In July 1962, when Marilyn and I were 18 years old and newly graduated from high school, Rudi Gernreich designed the first women's topless bathing suit. Our home town, in California's Central Valley, was shocked by the idea, especially when Page One of The San Francisco Chronicle included photos of women wearing them on the beach. Carefully placed driftwood concealed the models' breasts, but young men, such as I, fantasized about what we would be seeing if the view hadn't been spoiled.
The coastal metropolises, San Francisco and Los Angeles, were allegedly home to a high level of licentiousness, but our small city was nothing like that. Almost all the women, and a big majority of the men, were virgins until their wedding nights. Those who were not virtually always married the persons who had been their only sexual partners. Marilyn and I were both virgins, and I don't mean what are sometimes called "technical virgins". On occasion, my hand had strayed to her breast, to be pushed aside, firmly but without rancor. That was the extant of our sexual adventures.
We had talked, seriously and lovingly, of marriage, and her parents and mine favored the idea, but they all kept telling us to wait and be sure before taking such an important step. It went without saying that we should also forego sex until we were married. We agreed with their counsel. She and I would be attending the same state university, and we would be dating regularly, so there was no urgency. It was the same university as her father and mine had attended, but Marilyn would be the first women in either family to go on to any kind of higher education.
The weather was hot that Friday evening, as it always is in the Central Valley in July, and I intended to join Marilyn in the swimming pool in her family's back yard. Her parents were away for a weekend visit, but had no qualms about leaving their daughter alone. They knew her to be very responsible, and she would be on her own for weeks at a time once she started college. Even about that, they didn't worry, except for normal parental concerns. They knew I was going to be there that evening, but they trusted me as their own son. My parents held the same opinion of Marilyn, so nobody was concerned about our being together by ourselves.
I drove over, wearing swimming trunks under my jeans. She opened the door and we kissed, chastely but warmly. When the kiss ended, Marilyn leaned back in my arms and smiled at me.
"Go on out in the back yard," she told me. "I've got a new bathing suit, and I want to know what you think of it. Or of me in it."
"Okay." I knew I would adore her in any bathing suit, new or old, because she was so beautiful. Sometimes I wondered what someone like her saw in someone like me. I looked okay, tall, athletic, with regular features and short, brown hair. I not only looked athletic, I had been on the varsity in two sports in my senior year, although not a star in either of them. Marilyn, however, was a true beauty, with her long, light brown hair, blue eyes and curvy figure, as well as being intelligent, and the sweetest girl I had ever met.
After stripping off my outer clothing, I dove into the pool, and swam the length of it and back again. While I stood by the edge of the shallow end, I saw Marilyn come through the back door, and I climbed out to join her in the patio area. Her legs were bare, but she was wearing a short robe that covered her body, which seemed strange, because it wasn't needed in the warm air. She stood waiting for me, smiling prettily and holding the robe closed, while I approached.
"What do you think of my new bathing suit?" she asked. Before I could tell her I hadn't seen it yet, she opened the robe. I was struck dumb. Fortunately, I wasn't struck blind.
Marilyn was wearing a topless bathing suit, like those in the Chronicle, except there was no driftwood to block my view of her lovely breasts. She looked far better to me, than any of those models had. I had seen her in bathing suits and in skirts and sweaters, and I knew she had a terrific figure, but I had never realized until then just how terrific it really was. As I gawked, she smiled even more prettily, removed the robe, and hung it over the back of a chair.
"Well? Aren't you going to say anything?" she teased me by asking.
I found my voice then, and with two steps, I was in front of her. "You're even more beautiful than ever," I said, as I slipped my arms around her, and bent to kiss her.
I had kissed Marilyn many times, and sometimes I tried to sneak my tongue into her mouth in a French kiss. She always resisted, sometimes even turning her face, but that evening, her mouth opened wide, and my tongue glided in. I was exploring unknown territory, but the natives were friendly; I felt the tip of her tongue licking the underside of mine. We kissed repeatedly like that, for a long time, and I could feel our relationship moving to a new level.
Until then, I had never fondled Marilyn's breasts, but I decided to push my luck. Her succulent bare bosom was pressed against my equally bare chest, but I wanted more. Keeping my left arm around her waist, I slipped my right hand between our bodies and raised it until I gently held her left breast. Although she had always pushed my hands away when they tried to make a similar contact, even through her clothing, on that evening, Marilyn took hold of my other hand and placed it on her right breast. Her hands held my hips, and I saw her lean back and smile in a way I had never seen before.
I saw other things for the first time too - my hands on Marilyn's luscious breasts and her adorable nipples. They were dark pink, contrasting beautifully with the creamy white of her skin. Gently, I kneaded the vibrant flesh, and reached with my thumbs to touch her nipples. I expected them to be soft, like the rest of her breasts, and I was surprised that they felt hard.
"Do you like them?"
"Yes!" I blurted out. A second later, I added "I love them."
"Prove you love them."
I hesitated no more than a second. When you love something, you kiss it, so I bent down and kissed Marilyn's nipples.
"Just a minute." She pushed me away, but only briefly.
The suit wasn't really topless. It was trunks with straps crossing between her breasts and going over her shoulders and down her back. Marilyn brushed the straps away from her shoulders, and pushed them all the way down and away. After making her breasts even more accessible, she stepped close to me, and I resumed showing my love for them.
"Lick me there." Marilyn's voice sounded different, huskier, than I had ever heard it.
I changed from kissing to licking her nipples, and got another surprise. They felt even harder to my tongue than they had to my thumbs or lips, and the hardness seemed to consist of many tiny ridges. As my tongue caressed her hard nubbins and the pebbly areolas surrounding them, I could hear her breathing become shorter and faster, and I knew mine sounded the same.
An erection had been creating a bulge in my swimming trunks since the moment Marilyn opened her robe. When her hand went to the front of the trunks and squeezed that bulge, my cock got even harder.
"I don't really feel like swimming tonight, Georgie. Let's go to my room."
