Daisy and the Summer of Love

50 Years. It can't really be 50 years. A lot has happened in the past 50 years.

The Grateful Dead once sang the words, "what a long strange trip it's been." How fitting that I use a quote from a San Fransisco band as I sit in Golden Gate Park, not far from where I was 50 years ago.

Today, I'm a gray haired senior citizen on a retired government pension. I'm sitting on a bench with a laptop and a cup of coffee. Then, I was a naive teenager with shoulder length black hair and no job. I was laying on a blanket with backpacking gear and a bag of apples.

A lot would happen over the past 50 years, especially during the turbulent sixties - some good, some not so good. I remember hearing and seeing accounts of murdered politicians. I remember the daily news stories about the police action happening in Southeast Asia. I remember the great music of that time, which by the way is still with us. I also remember meeting and spending a fantastic weekend with a flower-child named Daisy.

Most men remember three sexual experiences in their lives: One is that first wet dream. Waking up in the middle of the night, swimming in a pool of sperm. An untouched stiff erection just pumping out gobs of warm spunk. Another is the first date with Mary Palm and her five sisters, with or without the help of a nudie magazine. Wave after wave of cascading pleasure with each stroke, followed by an euphoric feeling that seemed to get better with time. The final experience is with the opposite sex. The first time. The act of being intimate with someone is a memory that is never suppressed or forgotten. For me that memory was with Daisy.

June of 1967 found my best friend Paul and me backpacking along the California coast. We were the closest of friends. Our plan was to be a couple of free spirits enjoying life to its fullest. We would experience what we could, when we could. Fresh out of high school, we were going to enjoy the summer before he would enlist and I was off to college.

We first notice the posted signs about the free events in San Francisco while passing through a little farming town south of the bay area. We were headed in that direction, so why not spend a day listening to free music, eating free food, and meeting people like ourselves.

Mark Twain once said, "The coldest winter I ever spent, was a summer in San Francisco!" He was spot on, but this one Saturday the sun was hot and the air temperature warm. The daily fog didn't roll in.

In Golden Gate Park under clear blue skies, near the dark blue water of the bay, we laid out a couple of blankets and used what we were carrying as pillows. Wearing just cut-off jeans, we settled in to enjoy the activities around us. Activities like listening to one musical group playing after another, sharing hits from bongs, and eating fresh fruit. People were friendly, polite, and cordial. A mass of humanity gathered together to embrace life. The entire summer would unfold in a similar manner.

Three beautiful girls and two guys walked passed our blankets weaving their way to the stage before disappearing behind it. About an hour later, one of those girls knelt on my blanket and introduced herself.

On her head was a wreath of daisies. Her eyes were covered by a pair of red heart shaped sunglasses. Her face was without makeup, a mark or a blemish. Her full pouty lips begged to be kissed. Her thin peasant top was the off-the-shoulder type. Her skin was browned by the sun. Her braless breasts moved slightly when she moved. She had an amazing body. I was staring at a vision of loveliness, and she wanted to share my blanket with me.

"My name is Daisy," she began. "My girlfriends and I noticed you guys when we walked to the stage."

"I'll be honest Daisy, we noticed you too."

"Can I stay?"

"Sure, but what about the guys you came here with?"

"Oh, they're just guys we met and crashed at their pad last night. They know the guys in the band that's playing now. We're in town for the weekend. It's so totally cool here-don't you think?"

Daisy would stand and dance to the music being played, then lay down next to me, then disappear for a few minutes. One time she came back with one of her friends, who hit it off with Paul.

I took an apple out of my backpack and offered it to her. After taking a bite, she handed it back and I bit in to it. I could taste her lips. We passed that apple back and forth until just the core remained.

"I need to pee-come with?" she asked. She reached for my hand and helped me up. We headed to the port-a-potties. The lines were long. I noticed a few people ducking into a wooded area near the portable bathrooms. We were holding hands as I led her into this little hide-a-way. On my right were a few guys nonchalantly peeing. Their dicks hanging out for all to see. To my left were girls relieving themselves. They were naked from the waist down, holding their panties in one hand and squatting like baseball catchers.

Daisy stepped out of her long flowing skirt and removed her panties. She too assumed the position and emptied her bladder. I couldn't help noticing that in this five star hotel, the curtains and the carpet were a perfect match. Long and straight golden yellow hair on her head - full and curly golden yellow hair between her legs. There was nothing sexual about the brief nudity on display. These were just people performing a bodily function.

When we returned to the blanket, Daisy faced me and without any prodding placed her lips to mine. Her lips were soft and desirable. Our breathing increased the longer we held each kiss. We were making out among a park full of people. Then she did something that I heard about, but never experienced. She put her tongue in my mouth. Her tongue circled my tongue, and darted in and out of my mouth. I mimicked what she was doing and her breathing increased. When her tongue wasn't in my mouth, she was gently biting my lips. All the while her breasts were being pressed up against my bare chest. Almost instantly I began to get an erection.

Our hands slowly began exploring each other's body. We were getting lost in each other's attention. We were completely oblivious to what was going around us. As the afternoon turned into early evening, Daisy shed her sunglasses. I was staring into her clear blue eyes. I've never felt feelings like what I was having that day. My desire for her was growing by the minute. My dick was straining to be released from my cut-offs.

Daisy said, "I'm going to make love to you on the beach tonight. We are going to be together the entire night."

Tong Wars were common in San Fransisco. The police were busy keeping the multitude of street gangs in Chinatown under wraps. They didn't have enough manpower or time to sweep the beach. Once the sun was low in the sky, it was off to the beach. Daisy and I hitched a ride with her male friends. Paul and Carol were nowhere to be found.

About five couples huddled on blankets. We sat around a roaring fire singing songs, sharing weed, and any food left over from the festival.

Daisy slipped out of her top and placed one of my hands on one of her tits. I was feeling-up the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. "Take me now," she whispered before kissing me. She stood up and removed her skirt. In front of everyone, wearing little red panties, she swayed to the music playing in her head. Her tits moved, when her hips moved. She reached for my hand and grabbed the blanket. She led us closer to where the Pacific Ocean was crashing on shore. She laid the blanket out, unzipped my cut-offs, and released my ridged member.

Laying on her back, she raised her ass and pulled off her panties. It was going to happen. Under a sliver of a moon and millions of twinkling stars, I was going to have sex for the first time. I wanted to savor every second. I wanted to remember every detail. I was scared and elated at the same time. My heart was pounding in my chest.

Daisy spread her legs and said, "Whenever you're ready."

I knelt between her slender legs. She grabbed my unit and ran it up and down her pussy. The feeling was amazing. I hoped I wouldn't cum to quickly. Then it happened. She placed the head of my stiff dick at the opening of her wet gash and push herself onto me. My throbbing member was inside a deliciously warm vagina. She grabbed the cheeks of my ass and began moving her pelvis up and down. After a few awkward attempts to meet her thrusts, I got the hang of it and we found a slow rhythm. I was making love with a beautiful, experienced woman. I was going to cum inside a person and not on a kleenex.

I'm sure by her standards I didn't last long. I exploded sending rope after rope after rope of spunk deep inside of her. I remember driving my dick in her after I finished filling her with my seed. I continued to move in and out, maintaining my hard-on until she let out a low moan. She wrapped her legs around my waist and drove herself hard on my dick. Her next moan was louder. When she stopped moving she grabbed my face and kissed me long and passionately. Once again our tongues explored our mouths. We stayed connected in a lover's knot, kissing and touching one another as gently as possible.

We walked back to the fire. There wasn't anything shameful in being naked in front of the remaining couple. They too were naked and having sex. She was on her knees. Her large breasts were swinging with each thrust. With each thrust, both partners would let out pleasurable grunts.

We kept the fire going and spent the night on the beach. My sleeping bag housed our naked bodies. I awoke with the feeling I was about to have a wet dream. It wasn't the beginning of a wet dream, my blonde blue-eyed lover was waking me up in a special way.

She had unzipped the sleeping bag. Kneeling between my legs she had a grip on my hard dick and was slowly jerking me off. Just when the early morning sun broke the horizon filling the sky with shades of orange, yellow, and red, Daisy put her mouth on my dick. Her mouth was warm and inviting. She kept coating my dick with saliva. Up and down her head bobbed. She gently squeezed my nuts. I thought I would never have the same sensations as I had the evening before, but I was wrong. A sense of peace and comfort washed over me. I stayed on my back and enjoyed my first blowjob.

"Cum in my mouth, it's OK," she said.

"Oh God, Daisy, I'm getting close!"

And then it happened. Stream followed by stream of cum hit the back of her throat. My dick was pulsing and quivering. When I was spent, she crawled up to me and lowered herself on my still hard member. We kissed like two lovers: slow, deliberate, and passionate. I could taste myself on her lips. The entire time we were kissing she was riding my dick purring like a contented kitten. Her hard nipples on her medium sized tits rubbed against my chest with each thrust. She led out a deep sigh, her body shook, and she coated my member with her discharge.

We hitched back to the pad she and her friends landed at couple of nights ago. Carol and Paul were there. They too enjoyed each other's bodies the night before. We all decide to grab some breakfast and head back to the park. Around 2:00 in the afternoon, Paul was getting itchy to continue our adventure. What wonders could be waiting for us after this glorious weekend in June of 1967? We said our good-byes without any angst or sorrow. We both new that our time together would be quick and fleeting.

Paul and I had other encounters with girls that we met on our travels, but no one compared to Daisy. I felt that Daisy had an inkling about my lack of sexual expertise, but made love to me anyway. The girls we met along the way were just that - girls we met along the way. Sex was plentiful, not necessarily memorable. Who knew then, we would be part of the Summer of Love. A small part in the big picture, but a part none the less.

An awful lot has happened to me in the past 50 years. Too much to mention. Much like the turbulent sixties, some things were good, some not so good. The one constant was the memory of my brief time with Daisy. I often wondered what became of her. I also wondered if it was the person, the act, the setting or a combination of all of what I experienced, that left an indelible memory on my mind.

There are numerous varieties of daisies that grow where I reside. My side garden is a showcase of these beautiful, colorful flowers. People stop and tell me how wonderful they look. I just nod my head and say, "It's difficult not to enjoy a pretty daisy."

50 Years. It can't really be 50 years. A lot has happened in the past 50 years.