Athy's Choice

Saturday, March 23, 2019:

My first thought was an ironic one. I remembered back to Josh, one of the guys in my sophomore dorm, saying what a rush it was when he was sitting at a table in the cafeteria with two girls both of whom he'd fucked. Neither one had known that he'd slept with the other - at least, he didn't think they did - but it was an awesome rush for him to know he had.

But, for me, seeing my husband Jack, sitting at our dining room table with Nick Jeffries, knowing that I had slept with them both, well it was a surge of emotion, sure enough, but an awesome rush it most certainly was not.

And, OK, I hadn't exactly slept with

slept

with Nick. I had been fucked by him, fucked to high heavens, but sleep was never a part of it.

Sunday, the Fourth of July, 2004:

It was kind of amazing that we'd gotten in, 'cause Sandy Hook National Seashore closes to entrants when the parking lots at the beaches get too full, but we'd gotten there early to head to Gunnison Beach, the "G" beach, and the only officially nude one there. My friends and I, all coeds from Rutgers, loved the nude beach, working on our all-over tans and teasing the guys. There were six of us, all athletes, and we hung together all the time.

We were kind of a mismatched lot. Meghan, Jane, Karen and Dana were all on the gymnastic team, and like successful gymnasts everywhere, they were all munchkins, 5'1 or 5'2. Eve-Marie had started in gymnastics when she was a kid, but grew to 5'7, and switched to swimming and diving; now she was a diver on Rutgers team.

But me? I really stood out, 'cause I was a volleyballer, and I stood a full 6'2" - not 6'1½, and not 6'1¾, but 6'2 - so we were an interesting looking gaggle when together.

The gymnasts, well, they all had the typical gymnast body: short, no tits, but powerful hips and legs, legs thicker than most girls would want, but theirs were all well-defined by muscle, and no one would ever think they were fat. Eva-Marie was the only one of us who had anything that could actually be called boobs. She was the prettiest of us, a brunette who actually got the summer blonde streaks from the sun rather than Miss Clairol, and these deep brown eyes. Me? I was built like a volleyballer: tall, thin, and an A-cup on top. And if Eva-Marie was the prettiest, the rest of us weren't exactly chopped liver, and we all had boyfriends, at least they were boyfriends when the university was in session. They were all back home during the summer sessions at Rutgers.

Getting to Sandy Hook early enough meant, even at he first part of July, t-shirts to keep the cooler morning breezes at bay, at least until we got to the beach itself and stripped down. The sun promised to be bright and hot, but there was a wind out of the north, and that tended to be cooler and, if it blew too hard, could carry some sand with it and make the beach less fun. We had the right set-up, though, a long windscreen, which stood three feet tall, which we could set into the sand. Set it to our left as we faced the water, and it protected from the northerly winds.

All being jocks, we had a lot of Rutgers gear; every one of us was wearing a Rutgers t-shirt, cropped ones since short crop tops were in, in, in this year. "Whale tails" were in, too, showing off our thongs over low-rise jeans, but only Karen had bothered with panties for a beach trip; I had my long-sleeved cropped t-shirt and a pair of denim short-shorts on, and that was it, except for flip-flops.

And Rutgers beach towels, too, thrown on top of a couple of king-sized sheets.

It was all the Rutgers gear which attracted Nick Jeffries, or at least it was his opening. We'd gotten settled in, with a spot closest to the water, just before the beach drops off at the high tide line, with all of that scarlet and white gear, but, by then, six naked bodies, all glistening with suntan oil.

"You guys go to Rutgers?" he asked, as he walked up. "I'm there, too."

Well, we hadn't actually gone to the beach looking to pick up guys, but this guy was definitely worth talking to. He had hard muscles, with some real definition, from head to toe, and the prominent veins pushed to the surface by constant weight-lifting. He was tall and solidly built, and it was obvious that this wasn't his first time at a nude beach either, 'cause he was tanned from head-to-toe.

But the real thing that stood out was his cock. Nick was a 'shower, not a grower,' with his cock a solid seven inches even though it wasn't hard.

We didn't exactly invite Nick to sit with us, but he did anyway, and really, we had plenty to talk about without it being all about being naked. It turned out that he was a jock too, a linebacker on the football team, and he was in summer session to pad his grade point average. His GPA was in no danger of being too low, he said, but studying is a lot harder during the season, so he takes the minimum number of hours to stay full-time during the fall, and then goes harder in classes during the spring and does the summer term as well.

Well, Nick didn't know us, but we knew him, not personally, but by reputation. No, not his rep on the football field, where he wasn't a starter but the first substitute on the outside on passing downs. No, it was his reputation in the sack that preceded him. He'd nailed a couple of freshman girls as soon as school opened his freshman year, and they had talked, talked a lot, about what a sex god he was. Maybe the stories had grown some during the telling, but the rumor was that he was packing eight inches when hard, and he knew how to use it; a lot of girls said he should be a porn star.

And when I say a lot of girls, I mean a

lot

of girls. Nick wasn't boyfriend material, not by any means, 'cause he was always looking for the next piece of pussy, and by the end of his sophomore year, which was last spring, he had supposedly fucked over a hundred girls, but most of them only a time or two. Hell, there was practically a waiting list to get into Nick's pants, including a lot of girls who had steady boyfriends. Heck, there were even stories that the gay guys wanted Nick to fuck them, but he made it clear to the first couple who propositioned him that he did not swing that way. He hadn't hit any of them, but when you stand 6'6 and weight 245 lb, your 'No!' pretty much means no.

So, here we all were, meeting the campus sex god, and all of us were stark naked. I was only a little less naked than the others, 'cause I was the only one who hadn't shaved my pussy bald.

Was that it? Like I said, I wasn't the prettiest of us, but I hardly caused clocks to stop, either. I was way taller than most girls, though still shorter than Nick, but I thought that maybe, just slightly, he was paying a bit more attention to me than the rest of us.

We'd been gabbing for maybe an hour when Nick got up to go get his stuff, which was several towels away. "He's after you, Kathy! You going to take him on?"

"Karen! What, you think I'm going to just fuck him right on the beach? No way!"

But I did fuck him right on the beach.

We'd been in and out of the water several times, and when we all needed to re-sunscreen, Nick was always right there to do my back. Damn, that man knew what he was doing.

We got lunch on the beach, from this hamburger-and-hot dog vendor who set up shop right on the beach. It must be interesting to have a job in which hundreds of naked people walk up to you for food!

At any rate, after we'd had our food, Nick asked me to take a walk down the beach with him. In a way, I felt it was wrong, being picked out of the whole group, but the others just had big smiles and told me to go. So, Nick stood up, grabbed my hands and pulled me to my feet. I'd never said yes, but I hadn't said no, either.

One thing about Gunnison: the official beach isn't that long, but there is more than a mile of beach to the south of the "End of Guarded Beach" sign, and people take their 'walks' down that way. There's a gay section of the nude beach that clusters around that sign, but soon enough we were south of that, away from people's towels, walking and talking, when Nick took my hand.

Yeah, I knew where this was going, but Nick was subtle about it. I guess that was his seduction technique: just being pleasant and attentive, without being pushy, just the right amount to have a girl wondering, is he going to try to get in my pants - not that I was wearing any! - or not? Whatever it is, it has the girl, the girls, really, getting antsy with anticipation, and girls have already decided that yes, they're going to fuck him, they want to fuck him, before he ever makes his move.

We'd walked the better part of a mile south, to where the crowded beach was only a blur in the distance, and the couples taking walks down the beach had dwindled to a distant few. We'd laughed and splashed around and walked, when Nick took my hand and pulled me further away from the water, up toward this downed tree which lay near the dune line. It must've been there for years, because all of the bark had weathered away. Standing there, he kissed me.

And kissed me.

And kissed me.

I had never said 'yes,' but I had never said 'no,' either, and let's face it, by this point I wasn't going to say no. Nick was fully hard now, and what had been an impressive seven inches soft was now a raging eight inches, sticking straight out, and if not exactly a tall boy beer can, it looked pretty thick, bigger than I had ever had.

When Nick turned me around, there was no resistance in me. When he gently pushed me to kneel on the downed log, I did it naturally. And when he got behind me, and pushed his cock into my pussy, I was so soaking wet that he slid in, all the way, in one smooth stroke.

It was kind of difficult, actually, as there wasn't a good place to put my hands and brace myself with my arms, but Nick took care of that quickly enough, reaching down, taking my arms, and pulling them behind my back. He was pulling me backward into him, and I was being just savagely fucked, fucked like I had never been fucked before.

I came like a freight train, amazingly quickly, and then I came again, when Nick pulled me back even further. My knees came off the trunk, and I was standing, with Nick still behind me, fucking me like a machine. I'm so tall that I never thought of any guy ever doing this to me, but Nick was tall enough himself to make it work, and I came again, hard, with a voiceless scream.

Did Nick cum? I thought he had, but when he pulled out of me, his cock was still rock hard. "Put your arms around my neck," he whispered, and I did. With that, he reached down, grabbed my ass, and picked me up. Taking his left hand off my butt, he reached down, grabbed his cock, and guided it back into me. He was fucking me, himself standing up, and me hanging on around his neck, his hands holding my ass up, and my legs wrapped around his muscular ass.

This was just so fucking hot, I came again, and another time as well, before Nick finally got a grimace, almost as though he was in pain, and came deep inside of me, holding his body rigid as an iron bar, as his urge to push his seed as deeply into me as possible took over.

I was totally spent when Nick finally put me down. I wanted to tell him how awesome that had been, but I was just breathless, and couldn't get the words out. He kissed me gently, and had the most amazing smile on his face.

The girls knew what had happened when we finally got back to the towels. Hell, anybody who looked knew what had happened, as I just know I had a freshly fucked look on my face, and I could feel Nick's semen running down the inside of my right leg. Walking back north, it would be the inside of my right leg which was more visible to the crowds on the beach. Everybody could tell that I had just been fucked, and with this giant of a man walking beside me, holding my hand, I could even feel a weird sort of pride, that everyone could see that I got to fuck him, and they didn't.

Saturday, March 23, 2019:

"Hey, Kath, I'm glad you're back," Jack said. "I've got someone I want you to meet. This is Nick Jeffries, and his company is going to be doing some public relations and advertising for us."

It was a good thing I had an armload of groceries! That gave me time to say, "Pleased to meet you," and then turn to put them down on the kitchen counter before shaking his hand. I managed to compose myself enough to do the pleasantries and morph into Perfect Hostess mode.

"Nice to meet you as well. Do you have more groceries to bring in," Nick offered. He was just as suave as he had been back in college.

"Yeah, a whole trunk full. Thanks."

It was a great break, one which allowed me to collect my thoughts. The grocery bags were the plastic ones, with loop handles, and Nick, Jack and I went back out to get them. Nick looped maybe nine bags onto his forearm to carry a bunch in at once, and Jack managed to grab all of the rest save for a 16 lb bag of cat food. I grabbed that, closed the trunk, and we all headed back in.

It was perfectly casual, Nick helping to put away groceries with Jack and me. A lot was obvious, as we had a sizable pantry that Jack had built, and it was easy for Nick to see where things went. I put away most of the refrigerator stuff myself. By the time that was done, I was able to say in perfect tones, "Coffee, Nick, or something to eat?"

We wound up with simple sandwiches, pastrami on rye, with mayo and sauerkraut. In the back of my mind, I thought that such would funk up my breath enough that Nick would never think about kissing me if Jack wasn't looking.

Jack wasn't a virgin when we met, and I certainly wasn't, either. It was one of those deals, we both knew that each had had lovers in the past, but other than acknowledge them, we didn't really talk about it. I knew that he'd lived with a girl named Marcie while he was at Columbia, but I'd never seen a picture of her, didn't remember her last name - Jack had told me, but I forgot - and really didn't know much about her. Jack knew that I'd had boyfriends, and was kind of surprised about my casual attitude to nudity, but I told him that it was natural: as an athlete, I had spent every day of my life showering and changing in front of other people. It just wasn't that big of a deal to me.

Me winding up with Jack was a bit of a surprise, because, at 5'11, he was three inches shorter than me. That was one thing about being as tall as I am: a lot of guys were intimidated, or didn't want to be seen with a girl taller than them, but Jack wasn't intimidated at all. He was strong, and a bit on the barrel-chested side, certainly a strong, masculine man. A few of the women I knew offered to trade husbands with me, something always said jokingly, but I always felt that if I'd agree, they'd agree.

I'd met Jack at Fordham Law School. We were both third years at the time, but we didn't get together then. Hell, law students don't have much time for anything other than studying. No, we got together when I was working in the District Attorney's office in the Bronx, while he was working for a small criminal law firm. I was second seat in a trial of a particularly nasty drug dealer, and Jack was his defense attorney. Jack did as well as humanly possible, but the best he could do was set things up so that the judge didn't give his client the max, because his client had left DNA, fingerprints, and ripped clothing at the crime scene which finally got him busted. Sentencing wasn't finished until 4:30, and Jack asked me out for dinner, to reminisce about old times.

I didn't fall into bed with Jack that evening, but his quiet strength impressed me. He was funny and attentive and yes, he was flirting, but subtly so, enough that I could tell without being overbearing or offensive. By the end of dinner we'd agreed to go out again.

It had been the summer of 2015, and Jack and I had a couple of typical New York City dates, when he asked me if I'd like to go to he beach. That was when I surprised him with my attitude about nudity. He was thinking about someplace like Rockaway, when I told him about Gunnison. We hadn't had sex yet, so the idea of him seeing me naked certainly piqued his interest, so we went.

Things had changed at Gunnison. The on-the-beach vendor was gone, replaced by a food stand up by the bathhouses, someplace you had to get dressed to go to. There was more concern about preserving the dunes, and the park rangers really didn't want people walking south past the guarded beach area. But it was still hot and wild and sexy, and Jack was entranced by puffy pink nipples; I knew he would be. We couldn't fuck on the beach the way I had eleven years earlier, but I knew that this was going to be the day Jack and I finally did it.

The are some good seafood restaurants in Highland, the town you wind up in when you leave Sandy Hook, and I knew where one was. We sat outside, had great food, and talked. I knew that Jack wanted to broach the subject of sex, because what man wouldn't he horny after seeing his girlfriend - I guess I was his girlfriend by then - naked in the sunshine, but he was a little bit shy on how to break the subject, so I did. I told him to take me to his house and take me to bed.

Jack turned out to be pretty decent in bed. He'd certainly learned how to eat pussy really well on someone, and he put that expertise to work on me. I was horny, too, and ready, and came quickly from his wonderful tongue and fingers, before I went down on him. He loved that, but it was obvious: he was far less interested in getting a blow job than he was in actually fucking me.

And it was pretty good. Jack was an average six inches, but above average in skill, and he was able to get me off again with a combination of changing speeds and a rolling motion that pressed his pubic bone against my clit.

But he wasn't Nick. Then again, no one is like Nick. I had a few boyfriends at Rutgers, and they ran the gamut from average to pretty good, but no one came close to Nick. I'd gotten Nick to fuck me four more times at school, probably as many repeat performances as any girl got from him, and it was always toe-curlingly sensational. My friends had pressed me on how he was, and everyone of them but Eva-Marie, the prettiest of us all, had taken a turn with him. It was interesting to hear all 5'1 of Karen telling me what it was like to fuck a guy a foot and a half taller than her.

I guess that's one of the things guys worry about: what if their wives or girlfriends ever fucked someone who was sensationally good, sensationally better than them? And, of course, bigger than them? Would we spend our time in bed with our boyfriends fantasizing about someone better?

Well, yeah, we do . . . sometimes. Not all the time, mind you, but definitely some of the time. I didn't fantasize about Nick the first time I slept with Jack, because Jack was into me and I was really into Jack.

But the most important thing was that I woke up with Jack that next morning. That was different. I'd had several boyfriends, but here I was, 31 years old, and this was the first morning I had ever woken up with a man. Every other time I'd gotten laid, either I had to get up and head back home, or he did. Sex, to me, had been find a place, fuck, and then leave. This time, I didn't leave.

There was something special about that, something I still can't define, but waking up next to Jack made everything just better. I moved in the next weekend - he had a better apartment than I did - and we were married just before Christmas.

I had never cheated on Jack, and things were going well. Three and a half years into marriage, we had started talking about kids. Since I still worked for the District Attorney, and New York state has a lot of career protections for pregnant employees, it shouldn't be an issue.