Feeling Kind of Lucky

Back when I was in college, I met a gorgeous young girl at an outdoor Jazz Festival in my home town at the end of Summer, just a few weeks before I would return for my senior year at the university in the opposite end of the state. As Stanley Turrentine honked some righteous riffs on his sax, I spotted an exceptionally tall, slender blonde standing some 75 feet away on the other side of the crowd.

While there were quite a number of good-looking women at this Labor Day festival, I could not take my eyes off of her. She was six feet tall with shoulder-length, naturally blonde hair and the longest legs I'd ever seen emerging from her shorts. I gulped down the beer in my hand, got another one, and decided to get a closer look. You see, I was feeling kind of lucky that day.

I made my way around the perimeter of the crowd toward her, tripping several times since my eyes were glued to the tall beauty. Downing my beer in three gulps, I approached her from the side, standing about 5 feet away. I could tell now that she was indeed very tall, since I am 6' 2", and she was almost as tall as I, which put our eyes in the same plane. When she turned in my direction, I removed my dark sunglasses and smiled. She smiled back, her eyes lingering just a little longer than a casual glance before she turned her gaze back toward the band.

If she was merely beautiful from afar, then she was stunning up close. That smile looked like it belonged on the cover of Vogue, and her clear, ultra-blue eyes reminded me of a cloudless New Mexico sky. Occasionally, she would curl her blonde hair over her right ear, the delicate curves and folds of which were somehow evocative of her physique as a whole. As she did this it brought attention to her beautiful hands--long, slender fingers with well-manicured nails and simple, clear polish. Those hands moved with such grace and aplomb, just like her entire body did as she swayed to the sounds of the cool jazz.

She would lick her lips once in a while, and I could tell as her tongue glided across them how supple and alluring they were. She was very fair-skinned but had a light, even tan that only highlighted her utterly blemish-free complexion. At her hairline just above the temple, I noticed a tiny bead of perspiration forming in the heat of the late afternoon. It finally ran slowly down her neck and disappeared momentarily beneath her white semi-transparent blouse, only to reappear as it blotted through the fabric over her right breast, revealing a rigid, slightly upturned nipple the size of those red rubber erasers you fit over the end of a pencil. Her breasts, a perfect 34/35C, swayed in time with the music, and the buttons on her blouse would occasionally gap open for me to catch a glimpse of her naval, itself a veritable sexual organ I imagined licking and fingering.

The beige shorts she wore were an open-weave linen and, while not tight, did drape suggestively across her round buns, which jiggled just enough to confirm their youthful taught firmness. I dreamed of kneading them with lotion. And, of course, those legs: I have never seen before or since such good-looking gams, yards of them, slender yet somewhat muscular, smooth, a perfect compliment to her long, graceful arms. The song came to an end, and I swallowed hard. Time to speak to this goddess. You see, I was feeling pretty lucky that day.

I asked her if she liked Jazz, and she said she did, naming Dave Brubeck, Thelonius Monk, and a few other favorites. She did not know of or realize that it was Stanley Turrentine that we were listening to live at the festival, so I told her a bit about him and his recordings as we continued to dance to his sizzling saxophone. While we mostly listened to the music, we would occasionally converse: Zoe said she was a senior, (more on that later), was into equestrian stuff (you know what they say about women and horses), and did some fashion modeling (no surprise there).

At that moment, I realized that the girl adjacent to her--the one who had been shooting me dirty looks from the time I first walked up--was WITH this beauty I'd just met. This gal told Zoe she had to go home, and I checked my watch for the time. 4:45 PM. CRAP!!! I had to eat dinner with my parents and grandparents at 5:00 PM. It was my dear grandfather's 80th birthday, my mother was cooking something special, and I wouldn't miss this occasion for anything. I would barely make it on time if I left right then.

Things had been going so well, and now we both had to leave abruptly. I asked Zoe where she was parked, and she pointed in the same general direction where I was parked. I knew the downtown section of this city very well, and was able to provide some short-cuts to the parking area, but still had just enough time to make a date for that evening--without little miss dirty-look--as we walked to our cars. Zoe said she lived in a suburb that I associated with being a very high-end neighborhood and was a long way from where we were for the festival. Giving me her phone number, we agreed that I would phone her later so that we could then figure out just what we would do that evening.

As we neared the area where she said her car was parked, we continued to walk together, as my car was parked in this same area. Little miss dirty-look had by now become downright bitchy, but we tried to ignore her as much as possible, and I felt a kiss for Zoe would be out of the question with her mood-depressing presence. Just as I was about to say, "well, here's my car," so did Zoe. Of the tens of thousands of vehicles parked for the huge downtown music festival, she was parked right beside my car!!! And what an unlikely car for this young girl, a new Cadillac Seville! Hmmmm.

Our fast walk in the hot summer humidity had caused all of us to become quite sweaty, with perspiration dampening our clothes. Of particular interest were Zoe's linen shorts. I could not help but notice, as she bent into her car, that the fabric had conformed in her crotch to reveal the fleshy contours of her moist labia.

"I'll call you at 6:30," I shouted to Zoe as I dropped the top on my old Buick convertible.

I was not certain exactly what would happen that evening, but figured it would be good because, you see, I was feeling pretty lucky that day.

I raced home and got there just in time for dinner with my parents and grandparents, although my mind was completely on Zoe. I inhaled my food, made a few cursory pleasant remarks, and headed to a quiet part of the house and phoned Zoe at 6:29 PM. I must have let it ring 40 times, but there was no answer!!! I called again and again, but still no answer. Had this beauty given me a fake number? Or had the whole incident been a figment of my imagination? My formerly erect member was beginning to lose some of its tumescence. Nonsense, keep calling! Finally, at almost eight o'clock, Zoe answered the phone. I could hear some reluctance in her voice. Oh no! She's backing out!

Nonsense, close the deal, make the date! Zoe explained that she got in a huge traffic jam on the way back from dropping off little miss dirty-look, and had just walked in the door.

She then said the most curious thing, "I didn't really think you were going to call me, but I'm glad you did."

That explained the reluctance I heard before, so I got directions and told her I'd be there at 9:00 PM. Of course, such a hasty exit from my home meant that I had to be rude to my family, and I had to drive 85 MPH to make it by 9:00, but, hey, you do what you gotta do. After all, this gal was awesome, and I was feeling particularly lucky that evening.

So I get to Zoe's house, actually Zoe's parents' house as it turned out, on time. I meet her brother and her parents--very young looking parents, indeed. They were all very pleasant, engaging, and quite open-minded--good signals. Zoe and I jump into my old drop-top and head to a nearby fern bar, where we proceed to get better acquainted and consume a couple carafes of sauvignon blanc.

We were just about the only people in there, which was good because there was nothing to prevent us from touching each other a lot as we talked or any noisy distractions. Zoe had changed into a very simple though incredibly alluring outfit: a very short black leather skirt and a tight, white tee-shirt nearly punctured by her pencil-eraser nipples atop extra-firm medium-sized breasts. Her yards of slender legs only accentuated the shortness of the skirt. Her feet were simply the pedial equivalent of her beautiful hands--extraordinarily long digits connected artfully to long, dramatically arched soles.

She had slipped one foot from its sandal and, as we laughed about her bitchy "friend," carefully slipped her toes up my shorts and wiggled them against the tip of my growing penis. We finished our wine, and decided to take a drive in my convertible. As soon as we got in, our lips met in a deep French kiss as we simultaneously thumbed each other's right nipples. I truly believe she would have made love right there in the parking lot beneath the ultra-bright sodium vapor lights, which usually, by the way, make people look kind of sick. Not so Zoe--she was beautiful as ever, exotic, erotic, and was mine tonight. After all, I was feeling pretty darn lucky.

Zoe and I head out of the eastern suburbs into "the country," top down, wind in our hair, and stereo blasting to the tunes of The Talking Heads, The Squeeze, and Devo. Taking back roads to ever more remote back roads, I finally find a suitable soybean field and pull into it. I immediately proceed to remove Zoe's clothes, which was incredibly easy, since her only garments were the white tee shirt and leather skirt.

I said, "you're not wearing any panties."

And she said, "I know, when I changed, I figured they would only get in the way and slow us down."

I liked this girl's way of thinking! Here she is naked in five seconds, and I had to take off socks, shoes, undershorts, shorts, undershirt, and polo shirt. Since she helped, we got them off in fairly short order.

I can honestly say I have never seen--in person, movies, fashion shows, anywhere--a more beautiful woman than Zoe, and we're about to have sex!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Her young breasts were so firm and sucking their nipples--already like pencil erasers to begin with, caused them to become even more rigid and project, I swear, a full inch from the areola. She moaned softly as I squeezed and licked and sucked them. Every part of her body was utterly sexual, the side of her neck, her ears, the small of her back, her feet, the backs of her knees, her long arms and hands, and I explored and pleasured every square inch of her ravishing physique.

And then her genitals. Oh my. In the black interior of my car I simply could not see well enough, so we crawled out onto the hood of the old convertible, lay a big beach towel from the trunk on it, and got down to some serious sex. Following my instructions for a 69, on her hands and knees, she faced the front of the car and backed towards me as I slipped my face up-torso beneath her and viewed those genitalia, glistening wet in the moonlight. I pulled her large labia between my lips and licked her clitoris, which was readily accessible and hard as she licked my extremely rigid penis from base to tip and back again and again.

She then licked her own large and rigid nipple and rubbed it against the underside of my penis as she tickled my scrotum with her fingertips. As I licked and sucked her delicious bottom from clitoris hood to the bottom of her backbone and back with ever quickening pace, pausing only to circle her clitoris and anus with my long tongue, she took my throbbing penis within her warm mouth and in one continuous sucking motion, swallowed its entire seven inches and just held it steady while maintaining a hard vacuum. Had she not squeezed its base very hard with her lips, I would have erupted right then and there. But I held back somehow, because I knew I was some kind of lucky, and we were only getting started in that soybean field.

By this point, Zoe was so wet that her juices were pooling in the divot of my neck, so I drenched both hands in her delicious fluids and mounted her from behind, using my wet hands to massage her breasts and nipples at the same time. As I entered her, she let out a moan that I will never, ever forget. Had it not come from her mouth, I would have sworn it emanated from some exotic animal of the jungle--a primal sound that any living thing would understand as meaning "this is so damn good!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

The hood of an old Buick is a pretty large space, and we utilized all of it in every possible position. She climbed atop me, I resting my back against the windshield and she flat-footed on the hood copulating straight up and down on my penis, not unlike the pistons churning wildly within the rings of the big V-8 engine just beneath us.

Her large labia would disappear into her vagina as I plunged in, only to reappear a split-second later as my thick penis withdrew. Her breasts, covered in exaggerated beads of sweet perspiration, heaved and swayed in the moonlight until I would reach up to push them together, squeezing the moisture into a little stream that ran down her tummy, across her belly button, and then merged at her genitalia in a confluence of sweat, vaginal fluids, and saliva. Yes, I had a feeling this was a lucky day, and I certainly felt like the luckiest man alive.

In a word, this was GREAT! A dream come true. I could give many more details about what happened on the hood of my old Buick that night, but let me end this portion by saying that we were there for some 2 and a half hours and had more orgasms that we even bothered to count, and the hood of the car, though extra strong and thick like they all were back in those days, suffered a slight indentation when viewed in proper light! Of course I never did turn it in to State Farm, since I really did not want to explain how I regarded the whole incident as truly "comprehensive coverage."

In the few weeks before I had to go back to college 400 miles away, Zoe and I got together every couple of days for more fun. It was during this time period that I discovered she was a HIGH SCHOOL senior. Since she looked a few years older than 18, when she mentioned she was a "senior" before, I naturally thought she was a college senior. Her parents knew I was twenty-two and soon to be twenty-three, but were always totally cool with our relationship and would even find reasons to leave us alone at their house: "We're going to go get ice cream and won't be back for about an hour." Near the end of September, I left to return to college, and we wrote each other back and forth several times.

Naturally, I told my college roommate all these stories (a man does not truly complete his orgasm until he's told his best friend), and I showed him some of Zoe's modeling photos, too. (Cindy Crawford, Zoe's in town, get another job). Being horny guys with good imaginations, I asked my roomie if he'd be interested in all three of us hopping in bed together. Like he had to think about that for a while or something!!!

Zoe was going to be coming to my college town for an equestrian event she was competing in around Halloween, so I write Zoe a very carefully written letter proposing that she think about having sex with both of us simultaneously. She was at that phase in life where she liked experimenting, and as you already know by now, really loved sex. She wrote back and indicated she was very interested, although she had never met my roomie but had heard me speak fondly of him. I counted every minute until she arrived on Halloween weekend. After all, my roommate and I were feeling awfully lucky in those days.

Well, I thought Halloween would never arrive and counted virtually every minute until Zoe arrived. When she finally did, I was so glad to see her. It had been over a month since I had seen (read, made love with) her, so we had our "normal" two-hour multi-orgasmic terrific sex session as soon as she got to my apartment. We took a shower (more good soapy sex in there), wrapped towels around us, and went into the living room to cool off where the big window air conditioner was.

A little while later, my roommate arrived, and the expression "drop-dead gorgeous" always seems to best describe his reaction to meeting Zoe. He just about dropped dead from excitement! A few minutes later, the phone rings, and it's friends inviting us to a Halloween party where we must show up in costumes. Heck, we'd been so pumped up about a threesome with Zoe, we never even thought about Halloween and costumes. It's not exactly like college guys have costumes in their closets, and we weren't about to spend perfectly good beer money on a costume.

Being cheap and depraved, I suggested we strip naked, which would be as simple as Zoe and I removing our towels at that point, and go as nudists, but it was a good hike to the party and the forecast was for a low of 25 degrees that night, so I got out-voted on that one. I then began to rummage through some drawers and found several sets of long thermal white underwear. Zoe was 6 feet tall, and I was 6 feet two inches, so I figured it would fit the two of us. I had last washed them in hot water, and they fit skin-tight. Zoe said it reminded her of old-fashioned bed clothes, so we decided to round out that theme by fashioning old-timey stocking bed caps from some stretched-out tube socks and pulling those onto our heads.

I must say that this was a great idea in that this thermal underwear showed every delightful curve in Zoe's body and featured her name-brand rigid nipples quite prominently. Heck, they were so tight that it was even obvious that I had been circumcised! We were, in effect, nude, but would be quite comfortable in the cool evening air. My roomie put on the third pair, and we all got quite "friendly" as we dressed each other and slammed down a few brews. It seemed like the timing was right for our lucky days to culminate.

Yes, the time was nigh, and Zoe had that "are-you-guys-going-to-do-me-now-or-do-me-later-or-both?" look on her face. Answer: both, girlfriend. Thankfully, she really liked my roomie, as did most people, since he was such a nice and laid-back guy. I put some New Wave music (Zoe's favorite, despite her interest in Jazz) on my killer stereo, cranked the volume, poured her some white wine, and fired up some special smokes from a roll-your-own mix we kept on hand. We all began to dance and shake our booties, touching and brushing against each other as we did so.

The windows on this side of my second-story apartment faced those of the second-story apartment in the building parallel to mine, where an older gay gentlemen lived by himself. He'd made a pitiful pass at me the previous Thanksgiving when I ended up drinking most of the whiskey he'd brought over as he struggled to hold his, but he was a good soul. His windows were only about 15 feet away from mine. He loathed loud music and appeared right away with a frown on his face, but I pretended not to notice him. I figured this would be a good time to give him a little show, so we began to peel off our "bed clothes." My roomie's long half-erect penis was flailing about as he bumped butts with Zoe and I tweaked her big nipples and played with my own fully erect penis.

Funny thing, the neighbor's frown turned to pleased amazement as he gawked at our trio cavorting about naked. Although I'd never thought about such a thing before, I took my roomie's penis in my hand and led him over to Zoe's breasts and began to rub it against her wonderful nipples. Something about the gay neighbor watching this and knowing he had the hots for me made it especially stimulating, though I was not the least interested in this gentlemen or men generally. I must say that my roomie's throbbing penis in my hand stroking against Zoe's breasts as I fingered her wet vagina with my other hand was definitely appealing and surprisingly, very comfortable.