Summer Sex and Summer Love

"What are you going to do mister?"

"I should wash you mouth out with soap for using that nasty word---cunt. But I've got a better idea."

I knelt in front of her; her mouth popped open on cue. I shoved my cock into her mouth and all the way to the back of her throat. She gagged and sputtered. I pulled out a little and she just started working my tool with that talented tongue of hers. As her throat became more used to it, I started fucking it balls deep, holding her little blond head against my crotch. The sheer perversion overtook me and I just fucked the little bitch's face for all I was worth. I pulled out before I came, shooting a massive load all over her face and in her hair. When she had licked up what she could get to, she grinned again.

"Look at that uniform! It's covered in cum! Stand up and take it off right now!"

She complied giving me one of the most provocative "little girl" strip shows I would ever experience. As she turned her ass toward me, I was pleased to see it was bright red but otherwise unharmed.

"I need to go pee pee. May I use the bathroom, mister?"

"There's no bathroom here for you. Come with me, young lady."

I had neighbors in other cottages but none were within sight. I half dragged her outside to my small front yard.

"If you need to pee---just squat and do it right here."

"Are you going to watch me, mister?"

"Of course I am! I can't have you running off before I bathe you."

She squatted, grinned at me, opened her thighs immodestly and let go a stream of amber fluid.

"Don't you have to go pee pee, sir?"

I was wearing a tee shirt and nothing else. I walked over, stroked my rejuvenating cock and pissed all over those amazing titties. She giggled the whole damn time.

"Now I know you need to be bathed, you dirty little slut!"

As in many cold winter climates, we had a hose hooked up with a Y connector out of the garage which was under the cottage. I led her down to the garage. I didn't want to give her pneumonia. The water out of the tap was cold even in the summer. Adjusting the flow so that the water was a little warm, not icy, I ordering her to stand up against the stone wall which formed the foundation. I started to hose her off, ultimately washing the cum out of her hair with some soap that I kept in the garage with the washer and dryer.

"My little poop hole is really dirty, miser----but I have to go poop!"

"Hurry up and do it then!"

The little minx squatted down, farted once and dropped a turd. This was almost over the top, but, what the hell.

"I need to wipe now." She said.

"Bend over, you dirty little slut---I'll clean that nasty asshole of yours."

The hose had a soft plastic tip on it. Adjusting the flow to a minimum I proceeded to give dirty little Polly her first backyard enema. She enjoyed it so much that she asked me to do it several more times before the end of the term. I turned her around, jerked her upright, and aimed the hose directly at her clit, flicking it back and forth. She came in a matter of seconds. It was getting late and cooling off as was typical in the mountains in late summer. We dried each other off, fell out of character and moved back inside still naked.

"I'd more planned for this episode but your improvisation more than filled the bill," she said, kissing me tenderly. "I have always wanted to take a dump in front of a man. I can die a happy woman now." We both laughed.

"Glad to be of service," I replied.

"You enjoyed it---didn't you?"

"More than I might want to admit...yeah, I enjoyed it."

"I need to ask you to do something, after we have a drink and warm up. If I'm asking too much, just say so."

"I can't imagine there's anything we've missed over the last six weeks."

And then she just blurted it out. "I want to fuck you...fuck you up the ass...I bought a strap-on."

"I need to think about that. I don't suppose there's anything particularly gay about it when it's a hot little girl doing it to you. How big is this strap-on?"

"Not too big." She said, retrieving a bag she had brought with her. It was actually a pretty pathetic representation of a cock. Since she wanted to ram it up my butt, I was glad it was a puny replica.

"What the fuck. I guess. I'm going to need a few drinks."

"You're the only man I will probably ever even be able to suggest this to. Something about it turns me on. You know I'll make it worth your while afterwards."

And so an hour later after sufficient foreplay and a couple of stiff drinks, Polly donned her contraption, indicated that she wanted to do it from the front, ensured that everything was properly lubricated and carefully proceeded. I will deny it if you ever tell anyone, but the feel of those lush, full tits on my chest, the tickle of her public hair on my cock and the heightened level of her arousal turned me on.

The rubber thing in my butt was secondary although not as unpleasant as I had expected. In the end, not really unpleasant at all. The turn on was how much it turned her on. It occurred to me that I would probably never have the experience again---nor would I ever be in the presence of a woman who was that sexually aroused as when she was doing me in the ass. When she came it was like an earthquake with aftershocks that wouldn't stop. She literally passed out.

It excited me no end to realize that I had excited her so much by letting her do me. I let her do it three more times before the end of the term and each time the result was the same. I'm sure I would never have the nerve to suggest it with any other woman and to date, none have asked---but I'd say yes in a minute. Don't knock it if you haven't tried it.

I had been accepted for a teaching position at the university following the award of my masters. Parents would be surprised how many classes at major universities, particularly undergraduate required courses, are taught by instructors who don't have a doctorate. Sometimes the real professor shows up once a week to give a lecture in a big hall but never meets the students one-on-one.

The pay was really crappy but experience teaching counted toward the doctorate and instead of paying better wages, the university elected to essentially allow a doctoral candidate to go without having to pay tuition or fees. I was on a first name basis with the entire faculty in my department. I had a comfort level; leaving the security of an organization I had been part of for six years was daunting. The head of the department asked me to stop by first thing the following Monday morning before class; it was to be the last week of class.

"Rick, I know you're planning on staying on as an instructor while you work on your PhD and you know how much we're looking forward to keeping you around. An opportunity has come up and you deserve the first right of refusal. It's called a real job if there is such a thing in academia. There's a very respected private college less than two hours from here." The department head named the school in question. "They have merged with or acquired another very respected private college and intend to become a university in their own right at the first of the year. An illness and an unanticipated sabbatical have put them in a bind.

"I've known the department head over there for years---he went to school here. You met him last summer when you were an assistant in that summer intern program which he came over to supervise. He was very impressed with the job you did. He called me on Friday to ask if I could recommend anyone here that was qualified and might be interested. Your name was the first one that came to mind. When he heard it he was genuinely excited and said it's yours if you want it.

"There's no reason you can't stay in the PhD program here---and receive credit for the teaching experience. It's not that long a drive---and we both know that in our discipline doctoral work is essentially self-study. They have an excellent library over there. You'll have to pay fees here but at the doctoral level there is a certain amount of discretion in how they're set.

"Before you even think about saying no, I have three things to add: first, you'll be doing me a favor and make me look like a hero with a respected peer; second, you need to get out of here and go teach somewhere else---get a different perspective and finally, the job pays a lot better than we do---two and a half times better. Any questions?"

"When do I start and where do I sign?"

"That was too easy! I was sure I was going to have to work on you a bit."

"Three simple answers: I owe you a lot so if it it's important to you then it's important to me; secondly, I've been on this campus long enough---not that I wouldn't want to come back after I get my doctorate; and finally, I don't even own a car. A decent pay check would be a nice change."

I hadn't given him the other reason: Diane would be a senior at the college at which I would soon be teaching.

Things got very crazy during the last week of summer school. I rode over to what would soon be my new home several times during the week. I found a place to live, signed the employment paperwork and met with the department head and other key members of the faculty. I started looking at cars. Fortunately there were reasonable lesson plans in place for the classes I would be teaching so that I could take my time injecting my own ideas into the courses.

I elected to skip the small summer graduation ceremony; there just wasn't time. As I was rushing around cleaning up loose ends and preparing to vacate my apartment I never got the chance to tell Diane. I told Polly what was happening and she used my extended absences as a good excuse to essentially end our tryst. We parted fondly but hurriedly. I would have barely a week from when I finished up at the university and began my new job. I would be teaching freshman courses; Diane would not be in any of my classes but she'd be there somewhere.

I didn't even try to look for her for the first two weeks. It took that long to get my head above water. Teaching full time was a lot more taxing than going to class as a student. I was exhausted by the time I got home at the end of the day. I traded the motorcycle for a late model used compact with a monthly car payment. I felt so grown up.

I checked class schedules and found hers. I had no real plan; I sat on the steps in front of the building in which her last class of the day met, trying to pretend I was reading. And then she was there, coming down the steps a few feet away from me.

"Diane!"

Surprised to see me? Certainly. Happy to see me? I couldn't tell.

"Rick! What are you doing here?"

"It's a long story. Can I buy you a cup of coffee?"

"What? Oh sure. There's a decent coffee house on the way to my apartment. I'm really surprised to see you. I didn't see you at all that last week---the professor even filled in for you a couple of times in class. I missed...our chats. Missed saying goodbye to you."

"I missed you too." The smile! That amazing, melt-my-heart smile. She had missed me. She was glad to see me...hopefully.

She didn't pry as we walked. The coffee house was only a few minutes away. We settled in together into a dark corner. As I was getting prepared to tell my story, she spoke first.

"So, how's that blonde, what's her name---Polly?" Just a tinge of cattiness which was not like her?

"Well, I would hope. Back at her own college snuggling up with her husband-to-be."

"I'm confused, Rick."

"It was a summer fling, Diane, never anything more. If you must know it was a wholly physical relationship. I wasn't looking for anything serious when it started."

"I've never had one of those, Rick."

"It was my first one."

"Good for you. Rick, I really enjoyed our talks together but I never saw it as more than just friends...good friends. I guess I assumed you were more intricately involved with Polly...or someone."

"Nope. No significant others. I really looked forward to our lunches together, Diane. It was the high point of my day."

Almost a grin...a grin of disbelief. "Uh, huh...sure."

"You're just going to keep ragging on me, aren't you?"

"For a while. You never flirted with me, Rick---hence I never flirted with you. I just assumed I wasn't your type...not being blonde and all."

"I've never been partial to blondes...always preferred long, lanky brunettes."

"Like me? Then why didn't you ever..."

"I thought about it but it didn't occur to me that you were the kind of girl who was interested in meaningless sex or a summer affair."

"I'm not. I'm very much an 'all the marbles' kind of girl which hasn't helped my dating regimen over the years. If you'd made a play for me on those terms I wouldn't have responded very well. Thank you for reading the cards so well and not screwing up...with me."

"I guess I read that one even better than I thought. Look, we got to know each other...really know each other and...I like you, Diane. I like you a lot."

"You drove all the way over here to tell me that? That's kind of sweet."

"Not exactly, but I hope you find what I have done just as sweet. I, ah...I work here. I'm an instructor at the college. The department head at the university asked me to take this job, I needed to get away from the university after six years, the pay is certainly better than what the university was going to pay me and..."

"And?"

"You were here. I suppose I would have mulled it over...weighed the pros and cons---but I said yes on the spot. Because I knew you would be here."

"What does me being here have to do with anything?"

"We are friends---aren't we?" Diane nodded. "So, we can keep being friends, and maybe..."

"Maybe?"

"Something more, as in something leading to...all the marbles?"

"All the marbles means more than just whatever it was you did all summer with Polly. It means..."

"Being in love? Seriously contemplating a life together? Marriage? Family?"

"Yeah, you pretty much covered the high points. It means one girl and one boy. Fidelity. Honor. Truth. No secrets. No agendas. Sharing, being a couple---hopefully forever. Are you ready to even consider a relationship that could---from my standpoint must---lead to...must lead to..."

"I love you?"

"Were you finishing my sentence or stating a feeling?"

"I was finishing your sentence. I love you. This time I was stating a feeling---a conviction. And don't tell me we don't really know each other---because we do. We just never got to the romance part...or the physical part. Hell, that's not the hard part!

We've done the hard part...we're friends. We've shared our inner selves."

"The physical part....yes, there is always that. Rick, I may be terribly grounded but I certainly thought you were cute the first day I met you in class. When you quickly hooked up with the blond with the big boobies, I figured you weren't my type. Then we spent over two months talking and getting to know each other without the fog of...sex. I haven't enjoyed anyone's company that much in my entire life. I knew you liked me as a person. I assumed I wasn't your type or that someone else had already...won your heart."

"You won my heart...more so every day as we shared lunch. Diane, if you tell me that you could never see me that way...romantically...I guess I'll have to accept it...but...I've missed you. The last two weeks I've been so bogged down and exhausted. This was too important to do half-assed. Too important to screw up and now I'm sitting here next to you, terrified that I've completely screwed up any chance for...us. And it's tearing me apart inside...breaking my heart...I love you and if you can't love me..."

She took my hand and smiled. That damn smile. My heart began to melt---or what was left of it---and my brain turned to complete mush.

"I've missed you too; both in my head and my heart. You didn't screw up. Oh, Bubba, you didn't remotely screw up! You had me back on the steps; it was all I could do to keep from jumping into your arms. Every little girl---even a terribly logical one like this one---wants a fairytale and absent the white horse, you just delivered. Kiss me and shut me up before I say something really stupid."

That kiss...oh, my! The kiss of a lifetime...THE KISS...the only one that ever matters...the one that says so much more than words. We held each other silently and cried softly on each other's shoulders.

"You had me going there."

"It's a woman's prerogative to test the waters, play hard to get...she has to be sure. This one does, anyway. On another note, I'm starving! I skipped lunch. The food here is awful and I can't look at another cup of coffee."

"You probably know this town a lot better than I do. What are you in the mood for?"

"Beef, Porterhouse, thick, medium rare. Preferably cooked on charcoal. Maybe a baked potato and whatever fresh veggie is in season."

"I have a grill and a very tiny backyard. There's a local market near where I'm living; very old style---they butcher their own meat and have local produce. They have the old fashioned real charcoal---I already bought a bag. It's not far from here."

"I don't have a car and I don't ride on the back of motorcycles."

"I traded it in for a used Honda."

"So, you're inviting me back to your place?"

"I'm not trying to be cheap---although I am just a poor first year instructor. But I do grill a hell of a steak."

"Got any wine---red only, no Pinots, maybe a Cab or a red Zin?"

"No, but they do sell wine at the little market and from what I saw it's a small but very acceptable selection."

"I'm not a stranger to the kitchen, Rick. I can pull my own weight."

"We'll figure that out later."

"And after dinner?"

"Talk? Get to know each other?"

"We've already done quite a bit of that over the summer."

"What are you suggesting, Diane?"

"We can talk while we cook...talk while we eat. That'll be enough talking in my humble opinion. If this is going to have a chance of working, we have other things to explore."

"Are you suggesting...the physical part?"

"You read my mind."