I came of age during a special period in American history, the era of abandoned sex engendered by the collusion of the philosophy of free love and the easy access to contraception and abortion. The advent of AIDS would bring this period to an abrupt end in the early '80s, but like many of my generation, I got a lifetime's worth of sexual adventures into this segment of my life.
*****
When I was twenty-one. I had been living away from home for three years already. I had decided that I needed to experience the real world rather than go to college. It is a decision that I have infrequently regretted.
Honestly what I wanted most from life at this point was to have fun and chase women. I was twenty-one in 1976, a fertile year for such pursuits. At that point in my life I was reasonably good looking and quite charming and could converse on many subjects. Working against me was the fact I was living hand to mouth and effectively owned nothing. Again, in the 1970s being broke was not a deal breaker with a fairly wide spectrum of women and the hippie girls that I was most interested in particular.
In those days my multitude of friends and acquaintances would throw parties for no occasion in particular. They existed to get together, talk, listen and dance to music, drink, smoke weed and pick one another up. The year I was twenty one I did have a girlfriend, but she didn't live in town. I saw her maybe five times in the previous twelve months. She was a sweet girl, bright and I daresay beautiful, and in my own primitive way I loved her, but a healthy young man of twenty-one would not be satisfied to enjoy the embrace of a woman only five times in a year.
Thus it was that I was on the prowl to spend myself where I could. I lived in the neighborhood of Central Square in Cambridge where many MIT and Harvard students made their homes as well as many rootless vagabonds such as myself.
I was occasionally seeing a young woman with a pretty face and a healthy figure who had an apartment with two other women as roommates. For convenience I will call her Katey. She was lovely, but a bit unusual looking. She had dark hair worn slightly longer than shoulder length, very straight without a hint of wave and very dark brown eyes, but her skin was an almost transparent white. If I looked carefully I could see blue veins beneath her skin almost everywhere although this feature a was most noticeable on her breasts and upper chest. Her lips did not differ in color from the rest of her face and her areolae were unpigmented as well. Were it not for her dark hair and eyes, I might have thought her to be albino. As I said, she had a wonderful figure with broad hips and a prominent round bottom. Her stomach was flat, but not highly muscled. Her breasts were large, more than a handful, firm and perfectly proportioned with her nipples pointing ever so slightly upward. It was these nipples that first got my attention poking against the fabric of a Grateful Dead T-shirt. Her face was unconventional with somewhat larger than average eyes, a somewhat Roman nose and rather full lips. As I said, her lips were not colored at all and like most hippie women of the time, she wore no makeup. Truth be told, I have never really liked makeup much on women, but those lips had she worn very red lipstick would have gotten her a
lot
of attention. As it was, kissing her was quite wonderful. A lot of guys I knew thought her face was funny looking and her nose on the beaky side. I found her uniquely beautiful if not exactly "pretty". We had known one another for several months before we ever got together sexually. I knew that she didn't have or apparently want a boyfriend and she was well aware of my wandering ways. I think my reputation made me seem safe in a way. At one party we shared a joint and a few shots of bourbon and arrived at an agreement for a " just for laughs" relationship.
We made out a bit at the party, but didn't waste too much time there. Back at her place we had a bit more bourbon and I quickly got her naked. I was unprepared for the sight of her skin! She was truly the fairest of them all. Her dark triangle of pubic hair was striking against the whiteness and a clear bulls eye! I made the mistake of saying out loud, "You're so white!" It turned out that she was a bit self conscious about her lack of coloration and she started to dress. "No!" I exclaimed. "Don't. I want to see you! You are so beautiful!"
She blushed, he cheeks, forehead, chest and breasts glowed warmly. "My mom is a very pale...Irish, but not quite like me. She has freckles and dark lips. Some of the kids called me 'ghost' when I was in school. I didn't attract many boys until I was nineteen or so, mostly because..." She palmed and lifted her tits.
I smiled and said, "I have to admit they got my attention as well, but you have more going on!" She blushed again, but didn't release her breasts. She massaged her nipples with her fingers bringing them to springy tautness. It wasn't that she had no areolae. I could clearly see that there were slightly raised circles around her nipples, it was just that they were the exact same shade of the surrounding skin. I came to her and placed my lips on one of her nipples while caressing the other breast. I had such a hard erection that I could feel my pulse pounding in my cock.
She saw the bulge in my jeans. "Hey senior, why don't you let him out to play?" she asked with a sexy smirk. She pulled off my boots and undid my belt with a practiced efficiency and he fingers were tightly wrapped around my stiff dick in seconds. There was not a lot of foreplay. That was kind of a disappointment for me. Eating pussy was my best game for paving the way for what was to come. She, as I would learn, had little taste for oral sex, either giving or receiving. She preferred my hands and fingers and was very skilled with hers. On this occasion she was already quite ready and we were soon fucking hard and fast. She did everything to get me to cum fast and I also learned that she never had orgasms during intercourse, to hear her tell it, not with me or anybody. After I had cum, she masturbated until she climaxed. It was a little unsatisfying for me. A lot of my self-image of manhood was that I could make a woman cum. She didn't like having her pussy eaten and couldn't cum from fucking. It was a bit frustrating. It wasn't a deal breaker though.
I saw Katey frequently over the next few months and got to know her roommates Sarah and Kim as well. Kim was a Harvard girl and had a Harvard boyfriend. They were both studying political science and were boring as hell. Sarah was tall for a girl, almost my same height. She wore her black hair as a mop of short curls. She had piercing blue eyes and finely molded features, a much more conventional beauty than Katey. She was thin, but not boney, with narrow hips and tiny breasts. Her habit was wearing the thinnest of tank tops that clearly showed her dark nipples. She was very intense. She watched people like a bird of prey. She was not really like other people, she had a whole other quality of focus. In the twenty-first century we would have guessed that she fell somewhere on the autism spectrum, but in the nineteen seventies, she was just a weird chick.
I was to learn that she and Katey had a somewhat unusual relationship. Sarah didn't have a boyfriend that I knew about. She seemed to be someone like me who had avoided college in favor of worldly experience, but she really didn't talk a whole lot, she just looked at people. She wasn't off putting exactly, but she was difficult in odd ways. She tended to answer questions with another question.
