinia was one of the Simmons chaperones for the mixer. She was sitting off to the side, keeping an eye on the hall in general and on the punch bowl in particular (to make sure no one spiked it). We talked about how much fun it was to people-watch eager freshmen at mixers.

She was a library science major, a junior like me, with aspirations to travel. She was 12 when her family fled Hungry after the 1956 revolution. Her family now lived on an estate outside Boston where her father was the caretaker.

My suburban upbringing was pretty white-bread. The most exotic people I knew were Seventh-Day Adventists and Jews, while the largest land tracts were country clubs. My attraction was both to her and to her story.

I asked if I could see her next week when I was coming to Boston (that is, I wanted to see her and would come to Boston to do so). She said yes and gave me her telephone number. I found a ride to Boston and made arrangements with a friend at Harvard to stay there on Saturday night. Livi and I would meet for dinner in Harvard Square at 7.

I got to the restaurant first and told the waiter that there would be a girl looking for me. Livi came through the door about 10 minutes later, dressed in the uniform of the era — full skirt, boots, and puffy parka. She turned heads with her full head of long hair that trailed down her back outside her parka.

We sparked immediately. She was full of reading Diderot's Encyclopedie in the original. Livi took the ideals of the Enlightenment seriously and found the reading was greatly improving her French.

We were so engaged with each other that the waiter twice had to made it clear that he wanted the table for the next customers and that we should take our conversation elsewhere.

I paid the bill and we went to a coffee house on Brattle Street. It was early and the room was pretty empty, so we got a cozy spot and kept on talking. As the place filled up and the din got overwhelming, Livi suggested we go back to her house.

She lived in a cooperative house with 5 other women students, not all from Simmons. Meals were cooked in a common kitchen and everyone took a role in maintaining the place. The living room furniture was broken-down couches, floor lamps, and threadbare rugs, but it was clean.

We made tea and talked and suddenly it was 1 a.m. I got a good-night handshake and headed back to Cambridge with an invitation to breakfast at 8 the next morning.

Like most college students at that hour, the breakfasters were glassy-eyed and drowsy. Not Livi. She presided over the kitchen with fresh-baked sweet rolls, strong coffee and stronger tea, cold cereal and warm milk. Only the early riser knew that I hadn't spent the night with Livi, so there was some wariness between me and them.

After breakfast Livi and I went over to Simmons and she showed me around. She took me to the library where she had the two volumes of the Encyclopedie that she was reading in a locked study room. They were in pretty good shape for 200-year old books, though the binding was shaken. She turned the pages, showing me some of the typographic elements that were new in that era's printing.

I took her hand and raised it to my lips and kissed it.

"Oh, Peter, do not do that, please," she said.

"Why?"

"My parents are very old-fashioned. I must go home every weekend to visit and they want to know what I am doing. I have got to tell them about our meeting. I like you but they are suspicious of American college men."

"So take me to meet them."

"You would meet my parents?!"

"Would they hurt me?" I teased.

"Not unless you hurt me first," she deadpanned.

And then we kissed. She hesitated as I moved close to her but didn't resist. The smell of the breakfast rolls was in her hair.

"I have not much experience with kissing, Peter."

"I will teach you. But first I should meet your parents."

"And tell them?!" she said, apprehensively.

"Not about this, but yes, I would like to show them that I like their daughter. Will that be okay? I can come to Boston in two weeks."

She checked her calendar. "That would be good. There is a mixer on that Saturday and I am the chaperone for the first half. We can meet in the morning and go to Braintree."

"Okay." Then I said "May I kiss you again?"

"Yes," she said, "that would be nice."

We necked for an hour. Livi insisted we be very quiet and she broke off regularly to listen for anyone nearby. At first she kissed tentatively and was very hesitant when I started something new. Since there was only one chair and the room was small, we either stood or she sat on my lap. She had a delicious smell close up, one I had never experienced. My erection must have been obvious but she never acknowledged it.

After we kissed on the mouth for a while, I kissed up her arm and had her roll up my sleeve to do the same. Livi followed my lead in using her tongue but would not initiate anything else. I didn't even consider going for her breasts.

I had to meet my ride at noon, so I asked if she was hungry. "I am from Hungry, but I am a Hungarian," she said. Family joke, I thought to myself.

We walked back to Harvard Square and she introduced me to a small café where we had a light meal. I got a peck on the cheek and shortly was on the road.

I had only ridden the T around the Harvard area, so the excursion to Braintree was a revelation. As the trackside scenery changed from urban to suburban to exurban, Livi pointed out Revolutionary War locations and several homes of historical figures.

Her family lived in the caretaker's house on a once-grand estate. Now it was only about 20 acres, but the owner wanted it kept up. Livi's older brother Henrik had gone to California for college and now lived in San Francisco.

The other brother, Vilmus, had been a member of the 1960 U.S. Olympic team in the shot put and had been selected for the 1964 squad. He was an intimidating man to look at but up close was warm and very funny. He was a graduate student at Northeastern and lived at home.

We ate a hot lunch and her mother fussed over Livi and her "beau." Her father showed me around, noting particularly the many outbuildings that no longer were needed, like the 12-stall stable and the massive greenhouse. The swimming pool was constructed of round stones and, this being winter, had a log in the water to keep it from cracking. The main house was in the Greek Revival style and Mr. Kalocsai said it needed more attention than he could give it.

As we walked I asked him how he had come to the estate. He said that a cousin who worked there was in need of a helper. Since there were two Kalocsai teenage boys to help as well, he was hired. The cousin got a better job, so within two years he was in charge of the whole place.

"My daughter is an American," he said. "We keep the old values here, but she wants to be like Henrik and move away. I do not want her to do so, but what can you do?" He shrugged. "Her mother and I do what we can to keep her close. I am glad she brought you to meet us."

We parted when we got back to Boston: Livi to her house to change for the mixer, me to the room at a hotel near the college that I had taken for the night, to change into a coat and tie. The mixer started on time and by 9, when her replacement chaperone arrived, we were free to leave.

"Would you like to get dinner?" I asked, as we walked from the building.

She paused. "I want to be with you, Peter, but I am afraid of my urges. Will you stop me if I am too forward?"

"No I won't. But we will do what we do together, not what one or the other wants."

The room had two double beds. We cuddled, then began caressing each other. I rolled her on top of me and she sat up, straddling my hips. "From this perspective you look very different," she said.

"Do you like what you see?"

"Yes, Peter, I do." Part of what she had to see was the bulge of my pants, but she gave no hint of that. I reached for her breasts and she tensed, but didn't push my hands away.

"I'd like you beside me, it's easier that way," I said. She giggled, said "for me also," and lay down. I opened the top button of her blouse and she sighed. The second button undid itself but the third button was impossible as the blouse was pulled tight by the position she was in.

"Livi, will you shift yourself so I can open this?" She adjusted and I opened all the buttons down to her skirt.

"You're lovely, you have wonderful skin," I said. "May I touch you?"

"Yessssss," she breathed, and I ran my hands across her belly and around to her back. Suddenly she sat up.

"Peter, this is going too far. I want to stop now. Please do not agree with me." Puzzled, I wondered if she was getting her syntax mixed up. She continued, "I told you my urges might get strong. Now they are. Will you guide me?"

"Oh yes Livi, I want that very much." We stood up and I removed her blouse. She shivered and stood ramrod straight. Her breasts, even through her bra, looked firm and full. We kissed and I moved her hand to pluck at my shirt buttons. As she opened them I reached behind her and unhooked her bra. She started and pulled back.

"Too soon?" I said. "Yes, it is okay." Her bra dangled from her shoulders and her breasts were swinging free. She shrugged it off.

After I took off my shirt, I brought her back to the bed and again she was on top. This time when she sat up I reached for her breasts and caressed them. For her part, Livi leaned over and kissed my nipples.

This initiative surprised me, and I exhaled and moaned softly.

"Is it okay? Did I hurt you?"

"Oh no, Livi, it is very nice. I love the softness of your lips. Please do it again."

I moved her down my chest to my navel and she frenched it, then blew air into it. I jumped at the experience and squealed.

"Oh Peter, I am sorry, I hurt you."

"No, no, Livi, you cannot hurt me with your tongue and lips. This is wonderful, I am so excited by you."

She had come to my belt buckle, and hesitated.

"Livi, touch me there," I said, pointing to the tent in my pants. I jumped at the promptness of her response and the firmness of her grasp, in part because my cock was wedged in my jockeys so that it hurt.

"Oh I am so sorry, I hurt you," she said.

"No, no, no, I was just startled. I like it very much. Please do it again."

She probably wasn't going to go any further without guidance, so I asked her to lie down beside me and as she did so I freed my cock from the twisted jockeys. I kissed her breasts and she began to breathe deeper and lick her lips.

Her hand went to my erection but didn't do anything. I got up and took off her shoes and socks, then. I took off my shoes and socks. I was at the end of the bed, looking down at her.

Her skirt was bunched at her waist, revealing her white panties; her chest was bare; and her hair was spread out across the pillow. I was beginning to undo my belt when she sat up and said "Let me."

She finished the belt, unzipped my fly, and unhooked the slacks. They fell to the floor, leaving just my briefs between her face and my erection. She stood up, spun her skirt around, unzipped it, and let it fall to the floor. We faced each other: she unsure, me aroused. I pulled her to me and we kissed. I entered her mouth with my tongue and met hers going in the opposite direction.

"Can I finish you?" I practically begged.

"We must do it with each other," said Livi, and she knelt and pulled my briefs down and off. She stood and reached out for my cock, touched my balls, and dragged her hand up to my face.

"You feel strong," she said.

As I bent down to remove her panties, she put her hands on my shoulders to steady herself as she lifted first one leg, then the other to get out. Her pussy smelled musky, a smell I loved, and I moved my tongue to her slit. She jumped.

"Oh Peter, what is that you are doing?"

"My tongue is like your hand. It will explore you." She shivered.

As we lay down beside each other on the bed, Livi took my face in her hands. "I have not much experience with a man. I have never been with a man. I will give myself to you tonight if you are gentle and promise not to make me pregnant."

"Livi, you're wonderful. Your body is pulling me to you. You're strong, you come from a strong family. If you will let me, I will guide you to places you have never been before. Will you let me?"

"Yes. Please be gentle with me. Please do not make me pregnant."

I placed her hand on my erection. "This is my cock. The shaft has little feeling but the head is very sensitive. Please kiss it."

She shifted her body and kissed my shaft tentatively, and it bobbed away. I took her hand to it and urged her to keep it steady, then kiss the head. She moved for the shaft, then reconsidered and moved to the top.

"Oh, kiss it, please," I said. After she did so, I said "Now roll you tongue around it and make it moist."

At some point she must have decided to give herself permission to do what she was going to do with enthusiasm. Holding the shaft steady, she moved her tongue around the head, then took it into her mouth and pulled off with a popping sound. She looked over at me slyly, saw my excitement, and grinned.

"Is that good?"

"Oh yes, that's good. You are very good."

She went back to my cock and took it further into her mouth and rode up and down. Do this to me under these circumstances for two minutes and I'll explode, so I stopped her.

"That's too nice. Let me show you something else."

I rolled her on her back and opened her legs. "This is your pussy," I said, running my hand through her bush. "And this — " I licked my finger and stroked her button, which was visible through the folds of her skin — "is your clitoris, your clit. Your vaginal opening is where we make love" and I licked my finger again and inserted it. "Oooooh," said Livi each time I touched a part.

"Have you ever touched yourself there?"

"When I put in my tampon I have felt around. And yes" — she blushed deeply — "I have played with my clit as you call it. It excites me very much. But I have never put my finger in my vagina as you did."

"Do you feel yourself getting wet there?"

"Yes, when I am excited with my clit, I feel wet. Very much like I am now."

"Then I am going to bring you pleasure. Tell me what feels good and I will follow your desires. Don't hold back, we are lovers. Tell me what you like. I will use my fingers and my mouth."

For the next half hour I plumbed her pussy with my tongue and one, two, and finally three fingers. Twice she had an orgasm, which she said (at first shyly but then proudly) she had self-induced before "but never your way."

The second orgasm came as I was working her with my tongue, lying between her legs. She bucked up and squeezed my head until it nearly burst. She thrashed and said "Peter! Peter!" and a lot of words that were probably Hungarian.

"Your orgasms are wonderful. You have cum," I said.

"Cum?"

"Yes, that's what it is called when you have an orgasm. When I have an orgasm I also ejaculate my sperm. That is also called cum." She nodded and stroked my arm.

Now it was time for the main event. I hadn't been laid in over six months and was really ready. I hadn't expected to be her tutor for this long and I had lost and regained my erection twice. I took a bath towel and had her arch her back as I spread it out beneath her.

"Are you ready to make love, Livi?"

"Oh Peter, yes. But you promised not to make me pregnant."

"You're safe, I have condoms." I rolled one on and knelt between her legs. I'd thought about how to position her for her first time and decided to spread her opening by having her pull her heels up under her buttocks, then open her knees.

Livi was panting as I directed my cock into her. Her juices made it easy at first, and I got the head pretty much in. Suddenly she jumped and let out a cry, digging her nails into my shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Livi. Did it hurt much?"

"It feels like you are pushing very hard against my hymen. Are you?"

"No, I just started." I was undecided what to do next.

"I will bear the pain then. Move your cock into me all at once."

While this was a good idea from my point of view, I wondered if she knew what to expect. One girl I'd discussed first time with said that in retrospect she wished he had just moved all in at once. Another was for the slow approach but still found it painful.

But I'd asked Livi to decide, and she had told me to do it all at once.

She helped me re-place my cock at her opening and kept her hand on the shaft as I moved in slowly. When she began to stiffen I pushed in quickly and was completely buried in her. I was surprised that she hadn't cried out, but then I saw that she had a piece of the bedsheet in her mouth and had bitten down on it. I reached over and caressed her cheek. "Are you okay?"

"Oh Peter, yes, I am okay. That hurt a lot. Will it get better?"

"Yes, I promise you. We'll start to move now." I slowly withdrew until the head was almost at her opening, then slowly slid back. She reflexively raised her hips to meet me and I could see that she understood how to move.

"That's it," I said, "we'll move together." After a couple more slow thrusts and withdrawals she began to move in a wide arc.

"Oh, that is nice. Please do not stop, Peter."

"I will go slowly at first. Tell me how you feel and if I should stop or go faster." We moved well together, and she wanted more pressure as I entered her fully. I spasmed my cock inside her and she responded by gripping me with her legs.

I felt myself tensing and started thrusting faster. Livi swallowed hard and said "You are gong to cum now Peter?"

"Yes, Livi, I am, soon, no, now, now!" and I stiffened and pumped furiously as I spurted hard. She kept up the pace, even when I slowed down, and I had to beg her to stop.

"Oh Livi, you're wonderful."

"Peter, that was wonderful. I never thought this would happen and I am so happy."

We lay facing each other and cuddled. I circled her nipples with my finger and she traced circles in my damp chest hair. She wiped the sweat from my face as I licked it off hers.

I felt myself going soft and showed her how to hold my cock so as not to leave the condom inside her. She grabbed the ring and slid it off me, then knotted it and placed it on the doily of the bedstand.

We got out of bed to pee. She was shy about my being there when she sat down but quickly finished and asked if she could hold my cock when I peed. My slippery organ stirred and she felt it.

"Can we do this again?"

"I like peeing, but fucking is more fun." I said.

"You are making fun of me Peter. I mean fucking of course."

We went back to the bed. The towel had a large red spot on it but the blood had not soaked through. I rinsed it in cold water, then hung it on the shower rod and took another from the rack.

"Will there be more blood?" she asked.

"I don't know, Livi. But there will be much less pain for you, perhaps none at all. We just want to be considerate."

This time Livi rolled the condom on me. She felt only a little twinge as I entered her. I showed her how she could grasp my cock with her vaginal muscles, which she seemed to consider something she should practice. I asked her if she wanted to be on top of me and she said "yes" in a way that said she had never thought of it.