Summers First Love

Summer loses her virginity, the first stage in her winter of discontent.

*

The first time I fell in love was during the summer, so long ago. I was forced to go to the beach with my parents, up until I was 19-years-old and went off the college. Finally, I had a life of my own. Afraid I'd party with some guy, while they were gone and get me pregnant, they watched over me 24/7. Only, back then, too busy with getting good grades in school, I didn't even have time for a boyfriend. I had a lot of male friends, but no one serious. We all just hung out together at my house, at their house, at the park, and at the mall.

It wasn't easy for them to see me alone without my parents watching but, when they did, my male friends gave me the practice that I needed to transform myself from a girl to a woman. It was fun teasing my male friends, learning from their reactions what guys like, while watching their emotions and feeling their erections grow in their pants by me flashing them some up skirt panty peeks and down blouse bra views. They were always trying to get me to touch the hard lump in their pants, while trying to kiss me and steal feels of my tits and my ass.

The teasing usually ended up in a wrestling match, which I always won, with me pinning them down, while sitting on top of them in the way that Elly May Clampett of the Beverly Hillbillies sat on Jethro. Now, that I think about it, I wonder if they had planned to make me win, all along, so as to get me to sit on top of their cock and give them an oblivious lap dance, especially whenever I was wearing a short skirt. I was so naive.

I remember not wanting to go to the beach with my parents. I remember wanting to go to the beach with my friends. I remember being angry, sad, and miserable that my Dad forced me to go with them. I could be such a bitch, when the mood struck.

"You can bring a friend with you, Summer," said my Dad.

They named me Summer because I was born the first day of summer. Although I'm not crazy about the name, if I had been born in one of the other seasons, my name could have been worse. Fortunately, they didn't think to name me after a day of the week or a month of the year.

"My friends are all going to the beach together today, Daddy. No one will change their plans to have some real fun at the beach to go with you guys to be bored."

"Well, then, they aren't really your friends then because..."

I stopped listening, when he started with, then they aren't your real friends. How many lectures, the same lectures over and again, about friendship, people, and life, must I endure? They don't know anything. After a while, all his lectures morphed into one big, stupid lecture. Yeah, I know all that stuff about friendship, but I know that I'm miserable going to the beach with my parents, when I'd rather go to the beach with my friends.

Wishing I could just fly away, they clipped my wings by treating me like a child and forcing me to go with them. I couldn't even breathe without them checking on me to see if I was okay. Still feeling, as if I was attached to my Mom's belly with an umbilical cord, I felt suffocated. An only child, I still felt like their baby. Constantly watched over by my Dad, I felt like a criminal. Having to go with them, I felt smothered and claustrophobic. They didn't allow me to do anything, back then.

"It's not fair, Daddy," I said stomping my foot and acting like the child they think that I still am and treat me as such. "You don't trust me to do anything. Why can't I stay home alone?"

"Just get in the car, Summer. We're leaving."

With thoughts of running away from home, I took my familiar place in the backseat. At least they weren't singing songs anymore or playing that stupid I Spy game during the drive. They treat me like such a child, when, at 19-years-old, I'm a woman.

Finally, after driving for two, long, boring hours, we get there and the first thing I see is a lifeguard tower. It's difficult not to notice anything new in this little strip of land. Away from the hanging tree branches, the tower was setback from the beach and raised up on a little knoll, so that the lifeguard had a clear view of the water.

When did they do that, I wondered? We've been coming here forever, since I was a baby, and they never had a lifeguard on duty before. Maybe today won't suck as much as I thought it would. Maybe they'll have a hot lifeguard like on Baywatch. I only wished. He's probably some short, skinny, pimply faced boy.

Then, I saw him. Wow! The lifeguard was a hunk. Tall and leanly muscular, he was so handsome in his orange bathing suit. His broad shoulders made his waist look so tiny. Suddenly, I had a fantasy of him rescuing me. With thoughts of his strong arm around my breasts, I imagined him swimming me to shore, before leaning down to kiss me, I mean, give me mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Only, with my luck, they probably don't do that anymore because of diseases and just push up and down on your chest. Well, that's okay, too. He can push up and down on my chest anytime, so long as his cock is in between my legs.

"Daddy, look, they have a lifeguard," I said with disinterest, while never removing my stare from the bulge that puffed out his tight bathing trunks. Be still my heart.

"Yeah, a little boy drowned last year and his parents sued the facility," said my Dad shaking his head. "It was very tragic," said my Dad making the sign of the cross.

He was a religious man. A devote Catholic, he would have made a good Mormon or a preacher, if only he could have pulled his head from out of his ass. He was such a hick.

The lawsuit must have taken a toll on the place because the resort was looking a bit run down. The buildings all could use some paint. It was a small beach on a lake, a private resort that had seen better days. They had cabins that people could rent, public dressing cabanas, a few rustic restrooms, and a restaurant with a mini arcade for the kids. Yet, after coming here every year, since I was a kid, I was already bored. It's funny how the place looks so much smaller than how I remembered it. I used to think the beach was huge. Instead, it was tiny.

They didn't even have a pool, just the beach and the lake. The beach area looked manmade and, no doubt, it was. I remember seeing a big truck dumping sand, when we drove up here, before the start of the season, one year. My Dad was enamored with the place and he wanted to see what it looked like without people.

The beach wasn't even that big, about a 1/4 mile long. There was a slide where all the kids played, a raft way out in the middle of the lake, and a buoy further out that roped off their property line. I imagine they didn't want boaters plowing into swimmers.

I laughed remembering that I used to tell the little kids that the buoys were where the shark net was, so that sharks couldn't get through to eat swimmers and bathers. Once in a while, a shark eats through the net and gets someone who swam out too far from shore. Obviously little kids didn't know sharks were only in salt water and not fresh water. Now I wished there were really sharks. At the time, so bored and frustrated, I believed that being eaten by a shark was a better fate than having to go to the beach with my parents.

There was a bench lined boardwalk that strollers could walk out over the water and sit and stare at the people in the water. The bench was always filled with mothers watching their children and grandmothers watching their grandchildren splashing around in the water. With so many people jammed into one little spot on a hot, summer day it was a noisy place to be and I didn't know how anyone could have drown, as there was no place to even fall down without crashing into someone.

The raft was stationary and was made of weathered wood covered with canvas. It was a twelve foot square that comfortably held a half dozen people. Supported by empty barrels that surrounded it, the raft was anchored in water that was about twenty feet deep. Only, once the teenagers hit the raft in the afternoon, there were always a dozen rowdy boys trying to sink it, but no one ever did. For something that looked so weathered, it was sturdy.

With my weight more towards the back of the raft, that part furthest from shore, so long as I stayed where I was, no one could see me from shore. Unless my Dad decided to climb the lifeguard tower to check on me, which I knew he wouldn't because he has vertigo, I could have sex on the raft and he'd never know. I wish. Sex On The Raft, hmm, a good title for a story. I'm an amateur writer, a dedicated journal writer, and my imagination ran wild with my sudden horniness and surge of hormones.

With half sections of tires fastened to the outside perimeter of the float, the raft more resembled a tug boat without a helm, a square barge, really, than it did a raft. If nothing else, it allowed swimmers to rest and catch their breath, before swimming back to shore. Away from the crowd that always massed at the shoreline, it was a great place to get some sun and to jump or dive from to cool off in the water later. Any time I came to the lake with my folks, most people didn't swim out this far and I usually had the raft to myself.

Swimming out to the raft was fun and the first thing that I did, whenever we came here. They'd call me from shore when the food was ready. Before the crowd came at 11am, I'd have a few hours of quiet time.

Hanging out on the raft was my way of getting away from my parents. They knew I was out here. They saw me swimming out to the raft. Neither of my parents could swim and this was my one hiding place to get away from them. The perfect place to hide from the crowd, most of the little kids can't swim out this far and, since I've always been a strong swimmer and, until the mad mob came, I had the raft to myself.

We were the first ones at the lake. No one was here, yet. My Dad liked getting here early, which is why we left the house at 5:00 in the morning to get here by 7am, so that he could scope out the best shady spot to set up his barbeque grille and lawn chairs. Soon, they'd be dribs and drabs of people, before the big crowd came. Then, the beach was so small and so tightly packed with people, it was impossible to walk the length of it without stepping on someone's blanket or towel.

Back then, I remember that I couldn't wait for September to go off to college. Finally, I'd be free of my parents treating me like a child. Finally, I'll have some real freedom. Finally, I could do what I want. Finally, I could drink. Finally, I could get laid.

I remember laying out on the raft and getting some sun, while looking up at the clear blue sky. Feeling a little wicked, feeling a little horny, yet, not having the nerve to go topless, my bikini top was already unhooked and my straps were off my shoulders. The contours of my breasts were the only thing holding on my bra and I could feel my nipples hardening from the warmth of the sun. I was showing a lot of tit, more tit than I ever showed any of my wrestling friends, but it was already getting hot and I was alone on the raft.

The hot sun was making me horny, so I closed my eyes to go with a sexual fantasy, while resting my hand on a spot between my legs, I knew would get me excited. I imagined the lifeguard swimming up to the raft, climbing on, and watching me touch myself without me knowing he was there. I imagined him leaning over me and if it wasn't for the water that dripped from his toned, hard body onto mine, he would have caught me by surprised, when he kissed me.

"What are you doing?" I flicked open my eyes and with my hands against his muscular chest, he was too strong for me to resist. A man not to be denied, he wanted me. He really wanted me. "Let go of me, you brute," I imagined uttering.

Mindful of not wanting to lose my top, I imagined struggling to resist him, as he kissed me again, this time forcing his tongue in my mouth. With a swipe of his hand, I imagined him removing my bikini top and engulfing my B cup breast in his big hand. Then, when he started fingering my nipple, while still French kissing me, is when I could feel myself getting wet, so very wet. When he lowered his head to my breast and took my nipple in his mouth, first one and then the other, I knew that I was his, forever.

Then, lowering the weight of his body to mine, I could feel his pressed cock throbbing against my pussy through our bathing suits. It was obvious by the involuntary movement of his big prick that he wanted me, as much as I wanted him. When he leaned down to take my nipple in his mouth again, is when I reached down his bathing suit to take his cock in my hand. He was so big. He was so hard. He was so ready to make love to me.

I felt his hand touch me between my legs and, as if he was a skilled surgeon, he touched me like no man had ever felt me before. He moved my bathing suit out of the way and I could feel his fingers exploring me. I was wet. I was so very wet and, with his index finger toying with my clit, I felt an excitement stronger and deeper than the pleasure that only I've been able to give myself. I felt his middle finger probe me deeper.

"Yes, that's it. Right there. Touch me there. Don't stop. Easy. Gently. Press it. Rub it. Oh, baby. Don't stop."

With my hand inside his bathing suit and my fingers wrapped around his big, hard cock, slowly I stroked his pulsating manhood, before I--

"Hi," he said, as he climbed up on the raft and pulled his wet body next to mine.

A sight to behold, and what a sight he was, I couldn't believe it. Am I dreaming him or is he really here? Am I still having a sexual fantasy? What am I psychic? Did I will him here? I imagined him and suddenly, here he is.

As he pulled himself up and onto the raft, imagining him just stepping out of the shower naked, pretending that he was my lover, I watched the water cascading off his toned, tanned body. After the fantasy that I just had of him kissing me, while he fondled my breast and explored me deeper with his fingers and I fondled and stroked his cock, the droplets of water that fell from his body onto mine did nothing to cool my desire for him. Rippled, as if he had swallowed a washboard, his abs looked more like a twelve pack than a six.

He had a swimmers body and I just wanted to feel and touch him everywhere. With the broadest shoulders I've ever seen on a man and a smile so white and bright that he made me want to bask in his shadow and kiss him, he was beautiful. His thick, sun drenched blonde hair contrasted his deep, dark tan, but his eyes were so brightly blue that they were startling, mesmerizing, and hypnotizing. Had he not just been swimming, I would have thought they were colored contacts. I imagined running my fingers through his lush hair, as he undressed me with his eyes and touched me everywhere with his big hands, while French kissing him.

"Hi," I said shading my eyes with my hand. I looked at him longer this time. The sight of him melted my heart and stunned my brain.

Playing it cool, I didn't want him to know that I was already interested, an understatement, in love, and already aroused. I was already wet, so very wet, and so very ready to be fucked and fucked hard by him. Whether from the hot sun, the fantasy of him I just had, the arrival of him, or a combination of the three, I was horny and ready to get laid.

If I wasn't a virgin, I'd fuck him right here and right now and write a story about it later. Definitely, without doubt, after just having had that sexual fantasy of my young life, I already had enough stuff to write in my journal tonight. I couldn't wait to see how this would play out now and to be alone in my room with my thoughts later.

"I've never seen you here before," he said with a smile that told me he was friendly enough to know everyone by name.

"That makes two of us," I said lifting my sunglasses to check out more of his hot body. He could have been on that show, True Beauty or Bachelor Pad, if they had that type of television show back then. That's how hot he looked. Matter of fact, he looked a little like that swimming coach, Brendon, on Big Brother 12, but younger and much better looking. With his longish hair and spectacular body, if I was to imagine an actor playing the new version of Tarzan, he'd be it.

He was taller and more muscular than any of my male friends, for sure. I imagined him carrying me off somewhere, anywhere away from my Dad, to have his lusty way with me. He Tarzan and me Jane, swinging from tree to tree with me hanging onto his back, while my Dad screamed at him to return me.

"It's gonna be a hot one," he said.

Gonna be? Ready to be hosed down, I was already on fire. I looked at him looking at me. He was checking me out. I couldn't believe he was checking me out. I thought I was the one that was horny. I thought he was the one that was hot. I thought I was the one doing the checking, but he was too. I knew I was showing some tit, but by the stare of him, I suddenly wondered how much tit I was showing.

I didn't know how much he could see of me and I was afraid to look down to see exactly what he could see for fear that he'd think me a dork. Wanting to play the sexy seductress, I didn't want him to think that I was a slut. I didn't want him to think that I was easy, there for the taking, but I was. Yet, from what I was showing him and by how he was looking at me with lustful desire, he made me feel sexy. He made me feel desired. He made me feel like a woman. Definitely, he must have liked what he was seeing because he looked interested. As if a starving man looking at a full course meal, he looked hungry. Eat me, devour me, I wanted to say, but didn't.

"The sun feels good, though," I said playing it cool and not even looking at him.

"You're so fair skinned with all that natural blonde hair, you're gonna burn," he said.

Burnt to a crisp by the imagined passion of him, a twelve alarm fire, if only he knew I was already aflame, ablaze by the passion and longing desire I had for him.

"Yeah, I haven't put on my sunscreen, yet."

"Want me to do that?"

I heard what he said, but it didn't register. My brain was on stun mode. I was so nervous thinking about his big hands massaging sunscreen in my hot skin that I didn't even know what I was saying.

"Do what?"

"Put some sunscreen on you."

The areas where I wanted him to rub sunscreen didn't need any protection from the sun, just from his horny hands.

"Is that part of the resort service," I said playing it cool and looking over at him, "having the lifeguard grease up the patrons?"

"No, I just thought that--"

"It's okay, I don't have any sunscreen with me anyway," I said wishing I had a handy tube of sunscreen hanging from my neck. "It's back on the beach in my bag."

"That's okay, I have some," he said reaching into his bathing trunks.

I watched him reach his hand in his bathing trucks and stopped myself from saying, "Let me do that for you."

When he reached his hand into his swim trunks, as if a wine steward pulling out a corkscrew to open an expensive bottle of wine, I imagined him pulling out his cock and offering it to me for my personal inspection.

"Sniff? Smell? Touch? Feel? Lick? Taste? Suck? Swallow?" Oh, yeah, I'd do him.

I imagined him stroking himself, while I watched. Dance for me baby, give me a show. I imagined him cumming off all over my nearly naked body and then rubbing his personal sunscreen, his warm, oozy cum into my soft, hot skin. Only, he pulled out a little tube from his inside pocket.

"What's that?"

"Sunscreen," he said with a big smile that made him even more better looking.

"You carry sunscreen around with you?" I laughed just to break my stare from gazing in his so blue eyes.

I looked down where he had retrieved the sunscreen, while wondering what else he had hidden in that tight bathing suit.