Julie The Swimmer

Now it was too late. I'd wasted the entire time.

The student cruise was coming to its end and we were in Acapulco. Exams were over and we would arrive in Los Angeles-Long Beach in three days. I'd wanted my half-Junior Year Abroad to liberate me, take the introverted rural Oregon girl and make her interesting.

No such luck. Prince Charming didn't show up and sweep me away. I knew I was about to resume my status as bookworm, everybody's confidant but nobody's beloved, the RA with the stash of condoms who never used one herself.

While my friends, including my roommate, had taken off for the beaches to surf or sun, I stayed on board and took the free day trips that the school offered. This last day in port I must have been the only student on board and the only other person I saw was Peter.

They said he was an arrogant and aloof instructor who liked the "deep" girls — quiet, small-breasted, athletic, bookish. Lots of them. While I qualified on all counts, he never seemed to notice me.

He was sitting on the sunny side of the middle deck, reading a magazine. I could catch his eye if I raced naked past him and jumped overboard into the warm bay, but that would mean I'd land on the cement dock. I went to my cabin, changed into my bikini, and picked up a book.

"Hi, Could you do me a favor and watch this book for me? I've got this urge to jump overboard and swim around the ship."

"Good idea!" he said. "It's really hot, I'll go change. Wait here." Five minutes later Peter vaulted the guardrail on the correct side of the boat and sailed the 25 feet to the water, hitting it so hard and at such a bad angle that I thought he'd knocked himself out.

I did a pretty good jackknife and came up next to him as he sputtered, trying to get his bearings. I started to swim toward the stern of the boat but he stopped me and said "Race ya!" I gave him a 20-yard start and passed him before the turn.

When I got about 20 yards ahead I stopped and waited for him to catch up. "You're a pretty good swimmer," he said.

"Yeah, I was on the high school swim team, did the freestyle and breast stroke."

"May I kiss you?" came out of the blue. He didn't wait for the answer but pulled me to him and we kissed. He stroked my ass as I worked to keep us both upright in the water.

When he broke off the kiss he said "Let's continue this when we get back on board."

We swam to where a cargo net was hanging over the side and I scampered up. Peter was slower (no upper-body strength), but he hauled himself up eventually.

"C'mon," he said, and headed inside. His cabin was at the other end of the ship and down two decks.

The shipboard air conditioning was going full blast, so that by the time we stepped into his cabin we were both shivering. "Grab a blanket from that bunk and wrap it around yourself. And let's get out of these wet suits."

Peter quickly stripped off his suit and made sure I saw all of him. I got out of my suit and made sure he saw the white cotton string in my pubic hair.

"I thought you were coming on to me with the jumping overboard thing."

"Well, I was, sort of," I stammered.

"And that?" he said, gesturing to the string.

He didn't wait for an answer.

"Let's cuddle." I stood there as he pulled back the sheets and we got under them. He rolled me on top of him and we pressed against each other and kissed, his cock was hard against me. Shared bodily warmth soon took care of the shivers.

Despite never having gone anywhere near this far with a guy, I was surprised at how relaxed I was. Eventually I slid off and lay next to him. My shyness or something must have communicated my lack of experience, my virginity, because he went into full professorial mode, teaching me the names of all our sexual body parts, both formal and slang. As he named them he had me touch him or myself.

It wasn't that I'd never fooled around. I'd learned how to kiss pretty well and even given a boyfriend a handjob through his pants and let him finger me. But now there was this naked guy next to a naked me and I was touching everything sexual about him.

"Take my cock in your hand now. I want you to stroke me, very gently."

After a few strokes Peter said "lick your fingers, moist is better, stroke gently."

He taught me how to stroke him and told me how warm it made him feel. I was pretty warm myself.

"I'm going to lie on my back. You will make me cum, okay?"

And that is how I learned to give Peter pleasure.

"We'll take our time," he said, and we must have spent an hour just playing with his cock. When he got too close, he would stop me and we would kiss and he would fondle my breasts, kissing me everywhere.

Finally he said we were going to "do it," that he wanted me to make him cum.

Soon he was humping my hand, letting out soft "oooh"s and encouraging "aaahh"s. His first spurt shot right past my face, startling me, but I kept on stroking. By the end the cum was all over his chest hair and his belly and my hand was full of it. I was afraid I'd hurt him with all my stroking as I watched his cock go soft in my hand.

"Julie, you are my muse today. There I was, feeling sorry for myself, no one wanted to spend the day with me. I'm out of money, can't go anywhere, and there's nothing interesting in a four-month-old magazine. I was mooning about how much fun everyone else is having and I wasn't having any.

"And then there was you." I couldn't help it, I beamed and kissed him.

I ran the end of a towel in the warm water of the sink and cleaned us up. We cuddled and talked about what we'd just done.

"Boys are really simple, sexually," he said. "You can control us so easily. It's all about the head" and he gave me a guided tour of his circumcised cock.

Considering that two hours ago I'd deemed the voyage wasted, I was feeling pretty good. I'd given a man who I'd never spoken a single word to a glorious handjob and he was still interested in me.

He drifted off as I stroked his soft cock and woke up twenty minutes later.

"Still here?" he said, maybe joking, partly glad.

"You want me to leave?"

"Oh no, please don't Julie. You're my muse, remember?"

Then: "Would you like to take your handiwork to the next level?"

I'd seen how he reacted to my handiwork and I was pleased at how I had been able to control his response.

Peter wanted me to learn oral sex, the full course. I started with the head and he had me take it into my mouth. "No teeth, never, ever, you'll risk a whole generation of babies if you bite it off," he said.

"Slurp it with your tongue, coat it with your saliva. Now your lips. Oooh, they're warm and it's oh so wonderful to feel." I held the shaft and worked the head.

"You can hold the shaft, but do it lightly, and you really don't have to hold it at all, once you get used to it."

Peter had me gradually take more and more of the entire cock into my mouth, with the goal of having the entire five inches inside. I was almost there when I started to gag on it, it was just too far.

"We'll practice. It may be the angle you're at, let's adjust." And for probably an hour I moved around his cock, and eventually got it comfortably fully inside my mouth, with the head at the tip of my throat.

He wasn't able to get fully erect.

"I just need more time, I guess. And we both ought to get some food."

It was almost 2 o'clock as we came down the gangway. Within a block we found a small café. We were both Mexican food virgins, but it was delicious. I was wearing his pants, shirt, and flipflops, all too big for me and I probably looked ridiculous. But I didn't care.

When we were back on the ship he asked, tentatively, "Want to pick up where we left off?" We stopped at the bathrooms and went back to his cabin.

"Remember him?" Peter said, gesturing to his cock. He was flaccid but seemed confident as he took his pants down.

Sure enough, five minutes of kissing and stroking had his cock in the full upright position. He was right about the simplicity of the male sexual response.

We got right back to my taking him inside my mouth, to where I could have the head in my throat, like before lunch. While we had started out with him on his side, Peter suggested that it would be more comfortable for me to kneel on the floor at the edge of the bunk. That was a little tough on my knees, so I took one of the blankets and made a kneeling pad and it was fine.

While I was enjoying learning how to give a blowjob, I was getting restless. I told Peter that I wanted to move things along. He agreed with enthusiasm.

I focused on the head and soon had him pushed to his limit. He squealed "I'm going to cum soon Julie" and I got ready. He ejaculated way back in my throat, just where we wanted it to be, and I swallowed it. The second and third squirt came soon thereafter and I got it down, no problem. It was warm and briney and I didn't get much out of it, but I loved how much he loved it.

As we lay beside each other, Peter turned to me and I felt absorbed by his eyes. I felt so warm and wanted.

"You are wonderful, Julie. And I am such a jerk."

"Why?" I said, perplexed at a thought that was foreign to what we had been doing all afternoon.

"We've got to stop this. I have to start work right after dinner and go straight through to Long Beach. The Dean of Administration has me going morning, noon, and night getting paperwork finished. I'm his slave until everybody's off the boat in Long Beach. Can we be together there?"

"I have to get back to Corvallis. The semester has already started and they're holding my RA job."

"Oh good. Where's Corvallis?"

"It's about five hours south of Seattle."

"What state?"

"Oregon."

"I'm sorry. I've never been on the West Coast. I figured to hitchhike up to Vancouver, Canada, or maybe it's Vancouver, Washington, because I've heard how beautiful it is. Can I visit you in Corvallis? I have three weeks before I have to be back in New York."

I told him where I lived and we agreed that he would call me when he had some idea when he was near Corvallis.

I went back to my cabin in my barely-damp swimsuit, dazed at myself but still happy.

My roommate was aghast. "You jumped into bed with him? So fast? " I smugly reminded her that I was still a virgin.

"Well, you wouldn't be if it wasn't for the rag. Do you think he'll show up?"

"I don't know, and I'm not sure if it's a good idea."

"Why?"

"He's not going to stay, he has a job back East. And I'm not sure I'm ready for sex."

"Bullshit," she countered. "The timing's perfect. Your period will be over in less than a week. If you get on the pill today you'll be ready." I went to the nurse everybody said provided the pill that night.

I'm not a real early riser, so I wasn't at my best when he knocked on my door at 6:30 that morning about ten days later. Peter had hitched from Los Angeles to Vancouver in one long ride with a trucker. He stayed in Vancouver with one of the other instructors from the ship, then hitched down to Seattle where he found a service that delivered people's cars to the East Coast.

He had seven days to get from Seattle to Washington, D.C. He'd driven all night to get to Corvallis, found my dorm, and here he was.

He was so eager but he was such a mess. He smelled bad and he was bleary-eyed from lack of sleep. I told him to hop in the shower.

"Join me?"

"Forget it, you don't smell so good," I said, "and besides, you'll fall asleep."

He came out of the shower looking great but tired, and I tucked him into my bed. I took my shower, straightened the room, read for a little bit, and watched him sleep.

I contemplated my strategy. My period was over, I was on the pill, and I had practiced how to roll a condom onto a cock (using a carrot). By ten I felt it was time.

I'd put him to bed naked, so I wanted to watch his cock wake up. I started by slowly pulling back the covers and lightly brushing his cock, then kissing it, and finally sucking very gently. His eyelids flickered and I guessed that he was working on remembering where he was.

I started by taking off my shirt, then my bra. I tossed the bra onto him, right on top of his cock. He picked it up and sniffed it before laying it aside. I gyrated, fondling my breasts and licking my lips. I watched as his cock started to lengthen.

I slid my jeans off, then put my hand inside my panties, licked my lips some more, and hopped right up to him. As I moved closer he swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. I moved between them. I had his cock's full attention.

"I hate single beds," he said. "They're too narrow. Let's take it apart and put the mattress on the floor, so we can spread out."

This was not what I had planned. Peter sprang from the bed and inspected the frame. Quickly enough we got it apart and pushed the parts under my desk. With the mattress and bedclothes in their rightful position, we resumed our playfulness.

I was excited and wanted to speed things up, so I pushed Peter onto his back and grabbed for his cock. He responded by sliding off my panties and bringing me alongside him.

"You smell wonderful," he said. "We should do this slowly. I'll work with your hymen so it won't hurt much."

He began to tongue my pussy, going in and out. Soon he put a finger in me, wiggled it, and brought it out and up to my mouth. "Taste it, it's your sugar." It was sweet, and it really turned me on.

Then it was two fingers, in and out and I moved with their rhythm. When he put three fingers very far in me I felt a twinge.

"That's your hymen. I'm going to stretch it." He worked back and forth, slowly but deliberately. I was really getting into it.

"Enough! I want you! Now!" I grabbed his cock and suddenly stopped, not knowing what to do next.

We writhed together, our mouths locked, our hands caressing wildly. And then he was on top of me. He spread my willing legs, then knelt between them as together we guided his cock into me. It was slow going at first but we used my moisture and on the fourth try he was suddenly through my hymen and in.

The pain was sudden, and brutal.

My tears weren't those of my childhood when I skinned my knee: they were real, from real pain."That was awful, Peter, that really hurt."

"I'm sorry, Julie. But it had to happen sooner or later, and now we can be lovers. Are you okay?"

I realized that I wasn't feeling the pain as much now, because I was focused on his face, his eyes, and he kissed me all over. He started to move in and out and I joined him, moving my hips to his rhythm. I was sweating, he was too, his chest was crashing against my breasts, I couldn't think of anything more original to say except "Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" and slap my hands on the floor. As he stiffened I knew he was about to cum, so I shoved myself up at him again and again, as fast as I could, again and again, and caught him at the top as he came. We were completely out of breath as he collapsed onto me.

There is no "do-over" for your first time, and as I think back on it I am very pleased. We fucked slowly and sweetly that afternoon, playing with each other, this time doggy style, as he called it. By dinner time I was really sore and he was rubbed raw. I was surprised at the small amount of blood on the sheets and how much cum there was on both of us. I loved it, every bit of it.

As we entered the dining hall, a round of applause broke out — apparently we were making a lot of noise, and everyone on the floor and the one below it knew what was going on!

Peter raised our clasped hands high and whispered "curtsy on the count of three" and he bowed deeply. The applause was wonderful.

We fucked again that night and fell asleep. During one of our post-coitals, Peter had told me he was going to leave in the morning.

I awoke as the sun came up and contemplated the future. As I looked at my sleeping lover, naked under the covers right beside me, I decided I was in love with him.

We showered together, then had a final fuck. This time the sex was very sweet, poignant, a good-bye gesture. As we lay in each other's arms, his face contorted strangely. The words tumbled out.

"Julie, I love you very much. I don't want to leave you, not now, not ever. But my livelihood is in New York. Will you come there for spring break? I have an apartment, friends I want you to meet, and New York's an extraordinary place."

"I can do that. I love you too."

"There's one more thing," he said. "I'm not sure I will let you come back here, I love you that much. I don't know what I'm saying, I've never felt this way, it's more than lust."

He was so sweet, lying there with one leg between mine, the cum starting to dry and his cock hanging limply.

"But I can't see asking anyone to stay with me forever if she hasn't known more than one man." I gulped.

"So here's what I want you to promise me you will do. I want you to find a guy here and take him to bed. Fuck him hard, fuck him well, learn what makes him silly putty under your body. I hope you won't fall in love with him, but that's the chance I'll take. Then, when you come to New York, we can see if we can make it work."

At first what he was saying didn't register, but as he finished I got madder and madder. How dare he think that I couldn't make my own choices! A woman has more sense than that. I'm not making decisions with my cock.

"That's insulting, Peter! You're telling me to fuck someone else, anybody else, because you're insecure about keeping me in the big city!" I was sputtering, I tried to hit him, but he deflected my fist.

"You're right, I am insecure about this. You're so different. I'm so in love with you. I can't stand the idea of having you there and then losing you. You've got to promise me."

Great. I've fallen in love with a guy who loves me and is a terrific lover, but he wants to pimp me long distance, for no money and no thrill, so that . . . what?

"I'll think about it, Peter. You're asking an awful lot on your way out the door."

We cleaned up, went to lunch in the dining hall (no applause this time), and he got into his car and drove away.

Our 24 hours was the talk of the dorm. Most of my freshies thought it was very romantic. One came in to compare notes about her first time (they all seemed to know it was mine) and a couple more shyly came in to see how it had changed me.

It had. Over the next few days I reconsidered the idea that I loved Peter, but it wouldn't go away. I went to see one of the senior RAs, the guy I could go to about intractable situations my kids had gotten into.

"He sounds like he's ready to settle down. He's met a terrific girl, the sex is great, but he's not sure he can hold you. I'm like you, Corvallis is my idea of the big city. He doesn't want to overwhelm you. I'd say he's doing the right thing by you, even if he's said it pretty awkwardly.

"On the other hand, he's asking you to do something that appalls you. Maybe this is his way of breaking up with you. You have the freedom to make this choice. You can stop any time. He's offering you a chance to spread your wings. I'd volunteer for the assignment, but you ought to look around for someone more anonymous."

Peter had told me that it's every male's wet dream that a beautiful girl comes up to him on the street and asks him to fuck her. Of course, then he tickled me and . . .

It was cold and damp on that bright afternoon one week before spring break. I had just been turned down by guy #4. I was wearing a windbreaker and baggy pants, an outfit that may not have radiated availability and lust.

I'd decided to hit on guys just a little taller than me. No drunks, not high. They had to be walking alone. Also not wearing another school's sweatshirt. I figured no one was going to report me to the campus police but I would only proposition three guys at any one location.