This the first chapter of an at least three-chapter story. The first chapter involves mostly Serena, and Mandy enters in the second chapter. Comments are – as always – greatly appreciated, and all comments are read, and read more than once. Thank you, JB
In a training program, Philip discovers the girl of his dreams.
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I had to use the john, and it woke me up. I sat up and my head hurt like hell. I had truly drunk too much the night before. This was the hangover from Hades! I stumbled over to the bathroom, did my business, and got a huge glass of water and stumbled back to bed. My head was monstrous.
Once back in bed, I was awake enough to think about Tylenol. Then I noticed her: Serena was sleeping in my bed, looking angelic. What is it about beautiful women when they sleep? If I were an artist, the vision of angelic serenity that was Serena just then would have inspired a painting worthy of any museum. Good thing Picasso is dead; he would have stolen Serena to be his next muse.
It was summer's last gasp, and it was warm in my apartment. Serena, who was sleeping naked, had kicked off the covers, and I was enjoying looking at her ass. It had the most perfect curves, and her skin was an unblemished symphony in rosy pink flesh tones. I checked the clock: 5AM.
I got up again, got some Tylenol, and made some coffee, since I had heard somewhere it helped with hangovers. Serena would have one too, no doubt, when she awoke. Like many a man, I had developed a crush on Serena, first for her beauty, next for how sexy she was, and finally after we got to know each other, for her sweet and thoughtful personality.
This made it especially fantastic that, finally, after many efforts, I had been able to take her home with me, get her drunk as a skunk, and then have her share my bed. I had this naked goddess in my bed, and yet we had never had sex. Last night was my chance, but we were both too drunk, and with me at least, the woman has to give informed consent.
So, I sat there, sipping my piping hot coffee, supplementing it with lots of gulps of cold water, and just gazed at the apex of beauty of the naked, female form. Serena rolled over onto her back, and I enjoyed the luscious shape of her small breasts, her long legs, her perfectly hairy bush, her flat tummy and – yes – the beauty of her face. The green of her eyes was a deep, perfect shade of green.
I drifted back off to sleep. I woke the way every man on earth would love to wake. Serena was kissing my chest, and working her way up to my mouth.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," she said.
"Good morning, Serena," I replied. "I hope your hangover is not too bad. Want some Tylenol? Cold water? Hot coffee?"
She took all three and we sat together in bed, both naked, after I had made coffee and brought it to the bedroom. Serena looked over at my erection, pointing straight at the ceiling.
"Is that your routine morning wood, or is that for me?" Serena asked, looking straight at my cock. "Was that inside me last night?'
"It wasn't. You were too drunk, as you've just proved by having to ask me, this morning," I replied.
"God, I love men like you! Thank you for being decent, Philip. Let me see, how would you feel about getting a little reward?" Serena said, maximizing her sexiness, and that was quite a maximum!
"I'm good to go. Birth control?" I asked.
"You just keep getting better and better," Serena said, and she leaned over and kissed the tip of my cock. With her nipples rubbing my chest, she moved up my body and gave me an open mouth kiss that made my cock even harder, if that were possible. We kept kissing. I began to fondle her boobs as we kissed some more.
My fingers found her snatch and she was already wet. I raised my eyebrows.
"Kissing you turned me on. You're a sexy man," Serena said. Then she moaned softly as my fingers explored the pink insides of her delectable pussy. Serena parted her legs wider. "I like my men on top. I'm a missionary girl," she said.
I climbed on top of her, and got in position. I kissed her and there was no protest, no resistance, but I just stayed there, nevertheless.
"Are you going to fuck me, Philip? Don't you understand, I just slept naked in your bed? Please, I need you inside me. Cum inside me, too, okay?" she said.
My dream girl was asking me to fuck her. I didn't wait for her to have to ask me twice, and I pushed my cock inside that entrance to her soul. I felt as if that was a moment I would never forget. Fucking the girl of my dreams, hell, the girl of my wet dreams!
Not just the girl, but the sex was memorable! As I entered Serena, she called out, "Oh yes! Give it to me, Philip! Fuck me good, lover boy." She used her body to meet my every thrust, groaning softly as I plummeted into her. She wrapped her long legs around my hips, her feet meeting over my ass, and she hooked one foot around the other, making me feel as if I truly belonged inside her, and that she would never let me go.
I don't know if she faked it or not; I never really can tell, to be honest. It sure did look, though, as if she had one hell of an orgasm while we fucked. I just went right on fucking the blazes out of her. I wanted the fuck never to end, but it did of course, as I emptied my balls deep inside Serena.
I lingered inside her as my cock went flaccid, and she kissed my chest. I kissed her mouth and she kissed me back with what felt like love at the time. I had no idea if I was special to Serena, or just a good man to use for sexual pleasure. I figured a girl as gorgeous and sexy and smart as she was could get any guy she wanted, anytime. I was amazed she wanted me, even if only for one night.
You see, there were two dozen of us in the special, intensive training program (ITP), six women and eighteen men. All the women were good looking, but Serena was in a class by herself. I also knew I had competition. Serena had been seeing Steve, exclusively, until this very fling with me. That's why I was insecure about where I stood with her.
I didn't know why Serena had decided to give me a try; she had seemed pretty committed to Steve. Before the training program, or ITP however, she had known none of us, Steve included. So maybe Steve, and also perhaps me, were just ITP flings? Maybe she was just having a little fun, and there was a special guy back in Indianapolis where she worked?
I gently probed as we sat on the bed together, both still nude, sipping coffee and hoping our two headaches would, if not go away, at least become more bearable. As we sat there and talked, I learned more and more about Serena, who she was and where she came from.
"I'm a country girl," she had said at one point. "I'm an actual farmer's daughter, and all that implies."
I knew the stereotypes. A 'farmer's daughter' meant the girl looked innocent (check, in Serena's case), that she was typically from the Midwest (check), and while she might seem innocent enough, in reality she'll have sex with as many people as possible (a very likely check!). Her father would have a shotgun too, and he would threaten her sex partners if he were to find out. I had no clue about that last part.
I ignored the invitation to ask about her previous sex life, and instead asked about what her father farmed.
"Corn and soybeans, of course. We have a little vegetable garden, and we also raise pigs," she said, with some pride in her voice. "What about you? How'd you come to work for the company?"
I told her my story. I was based in Kansas City, although I was a New Yorker by birth and culture. I had moved to KC only because of the job opportunity. I finally let the bomb drop, and asked the question that was bugging me. I felt I already knew the answer, but I wanted a reality check.
