A day in Maine with Karen
Morning
"Wow, you look great!" I told Karen when she came out of the restaurant to meet me after serving breakfast. I had driven up to see her at her summer waitressing jobs near Saco a few months before we both were heading off to college.
"I bet you're noticing my work uniform" and I definitely was. Short green skirt and a clingy, low-cut T-shirt with the restaurant logo in gold. "It's supposed to be noticed" she continued. "My boss Kim picked out the design a few years ago just after she started here. Kim said it immediately increased tips when we changed over to it."
"I bet the guys love it" I said.
"Well yes, if you call them guys. The customers here are mainly older couples. The old men struggle to check us out without being too obvious sitting there with their wives. Kim said if possible we shouldn't wear bras, and most of us can get away with it. The clingy fabric does the rest. Better than the uniforms at that damn all-girl boarding school which were designed to hide any sign of growing up. And the uniforms definitely work; the tips are good!"
We had met toward the end of our senior years. Karen and I sang in our schools' respective choruses, and we were bused together for a combined rehearsal, then a performance and dance in the gym. We had clicked meeting after the rehearsal, and I was anticipating dancing with her. I had wrapped my school gym's basketball nets with colored crepe paper and hooked up a lightbulb in each to create a romantic atmosphere. The dim lighting worked as I had hoped, and we made sure to share each slow dance and took every opportunity to cling as close as we could. I'm sure she could tell how excited our closeness made me; we even stole a few kisses when we thought no one was looking.
Then the lights came on; we said our goodbyes and separated to work through our final exams and graduation, then start our summer jobs.
"What would be fun to do, and when do you have to be back?" I said.
"I need to be here at quarter to twelve, and we could go for a swim. I hope you brought a swimsuit."
The restaurant was on one of the flat, sandy beaches south of Portland. It was midweek, still early in the season, so we had the town changing rooms to ourselves.
Karen came out wearing a simple one-piece bathing suit that complemented her slim, athletic figure. We walked hand-in-hand into the water and waded out almost to shoulder depth. Only a few people were in the water, and none were nearby. We immediately went into a clinch, kissing this time with no one watching. How nice to be together and able to touch her bare arms and back. Interrupted only by a quick pause to adjust my growing hard-on, we kept at this for a while.
Having roamed my hands over her back down to her buttocks, I located the zipper in the middle of the back, and slowly started zipping it down. "What are you doing?" Karen asked.
"Oh, I just wanted to touch more of your back," and continued until the zipper was all the way down. I wasn't lying; it was nice to feel her bare skin all the way down her back. I reached down with both hands and cupping her cheeks pressed her crotch against my stiff cock. She didn't object to me holding her firm bare bottom.
"Oh, I can tell you really want me!" she said, holding her arms against her sides to keep the front of the suit from falling down.
"Wouldn't you like to show me those boobies you've been flaunting at the old men?" I replied.
She thought for a few seconds, then moved her arms out to float on the water. I slowly peeled the front of her suit down below her waist, then pulled her to me and we kissed some more, this time both bare to the waist. Her body felt wonderful. She pressed against my erection without any help from me.
I said that I wanted to see her breasts and put my hands on her ribcage and gently lifted her to expose her breasts. Small but perfectly shaped boobs with small dark nipples against milky white skin. "Oh, I love your boobies!" I said and lifted her a bit higher so I could give each nipple a long kiss. I let her slide back down, catching her crotch on my cock on the way. She noticed and grinned.
"You certainly get me excited, as I'm sure you've felt. Would you like to check it out?" I asked, and before she could answer, I took her right hand and slipped it inside my swim trunks I wrapped her fingers around my penis and suggested that she see what she could find.
"Oh my God it's so thick! I thought it would be thinner to - you know - fit easily. Nice, but a little scary."
She explored enthusiastically, finding my testicles. "Hah! I got you by the balls! Give me a million dollars to get them back!" Looking at my face, she squeezed them until I winced.
"That feels good, but only up to a point," I said.
Meanwhile I was squeezing and stroking her breasts and marveling at how firm they were and how stiff the nipples were. I pulled her closer so just the nipples were touching my chest and moved her a little side-to-side to trace them against me.
We kept kissing, both rather short of breath, and I moved one hand inside the front of her suit. Karen obligingly moved her feet apart to give me more room, and I explored the warm, slippery folds. We kissed for a long time, savoring each other's touch. "You'll have to show me what feels good," I said.
"You must show me what to do also," she replied. "Let's go in and change; perhaps there's time to make out in the car before lunch."
We showered and changed back into our dry clothes and drove the car to a shady spot away from others.
After a moment of kissing, Karen slipped her hand down to my lap. "Wow it's hard again; I want to learn how to work it -- whatever you do for yourself."
I unzipped my shorts and pulled them down for Karen's first look at what she had been holding when we were shoulder-deep in the water. Sitting in the passenger seat she leaned over to inspect this object that had been battering against her pubic bone and that she had held and fondled underwater. She pulled it around to inspect it all over and squeezed the shaft hard to see the tip redden from blood. I slid the seat back to give us as much room as possible.
"Okay, I know how to squeeze rhythmically and how to manipulate your balls; what else should I do?"
I explained that she should move her hand up and down the shaft so that it felt to me like it was inside her. "And spread some of this on it so it glides smoothly," I said, squirting some suntan lotion into her cupped hand.
Karen spread it over my cock and gripped my shaft again. I showed her how to stroke up and down, closing her hand over the sensitive head. "I get it!" she exclaimed. "I'm going to jerk you off. I've always wondered how that worked."
She went to the task immediately. As she stroked me I ran my hands over her breasts and ass under her loose clothes. I asked her to kiss me as she pumped my cock, which she did briefly, then said that she wanted to see my cock cum. She went back to watching. I warned her that she was about to see the fruits of her work. Then I came and came, spurting semen into the air, landing mostly in my lap but with a couple of gobs hitting her face. She flinched but held onto my cock until the eruption was finished and my cock started to soften.
I caught my breath and thanked her for an excellent and productive first hand job. I wiped the cum off her face with a Kleenex.
"Thanks; I don't think my customers would appreciate looking at gobs of your semen while they're figuring out their lunch menu."
I suggested, "Think about using your mouth next time; much less messy. And yikes! It's time for you to go; I'll be waiting for you when lunch is over."
Afternoon.
Just before two, Karen came out to the car, looking somewhat distraught. "Oh, I was so distracted, I forgot an order and had to go back, plus I dropped a tray. At least it was just had plates and silverware, not food."
I hugged her and asked what was so distracting. "It was a lot of things; let's walk along the boardwalk and I'll tell you."
"I guess it started thinking about what you said about using my mouth. Back at school we talked about sex a lot in my dorm, including about blowjobs. None of us had ever done that but I had thought about it a lot. Now remember, all the time I'm thinking this, I'm waiting on tables and trying to do my job, but this is what's running in my head. Luckily there weren't too many customers but still it distracted my attention.
Karen continued, "Okay, next I need to tell you about Kim and Claude. He's the chef in charge of the kitchen - perhaps 40, nicest guy you'll ever meet -- and Kim runs the dining hall; she's probably about 25. We all live in apartments near each other in the next town, about a ten-minute drive away. I usually take a bus or get a ride with Kim.
"About a week ago after dinner, I was waiting to catch a ride home with Kim and she told me she had to meet with Claude and the restaurant manager for a while; why didn't I sack out in the back of her car? And Claude's wife has his car so he'll ride home also after the meeting.