Alternate Memories - Dayton

July 1966

Thursday dawned exactly the way every day I'd been here this week; hot! Again it was almost 80 degrees at 7 a.m. It wasn't quite as bad as some of the high humidity days in Virginia, but after five miles of my morning run, I was ready to quit. The alcohol from the night before wasn't helping either. I don't think it was a true "hangover," but I've felt better.

Breakfast was a fried egg sandwich with cheese and mayo on toast. I'd made these for years and anyone who ever saw one always wanted one too. John and Dave were nowhere to be found this time of the morning, so today, I just made one. With some time to kill, I wrote a letter to my parents, bringing them up to date on my stay so far. It was definitely a G rated letter so I told them about the trip to Island Park and down the river and my conversation with Norb. By the time it was done, it was almost 10 o'clock.

Once again Maribeth was on her front porch. Again, she was wearing a white sleeveless blouse and denim shorts. Her tan sandals were on her feet and she surprised me when I saw she was also wearing a Cincinnati Reds baseball cap.

She got in the car, but before she had a chance to kiss me, I said, "it looks like you figured it out." She removed her cap and looked at the big "C" on the front. Then turning towards me she smiled and said, "you're not as clever as you think you are." Then, she kissed me.

I have always been a "fair weather" baseball fan. In the mid-50's I lived for awhile in Washington D.C. and sort of followed the old Senators. They were always terrible and finished in last place every year. Later when we lived in California, I followed the San Francisco Giants with Willie Mays, Willie McCovey and Juan Marachal. When I came to the U.D. I sort of paid some attention to the Reds.

With the top down it was a bright day, so I asked Maribeth what happened to her yellow sunglasses. "Right here," was the response as they suddenly appeared from somewhere and she perched them on her perky nose. I noticed that Maribeth had pinned her hair up in a different manner than usual and I assumed it was to accommodate the baseball cap. I asked and she nodded.

We headed south on the new interstate 75 which had been completed the previous summer. It cut the drive to Cincinnati almost in half. With light traffic on the road I soon had 'Charlie' up to about 85 mph which was about as fast as I had ever driven him. The engine was absolutely growling and I liked the feeling of power that seemed to flow from the engine, through the gas pedal into me. I thought it was almost sexual in it's intensity. Soon I backed off to a more legal 70 mph, and Maribeth looked over and said, "I felt it too."

Was this woman reading my mind, I wondered? I leaned over and asked "you felt what?" Turning, so her lips were close to my ear she said, "The power. I see why you like this car so much." I smiled at the compliment and said, "Someday I may find a long stretch of deserted road and see how fast he can really go." "I'd like to be there." Maribeth replied.

In 1967 the Reds played in Crosley Field, not far from where the Great Miami River flows into the Ohio. It was one of the oldest stadiums in the major leagues, having been built in 1912. It was also one of the smallest and one with some quirks. Because it was built of steel, there were a lot of obstructed view seats from the numerous support pillars. Also, unlike almost every other park, it had no bleachers in the outfield, just the fence and a huge scoreboard.

Today the Reds were playing the Los Angeles Dodgers. Typically, teams played three game series and this would be the first game of this one. Thursdays games were usually afternoon contests, Friday was always a night game and Saturday was usually in the afternoon, but sometimes at night. The Reds were in second place in the National League, eight games behind the Dodgers, so if they could win this series, they could close the gap.

Parking around the stadium was not only limited, but also expensive. We parked in an alley about a half a mile away that had the nice feature of being free. We were a little early, but I bought two tickets for $3 apiece and we went inside. There weren't many people in the stands yet, so we just wandered around a bit. The Red's were taking batting practice, so I watched them for a bit while Maribeth went off looking for the ladies room. Later, on our way to find our seats, I bought two hot dogs and two cokes. Another $2 gone.

We were about midway up the stands from the field on the third base side just into the shade provided by the roof of the grandstand. By the time the game started, I guessed there might be 9 to 10 thousand people, which meant the stadium was one third full. The pitching matchup was a good one, with Don Drysdale going for the Dodgers and Milt Pappas for the Reds.

Cincinnati had some really good players in 1967 who later in the 1970's played themselves into the Hall of Fame, such as Johnny Bench, Tony Perez, and Vada Pinson. Pete Rose was also on the team, but gambling has kept him out of the Hall despite having gotten more hits that anyone else in baseball history.

Maribeth asked some good questions, some of which I knew the answer to, and some I didn't. I was surprised by how much she did know though. When the Dodgers failed in an attempted hit and run play, she said, "he (the batter) needs to hit behind the runner." Another time, she correctly called an intentional walk to set up a double play opportunity.

Between innings and lulls in the action, we talked about all kinds of things; the "Dayton Daily News" was being sold to Scripps Publishing, Nixon was talking about instituting price controls, China seemed to be coming apart at the seams with their 'cultural revolution,' people were still trying to flee East Germany over the Berlin Wall. Madge thought I was cute, and we agreed that Norb and Kathy's relationship was weird.

I got us another hot dog and went totally crazy by also buying two beers which they had to pour into paper cups. I balanced the hot dogs on top of the two flimsy cups and returned to our seats. Since hot dogs, beer and myself all arrived mostly intact, I was pleased.

The Dodgers had scored in the first inning and while there were some threats from modest rallies, we got all the way to the seventh inning with the score 1-0. In the bottom of the seventh, after the traditional seventh inning stretch, Pete Rose singled and two outs later Tony Perez drove a ball into the scoreboard in center field for a home run to give the Red's a 2-1 lead which turned out to be the final score. Milt Pappas pitched the whole way for a complete game win and the Red's gained a game on the first place Dodgers.

As we walked back to the car, I told Maribeth that I wanted to show her something. A short drive later I pulled into a small park located at the junction of the Great Miami with the Ohio River. I parked the car and we got out and l leaned against the hood. I pulled Maribeth close and she leaned against me. I pointed out the spot where the currents from the two rivers joined and the intricate eddys and swells that were created as the two bodies of water tried to accommodate their coupling. "Just like lovers," I said. Maribeth leaned her head back on my shoulder and just murmured, "hummm..."

A slight breeze blew off the river and helped alleviate the heat of the day, so we were comfortable. I was enjoying holding Maribeth, and she seemed very content to be held. My nose was buried in her hair and I was loving the smell; part shampoo, part sweat and all woman. Without saying much for the next ten minutes or so, we were mesmerized by the water and the pure joy of just being together. I remember those few minutes with great fondness.

Finally, breaking the spell, I asked Maribeth how she wanted to spend our evening together. There was a new movie that I said I'd like to see called "The Blue Max," about a German fighter pilot in World War I, or we could just go back to the house and hang. Maribeth didn't hesitate; "I can see a movie anytime, but my minutes with you are few," and her lips pressed against mine and our tongue's met in neutral territory, then danced around in each of our mouths. Of course I copped a feel of her breast before I opened her door. The ride back to Dayton was pleasant but uneventful.

We arrived around six p.m. No sign of my roommates, so I got two beers out of the refrigerator and we sat in the big wooden swing on the porch. Just across Nellie Ave. was the southernmost section of Woodland Cemetery, so as we sipped our beers, we looked out over the various headstones and monuments, some of which had flowers, but most didn't. I don't think either of us was thinking about what lay beneath, just how pretty the lush green grass and marble stones looked. My arm was around Maribeth and I was squeezing her thin shoulder, and one of her hands was stroking my bare thigh. When we kissed I could taste the beer on her breath, but it wasn't at all unpleasant.

I told Maribeth that I might be able to get us in to the Peter, Paul & Mary concert scheduled for the next day. Like Norb, she asked how I could do that for free, but I told her that I needed to check out something before I could tell her. Silently I was hoping that I hadn't promised something that I couldn't deliver on.

As the sun set over the cemetery, I suggested we go inside. Our beer cans were empty and I was looking forward to some cuddle time. When we closed the bedroom door, Maribeth grabbed me and said, "come here soldier." I had been dating her for over a year and I never tired of her kisses. She had this soft/hard way of kissing that I found most enjoyable.

When we broke, I pulled down the covers on the bed and Maribeth visited the bathroom. When she came out, she had removed her blouse and shorts, leaving her in just a bra and panties. She looked at me with a display of false modesty and said, "I was going to take everything off, but I thought you'd like the honor."

Well, I certainly did. I moved close and took her in my arms. "Whatever happened to shy demur Maribeth?" I asked. I felt her laugh and she leaned forward and whispered in my ear, "She met this man who turned her into a little slut." I guessed she was talking about me.

As I preferred, I fell to one knee and pulled the elastic of her panties wide enough to slip over the curve of her hips. As the soft cotton slipped down her legs it revealed her still bare pubic mound, and since I was at exactly the right height, I leaned forward and kissed her there. It was obvious that Maribeth had shaved it again since there was absolutely no trace of stubble. I pursed my lips and ran them over all of the exposed femininity that I could find.

After a moment, I rose and stepped back to look at Maribeth who stood in front of me, naked except for her white bra. I don't know why, but I love to look at her in this bottomless state of undress. In some subliminal way, I find myself more turned on than if she was completely naked. Maribeth knew this and she let me take her in, and as I feasted my eyes she would shift her weight from leg to leg, emphasizing the curve of one hip and then the next.

Finally I stepped forward and reached behind her and unclasped her bra with two hands and slipped it down her arms and off. Maribeth's breasts gave a delicious bounce when freed from confinement and settled onto her chest. I took one nipple into my mouth as my hand cupped the other breast, then I switched.

Maribeth let me play for a while, but I wondered if she was getting tired of being the only one in the room who was naked. As if she was reading my mind, she pulled my shirt out of my shorts and pushed it over my head. I thought she would continue undressing me, but she stepped forward and threw her arms around my neck. This brought our lips together and she pressed her soft porcelain tits into my chest. I don't know how that felt to her, but I thought it felt great.

A few minutes later we were both naked under the covers snuggled against one another. It seemed that our favorite position was me on my back with Maribeth laying on her side with her right leg draped over mine. Her head rested on my shoulder in the crook of my right arm. In this position she was able to move her right arm and I could move my left. We were both playing, she with the hair on my chest, me with strands of her hair that had come undone.

She spoke first, "I can't believe it's only been a month since Norfolk, not only have you made me a woman in truth, but I've never been so happy in my life. Is this what soulmates feel like?" At the ripe old age of 22, I didn't think I was qualified to speak on the subject of what souls do, so I just sort of shrugged my shoulders. Apparently, Maribeth wasn't expecting an answer, because she continued, "I love being naked with you, your body is so different, it's a nice feeling. I feel protected." "Protected from what?" I asked. Now it was her turn to shrug her shoulders.

We'd been in bed for about thirty minutes and neither of us had succumbed to the urge to play with our boy or girl parts. I would have had to partially untangle myself to get to Maribeth's, but she was quite able to reach me, and she did. I felt the warm hand that had been caressing my chest reach down and grasp my manhood and give a gentle squeeze. At first there was no reaction but as I felt the heat of her hand surround me I began to sense a slight tingle that signaled that blood was on its way.

Maribeth seemed content to just hold me as she made no overt attempt at further stimulation. This was fine with me, I loved the feeling of her soft hand and I was mentally in that never never land that exists at the boundary of sleep. I sensed that Maribeth was there too. I felt her regular breathing and I could tell her eyes were closed. I was literally as comfortable as I had ever been in my life and my mind seemed to have shut down all unnecessary thoughts and urges. I found that Maribeth's weight on me as well as the heat of her body was akin to a massage with no moving parts.

My reverie was finally disturbed when the arm that was cuddled under Maribeth started to go to sleep. I had to move it, so I rolled her onto her back and I snuggled up next to her. It was the same general position we had been in except we had swapped positions. Now Marybeth's girl parts were in easy reach. Like the kid in the candy store, I didn't know what to reach for first. Breasts won, but only because they were nearer.

I suppose that like most men I am fascinated by these soft mounds of flesh that hang from women's chests. When standing they just seem to jut out proudly as one of the defining features of a woman's body. Bending over, their weight pulls them down and every little move sends them in motion. With Maribeth now on her back they've flattened into a pancake shape.

I cup one breast and it fills my hand as I roll it around feeling its liquid softness. The nub of the nipple starts to harden as I play, but it really engorges when I pinch it gently and roll it with my fingers. Both tits are within easy reach so I alternate. I can't reach the right one with my lips so the left one gets all of my oral attention. When I started, Maribeth just laid and let me fondle her, but now I feel her starting to respond. One of her hands covers mine and presses down on it, her other hand finds her free breast and imitates my actions. Her closed eyes signal that she's beginning to lose herself in her own pleasure, and the soft mews she's making confirm it.

I feel Maribeth move the leg that I'm not pinning down with my own. I can't see it since it's under the covers, but I take it as an invitation to explore. My left hand cups her mound, now easily accessible and my second finger slips easily into her furrow. It is nicely moist and the oily evidence of her arousal leads me to her open vagina. I penetrate her with my finger and I feel her squeeze down in it. A sharp intake of breath follows when I curl my finger inside and search for her g-spot. I haven't tried this before, so I'm not completely sure I know what I'm doing.

I've read that what I'm looking for is an area of firmer skin lining the front part of the vagina. To my fingers, the inside all feels warm, soft and oily. I probe around and press firmly where it should be located. I can't say that I definitely found it, but by Maribeth's responses I must have gotten close. Her leg squeezed my hand in her pussy and I felt her hand, the one that had been playing with her breast, suddenly come down and add some additional pressure. Her vaginal muscles were working hard when she came.

I had learned that when one of her pleasure waves broke Maribeth wanted all stimulation to cease, because she just became too sensitive. This didn't mean that I was allowed to remove myself though. As wave after wave rocked her, my finger was locked inside and my hand was imprisoned by her pale thighs. Her breaths had turned to gasps as the dam burst and it was going to take a long time for her to come down. The air was filled with pheromones and aromas that attacked my senses. In the past I had described this special smell as the "well fucked woman."

This time it was only a "finger fucked woman," but it was the same aroma.

After a few moments, I felt Maribeth's body begin to relax and she took a really deep breath and when she let out the air her eyes opened and she looked into mine.

The word "wow" floated on her next breath and "just wow," soon followed. I removed my finger from her vagina and rubbed her juices on my lips. As always the taste of her arousal was both musky and sweet and I licked my lips and my fingers. Maribeth watched for only a few seconds when I felt her hand reach for my neck and she pulled my lips to hers. It seemed this mutual tasting of our bodily fluids was becoming a ritual part of our lovemaking. I mentioned how 'intimate' I thought the act was and Maribeth replied, "Isn't it."

We resumed our previous cuddle position and our conversation turned to the topic of sex in general and our sexual relations in particular. Maribeth started out by telling me that she had occasionally masturbated since she was about 15. It wasn't a frequent activity since she thought she'd engage maybe twice a month. She described the time she had gotten a hand mirror to see what was really going on "down there." She explained that vaginal penetration really didn't do anything for her, but stimulating her clit certainly did. It must have taken her several attempts before she got the technique down but she said her first orgasm hit her by surprise.

I mentioned that in the times we had shared lately, that it seemed to me that this happened frequently with her. She'd be peacefully going with the flow, when "bam," there was an explosion in the engine room. Maribeth laughed at my analogy, but agreed that it did describe her situation.

The reason she had brought the subject up however was because she wanted me to know that my digital fingering had triggered an orgasm that was several times more massive than anything she had ever achieved by herself. I mentioned my attempt to find her g-spot and said that I didn't think she could work her own hand into the correct position to reach it. She smiled at this comment and said, "then I'll just have to keep you around."

As for me, I told her that I thought I began my own sexual self examination with the onset of puberty, which for me was about the age of 12. Apparently some of my playmates were slightly ahead of me because I remembered that I was aware of the activity before I could achieve it. My first attempt did yield some modest results; a clear thin liquid that seemed to coincide with a nice tingling feeling, however it took a few more years to mature to where I felt the powerful pulsations that I now feel.