I finally got my chance with this girl Kim, who was a lifeguard. She worked that same pool every summer from high school through college, and, like every other heterosexual male, I'd lusted for her for years. It was one of those summer relationships that was destined from the get-go to end in September. Oh, we liked one another, all right, had a good time together, but it was clear it was not going to be a long-term, lovey-dovey type of thing, as she was perhaps the most opinionated person I've ever known, and besides, we were both returning to our respective out-of-town universities in the Fall.
But when it came to her looks, everyone had the same opinion: One damn fine-looking gal, lithe and athletic, with short brown hair and brown eyes, tall and thin, with a huge white smile. She had very nice, super firm, super sensitive little breasts, and a perfect butt--her best asset.
Her skin was naturally light complexioned, very smooth and clear, so her dark tan contrasted dramatically with her white boobs and bottom, and she was always careful to keep the tan lines in exactly the same place. This was so important to her that she wore but one style of bikini, which she had in every color of the rainbow, with visors to match, that she wore every day at the pool.
Kim was decidedly outspoken about everything--politics, religion, sports, sex; you name it, and she held extremely strong opinions. Nixon should be executed. Catholics didn't get it. And the Dallas Cowboys could do no wrong. No brag, just fact, but it was surely my ability to coolly flex with her my-way-or-the-highway attitude that enabled me to be selected her summer boyfriend over the scores of more studly pool-jocks vying for her. Once she made up her mind who the lucky guy was—which took only about a week—she did not subscribe to that take-me-out-on-dates-and-I'll-let-you-go-a-little-further-each-time routine. No, she knew the summer was short and time's a wastin'.
So we fucked on our very first "date," which consisted of picking up some food at the Sonic and then following her directions to a secluded parking spot, where she promptly stripped herself and me and stuck her tongue down my throat. I really liked her what-are-we-waiting-on attitude about sex, but, though a pretty good lover, she lay towards the conservative end of the sexual behavior spectrum—at least at first. She gave good, though not great head (did not swallow), liked to have her pussy eaten (but could never quite cum from that), and liked to fuck in the missionary position. She had always been the Alpha Female—the leader, in charge—and so had never done anything that was someone else's idea. Since she was considered such a to-die-for prize and "put out," whatever guy she chose as her boyfriend wouldn't risk losing her for trying to persuade her to do something new.
I surmise that today she is probably either CEO of her own business or the dictator of some small, heavily armed, right-wing island republic. It was easy to picture her in fatigues with a .45. Ha!
Sex? Forget about cumming on her tits or face or spanking or bondage or anything like that. She had a particular aversion to anal sex, and would frequently mention how horrible she thought that was, even though I never tried it with her or even brought it up.
As far as fucking went, she was really good, but her pussy was a bit on the small side and moist but not real wet, so I wanted to fuck her doggie-style, as that position opens a woman up wider, and, of course, would give the best view of her best part, her fabulous butt.
I thought I'd never get her to do it doggie, though, and initially figured it was because of her extreme dislike of anal, as this position makes quite visible the anus, on the theory that if a man can see it, he'll want to fuck it.
Turns out, that wasn't the reason at all. You see, when I FINALLY got her to turn over, she was acting real coy. WhatTheFuckWasThatAbout? She knew she had a superb butt, so what was the source of her reluctance? Pimples. Yeah, pimples.
