There's much to be said for knowing rich people, even if you aren't yourself. My best buddy from college, for example, is one of those guys whose family goes back generations, and every one of them invested wisely. Even he doesn't know how much money he has, but it's more than he'll ever need or be able to spend. Not that you'd know it if you met him- he swapped the BMW his parents gave him as a graduation present for a pickup truck.
One of the things John's family has owned forever is about ten acres of beach in what's now a fashionable resort area on the Oregon coast, complete with a huge old house. We used to spend a lot of weekends out there in college, fixing the place up, fishing for salmon in the coastal rivers, and drinking some Scotch in the evenings. I had served a hitch in the Navy before college, and John had spent a couple years bumming around Europe, so the cheap beer and loud obnoxious behavior that the campus weekend scene revolved around didn't do much for either of us. One of us might bring a female if we had one currently available, but they tended to get bored with our focus on tools and tackle. After graduation we moved a little further away, but still tried to get out there on a regular basis. Since would-be fishermen rented the place for $2000 a week when the family wasn't using it, I figured I was still coming out ahead in sweat equity- especially since John brought the Scotch and the drift boat.
This weekend, our plan was to tear out and replace a section of deck that was rotting out, and then see if the salmon were running. When I got there, I found that there had been a slight addition to the plans. John's uncle, who owns a big advertising agency in Portland, had decided to bring the agency running team out for the weekend to bond and look over the route for an upcoming race. In some states companies sponsor softball or golf- in Oregon you have a coed long distance running team. No big deal- it's a big enough house for everyone. The introductions were a blur to me except for Jennifer. She reached about the tip of my nose with a runner's slender build and blue eyes that lit up in a friendly smile that left me weak in the knees. I'm a little over 6' tall myself, so she was what I thought was a perfect size for easy kissing (WHOA! I just met this girl and that's the first thought?) Anyway, she was obviously pretty without working to make a big deal of it, and seemed bright and friendly. I definitely wanted to know more.
After lunch, the runners took off to go over the race course and John and I tore into the deck. By dinner time the rotten boards were in the beach bonfire pit and new ones shone in their place. Dinner was a cooperative effort- a few people took over the kitchen and whipped up huge amounts of spaghetti while the rest of us relaxed. We opened half a case of wine from the vineyard John's family owns a few miles inland, lit the bonfire, and hung out chatting and waiting for the food. The runners were a good bunch and conversation flowed easily. I ended up (yeah, right, I had her in my sights from the start) sitting next to Jennifer in the sand by the fire leaning against a driftwood log talking, drinking some good Pinot Noir, and watching the fire burn. Quite aside from being sweet and friendly, she laughed at my warped sense of humor and held her own in a debate over the future of the Oregon Coast. In fact, she won a small bet with one of the other runners over the names of the original Indian tribes of the area. She was in her second year at the ad agency and her opinions were clearly respected by the others despite her relative youth.
I was getting more and more enchanted by the minute. I was also picking up some odd looks and vibes from both the male and female members of her team- not so much jealousy as "Who the hell is this guy who's drooling over our buddy?" That's cool- while my intentions may not have been exactly honorable in the old fashioned sense, I did honestly like this girl in a not-just-some-fun-for- the-night way.
Before long, Jennifer was sharing the Gore-Tex jacket I was wearing. The beach in Oregon is cool during the day, cold at night, and windy all the time, and people who sit around cool off quickly. She hadn't gotten her turn at the shower yet and was still wearing nylon running shorts and a sweatshirt. Her light brown hair smelled of jasmine, and that slender, strong runner's body fit perfectly under my arm. My hand was staying carefully in one place- she had way too much class to appreciate a cheap feel, and I wasn't about to have her thinking I was just a creep. We chatted and laughed, and aside from losing my train of thought every time she hit me with that blue-eyed smile I was having the time of my life. I was just starting to think seriously about taking advantage of having Jen in easy kissing range when the dinner bell rang. Damn.
We got separated somehow for dinner, and I ended up sitting with some of the older runners who kept coming back to questions about my background and future. About halfway through I realized I was being sized up for my qualifications to court Jennifer. Not sure it's really up to them, but the whole team was obviously close and seemed to see her as the youngest sister. I had nothing to hide- a couple years out of college, working hard helping run a good sized construction company and vaguely planning to buy out the owner in a few years when he's ready to retire. Maybe I shouldn't have offered a reference from my parole officer, though- I thought I was going to be lynched before they realized I was kidding!
Apparently I passed, because at the end of the meal someone gleefully announced that Jennifer and I, not having helped cook, had cleanup duty. Some time alone with her? Toss me in that briar patch, Br'er Fox! We picked up in the kitchen where we left off, talking, joking and arguing casually about nothing as we scrubbed pots and loaded the dishwasher. Suddenly, as I reached to put away a pot, her hand grabbed my shoulder hard. I turned and saw her pretty face contorted in pain.
"What's wrong?"
"Cramp! Cramp!"
The hand that wasn't holding me for support was grabbing at her hamstring. I picked her up by the waist and set her cute little rear end (yeah, I had noticed) on the counter. Then I grabbed the ankle of the cramping leg, put it on my shoulder, and pushed her knee down until her leg was straight. Did I mention I played rugby in college? Compared to some of the Samoan giants I did the same thing to back then she felt like a bird. Lots easier than those Samoans. Smelled better too.
Anyway, the cramp released and I started massaging the big quad muscle in the back of her thigh while keeping her ankle on my shoulder, all the while trying manfully not to look up those little shorts (black thong, BTW). After a few minutes she smiled in relief.
"I must look really silly."
I looked her right in the eyes.
"You look beautiful to me."
"Well, anyway, help me down?"
I put her leg down, picked her up by the waist again, and set her back on her feet. We just stood there for what seemed like hours but was probably only seconds, staring into each other's eyes with her hands resting on my shoulders and my hands still on her waist. I pulled just a little. She smiled again, moved forward, and slid her arms around my neck as her head tilted and her eyes closed. The kiss started slowly and built fast, her mouth opening to my tongue and holding her own as our tongues wrestled. Her hands moved through my hair as mine wandered up and down her back. As we got more into it, I felt her small hands start to unbutton my shirt and work their way inside. I slid my hands up under her sweatshirt , finding her rapidly stiffening nipples through the Spandex of her running bra and encouraging them to harden further. All too soon she pulled back, moving her hands back to my neck and resting her cheek on my shoulder. She had a confused look in her eyes.
"What's wrong?"
"This is happening so fast. I just met you this morning and now look at us!"
I held her close, my hands back out of her shirt.
"To be honest, I've never felt an instant attraction to a woman the way I did when I met you this morning. The more I get to know you, the bigger my crush on you gets. We can take this as fast or as slow as you want but I want you in my life!"
Jennifer thought about that for a few seconds and then smiled again and kissed the side of my neck.
"I'm kind of attracted to you too, if you hadn't noticed! I need to slow down and adjust a little, though. I really wasn't expecting this. Can we just call it a night tonight?"
"As fast or as slow as you want. Why don't you go on to bed? There's only a little left to clean up."
"Thanks. I owe you."
"That's easy enough. One more kiss?"
She made good with interest and then slipped out of my arms and out of the kitchen. I enjoyed watching her go but was devastated that I wasn't going with her. I reminded myself that the goal with this girl was long term, not short, and put away the last pots.
John's house had been added on to several times, and the layout ended up pretty illogical. My room had a door into a bathroom that also had a door into the hallway on the other side. I was in bed, trying to settle down by reading a book but still preoccupied with thoughts of long legs, blue eyes and blinding smiles, when I heard the shower start up. After a few minutes the water shut off. Then the door opened and Jennifer stepped in gracefully, wrapped in a towel that was tight around her perky breasts but barely covered that round rear end. She saw me and looked startled.
"Oh, sorry! I must have gotten the wrong door."
"Not a problem at all, believe me. How's the leg?"
"Feels fine, thanks to you. It's also thanks to you that I can't get to sleep!"
