The Summer of '77

"Mmmm," she said, pulling a few inches away to catch her breath. "You catch on fast."

Then she returned to kissing me.

"Just remember," she said, as we came up for a bit of air, "this needs to be our secret. It's fun to keep secrets sometimes, isn't it? And we don't want to get in trouble." I nodded with enthusiasm. "I don't want to hurt you, so tell me if you're uncomfortable."

"This is so great!" was all I could think to say in response.

"Ummmm, yes, it is!" Joyce replied softly as she licked her lips provocatively and once again snaked her tongue into my mouth.

She removed her hand from my balls and turned toward the medicine cabinet over the sink.

"Let's try something."

She took a tube of KY jelly off the shelf, squeezed some onto the end of her fingers and returned to our embrace.

"This'll feel a little cool at first."

She used her fingertips to coat my cock with the gel. My knees grew week and Joyce kissed me once more.

"I know boys need to masturbate a lot. Do you think about me when you masturbate?"

"Yes," I moaned, feeling this was the perfect context for candor.

"I'm so flattered!" Joyce exclaimed softly.

I could hear the crackling of the lubricant as Joyce wrapped her hand gently around my shaft and slowly worked it up and down.

"That's it," she cooed. "You are such a good boy."

Then it happened without warning. I exploded. My entire body shook and I had to brace myself on the sink as I came. Joyce nearly shouted.

"Whoop!!! Oh my god!"

I opened my eyes and saw that I had shot my wad all the way up to the mirror, where it now ran slowly down toward the tap.

"Oh my god!" Joyce said again, this time softer. I thought perhaps she was upset with me but then she said, "That was so sexy! So impressive! Come here, darling boy!"

She pressed her mouth to mine as she continued to send aftershocks through my body with her hand on my dick.

"You had quite a lot saved up for me."

She got some tissues and caught my semen from going any further down the mirror. Then she got out a wash cloth and ran some warm water. Gently she washed my cock and balls while we both smiled happily at what had transpired.

"Just remember, sweetie. We can play together but we have to be very careful, okay?"

"Absolutely!"

Of course I would have agreed to any conditions while she gently washed me. It felt magnificent.

After we cleaned up, Joyce and I went to the living room and sat on the couch, holding each other and kissing. She did not take her clothes off but she taught me to caress a woman in her special places. I gently massaged her breasts and then she guided my hand down to her shorts.

It was my first feel of a woman's pubic hair; different than what I expected, but very nice. Joyce instructed me on how to make her feel good and she soon shuddered with an orgasm from my hand. I was very receptive to her coaching. I wanted to make her feel just as good as she had done for me. We were both very satisfied. It was unexpected, but in retrospect it seemed like the logical next step in our evolving relationship. I was thrilled.

The ground rules were simple. When others were around, or could even chance to see us -- say in the yard while working -- we must be absolutely discreet, as if nothing was going on between us. We would have to carry on just as before. Joyce didn't want anything to spoil our closeness, nor did I.

After talking these things over we watched a little TV. Since Stephanie would soon be home, Joyce suggested I sit in one of the chairs while she sat on the couch. It would look entirely innocent.

Stephanie did come in around 10:00, and since the news was coming on I decided to take my leave out the back of the house and down the alley. I had been home about 20 minutes and getting ready to enjoy a good night's sleep when Joyce called. She just wanted to make sure I had gotten home okay and that I was happy with the way the evening had gone. I assured her that I was and that I would report for work the next morning.

"Come for breakfast," she said. "Nighty night, sweetie!"

As I lay in bed watching the lazy rotation of the ceiling fan, a single word played through my mind over and over.

Wow!

The next morning I reported for duty at Joyce's house, careful to act as if everything was normal. Joyce served me up a delicious breakfast of eggs, bacon and toast. While I ate she went over the list of things she needed done that morning.

"Stephanie's still in bed," she whispered. "I'm going to run some errands so that I'm not tempted to kiss you."

She smiled wickedly, tousling my curly hair, which she liked to do.

"Okay," I replied, feeling pretty wicked myself. "I'll get going on this list."

So far so good. I had to be extra careful around Stephanie so that she wouldn't suspect that her mother had indeed gotten in my pants. I recalled how she had said it in a moment of jest, but I wonder if she didn't think that it was possible. At the time I sure as hell didn't!

But on this day I felt more alive than I ever had in my life. I had taken a first tentative step into the grown-up world and I liked it. Nowadays I'd probably be painted as the victim of a wicked woman, but in the free-n-easy '70s it felt glorious! To avoid the possibility of being found out by the ever-so-perceptive Stephanie, I finished my breakfast, put my dishes on the counter, and booked outside before she awoke.

Later in the morning I was pruning some hedges near the sun porch when sleepyhead Stephanie came out in her swimsuit, jumped in the pool and took a couple of leisurely laps. When she emerged her white bikini clung to her like cheesecloth. Dripping wet, she didn't bother to towel off. She just lay down on one of the chaise lounges and let the warm air and sunshine dry her impressive body. I kept working, trying to appear oblivious.

The phone rang from inside the house and I asked Stephanie if she wanted me to grab it. She waved me off.

"It's probably Danny. I think he wants to pound me later."

She was so offhand about it. I wished I could be like that. The phone stopped after several rings.

"Hey, Stephanie?" I called over to her. "Is it okay if I go in the house and get a glass of water?"

She laughed at the question.

"Don't be ridiculous! Of course you can go in. You're practically a member of the family. Do me a favor while you're there and get me some lemonade? I had a little too much to drink last night."

"No problem," I replied as I passed her.

"Thanks, babe!" she said when I returned and handed her the glass.

That seemed a little odd. She'd never called me that before.

"Sit down, Nick. Take a break."

"Okay."

I sat in the deck chair next to her.

"You and mom sure looked comfy when I got home last night."

For a moment I could feel the blood draining from my face. I wondered if Stephanie suspected something. Had she come home early and seen us fooling around? I tried to play it cool, or at least as cool as I could. I shrugged.

"We had some dinner and she asked if I would watch a movie with her. I think she just needed some company."

"You're sweet."

"Thanks. I mean, I really enjoy being here, too."

"Does your brother know you spend so much time here?"

"Yeah. He doesn't mind. He prefers it to my being alone in the apartment when I'm not working."

"How about your dad?"

"He knows I work for your mom, but I don't think he's up on the details. He doesn't care. He's on to chapter 2."

"Like my dad," Stephanie said ruefully. "I mean, I still get along with him and everything, but his girlfriend is only 25."

"Sorta the same with my old man. His wife isn't even 30."

"You don't refer to her as your stepmom?"

"No way. My brothers and sister really hate her. I was so glad when they moved."

"Seems to be working out for you."

"Is it ever," I replied with enough conviction to make Stephanie laugh. "Well, I'd better get back to work."

"When I got home last night I tried to make a lot of noise, you know, to let you both know I was coming in the house."

"Why's that?"

"You know, in case you and mom were naked!" She laughed wickedly.

"C'mon, Stephanie! You shouldn't talk about your mother like that."

I wasn't really mad. I was just playing along. But part of me wondered if there wasn't a truthful undertone to Stephanie's joking.

"You don't talk to her like this, do you?"

"Sure! Why not? She gets embarrassed just like you do! But I think she secretly likes it."

I just shook my head and continued to be embarrassed. One thing seemed clear now: Stephanie did not suspect what Joyce and I did last night, and I wasn't about to let on.

The phone call that Stephanie disregarded was indeed from Danny. He wanted to take Stephanie up to the lakeside cottage owned by his family for the long weekend. With her enthusiasm for water sports, Stephanie liked to go so they could swim and water ski. And I'm sure there were attractions to be enjoyed inside the cottage as well.

The long weekend promised to be a busy one at the club. Golf, swimming, tennis, and a Saturday night dance for the members on the expansive veranda overlooking the course. I would be occupied with working at the pool.

Joyce called on Thursday and told me that she and Barbara planned to spend the weekend shopping in a neighboring city. Barbara's husband was going fishing, so the ladies were taking the opportunity to get away. Joyce asked me if I would house-sit for her while she was gone. I told her it would be no problem. She even went so far as to call my brother at his office and ask him if it was alright. He was fine with it. He planned to spend the weekend over at girlfriend's house.

So my weekend was set. I'd work during the day and spend the night in the big comfy bed in one of the guest rooms at Joyce's house. Throw in a full refrigerator and a color TV (still a big deal in 1977) and it was shaping up to be a great weekend.

I was a little disappointed that Joyce wouldn't be around. I had hoped we could spend a little time together, showing me the ropes, as it were, but I understood; she needed a nice break with her friend. She wasn't leaving until Saturday morning, but she urged me to spend Friday night in the guest room anyway. With Stephanie gone, it made her feel better to have me in the house.

Friday evening at the pool was quiet. Most of the swimmers had gone and the parking lot was filling up with the cars of diners. A few golfers remained on the course and I could see Joyce and Barbara on one of the tennis courts casually batting the ball around. I couldn't help but admire Joyce's form. She moved with such grace and ease; a natural athlete.

By 6:00 pm it was only my work partner, a yummy blond named Kathy, and me remaining at the pool. Kathy and I were both on the swim team at school, so it was our habit to have a workout once everyone had gone.

As the sun began to sink lower in the west, we pounded out some laps from one end to the other. Nothing taxing, just a light, refreshing swim on a hot afternoon. Once that was done we finished closing everything up. Telling Kathy I'd see her tomorrow, I threw on my polo shirt and drove my old beater Volvo back to the apartment. From there I walked over to Joyce's house -- using the alley and back gate, of course - to spend a quiet evening in front of the TV.

I went upstairs to shower in the bathroom that served both of the guest rooms. It was spacious and cool with ceramic tile and a view of the handsome tree-lined street. Joyce's master suite and Stephanie's room both had great views of the back yard, the pool, and the garden so lovingly tended by Joyce and me.

I was busy washing off the combined layer of chlorine and Coppertone in which I had marinated all day when I was startled by a knock on the bathroom door. I heard Joyce's voice from the other side call out.

"Nick? It's me, honey. Just wanted to let you know I'm home."

"Hi, Joyce," I called out over the sound of the shower. "I'll be out in a minute."

"Take your time. I'm going to take one, too."

I found myself wishing she'd take one with me. That could be a lot of fun.

I got out of the shower and grabbed a plush towel from the nearby rod. It was then that I noticed the left hand door was cracked. I was almost sure I'd shut both doors when I climbed in the shower. Joyce had spoken to me from behind that door, perhaps she opened it crack so I could hear her. If she had chanced to look in, she would have seen the blurred image of my naked body through the glass of the shower door. At least I hoped she had.

After getting dressed in shorts and a polo shirt, I went downstairs to check the doors. Though sunset was a good hour away, there was an eerie, darkening stillness settling over the neighborhood. I peeked outside and saw dark gray clouds and tall thunderheads filling up the western sky. Rain would certainly put a damper on a lot of weekend plans. Stephanie and Danny had probably already arrived at the lake, and who knew if this storm front would reach that far north.

After a while Joyce came downstairs, dressed in a sleeveless white blouse and tan shorts. Her blond hair was still damp from the shower. She kissed me, softly, deeply, and squeezed her body up against mine. It was surprising, and most welcome. In those early days I was never quite sure in which direction our new physical intimacy would lead. I was inexperienced, and cautious. Joyce, smart as she was, sensed this and knew how to bring me along.

"You are a darling," Joyce said as our lips parted. "Let me get you something to eat. You must be starved after working all day."

Expert in the kitchen, she was able to throw together a delicious pasta dish with garlic bread and a salad. She had a salad, but seemed to enjoy watching me eat more than having any interest in food herself. We talked about our respective days and then Joyce said, apropos of nothing that Barbara had called earlier and said she couldn't make the trip this weekend.

I said I was sorry, but Joyce quickly responded, "Oh, it's okay. I didn't really feel much like going."

I asked if I then needed to return to my apartment since she wouldn't need a house-sitter for the weekend.

"Certainly not! I want you to keep me company this weekend, that is, if it's alright with you."

It absolutely was!

We continued to talk and laugh as we finished our dinner. While we cleared the table the skies opened and a warm, steady rain began to fall. I looked out to see raindrops pelting the pool, sending out dozens of overlapping ripples over the surface of the water. We heard thunder in the distance.

Once the dishes were loaded, Joyce suggested we go out on the back porch with some tea and watch the rain. That sounded like a great idea.

We sat on a glider and admired the small but beautiful back yard that was Joyce's pride and joy. She turned, resting against the arm of the glider and placed her bare feet in my lap. I began to massage them, making her smile and close her eyes, purring like a kitten.

The wind picked up, whooshing through the tall trees on the back of the property. In the space of what seemed like a scant few seconds, the temperature dropped noticeably. The cool air felt wonderful after days of oppressive heat and humidity.

"Ummm," Joyce said. "This is so nice."

"Ummm hmmm," I responded.

"You know last week, before our little bit of fun in the bathroom, I was having lunch at the club with Barbara. Our table was right next to the window that overlooks the pool. It was a break and you were swimming some laps. We were both mesmerized watching you. You're so graceful and athletic in the water. Your stroke, your turns, you make it look so easy." I smiled, flattered by the attention. "Barbara kept going on about you that I think she wanted you." That made me grin in embarrassment. "I wanted you, too, but I had to make absolutely sure I'm not taking advantage of you."

In my naïve youth I wasn't quite sure what Joyce was trying to say. I just said, "Believe me, you're not. I really like spending time with you."

"You're mature beyond your years, Nick. I think that's the problem right now with girls your own age. They want excitement. Even good girls your age are drawn to bad boys and you're a gentleman. But in a few years, when they've settled down and know what's really important, it's a boy like you they'll turn to."

"I hope you're right."

I hadn't really thought of it that way. Joyce's perspective was very helpful to my self-esteem. Joyce's attention in general was very helpful to my self-esteem.

We sat for a few minutes in silence. I continued massaging her feet while we watched the rain fall. The occasional flash of lightning bathed the yard in pale light, then darkness returned almost as fast as it had fled from the lightning's intrusion, followed by rolling thunder. If I closed my eyes I could hear it echoing for a long distance.

CRACK!

We both started in surprise at a wholly unexpected thunderclap. The lightning and the clap were nearly instantaneous, which meant the lightning was close by. We laughed at our reaction, but then the air conditioning unit by the side of the house stopped and the lights inside flickered, faded, then went dark. Now the only sound was the wind and rain.

"Oh well," Joyce said with a sigh. "We weren't using the lights anyway."

A long silence followed as we looked at one another.

Finally she asked, "Would you like to go upstairs and make love?"

I froze, not sure if I heard her right. A sly smile crept across my face. Yes, I most certainly did! But I wasn't sure what to do. My hope was that Joyce would show me.

"I-I w-would," I stammered in reply, which she found endearing. "Very much, I would. But I'm not sure of what I'm doing. I mean, I want to do it right."

Joyce pulled her feet off my lap and pushed herself upright. She leaned in toward me and planted a soft kiss on my lips.

"I can show you, if you like."

"I'd love that."

She got off the glider and reached out toward me with both hands, helping me up.

"C'mon, let's go play."

As we walked through the kitchen and the dining room and up the front stairs, I had the sensation of passing through a time portal, embarking on a life-changing experience. Many times I had imagined doing this with Joyce, but I could never let myself believe it would actually happen. Her charm, good humor, elegance, and beauty all combined to form a deeply desirable woman. Any man would feel very lucky to be in my shoes just then. The wide gulf in our years and experience had seemed unbridgeable...until that evening.

We paused every few steps to kiss, then after some moments continued our journey upstairs. At the landing I panicked a little. Sensing my anxiety, Joyce asked, "What's wrong?"

"Well," I said with a good deal of hesitation. "It's my first time and all."

"Yes, I know, darling."

"What if I finish too fast?"

Joyce smiled and kissed me again.

"Don't you worry about that, sexy boy. You're going to be great. I can tell."

Like everything else in the house, Joyce's bedroom was tastefully decorated. There were two wall hangings, and the furniture was classic and understated. Lace curtains and blinds adorned the windows. She walked over to the bureau and lit a candle that cast soft, flickering light around the room.

"Give me two seconds," she said as she disappeared into the bathroom.

When she returned her blouse and shorts had been replaced by a summer-weight robe. Its length, or lack of it, gave me an ample view of her shapely thighs. She came over to where I stood at the foot of the bed.

"Let's get you naked, shall we?"

She helped me out of my shirt and shorts, discovering to her delight that I wasn't wearing undershorts.

"Oh, yes," she whispered. "This is what I've been dreaming about. How about you?"