Love Street Ch. 05

For the past half hour or so, we've been cruising along an undeveloped shoreline. Now the bright lights of high-rise residential tower gradually come into view.

"What's that?" Laura asks.

"Western Regional Teaching Hospital," I explain. What I don't tell her is that it's actually the nursing students dormitory.

When we reach the end of the lake, I cut the engine and let us drift without running lights along a low dam. Most of the hospital buildings are at the base of the dam, about 30 feet below. But the nurses' dorm is a six-story high rise, which puts us about 40 feet away, and looking directly into perhaps a dozen floor-to-ceiling windows.

I pull a blanket over us as Laura's warm body snuggles into mine. At first, we gaze back up the lake toward the distant lights of the village and lakeside cottages. But as the boat gradually swings around in the breeze, the dorm comes into view.

"Oh, my!" Laura exclaims.

"What's that?"

"Look," she points to one of the rooms, almost directly opposite us, a nurse and her boyfriend are slow dancing to music we can't hear. He's wearing jeans, she has on cutoffs. Both are topless and the creamy white sides of her breasts are pressed firmly against his naked chest. We are so close that as they turn, I can read the label on the back of her 502 cutoffs, a 24-inch waist and what was once a 26-inch inseam.

"Can't they see us?" Laura asks.

"Not with their lights on," I tell her. "But you know, I like what they are doing." I lift Laura to her feet and pull off our shirts before wrapping the blanket back around as we sway together in the moonlight.

"Mmmmm," she sighs, looking over her shoulder at the dorm window. "This is naughty, Baby. Very naughty." Laura wraps her arms around my neck and nuzzles into my chest. We dance in the tiny cockpit, making small circles and facing opposite directions, so neither one of us sees the dorm at the same time.

On the next rotation, I notice a light flip on in the room just below our dancing couple. A girl walks in, obviously fresh from a shower, with one towel wrapped on hair, and another around her body and knotted between her breasts. Then we turn again, and my eyes sweep across the dark and empty horizon searching for running lights on the lake. I can make out several, but they are all night fisherman we'd passed during our circumnavigation.

When the dorm comes into view again, the dancers are still wrapped in each other's arms, although their hips are now undulating together. The shower girl, however, has dropped her towels, revealing a voluptuous frame with wide hips and large, ripe breasts. She's standing sideways to us, brushing her hair and studying her reflection in a full length mirror.

"Ohhhh!" Laura exclaims after the scene passes from my view.

"Am I missing something?"

"The girl with the, um, body?"

"Brushing her hair? Yes, very curvaceous."

"She's not exactly brushing her hair anymore."

Sure enough, on the next turn, her hair has been combed into long, wet shoulder-length strands and she's cupped her breasts in her hands and is twisting her large, dark nipples with her thumb and forefinger.

"Wish I could do that," Laura says as, once again, I'm looking down the lake.

"I don't believe there's anything you can't do," I say, breaking our embrace so we can watch together, standing side by side.

"We'll maybe not that," I concede, watching the dark-haired beauty lift her breasts to her mouth and suck intently on each nipple.

"Not in this lifetime," Laura jokes, raking her fingernails down my back. "Ohhh. Do you think she's going to..."

Before Laura can get the word out, the girl lowers one hand along her stomach until it disappears below a freshly shaved mons. She peers intensely into the mirror for a moment, then even as her body seems to tense, her eyes flutter closed.

Laura's arm snakes around my waist as we watch together in fascination as the girl looking in the mirror begins vigorously rubbing her pussy at the same time her head begins bobbing up over her nipple and breast.

"You know I love to watch, Baby. But aren't we invading her privacy or something?" Laura asks.

"She has curtains. If she wants privacy, she can close them."

"True. I guess that it's just kinda of strange watching another woman."

"You feel kinda hot and moist to me," I say, pressing my fingers against soft flesh just below Laura's pubic mons. Then I do more than a mere moisture check, rolling her fleshy lips between my fingers as best as I can through denim jeans and panties.

"Do it to me," Laura moans softly, reaching down, unbuttoning her jeans and lowering the zipper. My hand slips into her panties and my middle finger glides effortlessly between wet labia. Laura may be hesitant to watch another woman touch herself. But her body isn't.

The girl with the mirror, buckles slightly at the knees and pauses masturbating long enough to climb onto her bed. The new view is not nearly as explicit, but it is perhaps even more erotic as she begins bucking her hips in the air while fingering herself and playing with her nipples.

"I think she's close," I whisper.

"So am I," Laura replies in a barely audible sigh. I push one finger into her vagina, while my thumb seeks out her swollen clit. Laura sinks her teeth into my pecs to stifle a gasp. Almost in tandem, Laura and the girl in the window, arch their backs and thrust their hips violently forward, with heads thrown back and eyes clamped shut.

Laura's vaginal muscles contract around my finger and fluid flows down my hand. Her eyes slowly open, and Laura smiles up at me before her gaze returns to the window. The girl on the bed is working it again, finger herself and going for a second orgasm. I pick up my pace, pulling Laura's jeans and panties down to her ankles so I can finger fuck her more vigorously. Soon there is the rapid-fire slap of my hand against her naked flesh combined with a little symphony of wet pussy sound effects.

"Oh, my. God," she repeats over and over. "Baby. Baby. It feels so good. You're going to make me... make me..." I reach behind her with my free hand and the moment my finger darts between Laura's butt checks, she begins to groan. "Cummmmmmmming."

This time, it's Laura's legs that buckle and I catch her and hoist her onto the long, cushioned cockpit bench seat. It takes about 30 seconds before she recovers enough to open her eyes.

"Well, that was unexpected," she tells me, her eye wide and an almost triumphant smile on her face. "I haven't cum that hard, or that fast, since... Since never."

I bend down and slip my lips between hers and we make out for so long that I've lost track of time when I finally come up for air as Laura thrashes around on the cockpit seat as a third set of contractions consume her. This time as she comes down, she pushes my hand away. "Enough," she beams up at me. "Can't take anymore."

I glance back to window, but the show is apparently over and the lights are out. In the room below, however, things are just heating up. The dancing girl kisses her way down her boyfriend's chest and abs, undoing his belt and lowering his pants in an almost seamless motion. Freed of its constraints, the boyfriend's cock snaps to attention, the tip bouncing within inches of her lips.

"Shit," Laura blurts as she stands and tries to pull her panties and jeans up long, shapely legs that glow white in the moonlight. "Is she going to..."

"Suck him off," I finish the thought for her. "I think she certainly going to try."

Before the words are out of my mouth, her mouth has encircled the tip of boyfriend's cock and her fingers are caressing his shaft with long, practiced strokes. The look of pleasure that spreads across the boyfriend's face is priceless. I wrap the blanket around our naked shoulders and Laura and I sit, watching spellbound as our nameless nursing student delivers a post-grad level blowjob.

"Don't worry," Laura whispers up to me. "I'm making mental notes."

Laura has a good memory. Within moments I feel my own jeans and briefs sliding down as Laura's tight, warm lips wrap around my cock head and her fingers caress my shaft with a feathery touch that falls right in my personal Goldilocks zone. Not too tight. Not to loose. But just right. Which brings me to the boiling point before I can say, well, pretty much anything, except "Arrrrggghhhh!"

If Laura answers, her response is swallowed up, as it were, by the loud slurping sound her lips make on my cock tip and the guttural moan that builds from deep inside me. By now, Laura and I know each well enough that I don't have to warn her I'm cumming. It would just make her more determined to swallow anyway.

Through half-closed eyes I glimpse up to see how our amateur performers are doing. I find that like myself, the boyfriend's back is arched while his girl stubbornly refuses to relinquish his throbbing cock.

Like an earthquake, my orgasm announces itself with a few subtle tremors, followed by a furious explosion. Laura grabs my cock shaft in her fist and sucks down each rumbling eruption. As the final tremblers fade, I collapse onto the cushioned bench beside Laura.

It takes surprisingly long for me to recover. When I finally get my belt buckle closed, Laura and I lean back like a couple on our first date at movie and watch the love scene unfolding before us until it reaches its final act, with the boyfriend falling in exhaustion between his girl's outstretched thighs.

We race back to the Love Street Marina at full throttle, my uncle's boat is safely in its slip, and Laura and I are back in her bed, and by a few minutes before midnight we are fucking like there's no tomorrow.

As I'm leaving for my room at dawn, she reaches out and grabs my hand. "That was hot last night on the boat," she says with that insanely sexy smile. "Can we do it again?"

So we do.

On the second visit, Laura watches with undisguised lust as our dark-haired beauty repeats her performance, masturbating in front of her mirror. We don't luck into any couples making love, but as a pretty girl freak dances in cotton panties, Laura and I slowly strip naked for each other and then fuck to a screaming simultaneous orgasm on my uncle's cockpit cushions.

"You've ruined my innocence, you know that you big pervert," Laura says with a grin when we get back to the Marina. "How can I go back to Philadelphia after so fucking much excitement?"

"That's the plan, Ma'am," I tell her.

For the next few weeks, it actually does seem like our passion will surmount all obstacles and we can go on making love forever. But by the Baseball All-Star game in late July, I realize forever is an illusion and that or actual nights together are dwindling to a precious few.

Even worse, I know that when Laura goes, she will also leave an impossible hole in my life.

It not just Laura who is falling. I, too, am hopelessly in love. But in the cold light of reason, I know our relationship, a 19-year-old boy and a 37-year-old woman, is truly hopeless.

Our last night together, Laura weeps softly while we make sweet, passionate love. At dawn, I slip out Laura's back door.

Although it is still August, the first cold snap of the season has arrived. I can see the condensation from my breath and as the first rays of morning light fall across the lake, wisps of steamy fog rise from the surface. Since childhood, this first harbinger of autumn always put me in an irritable mood. But this morning, I'm in a place so dark and despairing that I honestly wonder if I will ever find my way back.

"I thought you said this was the mini-Bible belt out here," Laura says as I help pack her Volvo for the trip back to Philadelphia.

"Believe me," I tell her. "It is."

"The how do explain that," she nods with her sexy smile to a white sign fixed to the porch wall.

The sign is painted with little red hearts, almost like a Valentine's Day card, and announced the address: "69 Love Street."

About the time we hit puberty, after my friends and I worked out the hidden meaning, we would snicker at each other and make endless stupid jokes whenever we passed "69 Love Street."

Today, I just shrug my shoulders.

"It's the reason I picked this place, you know?" Laura says.

"That's pretty random."

"Is it?" Laura asks, fixing her eyes on mine. "I know you're hurting, Baby. We both are. But think about it. Not what we've lost. But what we gained."

I'm so mired in self-pity about the end of our affair, about the end of "us," that I haven't given any thought to silver linings.

Our furtive nights have rejuvenated Laura, I can see that. She has grown more sensual and more confident and has rediscovered a sexual self that she had long suppressed in her role as a single mother. And Laura has taught me to open my heart. That there is so much more to making love than exchanging body fluids, although she is pretty amazing at that part as well.

"I don't think it was random at all," she says, taking me in her arms. "This summer was meant to happen, and we're both be stronger for it."

I thought about that as Laura backed out of the gravel drive and her Volvo tuned east, heading back to Philadelphia.

That maybe some things happen for a reason.

Maybe.