Summers Time

The following is the first in a trio of stories (Summers Time, The Winston Man, and The Two Steves) which are accounts of my year of living dangerously. With the help of a journal I keep of all my sexual encounters I recollect the events in the year after turning 18. I'm not exactly new to sex but neither am I much experienced.

Summers Time

Ok, this wasn't my finest moment but I was young. I graduated high school and immediately got hired at GEICO. I was an entry level admin assigned to help out my cousin who got me the job. Soon after I turned 18 started a period of rather vigorous sexual experimentation. I was learning to use my sexuality but I didn't know really to what end.

The lead sales guy took an interest in me. It wasn't my work ethic he was admiring. He was a handsome late twenty-, early thirty-something who had a nice house, nice car, nice wife and nice kid. He'd also been married previously to a celebrity who was the mother of the son. She was a rising film star at the time I met him but she was soon to be huge on TV. We'll call him Bruce.

I am not cozy-ing up to Bruce for workplace favors. I am just interested in trying him out to see what adventures and pleasures can be had.

Prior to our meetup at his house we chatted about his current marriage and past marriage. He had little to do with his ex-wife's stardom but that didn't stop the current wife from being jealous of her. Bruce tells me his wife #2 feels like she is being compared to wife #1. This makes their sex life nearly non-existent according to Bruce.

You see where this is going, right? Yeah, I do too but that doesn't stop me. I like his attention. He is confident and gorgeous. He is into me and he is alone this week. He invites me over after a mid-week, post-work, office dinner for one of his "famous massages". Pretty lame maybe but I think we both know what will happen.

I arrived at his upscale San Ramon neighborhood home in my Camaro. It is just past dark but I park in his garage to avoid nosy neighbors. I am being setup and I know it but I am intrigued.

Bruce takes me to the kitchen and offers me some wine. I wonder if he even suspects how old I am. Would he have offered the wine if he knew I was under 21. He doesn't ask and I don't bring it up and sip the wine.

Apparently, his wife is out of town somewhere on the east coast and his son is with his ex-wife. Bruce harps on how the relationship with his second wife has degraded. It is nice he is honest with me but I tell him to shut up because he's killing the vibe. His focus should be on me. I can be a bitch sometimes. I don't expect a relationship beyond this night, even a hole-and-corner one, but I expect Bruce to give this moment all he can.

The kitchen is huge. The wood cabinets are beautifully finished. There is a breakfast area, pantry, wine cabinet and an island with granite counter top, sink & overhead pot rack. He has one of those massive Viking ranges and ovens.

Finally he asks after light conversation if I want that massage. I give him the thumbs up and he leads me to a small bedroom in the house which, to my surprise, is actually set up for a professional grade massage! It has a table complete with head rest and breast recess. It isn't portable so he doesn't do this on the road. Bruce says he built it himself. The room has variable lighting, candles, a variety of massage oils and...vibrators. Yes, several of them. From classic barber type to wands, all hidden in drawers around the room. When this fellow breaks the 7th commandment (KJV) it is with vigor & aforethought.

Bruce starts to explain, "OK, it is better with your clothes off. If you need a towel I have..."

"Just spread it out on the table," I command.

As I start unbuttoning my blouse, I smile and look him in the eye. Now I'm going to have some fun. I give my best coy look and continue with a strip tease. When the buttons are undone I separate the sides but just to the edge of my nipples. I lean my bum up against the massage table facing Bruce, one leg straight and the other supporting me. I lift my hair in a ponytail and secure with a band from my wrist. As I do, my breasts become completely exposed. I drop the black-cotton button-down blouse on the table behind me. Bruce watches intently and is looking a little agitated.

The thin jean skirt unzips from the side. You know me by now, since after the dinner I am not wearing anything underneath. I slide my hand deep into the waistband and slowly slide the skirt down bending at the waist as I go. I hold the skirt and step out. I stand upright holding the skirt and retrieve the blouse. I offer them to Bruce to place. He takes them from me but stops to examine me naked in heels.

I say, "I require you to be naked too."

"No problem," He says as he spreads the towel. "It will be fun."

After placing my blouse and skirt neatly on the love seat he starts with his pants.

"You're stunning", he says. "I love your brown skin and how that mass of black hair accents it. How do you not have tan lines? Where are you from?"

"I tan naked. Sometimes at the beach, sometimes privately. I'm some European, some islander. What are you?"

He replies sarcastically, "Ah, white!"

As his shirt falls to the ground I admire his body: sturdy, wide shoulders, flat stomach, good butt. He has black hair on the upper chest with a thin trail leading to dark hair over a pleasing thick cock. Not huge, but an atypical diameter, and for the moment it hangs nicely.

I get a whiff of him as his pants come off. It is a manly but light fragrance, either lotion, aftershave, or cologne with which I am unfamiliar. I like it. Remind me to ask him the brand.

His bum has those concave sides which are so erotic. It is a part of the muscularity that is such a turn-on.

I sit on the table and roll face down and fit my breasts into the recess and my face into the head rest. The recess is made to accommodate a larger woman. I am a handful, enough for fun!

Bruce is motionless for a moment with a bottle of massage oil in his hand. I look over at him. He just stares.

As his cock seems to begin its rise he says, "You have the most beautiful exotic skin I have ever seen. Can I take a picture?"

"Maybe later," I answer (I don't think that is a good idea yet). "I'd rather just get the massage now."

He drips the oil it along my right leg up to my butt then spreads it out on both legs. With even pressure on either side of my right leg he presses and slides up either side. As he reaches my thigh at the top I can feel his penis on my foot! He does this for a while then switches legs. By this time though he has an erection so I feel something else on my feet. I concentrate to totally relax all muscles and revel in the firm smooth pressure as he slides up and down my legs.

He moves to the side of the table drizzles a few drops on my butt and back. He completely cleaves my butt by taking one cheek between his hands. The side of his hand runs along from perineum to tailbone. The joint on the side of his hand settles onto my anus. I again have to concentrate on relaxing every muscle. I think my bum is one of my best features. It is smooth and firm and as round as my race can muster. However, this move is very personal and at first tenses me up. He uses his hands like a vice then rubs up & down on either side of the cheek. I am able to relax as I take the personal, sexual aspect out of the maneuver. After about a minute he switches to the other cheek.

With all the effort into relaxing I miss the fact I'm wet. Yes, my pussy, that harbinger of penetration, is in anticipation mode during this highly personal massage. Eventually my pussy expects and deserves attention but not quite yet. I wonder if he notices.

As Bruce finishes the other cheek he runs his oily hand up my back. With his thumbs on my spine, fingers around my ribs and palms on my back he compresses everything in and up. It elongates my spine and torso and causes an audible gush from my throat. He pushes up from my hips up to my neck several times before he concludes and works on my arms.

I lift my head up to look at him as he works over my left arm and hand. Bruce is apparently more used to me than I to him because the erection has dropped back to a fat, locker-room proud, penis. He works the right arm as he had the left and then moves where he's standing at my head buried in the cushioned rest. Apparently his erection is back. Maybe his dick is predicting some attention too. Bruce leans over my head and places his hands on my hips as he had before only now pulling up to my neck rather than pushing. It must be his intention to let his hard-on tap the back of my head as he moves up and down my back.

As he pulls up for what I think is the last time I lift my head and let his cock fall down my forehead, nose and lips. I pull my right arm around, hold the cock and pull it in to my mouth. It feels real nice there. My pussy certainly is jealous and wants to give it a try. Bruce gently rocks in and out. I put my hand on his butt and help.

Suddenly he pulls out. "Oh, man! I don't want to come yet. You are gorgeous. Turn over."

I giggle at his quivering.

I turnover but he stays at my head. I pull out the hair band and my hair falls from my head to hang down below the table. First he clasps my head by the ears and gives an impassioned upside-down kiss.

Once disengaged from the kiss he starts to knead my shoulders and neck. I watch him above me. His cock falls to either side of my face with his motions. He works down to my boobs. I am not relaxing anymore. I stick out my tongue and tickle the end of his cock. I have to close my eyes or they'd look horrible crossed. If he comes now it is all over me. I know some like that idea.

At first his fingers are light on my breasts and across the nipples. Then he gives them a more aggressive, vigorous rubdown. I realize that there is no single erotic site on my body. No matter where he touches I get aroused. Finally before leaving my breasts he gives my nipples a teasing, playful tug. He doesn't realize the pleasure I get from it.

He moves to my right side and does a deep tissue massage on my tummy. His thumbs press hard and circulate around my ovaries. Since my hands are at my side now I can reach his cock and give it a pull. Then finally he goes back to my legs.

I'm kind of wondering how this is going to progress. His hands walk up my shins and thighs. His thumbs press my clitoris as his hands cross my hips.

As a young lass, I only trimmed my hair enough to keep from creeping outside my panties or bathing suit bottoms. Since I don't wear panties or bathing suit bottoms a lot not much trimming is needed. So Bruce faces a fully developed pussy Chia Pet.

"Your pussy hair isn't kinky. I'm not familiar with.."

"It is natural with the exotic side of me."

"I love it. I may not be able to go back to "American" (his quotes)."

"Dude, I'm as American as baseball and apple-pie."

At this point he just plays with the hair for a few moments, then he breaks off to go to a drawer. It is fun to watch his hard-on lead the way. He returns with what appears to be a rock that curves to the form of his hand. I realize its function only when he turns it on.

Now, I can hear it and know what it is for but this is my first vibrator. I thought they were all for penetration but this gizmo is definitely not going in me! My legs are separated enough for him to place the rock on my vulva. There is a knot that protrudes the middle of the curved rock that sits right on the hood of my clit. The sensation is stunning and immediate.

"Too much!" I yell.

He lifts the rock slightly and starts circling the edge of intensity. Bruce stares into my eyes and tells me again that I'm beautiful and that I deserve the greatest of pleasures. I can only assume that he means him! As he works my pussy it quivers and without notice I come like Bull Moose. I ascend into Setu Bandha Sarvangasana (bridge pose) as Bruce follows. He removes the vibrator just as I peak. I stay in that pose pumping my hips as the ecstasy careens over the summit. Bruce steps back wide-eyed, with his hand up and vibrator still on. He is amazed and startled at his own creation. At that moment something new happens too. A little spurt leaps up from my pussy. I am too distracted by all the sensations to be embarrassed. Was it pee? I'll deal with it later.

The orgasm is still flickering in me as I unceremoniously drop back to the table and roll to my side.

"Sorry," I huff.

"About what? That was beautiful. You are amazing! You're thrilling! Do it again."

"Do you want to screw?" I ask.

"Is that a trick question?"

He sits on the table and rubs my back, his thick shaft pointing straight up.

"Can we go to your bed?" I ask as the final glimmers of ecstasy pass.

"Definitely," he responds. He lifts me up in his arms. My boob acts as an anchor point for one of his hands as he carries me to the bedroom.

On the way I ask if he has a condom. Bruce says he doesn't think so. I politely say that it is a requirement. He gently lays me down in the California King waterbed. The ornate headboard is a bit tacky but who am I to judge? On the bureau is a picture of him and his current wife and another of him and his boy. A wave of guilt starts over me. But it is interrupted as Bruce suddenly buries his face into my pussy and goes to work with his nose, lips and especially his tongue. It is astounding to me how much wetness there is but Bruce doesn't mind swimming.

It is very pleasing. I am willing to just let the status quo continue without end. I am on my elbows watching the top of Bruce's head swiveling between my thighs. But damn if I don't catch site of the wife again. So my crazy imagination takes over: she walks into the bedroom naked and in high heels. As her husband continues his cunnilingus on me she approaches. She is blond, apparently authentic since she is blond everywhere. Her larger-than-mine breasts sway and heave as she approaches me. She places a hand on a breast then sucks on the other. Then comes to my lips and kisses me. I hold a dangling tit and feel the nipple in my palm as she translates the kiss to French. Ironically, Bruce inserts a tongue below about the same time.

The status quo is no more. I burst like a flash flood. The conflagration runs through the bedroom as a scream shoots from me as if a geyser at Yellowstone. I crush Bruce with my thighs. He probably can't breathe but I have forgotten about him. I turn my knees and body to the side and he slips out.

I shake, rattle and roll on the waterbed forcing out little waves that return and shove me back.

Bruce, now on his knees on the floor just watches. I think he is proud of himself but unbeknownst to him he had help from his wife.

You know I don't remember ever seeing a blond pussy in the showers after PE. There were certainly blond ladies but they were always darker hair covering their nether regions. Why is that? Why did I fantasize Bruce's wife as a towhead crotch?

I straighten out on the bed but can't stop the occasional jerk that accompanies a little zap in my pussy. Bruce lies next to me not touching, preferring to watch as I calm and sink into the bed. He is on his side and I gaze at his erection. Bruce's Johnson is wider than my experience to date. It is very tubular, say about 45 millimeters diameter. Hmm, that is, let me see, pi times d or 3.14 times 4.5 cm. That's 12+1.5 cm and some change. OK, so let's say 14 centimeters. Divide by 2.5 and that is more than 5-1/2 inches around. That's going in me, yes it is.

I put my hand on it and play a moment. It is fine with soft smooth skin wrapping a solid dowel of engorged muscle. I feel joy in the palm of my hand. I haven't quite finished the last orgasm as this feeling in my hand is inspiring another. I bend to suck on it again and hold lightly his testicles. Within a couple seconds he pulls me off and again says he doesn't yet want to come.

"Well? You have the condom?" I ask.

"Yes," he responds and produces a little square packet with a royal Prussian eagle on the label. It is an oddly configured condom. Lubed, red, it has 3 tips on the end. Like a cow's udder (one missing). I guess as they fill with stuff they are supposed to add some stimulus. We'll see.

"I got this from my last trip to Germany," he reports.

"Who did you bang there?" I ask crassly.

"The wife, it was a vacation in Bavaria where my in-laws are from.

"Give it to me," I command (I want to inspect it as I apply it).

It goes on without too much fuss and looks sound. Now I see how the udder works. They fill with air trapped in it by the inserted penis.

I climb over onto Bruce and guide the red covered cock with the funny end into me. It slides in without challenge and feels great. He's not too long so I can completely insert him and the width is engaging.

Bruce looks at me: "Perfect. You are perfect."

I smile and use my Kegels to squeeze his cock. I feel no tickling udders really. Design failure I fear. Bruce begins a slight rhythm of pushing into me. It is so fulfilling. I don't know if it is endorphins or the fullness of his cock but I feel surfeited. Bruce's fingers press on my butt to begin a harmonic motion with his body. We slowly build and soon are galloping on the waterbed toward the finish. I really don't need to come again. I relish the feeling of his cock and fill with ecstatic joy as he blossoms.

"I want to see you come again," he pants.

So as we heave in concurrent ecstasy I rub my clitoris into another orgasm and let Bruce know it has arrived. I stop any motion, squeeze my eyes shut and listen to my body as it is blown apart in sweet pleasure one more time. Bruce joins in and we make wall shattering trumpets together. I can feel him pulsate in me which furthers the intensity.

I don't collapse but put a hand on either of his pecs and continue to grind into his pelvis. Bruce's orgasm appears to continue as he compels my bottom with his fingers. Again I compress my Kegels and watch as his eyes widen as he stares direct in to my eyes. This is fun.

I wait awhile and slide off to the bed beside him. There would have been a splash but the water is contained and the foam core dampens the motion. Women are lucky: no one and done. This was a hat trick.

I've only been intimate with him once. Not long enough to understand what a marriage would be like. But I don't understand why the wife is not having sex with Bruce. If I am to believe his side of things, why deny him? He is a wonderful lover. His touch is innovative, his cock is inviting, and his body has a classic appeal. He is even a nice fellow. What gives? Is she really giving up on this sensual fun because of jealousy of some starlet from the past or have they grown tired of each other. Is it possible she may be tired of trying to reach this level of ecstasy in the confines of the everyday? Or maybe Bruce is just a cad and is just playing around for his own ego and sense gratification. I don't know. I don't want to delve further into it as I'm feeling pretty good right now. I have no commitments or expectations. I am just enjoying this sensual encounter.

I begin to wonder how long I can stay. "When do I have to be out of here?"

"Before dawn, to keep our secret from the neighbors."

"I'm leaving soon," I say. "I just need to shower."

He joins me in the shower continuing his masseuse skills. This is first of two times this summer that I will confront Dr. Bronner's soap under similar circumstances. That stuff you should keep away from your koochi. Bruce does.

Soon, I'm on the 580 over the San Leandro Hills headed home in my beautiful Camaro.

I need to commit this adventure to my journal, which I do immediately as I arrive home. I sneak into my room so as not to wake my parents who would have many questions. I sit in my bed, in my pajamas writing the details. I can still feel him in me. I relive the feelings of guilt too but manage to transfer them all to Bruce. I just concentrate on describing to myself the rapturous, transcendent excitement generated by my body. Damn if I don't nearly come once again.