On the day after my eighteenth birthday I was working in the drugstore where I bought a box of a dozen Trojans. The druggist, Mr. Waldner, saw me checking out my own purchase and asked what I was buying while already looking in the bag. "Good idea kid. Be prepared and better to be prepared than sorry right?" He was friends with both my mom and I just prayed he didn't tell.
About a month later I was buying a third box of Trojans. When Mr. Waldner saw me he asked me how those were working for me. I told him that I guessed they worked fine but seemed short and very tight. He was a little taken aback but suggested another brand and told me that it was on the house because he had forgotten my birthday. I ran them out to my car and put the box in the glove box and one in my wallet.
Business was kind of slow that evening and I suggested I could leave. He responded, "You can, but I have a delivery, if you'd like to take care of it on the way home. It's at the "Pond House." I told him I'd be glad to. Everyone in town knew where the house was. It was built on an island in the middle of a small pond at the end of a long street. It was the only home on the street. "Just give me a minute to put a message in the bag for the customer." He was back in a second. "She's kind of lonely so please give her a few minutes to chit-chat."
It was about a five minute drive and then a one minute walk across the bridge to the home. I vaguely remembered when the home was built. Everyone snickered at the idea of putting a house on that island but when it was featured in an issue of some magazine they all shut up. It was almost all glass and cedar. I had never seen the couple who owned it other than their pictures in the paper.
I walked the bridge and rang the doorbell. The woman who answered the door opened it with a smile but when she saw me it turned into a pout. "Where is T... I mean Mr. Waldner?" I told her that he asked me to make the delivery because he was way behind on his paperwork but did have a message for her in her parcel. She invited me in while she opened her bag. She pulled out a single pill bottle and inside it was a slip of paper and nothing else. She read it and a smile slowly erupted on her face.
She had on the most sheer robe I had ever seen; even in the Sears, Wards, or Penny's catalogs I perused when my folks were gone. Hers was a pale green color that just amplified her curly, flaming red hair and her emerald eyes. Only a thin sash of the same material held it closed, and the robe did little to hide her large tits or nipples. When I say large tits, they weren't nearly as big as my friend Lolita's, but even the filtered view through the robe made me start to get hard. The sash was pulled tight and showed off her tiny waist.
"Mr. Waldner's note said "Happy Birthday and Enjoy". Do know what he meant?" I told her I didn't, but wished her a happy birthday. She continued, "Please come sit down so we can chat a bit. It gets very lonely out here, especially on your fiftieth birthday. You can call me Red." She had a bit of an accent I couldn't place, but she was fifty? I would have maybe figured her for thirty.
I told her I thought she had a husband. She lost a few tears and I apologized for being so insensitive. "He died about nine months ago. It happened one evening during a rather intimate moment and was quite sudden. I was devastated and afraid that I had caused it but I have been assured by a few doctors that it was just his time to go. At least he died with a smile on his face. Mr. Waldner has been a great comfort to me for the last six months." I was speechless. "Please come sit with me and tell me about yourself."
She led me to a long and wide settee and we sat a few feet apart but semi-facing each other. Please tell me about yourself. I gave her the mundane details of growing up in this small town and my ambitions to become a pharmacist at some point. "Do you mind if I'm a bit direct," she asked. I just shrugged. "What is your age?" I told her I was eighteen. "Are you a virgin?" That question made me blush, but I answered honestly that I wasn't. "How many girls have you fucked?" The directness of that question shocked me. I had never heard a women or girl use that word, but I told her eight. I didn't count Lolita.
"Hmm; so you're not a virgin and actually have some experience. When did you turn eighteen?" I told her it was only a month or two ago. "You're a good looking young man but how and where did you manage to find that many girls willing to fuck that fast?" I told her I worked weekends as a bartender.
"That explains it. Every woman, including myself, thinks the bartender is the best fuck in town! We're often right. Experience almost always displays itself. As she talked the knot on her flimsy robe sash started to slip. I could just see the edge of her bright pink areola. She followed my gaze and moved just enough to expose a bit more.
"Have any of your conquests been old horny women like me? I shook my head in the negative. I had a hard time taking my eyes off her tits as the knot continued to slip and she showed more. "Have you ever fucked a redhead?" I muttered no. "What have you heard about sex with a redhead?" I told her that an older friend had told me that the fire inside was just as strong as the one in their hair. "I love that! I've never heard that one!"
"Do you know how to tell if a women is a true redhead?" I told her I guessed that everything should match. She smiled and opened her robe to reveal her bright red curly bush. Her hands went down and stroked and fingered her pussy. She brought her fingers to her lips and licked them clean. I asked if I could have a taste. She looked surprised but spread her legs for me and guided my hand. I slipped my middle finger back and forth in her warm, very wet slit and licked my fingers. Her bush was more like fur.
"Come into the kitchen." I followed her and for some reason was infatuated with her swaying ass. On the counter there was a bottle of Cuervo Gold, two shot glasses, a salt shaker, and a small dish with lime slices. "Do you drink?" I told her just a bit and mostly beer. "This will put hair on your chest." She poured two generous shots, took my hand and licked the back of it before sprinkling it with a bit of salt. I followed her lead as we downed the shots together and sucked the lime and the salt from our hands. She poured two more and we repeated the process, but this time she wiped the back of both our hands on her now dripping pussy. It's a taste I still relish.
She unbuttoned my shirt and ran her fingers through the down-like hair on my chest. "See; it's already working! I have three more questions: What did Mr. Waldner mean by 'enjoy' if I wasn't deflowering a virgin? How late can you stay? And would you like to fuck me?" To answer, I got up and moved to where she was as she sat down. She reached out, unzipped, and unsnapped my jeans. My hard on spilled out on her face. She grabbed it and fairly shrieked. I told her my dad gets nervous if I'm out after three and what I was presenting to her certainly answered the last. She kissed the end of my cock, almost just as Debbie had, but dug her tongue into my pee slit. She stood and dragged me to the bedroom where she shed her robe and laid on the bed with her legs spread wide. "Fuck me with that young monster." I reached for my wallet and she told me I didn't need one. "I had that fixed years ago. Just fuck me and let me feel all that hot flesh in my cunt!"
I had already learned that patience and perseverance would eventually be rewarded. I laid on top of her with my hard cock pressed against her thigh. She groped for it but I made sure it was just out of her grasp. I kissed her mouth and unleashed my tongue as far as I could. She sucked it hard. I slid down and kissed and sucked those warm soft tits and hard hot nipples that were now brick red and throbbing. She began to beg me to fuck her and I slid up a bit and rubbed my cock head up and down her slit, paying special attention to her hard and exposed clit. She was now screaming for me to fuck her, but I slid further down and began to lick her slit from her cunt to her clit. She came almost immediately. Her climax was unlike any of the others I had experienced. If theirs had been tremors, hers was a volcanic eruption, replete with hot lava spewing out of her cunt.
