Getting Past Third

The later years of my teenage life could be summed up by a couple of rock and roll songs Ian Drury's "Sex and Drugs and Rock'n'Roll" and the Meat Loaf hit "Two out of three ain't bad." Except I was sure missing "Number 1" on the list. In fact to use a baseball analogy, I'd yet to get past second base.

I was almost 20, with my degree in hand trying to decide between med and grad school (failed the idiot test here and chose grad school), fit from cycling more than 25 miles each day and working outside for the city parks department, but still a virgin.

My friends were in a band playing at a nearby bar that night, so I cycled there from home (Yes, still living with my parents - maybe that was part of my problem). Their band "One Short of a Six Pack" played a combination of country and rock'n'roll: late Byrds (sweetheart of the Rodeo), New Riders of the Purple Sage, Rolling Stones, and sometimes their own stuff which included bluegrass and banjo ragas, just to confuse people. They worked hard at being a good bar band - Blue Rodeo would be the closest of today's bands.

I made the usual round of tables, I knew at least a third of the people in the bar and between the beer and the dope, was feelin jus fine by 10:30 or so. Then the unexpected, a cute blonde whom I didn't know came up and said "Nice legs" (I was wearing cutoff jeans at the time), to which I of course responded "Shame about the face." Now I was slow, but not that slow. I introduced myself to Patti and her girlfriend, who conveniently disappeared, and kept close to her until closing time.

It was mid-week and there were no parties, so we decided to ride double to Patti's home on my bicycle. That didn't work as we were both somewhat intoxicated, and Patti fell off, gracefully, within the first 100 yards. So we walked, through the warm summer night and once we were away from the streetlights, the marvelous stars came into view. Our path bordered a golf course, we stopped midway along the path and kissed. Patti thrust her tongue into my mouth tasting of beer and smoke. I returned her kiss ardently as my hands wandered awkwardly across her back, then under her blouse, to grasp her full breasts through her bra, damn another puzzle.

Patti interrupted my amateurish groping and dropped to her knees, to unzip my cut-off jeans and release my straining cock. She ran her hand slowly along my shaft, then kissed the tip. I was in seventh heaven but so excited, I came almost instantly, spraying her mouth, face, and neck with twenty years of pent up sperm. (While not really, I had relieved the pressure on occasion myself.) She looked up to me and smiled saying "MMMM so quickly, I love cum." then gave my cock a couple last licks before rising again and kissing me again, this time tasting of beer, smoke and my cum.

I stammered and explained that I was still a virgin, which seemed to upset Patti. But I kissed her deeply saying "Whatever else happens I will remember tonight for the rest of my life."

We rearranged our clothes, and then jumped the golf course fence, assuming it was closed at night. As we were both a bit tipsy, we barely made it over the fence. She lay back and we kissed again, then I moved to her breasts as she helped me unfasten her bra. After a few minutes caressing her breasts and sucking her then tits, she moved my head down to her sex. She pulled her panties off and I fumbled inexpertly at her sex through her wet blonde pubic hair.

Patti grew impatient and said "Put it in me." I climbed on top and slid in her moist opening and as we slowly began thrust against each other. She wrapped her legs around me, and we kissed deeply. Our pace rapidly increased until I came deep within her. She moaned as I came but in retrospect, it was probably too soon for her.

We lay momentarily satiated in the warm summer's night. I turned to kiss her but suddenly there was a lot of noise on the golf course below us. A squadron of lawn mowers were sweeping across the course, all lights blazing. It turned out there was a Junior Championship the next day and they were doing the final manicuring of the course. We quickly dressed, scrambled over the fence without discovery and walked slowly to Patti's home.

Over the rest of the summer, I dated Patti several times (yes I remembered to get her phone number). For me it was a wonderful summer, full of discovery of the joys of sex. In particular, Patti would often have her hand and sometimes her mouth on my cock as we were driving, which introduced me to the pleasures of roadside sex. And yes we were one interrupted by the police in a rather embarrassing position in the back of my parent's station wagon, unobtrusively parked in a local picnic area (the mosquitoes outside were awful)but they just chuckled and told us to move on. When my family went away on their vacation, we even made love at home, although downstairs on my single bed rather than my parent's queen.

That fall I went off to grad school, and although I wrote to her she replied only once. When we met over Christmas, it was obvious things had changed; she had met another and that was that. I never saw her after that.

Yet, though it's been years without contact, I still remember that night and summer as if it were yesterday. I feel an enormous debt to Patti for her enthusiastic approach to sex, tempered by a lingering regret that I didn't serve her better. To this day, I am uncertain if she ever came with me, which almost certainly means she didn't. I would give Oh So much to apply what I now know to her sweet pussy.

Although I don't golf, I am still partial to golf courses and smile to myself when I pass one on a warm summer evening.