Having reached the age of fifty-five and grown invisible to young women, I find myself reminiscing more and more about my former sex life. It was a good one. The list of women I had intercourse with numbers thirty-six, unless I've forgotten one or two. As I created the list, I realized that more than a third of those were "one-night stands." Seven of those relationships were just bad mistakes, "thinking with the wrong head," and quickly remedied. Seven others, however, were among the most spectacular of my life. This is one of them.
It was August of 1970 if I recall correctly. That would have made me twenty-one. I know that Elvis was performing in Las Vegas because we were amazed at the length of the lines of middle-aged women buying tickets, often dragging husbands behind them.
My buddy Jack and I were hiking the great parks of the West and had had enough of camping for awhile. We decided to splurge and take a motel room on the edge of the town for two days. We had hooked up in Yellowstone with a guy I'll call Howard. All three of us were camera bugs, and our mutual interest made travel together fun. Howie had been on his own but thought our itinerary was fine.
The motel was nothing special. All it had was a decent outdoor pool. None of us had money for expensive digs much less to gamble, since we were all college students. We took in a couple of shows from the cheap seats. Otherwise, we slept, ate, drank, and swam.
The clientele at the motel wasn't the classiest either. There was just this one standout girl. We took bets on how old she was. Her body would have served any mature woman well. She was fully developed, with large breasts and full hips. Her mons veneris was prominent. But she had a baby face with a sprinkling of small pimples across the freckles on her cheeks. She also had braces on her teeth. She was going to be a knockout in a couple of years. With her shoulder-length blond hair, she looked remarkably like De De Lind, a very popular Playboy Playmate from 1967. My guess and Jack's was that she was seventeen. Howie guessed eighteen, but we said it was wishful thinking.
She seemed to be by herself, which we thought strange. I'll be honest; after all these years, I can't remember her name. I only know it was something corn-fed like Suzie or Becky and that she hailed from Nebraska, Kansas or Oklahoma. In those days, bikinis were the rage. She had on a yellow polka-dot one, just like the song from the 1950s It didn't leave much to the imagination. Suzie hadn't had her equipment long and was definitely trying it out. She was thrusting her breasts at virtually any man with breath in him, constantly self-consciously adjusting her bikini. However, most of the males were married men or their little sons. The only eligible men around the pool that day were Jack, Howie, and me.
I was the boldest among the three of us. I waited until she was covered by the water and less apt to be self conscious to make my move. I swam half a dozen laps with a quick Australian crawl to show off and made sure to end up beside her. She complimented my stroke and I remember thinking, "I'd like to show you other strokes, Miss." She told me her name and that she was from Nebraska. She also divulged the mystery of why she was alone. Her parents were inveterate gamblers and spent night and day at the tables. She was too young to be with them and was abandoned to the pool.
"I can't even get drunk," she complained to me. Looking at her innocent face, I was mildly stunned by this admission.
"How old are you?" I asked.
"Eighteen," she replied.
I still believed she was seventeen.
"You're allowed to drink in your state at eighteen?" I pursued.
My folks drink a lot," she answered obliquely. "They don't notice if I take a couple swigs from their bottles."
I told her she looked more like sixteen. She had her clutch purse right next to her at the edge of the pool. She dug into it for a driver's license with her name on it. According to the license she was eighteen, but I noticed that she had had it tucked into a secret compartment. She cocked her head at me. "They left me five bucks for food. There's a liquor store down the street. How about you get me a bottle of rye whiskey, and I'll let you have a couple drinks?"
"I can do better than that," I said, hoping the cool water would help to keep my package at least semi-soft following her words. "I have a bottle of vodka in my room. All you want for free. Do you like vodka?"
"I like anything that gets me high," she said.
I also had a couple of cans of orange drink in the room. It wasn't orange juice, but it served to cut the edge off the vodka. That and a little ice were all this young lady needed to fly.
Suzie got right out of the pool and grabbed her towel. "Which way?" she asked.
As we passed my partner, Jack, he shook his forefinger at me in warning. I knew I was taking a risk, but she had shown me her driver's license, and as far as I was concerned, it was a license to fornicate.
We had left the room air conditioning going full blast. By the time I had the first drink ready for blonde, blue-eyed Suzie, she was quivering with the cold. Maybe a bit of it was also in anticipation of what was to happen. I went into the bathroom and got her a fresh towel. She sat on the bed, and I began to dry her off, starting with her shoulders and neck and working slowly and sensuously downward. She chugged the damned drink. If Suzie is still alive, I'm betting she's seen more than one detox unit. I got right up and fixed her another. Then I returned to my gentle rubbing. I sat on the floor next to the bed and lifted her feet in turn. After I had dried between each toe, which made her giggle, I sucked and tongued them.
"You're getting me wet again," she said.
My intent was precisely that. "Do you want me to stop?" I asked.
"No." She arched her spine and thrust her breasts out. "Do whatever you want."
I finished drying her legs right up to her bikini bottom. She kept her eyes closed but knew exactly how to get the glass to her mouth. Soon enough, the second drink was gone. I took the glass from her and stood. By this time, my cock was tenting out my swim trunks. She had to have seen my erection but made no comment.
As I filled her glass for a third time, I said, "You're very fair. You've already gotten a lot of sun, and you'll burn if you don't put on more suntan lotion. I've got some powerful stuff here. Let me put it on you."
She agreed with no argument. I grabbed the remaining towels and spread them out so I wouldn't ruin the bed cover.
Suzie bottoms-upped her third libation and then spread herself along the length of my bed, also bottom up. I turned on the radio. It had some Country song on that she professed to like, so I let in play.
