Grand Prix

I never really knew anything about her. She was a neighbor, good-looking in a cool, seemingly standoffish way. She wore her long blonde hair swept up into a neat sort of business "do," rather than long and loose, as most girls wore it at that time, especially in a college town.

Like many of the people on the block, she was a grad student. I think she was doing English Lit.

The building she lived in, a beat-up Victorian, was off the street, directly behind a similar house that I shared with a constant parade of other people.

What started my brief acquaintance with Bonnie was that her front window looked out onto a deck that was actually the roof of our communal garage. The deck was our sunbathing spot, and nudity was the default dress code.

One day, one of my female housemates and I were getting some sun. I was pretending to read while surreptitiously watching her idly curl her pubic hair around her fingers. I caught movement from the corner of my eye and I realized our new neighbor was walking around inside her apartment. I wondered whether she was cool with us waving our bits around right in front of her place, so I wrapped my towel around my waist and knocked on her door.

She opened up with a slight smile on her face, and after we had identified ourselves I asked her if she was okay with a bunch of strangers getting naked right in front of her window. She laughed and said, "I don't mind at all. In a way it's kind of fun, but I can't just stand and look. It makes me feel like a voyeur."

"Well," I said, "you could come join us, and then you wouldn't be a voyeur." I was joking, but I also meant it. She was naturally beautiful even in a shapeless T-shirt, clearly without a bra, and wearing no makeup. I assumed she was wearing shorts, although I couldn't see them. She had pulled her hair up with a scrunchie. And I was smitten.

"One of these days I'll probably come out and join you," she said, "but I'm way behind and I need to work."

"I know what you mean," I said, although I didn't, really.

(My own college career had been one of the most undistinguished in the history of higher education. When I was in school, I would have been the first one out on the sundeck.)

"Have fun," I said.

"You too," she said, and closed the door. I wondered if it was my imagination or if she had held my eyes a bit longer than politeness required. I felt a little awkward as I once again dropped my towel right in front of her window. In a way, now that I knew her, it was slightly embarrassing.

A week or two later I ran into her again as we were both walking up our shared driveway. I remember being very happy to see her. We smiled at each other, and she said, "Didn't recognize you with clothes on."

"Not the first time I've heard that," I said. I looked up at the overcast. "Not a good day for sunbathing."

"Funny you should say that," she said. "I turned my thesis over to my advisor yesterday, and I was looking forward to lying in the sun and doing nothing this afternoon." She looked around at the sky.

"Bummer," I said. And it was a bummer. I was reluctant to let her go, and she seemed to be in no hurry either.

"What are you going to do now?" she said. "You can't take your pants off."

I laughed. There was nothing suggestive in her tone. She had probably seen me naked a dozen times.

"I could take them off just to be consistent," I said, "but that would be a foolish consistency. Cold, too."

"The hobgoblin of little minds," she said.

"I forget who said that."

"Emerson," she said.

"Oh, yeah," I said, although I knew nothing about Emerson except his name. Trying to be casual, I added, "Anyway, if the urge to take my pants off gets bad enough, I'll probably recruit my housemates for a trip to the sauna. That'll be warm."

"The one on Northside?" she asked.

"Yeah. Have you been there?"

"Only once. It seemed kind of dark."

"Ah, you must have been in the original sauna. The people who built the place were Finnish, or something."

"And Finnish people like it dark?" She smiled, which just made her better looking.

"That's my theory," I said. "Anyway, they have a new room with a tub that's open to the sky," I said. "That's the one we usually try to get. It's bright, and at night they have these strings of lights. It's very nice."

She didn't say anything, but she wasn't edging away, either.

"One time it rained on us while we were in the tub," I said. "That was a weird feeling."

I didn't mention that I had been sitting on the side of the tub in the freezing rain while my date, in the tub, was keeping my cock warm in her mouth. My ass had been in a cold puddle while my legs were dangling in very hot water. It really had been a weird feeling.

She smiled. "That actually sounds nice," she said.

Again trying to apply zero pressure, I said, "If we go, you want to get in on it?"

"Sure," she said.

"I'll let you know what time, assuming that we do get a time," I said. "I also have to call my roommates. It's like herding cats."

"Okay," she said, smiling, and we split up.

I sprinted up the stairs to our apartment and immediately called the Sauna for a reservation. I had absolutely no intention of including my housemates, both of whom were female and one of whom, Carol, was an occasional lover. We weren't exclusive, but even in those laissez-faire days the vibe would have been rather awkward with Carol and me sitting around naked in hot water with the pretty new neighbor. And more to the point, it would have completely ruined any chance of sudden mutual bad behavior.

Long story short, I lied to Bonnie about my housemates not being available, she said she'd go anyway, and we finally did get naked together in the room with the pretty lights.

I still remember years later how beautiful she was. All I can remember of her face was that she was good-looking in an aristocratic way that made her seem standoffish. But I can still see her body in front of me like a photograph. She was lean and athletic with clear ivory skin. Her whole body turned pink in the hot water. She had wispy blonde hair on her arms and thighs.

Her pussy was also blonde, with straight hair that became almost invisible when she was wet, and her pink labial lips were peeking out after we had been in the water awhile.

Her nipples were pink, too, and slightly puffy, on high shapely breasts that I would call "perky." Her ass was not large, but perfectly rounded, like a violin.

I told you I was smitten.

And yet. It might sound unlikely to someone who didn't come of age in that era, but sex and feminism were plentiful at the same time, and I knew nakedness did not amount to an invitation. Bonnie was friendly and at ease, but kept her distance. Hot-water humping was not in the cards.

Nevertheless, she was there, and that in itself was good news. She had to be at least a little bit interested. I don't remember what we talked about, but it wasn't sexual. I was happy just to look at her.

By the time I got her home that night, she must have decided that I wasn't crazy or otherwise unsuitable, because she invited me in and poured some wine. We had plopped ourselves down on a sort of day-bed in her living room, right in front of her living room window. I remember pulling down the window shade, and the next thing I remember--maybe we had a lot of wine--was burying my face between her legs. It was wonderful. She was lying back on the bed and I was kneeling on the floor.

After a bit, she said, "Come up here." I thought she wanted to fuck, and moved up to lie next to her. Before I could manage that, she had grabbed my waist, stood me up, and turned me to face the other way. That girl was strong!

Finally I realized the plan, as she smoothly undid my belt and pants. She pushed them down and painlessly freed my cock.

"Here, let me get my shoes off," I said.

"No," she said. "Just come up here where I can reach you."

She helped me lie down with my balls right in her face, making it clear that 69 was the object.

She rolled toward me, and I toward her, as she began playing with my rapidly growing erection. I lifted her top leg, opening her crotch again, and got back to work, but this time upside down.

She was obviously excited, much wetter than my licking could have had made her, and she was grunting and making smacking sounds as she took my cock in her mouth. So much for "cool and standoffish." She was a very enthusiastic lover. I couldn't see what she was doing to me--I was busy--but it felt very good from the very beginning. In the meantime she was helping me, holding her own legs open so I could push my face deeply into her.

I was doing my best to vary the pace and type of licking and sucking. At that age I had not yet learned that the key to eating pussy has almost nothing to do with trying to stick your tongue up inside it. But I knew enough to keep things moving. And she was making humming noises.

Abruptly she pulled her head away from me and said, "I want to get on my back. Climb on top of me!" She helped me roll a leg awkwardly over her. My feet were still imprisoned at the ankles by my jeans. I was trying not to mash my genitals into her face, but she didn't seem to mind. Eventually I held myself up on my knees and tried to arrange things so my own face would be over her wonderful pussy. As I did that, I could feel her using her hands to guide my cock to her mouth, and then she grabbed my ass with both hands.

It wasn't the first time I had ever been in that position, but it was the first time anyone had been so enthusiastic about it. I used my knees as much as I could, but I had to allow some of my weight to drop onto her face. It didn't faze her; she took me in and held me.

I went back to licking and sucking, wiggling and poking with my tongue. I began to experiment with her clit while I gently rubbed two fingers up and down her ass crack. In the meantime she was playing with my balls, and she was still making sounds of approval.

I suddenly realized that I was having way too much fun. I wasn't going to last thirty seconds if we kept doing what we were doing. I assumed that she wanted to move on to the usual main event.

I started to pull out of her mouth and she instantly reached up and clapped both hands on my ass again! She pulled me back down, and I realized that for some time her face had been pressed to my groin! I was as far down her throat as I could go, and I hadn't even known it.

And apparently she wanted it that way.

She kept the pressure on my ass, and started thrusting her hips toward my face. I figured "what the hell," and leaned back into her crotch. She was soaking wet and smelled wonderful. I began using the point of my tongue rapidly on an area just above her clit that had previously elicited loud noises, while I started to gently fuck her face. The volume went up! She started making excited syncopated grunts from the area of my cock, and pushed her groin farther toward my face. I flicked and licked as hard as I could.

I started making my own noises. I clearly remember thinking that anyone who could hear us probably would be laughing.

And then I was suddenly overwhelmed--unable to stop myself. I blew as deep and hard as I have ever come--while barely moving! It was electric. I was screaming with my mouth full, and so was she! She was coming too, shaking and making more noise than I was!

Even after I had spurted what must have been a heavy load of cum into her throat, she made no move to free her mouth. She kept groaning and pushing her muff into my face and I kept working on her with my tongue. Then, all of a sudden, she pulled away, twisting her pussy away from my mouth.

I didn't take it personally. I was familiar with the sudden pain of too much stimulation after an orgasm. I waited until she let go of my ass cheeks, and slowly pulled what was left of my erection out of her mouth. She turned so we would be on our sides again, and lay back, gasping. There was no sign of cum on her face or lips. She had swallowed it all.

I kissed her upside-down belly. I also was gasping.

"That was the... absolute best ever," I said. "I'm not kidding; you are the best. That was...."

"Me too," she said. And she left it at that.

I wasn't just being polite. It was in many ways the best blowjob--and maybe the best sex--I've ever had. I still remember that pink body and that deep-throat 69 very clearly.

I regret that I don't really recall much about the rest of that night. Or about her. From the vantage point of experience, I suspect I was drunk at the time. I hate to think of all the things my brain has failed to record in my life because I was half in the bag.

I do remember sitting and talking afterward in her little living room. I told her how surprised I had been when she grabbed my ass and pulled me down into her throat.

"I was enjoying it," she said. "I was about to come. I thought, 'Why not?'"

Well, all right, then.

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Off Topic: There's one other thing I remember from that conversation. I asked her if she had tried anal intercourse, which was a new thing then, at least to me. She said yes, and with high hopes I asked if she had enjoyed it.

"The 'in' stroke isn't so bad," she said, "but the 'out' stroke feels like you're taking a shit." Those were her exact words, and I have never forgotten them.

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That was our only time. In terms of interests and personalities, I can see it's quite possible that Bonnie and I were perfect for each other. But we never made love or even dated again, because I was an arrogant young man with a pathological fear of commitment.

In a conversation the next day (out on the sundeck at last) we talked about what might be next for us. In a sincere but idiotic attempt to "keep it real," I told Bonnie that although I thought she was amazing, she should know that I was already involved in a couple of casual relationships. She waved that off, but I had to go on and say that I had one entanglement that seemed to be getting "more serious."

That was true, but it was a bridge too far. Again, I remember her exact words.

"I wouldn't mind you seeing other women," she said, "but I don't want to be part of a harem."

It took me years to understand the difference. To understand what she might have been offering me, and what I had blown in an instant.

You young men who think honesty is always the best policy should note that the woman with whom I had been getting "more serious"--a mentally unsteady cutie with a four-year-old son--dumped me a month later and went back to her old boyfriend.