The Drive-In

Please read this series of stories in order for character development and continuity.

The ending of Part 1:

We got out of the car and walked the girls to the door. As we were going up the stairs, I stopped and said, "You know, there are a lot of things we didn't...."

"Yeah," she said quickly, "I want to do all of them with you. I want to feel everything. I want to make love with you. I have a feeling this is going to be a great summer."

Part 2:

I hesitated. Looking carefully into my eyes, she asked "You are okay with that, with what we..."

"Uh, yea, I want to do all that too. I'm looking forward to seeing a lot more of you. Oh Jeez, bad pun- I'm sorry."

Lisa giggled. "I was just thinking that I don't have your phone number or even know where you live," I observed.

"Oh, I live at the end of the next street on the left- that way. Our house is on the right side of the cul-de-sac. It's got brick down low, and the rest is painted kind of a dark orange color with white trim."

"Our phone number is 4611." Back then, in small towns, everybody had the same area code and the first 3 digits of their number so you could actually dial a neighbor with just the last 4 digits.

"That's kinda weird, ours is 4614." I said.

I saw her eyebrows shoot up. "That should be easy to remember."

Lisa looked down at her hands and said, "What are you doing Sunday afternoon?

My folks will be at my grandparent's house in Norwood for a barbeque." Looking up she added, "I could say I was too busy and stay home."

"I could probably get there around 3-ish."

"Great, I want to show you something."

It was my turn for upturned eyebrows. "No, not that- well maybe- if you're lucky," she clarified.

We both looked up the stairs toward the house as Carla said, "Guys, it's been fun, but my folks could be back at any time. Wrap it up Lisa."

"It's a date," I said just before giving her another deep but gentle, unhurried kiss. It felt so good.

In the car, my first comment was, "Well, that seemed to have gone well for us all."

"Jesus, Carla is hot," Bert started, "We couldn't get enough of each other. She suggested we come over to her house for a pool party next Saturday."

"I've got swim practice in the morning, but I could probably get away."

"Wow did that just happen?" he asked, shaking his head. "Lisa looked pretty happy before we left too."

"We've got a date Sunday afternoon."

"Good for you. We've got nothing up until next weekend."

We said our goodbyes at the curb, and I walked up the driveway to the house. My mom was still up, sitting on the couch reading a book. "Good movie?" she asked.

"It was okay," I answered and, to deflect the question, I added "I like Bert. We've never really hung out before, but he's recently joined the Bridge group and I've played with him several times." In my defense, all of that was true.

A few of the students, including myself, had started playing Bridge during lunch and study halls, and just about any free time we had. At first there were 4 of us, then 8. We each had learned it from our parents or grandparents at some point.

Some of the other students saw us having fun and joined in. There were always lessons for those who wanted to learn. Eventually, we would have 10 or so games going on most of the time. The school administrators couldn't figure out how to respond. On the one hand the kids were all playing cards at school- and that couldn't be good- but on the other hand, it WAS Bridge- a very socially acceptable game. In the end, the principal decided it was good for our brains and left us alone.

A couple of the teachers even joined in occasionally.

My mom said, "That's good dear. I like it when you make new friends. I'm going to bed here in a minute, but I want to finish this chapter first. Good night."

On the way up the stairs, I went over tonight's events in my mind. I sniffed my fingers and my cock started tingling and feeling heavier in my shorts. I closed my bedroom door, stripped off my clothes- all of them- and started fondling my stuff. I cupped my balls and stroked my shaft and thought of the sliding my finger in and out of Lisa's pussy as she stroked my cock with her lips. All I could dimly see was the back of her head, but my imagination was working overtime filling in the rest.

"That's probably why they call it head", I observed silently. She had given me my first blowjob, and she had wanted to do it.

I took my hand off my cock long enough to smell my fingers again. I was close. Too keep my spunk from spraying across the room, I grabbed a tissue and held it over the end of my cock. Even though I had come twice that evening already, a sizeable volume of jism filled the tissue as my eyes rolled back in pleasure.

The next morning, I had swim practice. I had been a competitive swimmer since I'd lost my first race back in 4th grade. I hadn't lost a race since then. Some of the parents and my coach had big plans for my swimming career, but I wasn't sure I wanted to work that hard for as long as it would take. I was a naturally strong swimmer with a powerful kick, but to get to the next level would take a real commitment.

After lunch I started my homework for the weekend, but all I could think of was Lisa. I contemplated going back up to my room for another go, decided not to, and then 15 minutes later decided the pressure was too much. After my much-needed wank, I did some of the chores I had been assigned. Before I knew it, it was time for dinner.

Sunday morning, my folks went to church and took my two younger siblings to Sunday School. At 18, I'd been excused from attending, but I still went once in a while to make my mom happy. Religion, I just didn't get it. For years, I had driven my Sunday School teachers crazy by asking never-ending, highly logical questions about their doctrine. Each "answer" I got would bring up another question, etc., until I was inevitably told "You've got to have faith." I never got past that. It was the end of the discussion. They had nothing more. To me that was the stupidest answer I had ever heard. They were in essence saying, "In order to believe, you have to have believe."

I had so many questions for Lisa I couldn't even keep track, including- was she religious.

While they were gone, I finished my homework, made a sandwich, watched some TV, and shot some hoops out on the driveway.

At two thirty, my mom had gone shopping or something, so I left a note saying, "Gone out, back for dinner."

I'd been thinking about how best to get to Lisa's house, and I figured I could go down to the end of our neighborhood and cut across the woods near the High School to her part of town. There was a hill that I could skirt and a boggy area I could walk around on the way. I got a little lost, but I'd left early so I rang her doorbell right at 3.

The door flew open, and she showed me her beautiful white teeth through a smile. She leaned out, grabbed my hand, and pulled me inside. In the entryway, she stood on tiptoe and gave me a kiss. I pulled her to me, and we held each other for a few seconds. She felt good in my arms.

She was wearing a tee shirt and running shorts. It was a nice warm afternoon and it seemed appropriate. I must admit that I was also thinking how easy it would be to get into, under, and around those unsubstantial coverings.

"I want to show you something. Come with me."

She took my hand and led me to the back door. We walked across the back yard to the back gate and started up the hill, still holding hands. At one point, I realized it was near where I had gone cross country to get to her house.

The first house built in Medfield is still there. It's called the Peak House and has an historic marker on it saying, "built in 1609". Back then, New England was mostly forest so settlers would cut down the forest to build their homes and clear their fields of stumps and rocks to facilitate planting. The soil was very rocky, so it took decades to move the rocks with the equipment available to them.

One of the things they did with the rocks was to build walls. Walls to delineate property lines and walls to separate fields.

Today, even though most of the small farms have disappeared, and the forest has regrown, it is very common to find a long, beautiful rock wall making its way across a wooded area for no apparent reason.

We were now walking along beside one of these walls as we climbed the hill. It didn't quite make the top of the hill before starting back down the other side. She hoisted herself up, sat on the wall, and motioned for me to join her. From our vantage point, we could see over the trees below us and see all the way to downtown and out toward the river to the West. There were plenty of trees at the top of the hill offering their shade. A hundred yards below us someone had begun clearing trees to put in a new road, but the nearest houses I could see were a quarter mile away on the other side of the boggy area.

There would be lots of mosquitos here later in the summer, but this early in the season we just had a few gnats hovering in little columns in the sunshine. It was sunny and warm.

"This is my favorite place," she admitted. "We've lived here since I was little, and this has always been my safe place. Sometimes I do my homework up here, sometimes I play my guitar. It's even a great place to take a nap- see right here", she indicated the area behind the wall where pine needles had been falling from several big trees for years and formed a thick mat. "Its amazing how infrequently I see anyone up here."

We turned to each other and moved together for a kiss. I looked and this time she had closed her eyes. It was exciting and completely natural at the same time.

"I didn't know you played the guitar."

"Since I was 10. I'm pretty good. I like playing classical and flamenco, but I know most of the pop songs too."

"I'd like to hear it.", I said. "I play the piano. I've been working on some ragtime stuff- Scott Joplin. It's nearly impossible for my brain to figure out with the two hands doing such different things."

"I also meant to ask, is your family religious?"

She smiled, "Not really. We're technically Catholic but we don't go to church very often. Three of four times a year. When I was little, I loved all the showmanship, but since then I've not had much use for it.

"Are you?"

"I'm really not. My folks go to church- Christian Scientist- and I went to Sunday School as a kid, but I never saw the point. Sounds like we're pretty compatible there."

"You said you're planning on going to Amherst. Why there?"

"Grampa, my mom's dad, went there. My parents met there and my brother's graduating next month. I'm considered a legacy. Never really thought about going anywhere else. It's a beautiful campus but it does get cold in the winter. I guess that's better for studying."

"My dad went to UCLA, and I really liked the campus when I went to visit. The weather's great and it's near the beach- so much for studying."

"Look, I love talking, but I want to do more than talk."

Lisa swung her legs around and hopped off the wall on the uphill side. I followed her. She fished a blanket out from under a bush and laid it down on the pine needles. I liked the way her mind worked.

"You don't think we're going too fast, do you?" she asked. "I mean, normally people don't just jump in like this. Actually, I have no idea, maybe they do, but I don't want to scare you off."

"I think we should go at whatever pace you feel comfortable with. I'm just as happy sitting and talking, well maybe not JUST as happy, but I really am enjoying being with you."

She knelt on the blanket, held out her hand and looked up at me with imploring eyes that burned like green fire. I knelt next to her and kissed her. We very quickly sat down then laid down snogging like the teenagers we were.

It felt so good that we continued for probably 15 minutes. We were getting comfortable with each other. I caressed her breasts. She had worn a brassiere this time. I worked my knee up between her legs pressing on her sex. Our breathing got faster and heavier.

"Wait, wait," she said, and stood up. She went over to the wall's edge and peered over.

"All clear", she declared. "I heard some kids, but they're over on the other side of the pond. You know I fell through the ice into that pond when I was little. Only went in up to my knees but I lost my boots in the mud and ran all the way home barefoot. I hope never to be that cold again."

She came back and knelt again. She reached out and stroked by cock through my pants then leaned over and pulled my shoes off. She reached for the snap on my pants, pulled down the zipper, grabbed the legs of my pants and pulled. "It's funny, but I feel perfectly comfortable undressing you like this." I lifted my butt and the pants slid right off.

After a few more seconds, I was laying there in my Jockeys. I reached over to her, but she stopped me. "My turn first this time," she announced.

The head of my cock had worked its way up past the waistband of my underwear. There was a bead of precum glistening on it. Lisa reached out and rested her hand on me. "What are you thinking?", she asked.

"What... Oh, umm, I'm thinking two, no, three things." I replied. "First, I was thinking that this is a moment that guys- me specifically- think, no, dream about." "A beautiful girl about to stroke my penis is about as great as it gets."

"I'm gonna let you in on a secret, girls- me specifically- dream about it too. We think a lot about sex, but we've been drilled for years about how dangerous it is for us because of the enormous consequences of doing it wrong and getting pregnant."

"We get that warning too, but it's always kind of theoretical danger- not as immediate as it is for you."

"The other thing I was thinking," I said as Lisa started rubbing the tip of my cock with her thumb making it hard to concentrate, "was you said you trusted me. That's a lot of responsibility, but you won't know if I'm worthy of it until we've been together for a while. I want you to know I'm thinking about it too and I'm taking it seriously."

With that, she reached in and pulled my cock out of my Jockey's. "Thank you, I appreciate it, more than you know."

"The third thing I was thinking was, and this is a little embarrassing, is what do you want to call, er, our parts?"

"What," she asked, looking up.

"That thing that's in your hand- just between us- what do you want to call it? Penis? Cock? Dick?, Schlong? Pecker? Something else? I always hated the term Penis. Just now when I said it, I cringed a little."

"I know," she laughed, "vagina is a horrible word too. Sounds technical like we're in Biology class. And it just describes one of the many parts. Carla and I call ours 'Pussies' or 'our Kitties'. That covers the whole thing in one term."

"I don't know, what do you call your 'Penis'?"

"I usually don't refer to it at all, but I guess 'Dick' is better than 'Penis'."

"Oh god no, I have an Uncle Dick, my dad's brother. That would be way too weird. I like 'Cock'," she said. "Simple, one syllable, sounds sexy and just a little dirty. I say we go with 'Cock' and 'Pussy'.

She giggled as if she'd remembered a joke. "By the way, I went to some of your swim meets last year because I liked watching the boys- you specifically- in your Speedo's. It doesn't seem possible that you get your nice ass, and that beautiful "Cock" all in a little bag of nylon. Girls- me specifically- get all tingly watching your cock through the thin material, especially when it gets wet."

"Stop talking and let me get on with it," she said as she lowered her face to her work.

I just couldn't help myself and I started fondling her breasts up under her shirt. Lisa stopped long enough to remove her bra for my convenience. She did that thing girls do to remove it without taking off their shirt, snaking it out through the arm hole. Seemed to me like it violated some pretty basic laws of physics.

"You know that girls, women, are self-conscious about their tits, or breasts- we haven't talked about that one yet, but I vote for tits. Anyway, there are so many shapes and sizes out there. A lot of guys seem like big tits. Are you disappointed?"

"Honey, your tits are beautiful. Huge ones look like they'd be exhausting to haul around. Yours are all any man could hope for. If anyone ever tells you otherwise, they're either gay or they're a jackass."

I was fascinated by how soft her breasts were. I was fascinated by how she squirmed when I lightly brushed her nipples. I was fascinated by how good it felt to have my very rigid cock in her mouth. I was paying close attention to everything.

My memory of that afternoon is very good. I may have embellished the details in the years since, but I remember all the details very well.

After a couple of minutes, I just had to have more. I asked, "Do you trust me?"

A wet slurping noise, then "A little late for that, isn't it?"

"No, I mean yes, but I, I want to try something."

Lisa stopped what she was doing and watched me as I reached for her shorts. I pulled them down and pulled off her panties. They momentarily got hung up on her shoes, which I had not removed. I admired her strong, athletic bottom. I noticed she had a "shorts tan" but no bathing suit tan lines yet. After a little fumbling around, I positioned myself so our we both faced each other's sex. I tilted my pelvis upward and bent my knee so she'd have a better angle and I lifted her top leg (her left) up and over my left arm so I could get a better view of her pussy. I was in hyper-observant mode right now. I was aware I'd never have another first time to do this. Time seemed to grind to a halt as I noticed every detail. Her skin against mine felt impossibly good.

She had a very sparse bush of light blonde pubic hair in front tapering down to almost none further back. Her outer lips were full and soft to the touch. I could see where each hair attached to the skin at what looked like goose bumps. At first her lips stayed mostly closed- open only about 1/4 inch, and I could see the deeply pink, wetly juicy, glistening parts just below the surface in her slit. Her fragrance was rich and sweet and animal. It was a pheromone that locked onto a hidden part of my brain and wouldn't let go.

I noticed the skin around her ass pucker was a shade or two darker than elsewhere and I watched it expand and contract a little every few seconds. I knew it was time to DO something, but I was mesmerized by the beauty in front of me. I was overwhelmed by the amount of trust she was giving me to treat her well, to do it right, to be both a lover and a friend. I desperately wanted to give this woman, my woman, pleasure.

I rubbed with my thumbs and opened her labia. Low-pitched moans came during each of her exhalations. She had been quiet at the drive-in but was loosening up now that we were alone. It looked and smelled so enticing that I poked my tongue out and into her slit, licking along her length. More moans. More confident now, I flattened my tongue and did a big sweep from front to back. She jerked a little when I rubbed over her clit. That was fun so I did it again just to watch her jerk again. She came off my cock to say, "Not on my clitoris yet. Too sensitive right now- it almost hurts. I'll tell you when."

After a little adjustment, we fell into a rhythm. I couldn't believe how natural this position felt and how natural it felt to be tasting her. Continued moaning told me I was doing okay.

After another minute I got another idea. Pulling her leg all the way over me and settling down on my back, I was looking directly up at her pussy. From that moment to today, this has been my favorite position in sex. It's like having the most succulent, ripest, and juiciest peach dangling just an inch above your upturned lips.