Gina

Gina was 23; I was 16 in the summer of 1976. She was from California and was visiting her mother. Her mother lived four houses up from my family's home in Connecticut. I met her when her mother stopped her car while I was fixing our mail box after vandals beat it in with a baseball bat. I remember that she smiled when her mother introduced her.

She was beautiful, just what I would think of as a California girl, not that I had much to go on, just Mr. Morgan's Playboys that his son Willy snuck out of the house for us to ogle over. The female form was still a mystery to me. Sure, I had a girl friend but it never went more then a quick feel through clothes and French kissing at parties. My girl friend was cute, but Gina was a woman, tanned, tall with blonde hair blue/green eyes and upturned nose with a constellation of freckles across it.

She got out of her mothers car to see what I was doing, and her mother drove off up the hill to her house. She wore worn blue jeans that fit like a second skin; her waist was so slender she wore a bandana as a belt. Her shirt fit as well as a shirt could possibly fit and left nothing to my imagination. I don't remember what we talked about or if we talked very long, all I can remember her walking up the hill towards her mother's house. Oh what a walk she had, talk about a "West Coast Strut" I must have hit my fingers with the hammer three or four times, without feeling it before she crested the hill and went out of my sight.

I worked after school in the local super market where her mother shopped so I was able to see her when she would come in ether with or without her mother, I guess I have to say here that I may not have looked like a typical 16 year old, I had always been a little heavy as a kid until I was 15. Then I grew from 5 foot 7" or so, to a robust 6 foot 3" and all that extra weight went away, playing sports gave my body the shape it should have, I never had a problem with acne and I could grow a respectable mustache. I could also go to bars without too much problem and buy beer, since at that time the legal age for both was 18. I think Gina thought I was 18 or 19, but she never asked and I wasn't offering any additional information on that subject.

Over the next week or so we became friends and she would sometimes walk down to my house to say hello. We would listen to music and smoke pot together ether in my room or out on the back deck when my folks were out. She was so fucking cool; it was like being in another world around her. Of course her being really hot helped, but she was just a really nice person, funny, had a great voice and played the guitar while I played my bass, then we would go outside under a tree and smoke a joint. She talked about her place in California and the weather and the beach and how I should come out to visit.

While we talked she would touch me, just on my arm or chest in a pleasing way that excited me deeply, but I didn't have the first clue on how to respond. Really, deep down it was that I was afraid to. The virgin hurdle can be mighty high. Looking back I have no doubt she knew the effect she was having on me. And it was my first sweet seduction from a woman.

We arranged to go out on a Saturday night to a bar where I knew the head bartender. He had worked at the country club where I caddied some days so I could play golf on Mondays when the course was closed to the members. I was sure that I would not be carded and thus reveal my true age. The bar was in a local town, Westport known for its rich and artistic residents, the place itself was called Viva Zapata's and it sat (and still does) near the water front of the rich and famous.

Gina came down to my house and looked too good to be true for our "date." The car I had at the time was a 1964 Ford Falcon, dark blue with a little back yard "gear head" modifications to it. I had picked up a half an ounce of some nice gold Columbian to smoke, she brought a bottle of chilled wine, (I think it was Lancers in the brown ceramic bottle), with her that we passed back and forth as we smoked a fat joint. The drive took about a half a hour and with an eight track tape player in the car we listened to Zeppelin and Jethro Tull as we drove to Westport. Once inside the place, we sat down at the bar and I introduced her to Dave, my bartender friend. Dave was in his upper 20's, early 30's and when Gina wasn't looking gave me the "Thumbs up" signal. The drinks were generous and mostly free.

Gina drank a kind of drink I had never heard of, a funny girl's name, Margarita. I stuck to beer, Becks to be precise and to be honest we had quiet a few. The talking between us was mostly jokes and non important stuff as I remember, as the night went on she became prone to touching my body, sliding her hands up my thighs, and I took the opportunity to do the same to her wonderful form.

We left the bar and as we got into my car she put her arms around me and kissed me with an open mouth and demanding tongue. She tasted strange and only later in life, I realized it was the taste of tequila. We continued to make out in the parking lot and she felt me all over even running her hands over the pretty evident bulge in my pants. I was hesitant to really touch her but she helped by placing my hands on her breasts. They felt wonderful, soft, firm and heavy to my hand and the nipples felt stiff and hard to my fingers.

She told me that she wanted to go someplace where we could be alone. Not having my own place and I knew my folks would be home, I had no idea where to go. Gina rolled another joint and we drove vaguely back towards my house. I remembered that there was a small park near a friend's house, Cherry Lane Park, it was called. It was not a "Park" in the true city sense of the word, but a dirt road into a wooded area, more like a wild life sanctuary. I decided to go there.

We pulled in and parked. We drank the wine that had left, it was still kind of cold, not that it would have made much of a difference, to be honest. Finishing the joint we were smoking I put in some "Steely Dan" on the 8-track. Gina slowly took over, guiding my hands and position to where she wanted it, still fully clothed we pressed against each other. Suddenly she sat back, against the passenger door pushed me away and removed her shirt; she had no need to remove a bra, because she didn't need one. I remember that her breasts were just like the women I looked at in Playboy. She stretched her body upwards and her hands went to hold her own breasts, as if they were an offering to me. I felt numb, excited, confused, and horny... all at the same time.

She released her breasts and taking my hands gently pulled me to her, my head rested on her chest and my mouth suckled her breasts, she coaxed me in what she wanted. I explored this new place in as much wonderment as the Norse did when they saw North America for the first time. With little hints and guiding my head with her hands she started to emit the small sounds of a woman in pleasure, the first to my ears, and it was primeval, natural, and most of all... wonderful. She pushed me back into the driver's seat and took off my new, black, Genesis tour tee shirt, her mouth licked my chest and sucked my nipples, a feeling I had never imagined, let alone felt, as her hands felt my hardness through my jeans.

Pulling away from me again she unbuttoned her jeans. I sat transfixed and dumb as she slid them over her hips taking her panties with them. It was kind of light from the moon and I remember watching as her pubic mound came into view. I sat amazed at the sight; I had never seen this in real life only in flat, fold out pictures. It was just so smooth and she had a wisp of blonde hair that matched her hair color. Removing her pants she knelt on the seat and grabbing my belt she pulled me to her. My pants became loose and down around my mid thighs before I could grasp what was going on. Leaving me to remove them the rest of the way, she moved between the front seats and half way into the back seat.

I don't know if it was an epiphany, but when I saw her wonderful rear end so close to my face as she climbed between the seats, I fell deeply, totally, and forever in love with the female ass, if it that wasn't an epiphany I don't know what is. She stopped half way over to move some junk off the back seat to the floor. I kissed her hind cheek, long and softly without a thought, and she made a sound of enjoyment. It was soft, warm, smooth and in short... indescribably wonderful. Had known then what I know now she would have stayed in that position, rear end up and my mouth on it for an hour or more.

We ended up in the back seat, and thank god for the cars of the 60's, I've had bed rooms smaller that that. She took me in her hands and guided me where she wanted, and needed me to be, as I tried to respond as best as I could, but this was clearly her show. Her mouth was active and seemed to kiss me in 50 places at once, I tried to keep up but I was one kiss, one touch, and one position behind.

We made love in that back seat, and with her tender instructions, I finally jumped that hurdle. She was all I could have wished for; I think that she must have realized that if I was not a virgin, I had limited experience in the art of love. She guided my body with gentle touches, moves, and hints never becoming distracted, or annoyed.

When we came to the final stretch I moved on top of her, and felt the pleasure of her body wrapping around mine, and her mouth open, sometimes kissing me and sometimes just breathing in a locomotive sound... ether in my ear on directly into my mouth. Her insides were liquid and a totally new feeling and it didn't take long for me to spend. She held me close in my return to earth and whispered soft touching words in my ear as she kissed my forehead and the tip of my nose. It felt like never before or since.



Post script

I only saw Gina once again after that night, she left to go back to California less then a week later, before she left she put a note and a small gift to remember her by in the same battered mailbox that I was fixing when I met her. Her note said how much she enjoyed meeting me and that I should come out to California. The gift was a small castle with a knight on a white horse...I still have it...all these many years later.