We Were Half a Million Strong

Regular disclosures-This story is for the Valentine's Day Story Contest 2024. This story is fiction. All participants are over 18 years old. Please forgive any grammatical mistakes. I was not an English major in college. I've done my best to clean up the spelling. My apologies ahead of time. This story begins in 1969. I've taken certain liberties in describing the scene at Woodstock, including how the characters were able to leave the event. Comments and strong ratings are important to me so thanks in advance. Enjoy reading We Were Half a Million Strong. NYBoss

We Were Half a Million Strong

Well, I came upon a child of God LINE 1
He was walking along the road LINE 2
And I asked him, "Tell me, where are you going?" LINE 3
And this he told me LINE 4
Said, "I'm going down to Yasgur's Farm LINE 5
Gonna join in a rock 'n' roll band LINE 6
Got to get back to the land LINE 7
Set my soul free.............. LINE 8
By the time we got to Woodstock LINE 9
We were half a million strong LINE 10
And everywhere was a song LINE 11
And a celebration. LINE 12

Woodstock - songwriter Joni Mitchell

Soon to be a physician, Steve Singer was one of the half-million strong. A 4th year medical student in San Francisco, he came back east to visit his parents who lived in the house he grew up in, north of The Bronx, in Yonkers, New York. He had two weeks off and he planned to spend the last few days of his vacation at Woodstock. When they first went on sale, he purchased a ticket. The organizers said there were scheduled to be fifty thousand in attendance. Little did they know.

He had flown home, two weeks before the festival was going to begin. After spending time with his parents and friends, he had planned to stay for the concert for the first two nights, August 15 and 16, leaving in the early morning hours on the 17th. He had to be back in San Fransico on August 18. He had ten months before he would start his residency, one year in General Medicine followed by six years of General Surgery and one or two years as a Fellow in Trauma surgery. He was hoping to match in New York City, Boston or Philadelphia. While San Francisco was a great city, it was too far from his family.

When he was home he ran into his old girl friend from high school. Marcy Storm. She was in the local bakery on Tuckahoe Road in Yonkers when Steve walked in. She was in town for a wedding dress fitting as she was getting married in a few weeks. She got her degree in History and was now finishing up law school in Boston. Her husband-to-be was also a lawyer. They were living in Boston, and planned to stay in the Bay state.

"Wow, you're getting married. Can we meet for pizza tonight to catch up?"

"That would be great."

"Congratulations on the wedding. Sounds like a great guy,"

"He is. We have a lot in common."

Steve thought, "She didn't sound very enthusiastic." Still, he wished her well. He was looking forward to catching up that night.

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It was often Steve, and to the same extent, Marcy thought about their two months together. They were an item, for those two months, even going to the senior prom together. But he was going to school in California, as he was flying out to Los Angeles the first week of July to live with his aunt until school started at UCLA and with Marcy going to school in Boston, they both were smart enough to know that a long-distance romance was not going to happen. Therefore, they were going to make the most of the Prom weekend.

After the prom they were going to spend the weekend, not down at the Jersey Shore, where they told their parents they were going with friends for the weekend, but in New York City. Steve had saved enough money to stay in the city. He looked older than his eighteen years old, being six-foot one inch tall, weighing a sturdy one hundred ninety pounds. He was very strong and was a champion wrestler during his high school years. He had black hair and looked like he had a perpetual five o'clock shadow on his face. He looked to be in his twenties. Marcy was a natural blonde with an impressive 36C set of tits. At five foot eight inches tall with long legs, she was beautiful. She often wore red nail polish and red lipstick with a minimal amount of eye makeup. She did not need it to highlight her beautiful blue eyes.

Both Marcy and Steve were not virgins, each losing their cherry when they turned eighteen years old, some four months before the prom. For Marcy it was over quickly, in two minutes, as she hooked up with her brother's friend. All he wanted to do was cum on her bush. He would have to yank the condom he was wearing off his cock in order to do that. Marcy wasn't taking any chances of getting pregnant. Nothing came from this tryst. She didn't care. She just wanted to lose her cherry. She wasn't looking for romance.

Steve lost his cherry to his mom's best friend. He was over fixing a bookshelf when Sandra O'Connell excused herself for a few minutes. When Steve yelled that he was finished, Sandra asked if he could take a look at something else. The something else was Sandra standing in the bedroom naked. A busty natural red-head, she shood with her legs apart, her wet slit framed by her full, ginger bush.

"Come here," she said. "I need help with this." She leaned back on the bed and spread her legs. "Looks like you can use some help as well." She noticed a hard cock outlining his crotch. "Are you a virgin?"

"I am, but I guess that will be history in a few minutes."

"First, I'm going to teach you how to eat pussy. He took the instruction well and in minute, with his head pushed into her crotch, Sandra was screaming out as she came. "Fuck, oh fuck. I'm cumming, cumming." Her hips were in overdrive moving up and down off the bed. "Don't fucking stop. Cummmiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing."

A few minutes later she grabbed hold of his cock, slid it up and down her wet slit and finally shoved it into her soaked pussy. Steve did what came naturally, at least as natural as what he saw while watching stag films.

Steve was glad that she was cumming quickly. He wasn't going to last, this first time in a woman's pussy. "I'm cumming too." He was not wearing a condom, but Sandra couldn't care less.

"Cum in my pussy." And he did. One, two, three ropes of his cum coated the inside of her pussy and a few smaller drops onto her bush.

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Now Marcy and Steve were on their way to a great weekend. While Steve and Marcy had hooked up previously, grabbing a quick fuck when they could, this weekend was going to be something special. Marcy had recently started on birth control pills.

They were shown to their room at the Plaza Hotel. Steve purchased tickets for Showboat for Saturday after a dinner at Mama Leone's. They would have brunch on Sunday before they went back to Yonkers.

They placed their luggage into the closet and Marcy wasted no time in removing her clothes. She was naked in seconds and so was Steve. He stared at her, her ample tits with very hard nipples showing prominently on her chest. His eyes moved down to the thick, downy thatch of blond pubic hair. "See anything you like?"

With his larger than average size cock sticking straight out from his groin, harder than ever before, he replied, with a grin, "See anything you like?"

They flopped into the bed and embraced. They began kissing, with Steve's hands finding Marcy's tits and nipples while Marcy reached out and began stroking Steve's cock. A few minutes later he started sucking on Marcy's nipples, nipples that were hard like diamonds.

"I love your tongue on my nipples. You're making them so hard."

"Let's suck each other," Marcy said after about thirty minutes of foreplay.

On his back was Steve. Marcy lowered her fleece lined pussy down to Steve's face while running her lips along Steve's erection. Steve started by licking up and down Marcy's slit as Marcy teased Steve's cock head. They sucked each other, avoided cumming, for about twenty minutes. Steve was surprised he lasted that long.

"Come up here," Steve said, as he moved his tongue off of Marcy's pussy.

Marcy met him with a long sensuous kiss as Steve eased her head down on the pillow. "Let me play with you," he said as he moved down the bed.

Marcy spread her legs. "I'm on the pill, so we go bareback tonight."

Steve nodded his approval.

He moved his face between the legs and began licking Marcy's lips, avoiding, for now her clit. He jolted her my shoving two fingers into her pussy, which was now drenched. He began to finger fuck her and as he did she moved up and down off of the bed, crying out his name.

"Steve, Oh! Fuck Steve. Don't stop. Don't stop. You're going to make me cum."

He thought it was a good time to bring his tongue to her clit. When his tongue touched just the tip, she started screaming. Then he locked his lips around the clit and began massaging the sensitive bud.

"Cummmiiiiiiiing. Cummmiiiiiiiiig. Oh God, I'm cummmmiiiing." She took her hands and held Steve's face against her quim, undulating her hips off the bed, Steve held on for dear life as he watched this beautiful woman have a great orgasm. The fluid that came from her pussy soaked the bed.

"You're sleeping on this side," Steve laughed.

He rolled up to the pillows and she moved face-to-face with her lover.

"You knocked my socks off with your tongue."

"Glad you enjoyed. I want to make you cum again."

A few minutes later he asked Marcy to go on her knees. With her head buried in the pillow, he spread her cheeks, and slipped his cock into her wet pussy. He grabbed her hips and began to thrust into her. He wasn't playing around as he moved quickly, in and out, in and out, smacking his hips into her butt.

"My God, oh my Gooooooooooooooooooooood. Go faster, faster.................feels so fucking good." Marcy was so wet Steve had a hard time staying in her pussy. But he did.He kept pounding the wonderful sex of his girlfriend. Both of them were close to cumming. "I'm so close, Steve. So close. Don't stop. Don't you dare stop. Oh, what a great cock. So, fucking good. Oh, Oh,Oh.....................................I'm cumming, cummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmming!"

"Me too," yelled Steve as he filled her womb with spurt after spurt of his cum. He held onto her hips for a few minutes until he felt himself go soft and then moved back and to his side of the bed.

Marcy followed, curled next to Steve and said, "I'm thoroughly fucked. I've never cum this hard in my life. I'm going to miss you so much."

"The feeling is mutual," Steve replied.

They cuddled for a few minutes then fell asleep in each other's arms. The next day started with another fuck. This time with Marcy riding Steve's cock. Steve was busy playing with Marcy's tits and nipples as Marcy was moaning while sliding up and down on Steve's cock. She angled her body so Steve's cock touched her clitoris. She began to breathe heavily and started to shake as her impending orgasm was seconds away.

"Oh God, I'm cummmming, cummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmming. Yes." Now she was yelling. "Steve, cum with me, cum with me."

Steve shifted his cock into overdrive as he exploded, while squeezing Marcy's tits, sending his cum into his girlfriend's very wet pussy.

Marcy slumped off of Steve and fell next to him. She turned, gave him a kiss and said, "Good morning!"

Laughing, Steve replied, "And a good morning to you."

"I'm going to take a shower so we can get out of here at a reasonable hour."

"Can I join you?"

"Nooooooooooooooo. Maybe tomorrow morning." Marcy stepped into the bathroom and started the shower.

They went out for breakfast, went to a museum, had dinner at Mama Leone's then went to see Showboat, and later, walked around the city until they wound up back at the Plaza. They made love most of the night with Marcy crying out her orgasm after orgasm as Steve's cock was relentless, providing her with so much pleasure.

When the sunlight came into the room on Sunday morning, the sleepy heads, reluctantly, opened their eyes. As much as they wanted to, there would not be one last fuck. Marcy was sore and so was Steve. They showered together with Steve going down on Marcy giving her one last orgasm.

After brunch in the city, Steve dropped Marcy off at her house, saying goodbye one last time. Marcy started crying and tuned and ran into her house.

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It was the last time he saw until he ran into her earlier today. They met at Carlo's Restaurant, a great place for the kids from Roosevelt High School for lunch. Now they were having dinner.

For two hours, over pizza and salad, they talked about law school and medical school. Steve told Marcy there was no special girl he was seeing. He dropped her off at her parent's house.

"We could have made this work," Marcy remarked. There was a touch of sadness in her voice.

"Perhaps, but long-distance romances are usually a train wreck waiting to happen."

"Steve, it was good seeing you again," Marcy said while trying to control her emotions.

"It was great catching up. Good luck with your wedding. I only wish the best for you."

Marcy turned and gave him a kiss that reminded him of the senior prom. She opened the door, stepped inside and closed it quickly.

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Steve went back to his parent's house wondering what might have been. His thoughts quickly changed to his going to Woodstock. He was going by himself as some of his friends either were not available to go or didn't want to go. The next few days went by quickly. Saying goodbye to his parents he took off early on Thursday morning. With the festival scheduled to start on Friday evening with Richie Havens leading off, he wanted to find a place for his car that would allow him to leave very early on Sunday morning. He was prepared to walk to a site that would allow him to hear the music. He packed a pop-up two-person tent and provisions for the two days.

As he was driving to Bethel, he realized that there could possibly be more than the expected fifty-thousand people attending the festival. He arrived and the grounds were filling up. He found a farm, located about two miles from the center of activity.

He knocked on the door and explained his dilemma of leaving real early on Sunday to head back to medical school. "Sir, can I park my car here? I'll give you some money."

"Where you going to school?"

"UCSF."

"I grew up in the Bay area. Just pull your car over here. I reckon that there will be many more people than expected. Let me give you information on how to get out of here. You may have to head north to go south." Steve reached for his wallet. "Hold onto your money. It's no good here."

The farmer gave Steve directions on how to leave. Steve took out his tent and a large backpack. He began his two-mile walk. It was mid-afternoon when he pitched his tent by a small stream. He tossed his backpack into the tent. It was very warm, some eighty-five degrees. There were a number of mostly nude people wading in the stream, with some using the stream as a bathtub.

Steve was about ten yards from where people were entering the stream when he thought, "No, it can't be. No way that could be Miss Joan Trotta, his honors biology class teacher."

He moved closer and it was Miss Trotta, in all her naked glory. She was washing her large tits. They were bouncing as she was splashing water to rinse off the soap.

"Miss Trotta, is that you," Steve yelled in her direction.

She looked around, trying to locate where the voice came from. and found the familiar face. She didn't try to cover her tits. Her nipples were hard from the water. She looked up. "Steve, Steve Singer. Is that you?"

"I'm afraid it is." He was staring at her tits and her bush.

"Great, my former high school student is looking at me while I'm naked," Joan Trotta thought.

"Please turn around so I can get out. Otherwise, you'll see me completely naked."

"No sense in me doing that. I've been staring at you for over five minutes." He didn't turn around and focused his eyes on the junction of her legs framed by a large black bush. The triangle was thick and lush.

Getting out of the water Joan found her top to be too wet to wear. She wrapped her towel around her waist. Her towel was wet and too small and was unable to cover either her tits or her bush. Joan was next to him as he continued to stare at her tits.

"You wouldn't happen to have an extra shirt with you would you?" All she had with her was a small bag containing toiletries and a few tops that would be see-thru when wet. Her jean shorts were wet as she removed them when she was in the stream. They had become uncomfortable to wear. She rarely wore panties.

"I kind of like you the way you are," Steve laughed. "My masturbatory fantasies have come through."

"Really," Joan replied, raising one eyebrow, but she was smiling.

"You were hot then and you are certainly hot now." She was five years older than Steve. Joan was still smiling at his comment. She knew her tits were the center of attention for many of her students.

Steve tossed Joan a long football jersey. He watched as Joan let the towel drop to the floor. The jersey barely covered her ass. If she moved in the wrong direction, her bush would be on display. Still, she was happy for the dry jersey.

"You're enjoying yourself, aren't you?" Joan asked.

"More than you can imagine." Steve was now laughing. Joan was starting to laugh.

Are you here by yourself?" Steve asked.

"I came with my now ex-boyfriend. No sooner than we had pitched a tent, and I had gone for a short walk, I came back to find him fucking some tramp that wandered by out tent. He wanted me to stay and have a threesome, but I told him to 'go fuck himself.' I was confident that with all the people here I would find someone I could stay with and get a ride back to Yonkers. It looks as though you are that person." Joan smiled at him and blushed.

"You are welcome to stay with me although I have to leave very early on Sunday morning, like two am. I have a flight back to San Francisco on Monday."

"What's going on in San Francisco?"

For the next few hours, they caught up on the past seven years. Joan Trotta was the reason why Steve went into medicine. She was a great educator as she taught the AP Biology class at Roosevelt High School. She drove her students to reach their highest potential. For Steve it was getting a scholarship to UCLA and then to medical school at UCSF.

"So where will you be doing your residency?"

"I would like to go back east, preferably back to New York City. I won't know until the match in March." The National Resident Matching Program was established in 1952 at the request of medical students to provide an orderly and fair mechanism for matching the preferences of applicants for U.S. residency positions. "I'm going to be a trauma surgeon. One year of a medical residency, then six years of surgical residency and one or two years of a trauma surgery fellowship. And it's all because of you, you who had told us to reach for our dreams."

Tears started to roll down Joan's cheeks. Steve reach for a small towel and handed it to her.

"I'm sorry. I didn't expect that."

Steve smiled and said, "Perhaps I wouldn't have said that if I didn't see your tits."

Joan came right back, "Perhaps if I showed you my pussy, your words would have come quicker." She was laughing hysterically. So was Steve. "I need a place to hang. All I have is your jersey and a few things in this bag. I ran away with no food."