The Bowling Alley Pt. 02

For the sake of context, one might want to read the first segment of this series. Please note that all who are mentioned in this piece are 18 years of age or older. I hope that you enjoy the story!

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My brain was racing a mile a minute. My girlfriend's friend had just given me my first blowjob which resulted in a mind blowing orgasm. That would have been enough to fantasize about for months. But, when she offered Sandy a taste of my cum from her fingertip, my mind went into overdrive. This is the type of image that remains burned into one's memory bank. Just the thought of it now brings back not only the image of Sandy's tongue licking cum from Angel's finger, but also the feeling of the evening air wafting in through the open door, the fragrance of Angel's perfume competing with the stale air of the bowling alley, the image of Angel's full tits, still free from the constraint of her top, and the noise of bowling balls crashing into pins.

But, there was another noise as well. As the afterglow of my orgasm began to subside and my brain returned to its normal rhythm, it was the noise of falling pins that captured my attention. Another pin setting machine was jammed, and I turned to see which lane needed attention just as the white trouble light was illuminated. I looked down at Angel and Sandy and said," I will just be a second." Then I raced down to the machine that had malfunctioned while tugging my zipper back up. I flicked the switch to turn off the machine and then climbed up to find that a pin had jammed very tightly. It took a lot of coaxing for me to free it, and all the while I was hoping that Angel would still be half naked when I finished and returned to the girls.

It is very likely that both girls could read the disappointment on my face when I got back to find that not only was Angle fully dressed, but they were getting ready to leave. "I hope you enjoyed this evening's performance," Angel said with a grin. She continued, " Sandy was paying close attention, so you just might get lucky again sometime this week."

I looked at Sandy and smiled. She had a bit of a sheepish look on her face. "Thanks for the ice cream," I said, looking directly at Sandy. Then I turned to Angel and thanked her as well, but I did not have the confidence to come right out and say "Thanks for the blowjob, Angel." I just kind of murmured "Thanks, Angel." I walked Sandy to her side of the car and gave her a quick kiss on her cheek. She reached for my hand and squeezed it and then said goodnight. I still had an hour and a half till closing time after they drove off. There was no need to look at any of the magazines for the rest of the evening!

In today's world things would have moved along much more quickly. I would have been sending Sandy a text before they even reached the highway! The pace of life was much slower in those days. I would not dare to call Sandy when I got home after midnight for fear that her parents would answer the phone and lecture me about calling so late and then suggest that I call at a more reasonable hour before hanging up. And when I did finally get through to her on the phone, I could not possibly say anything in reference to what had happened at the bowling alley without risking someone in one or both of our households catching a sentence or a phrase that would get us both in trouble. No, the discussion about what happened or about what might follow had to be squelched until we happened to find ourselves in a private setting, and that could literally be days or even a week in the future.

Of course, that did not stop me from fantasizing over and over again about the event that took place behind the pin setting machines in the bowling alley. Guys often made crude remarks about jerking off in the locker room. Rarely was it about themselves, but rather about else who had to jerk off because they did not have a girlfriend, as if to say that since they happened to be dating someone there was no need for them to masturbate. More often than not, it was a put down to say that the only orgasms some guys would experience were ones that they gave themselves. I often wondered about that, and sometimes felt bad because, for most of those years, I was firmly in that category of having no girlfriend. I often wondered how classmates of mine like Diane whom I had known from grade school, or Susan who was my best friend's sister or any number of other girls in school would feel if they ever discovered that they were the objects of my fantasies as I lay in bed at night stroking my cock. Of course, the women in the magazines had largely taken over this duty once I started working at the bowling alley, but now that would all change. My fantasies would now revolve around what Angel did and what Sandy might do, the possibilities seemed endless.

A week or so after the experience at the bowling alley, Sandy and I made plans to go for a picnic. There was a lake nearby, and I had a canoe. Sandy seemed more than a little excited about the prospect of making lunch and joining me for a paddle on the lake. It was a weekday so the boat launch was not overly crowded. Sandy was wearing shorts and tennis sneakers and a white blouse. I could vaguely make out her bra under the material of her blouse, and I hated the thought of losing the opportunity of studying her from behind by covering her up in a life jacket, but a sense of maturity prevailed, and I held out the jacket and advised that she put it on as I zipped mine up. We put the canoe in the water, loaded the lunch and sodas and a blanket that Sandy had brought along and shoved off.

We headed for a point that was on the opposite shore, maybe a little over a mile off. It was on the quiet and, at this time of day, the shady side of the lake. There was very little boat traffic so the lake was still, and we made our way to our destination with ease. Sandy was excited to be out on the water, not having had much opportunity to experience boating in her life. We pulled the canoe up on shore and found a secluded spot behind some trees to enjoy our lunch. The lake sparkled between the trees, but we were somewhat hidden from view from anyone who happened to paddle by. Between bites of our sandwiches, we talked or rather, Sandy talked. She seemed to have so much to say, so much nervous energy. Finally, she noticed that I was finished with my sandwich and was checking out dessert while she had only taken a few bites. "I guess that I should focus on eating", she said with a chuckle.

I took advantage of the opportunity to ask, "Have you been thinking about the other night?" I did not have to be more specific.

She knew exactly what I was talking about. She finished chewing and swallowed and then asked, "Have you?" She did not answer the question, instead she volleyed the ball back in my court.

I summed up the courage that I needed and answered as nonchalantly as I could, "Sure." A pause. The ball was back in her court.

"And what have you been thinking?"

I had had plenty of time to prepare for this conversation, and despite having the maturity level of an average 18 year old male, I knew that I needed to downplay how awesome it was to see Angel's tits and to feel her mouth on my cock and to caress her hair as she brought me to an explosive orgasm. Instead I responded, " Would you like to know what the most erotic moment of that entire episode was?" She nodded. I sensed that she was partly afraid to hear the answer. "Seeing you lick my cum from Angel's finger," I said, looking straight into her eyes.

She looked relieved. "I thought you were going to say that seeing Angel's breasts and getting a blow job from her was the best part." she said. And then she went on, "It seemed like such a good idea when we first brought you the ice cream, but all week I have been worried that there was no way that I could measure up to Angel."

It was my turn, "Sandy, you don't need to measure up to Angel. I like you just the way you are."

"But my breasts are so much smaller."

"Your breasts are beautiful." I had not actually seen Sandy's breasts at that point. But she had allowed me to feel them and, as small as they were, they felt great in my hands, soft small mounds with nipples that grew hard in my palms. I had no complaints.

Neither of us said anything for a period of time. It seemed like Sandy needed to grow comfortable with the thoughts that I had shared with her, or, perhaps with what she was about to say. With a little more confidence she quietly responded, "Would you like to see them?"

"Of course." I smiled. I laid back on my side on the blanket while watching Sandy look around and then slowly begin to unbutton her blouse. The tension in my mind was the result of wanting this moment to last forever and dying to see her tits immediately! I had no way of understanding at that point that we would never quite be able to recreate this moment, it was a once in a lifetime experience. Sandy slid her blouse off her shoulders and sat there with her bra still closely guarding her breasts. I hoped that she was not having second thoughts. But then, with a sense of resolve, she reached behind her back and undid her bra and slid the straps off her shoulders and let it fall to her lap. She did not reach to cover herself as many inexperienced young women might do. Instead, she looked at me, as if she were trying to read my thoughts.

"May I?" I said as I tentatively reached up to touch her. It seemed like the right thing to say to a girl even if the guys in the movies of the time never seemed to ask for permission. She nodded. I gently cupped one and then the other. "So beautiful." I said as I gently massaged them, focussing first on the feel of Sandy's breast and then on my cock which was screaming with agony as it tried to stretch within the confines of my jeans. I had to shift, had to give it some space.

"Is something growing?" she asked with a smile. "Perhaps we should give it some room," she murmured as she reached for my zipper.

Angle was correct. Sandy had been paying attention, and she obviously learned that a guy was perfectly pleased with a woman who was confident enough to initiate. Despite all of the social cues which dictated that it was the guy's job to make the first move, I was also coming to terms with the idea that it was highly erotic for a woman to take control and to share what pleased her.

Sandy gently pushed me on my back and then unbuckled my belt and unzipped my jeans. It was awkward to say the least, but eventually, my jeans were low enough so that my underwear was the only thing holding back my raging hard on. She reached for the waistband, and I picked my hips up so that she could slip the underwear down. This was accomplished with little fuss, and soon my cock was sticking straight up with the rigidity that guys in their 60's can only vaguely recall. It was almost painful.

Sandy very tentatively leaned over and took my cock in her hand and caressed it. I can still feel her gentle touch, her individual fingers dragging along the bottom of my shaft and then her whole hand gripping it with slightly more force. She then gently cupped my balls as I reached out to once again cup her breast. I wanted to encourage her, "You touch feels wonderful." I said.

"Yours too." she responded.

And then she lowered her head and very gingerly touched the tip of my cock with her tongue. A shock of electricity coursed through my body. She continued, trying to emulate what she had seen Angel do the week before. I had been wondering just what it was that made the blowjob that Angel gave so good. For that matter, what made any blowjob good or not quite so good ( I could not imagine that one could actually be bad) Over time, I discovered that it was kind of like my relationship with pizza. I generally like just about any pizza that I try, but there are, indeed, some standout pizzas. What I experienced with Angel and then again with Sandy that afternoon was the key ingredient to a great blowjob.. It was whether or not the girl giving it was enjoying it. It would take me a long time to understand this, and I was fortunate to have the initial experiences that I did. Whether Angel had shared the secret with Sandy or not I will never know, but I like to think that Sandy just naturally knew that if she could get past any initial hesitation and show that she really enjoyed pleasing her lover with her mouth she would give him the most erotic experience possible.

My cock was almost at the point of being uncomfortable from so much stimulation. Sandy's mouth, her tongue, her fingers collectively focused intense pleasure in my body. And then she looked up at me with my cock in her mouth and that did it.. The look in her eyes There is no stopping an orgasm once the "start" button has been pressed. It is like a runaway train. It will only stop of its own accord. I have found that it is just best to enjoy the ride. Not to worry if it is too soon, just enjoy the release, enjoy the tingly feelings that arise in your balls and then spread out over your entire body, enjoy the erotic contact - her mouth on your cock, your hand on her breast, the warm sweat shared by your naked bodies, the sweet fragrance of sex.. Just enjoy it. And I did. I felt exhausted when it was over.

"Was it good?", she asked.

"Do you really have to ask that question? I think that if there was anyone within 100 yards of us they would know that I loved it!" I responded with a smile. And then I added "I hope you liked it too."

"I did," she whispered.

Of course, I was too young and naive to understand at that point that there was so much more for Sandy to enjoy, but I did not have the confidence to ask her what I might do for her. I knew from reading the magazines at the bowling alley that men seemed to like going down on women too, but I had no idea how to initiate that or exactly what the goal was. I did not have a counterpart of Angel who would be willing to show me or to explain, and this was certainly not the kind of thing to ask about over the dinner table! And so, that was the end of our first real sexual experience.

We dressed and joked about wondering if anyone saw us or if anyone might suspect what we were up to. We packed the canoe and shoved off, heading back to the launch area at a leisurely pace. There was no need to rush, and I was in no hurry to break the spell and return to reality. Between watching Sandy in the bow of the canoe and keeping an eye out for other boats, my mind wandered, wondering if women could also experience the same level of pleasure as men when they orgasmed, wondering how much better intercourse might be, wondering what really turns women on. Little did I know how much I would learn that summer.