Part 1: The Contract
This story takes place in 1976 before there were cell phones and personal computers.
I have based this story on one of Jean's diaries that I recently found hidden in our basement. Some of her entries are too fantastical to believe, but everything I have personal knowledge of is accurate if you allow for a difference of opinion. I'll let you be the judge
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Chapter 1
"Cut it out, Steve! I don't want to be late for my flight." I slapped his hands away from my flirty summer dress. I was still nervous about flying and was anxious to arrive at the airport early to avoid the host of delays that my paranoia anticipated.
Steve ignored my plea and continued to unbutton my dress as fast as I buttoned it.
Steve laughed and said, "We have plenty of time for a quickie. It only takes a half hour to get to the San Jose Airport. If we leave now, you'll only end up waiting in the lounge for an hour and a half."
"Steve, be careful. It's an old dress, and you'll rip off the buttons."
"Well then, just take off the dress. I promise I'll be fast. It's a long time until next summer, and I need you one last time. I also imagine my sweet little nymphomaniac could use a quick fuck to relax her."
I tried to ignore my boyfriend's sexist remark. Somehow men who have a high sex drive are studs or Casanovas while women are described as sluts, whores, nymphomaniacs or to use an old term hysterical. Steve's sex drive was every bit as strong as mine, and I resented the implication that there was something wrong with me. I chose to ignore his unintended insult because I needed a good fucking from the man I had thought I had lost forever when I went to law school while he took a job in a California research laboratory.
Steve had arranged to take a vacation and paid to fly me out after my first year at Temple Law School was over. We had been fucking like mink for the last two weeks. I knew exactly how many times we had had sex because Steve was a nerdy scientist and had put a tick mark on the calendar for each time we did it. At first, we started out at a slow pace and only fucked three or four times a day. Now, the calendar had six or seven tick marks on each day. This last encounter would bring us to seventy-nine times in fifteen days. It still didn't feel like enough to last through my second year at Temple.
I sent my horny boyfriend a copy of 'Joy of Sex' for Christmas, and now that I was here he wanted to try every position in the two volumes. He made a rule that we weren't allowed to repeat a position unless we were in a new location. We fucked late at night in the apartment pool several times as well as the hot tub. Another night, we did it on the lawn outside our unit as well as in the courtyard gazebo. We had even done it in the common laundry room with me sitting on a shaking dryer. We had found places along the hiking trails to Mount Diablo and Mount Tamalpais, around Angel Island and Point Reyes. We had been caught a couple of times which only seemed to add to the excitement. I was afraid I was in danger of becoming an exhibitionist despite my strict upbringing.
Somehow, we had also managed to swim laps in the apartment pool most days and go for several hikes around the Bay Area. Our only other major activity was gorging ourselves on the local cuisine. I had lost fifteen pounds at law school, and Steve was determined to put some meat on my bones. With all the exercise, I had only managed to regain eight pounds, but most of the added weight was in my boobs and dancer's ass. Steve was thrilled I had regained most of my curves.
Normally, I wear jeans or shorts in the summer with a tee shirt. For my flight to Los Angeles, I had picked out a lightweight sleeveless summer dress with large buttons down the front. Even with my mother's aid, I could barely afford law school and had gone searching for useable clothes in my mother's attic. I hadn't worn the dress since early in high school before I developed boobs. With all the weight, I had lost in law school, the dress fit once again. It was a little tight across my ample breasts. The lower part flared from my trim waist and provided my curvaceous hips a little room. The dress was decorated with a pastel print of flowers and fruit. It was so thin, you could see my pink areolas if you knew where to look among the flowers. In case you are wondering about the lack of a bra, my generous but firm breasts have been bare ever since I became aware of the Women's Liberation Movement.
One of the reasons, I had chosen this suggestive dress was because I wanted to leave a strong image in Steve's head of our last hours together. I didn't want to leave any doubt in his mind that he desired my return next summer. As I thought about it, I realized Steve was right. What better way to leave a lasting impression than to have a quickie.
I surrendered. "Ok, give me a second to take off the dress."
I carefully laid the dress on the bed and started to turn around. Steve's eager hands gripped my hips and guided me toward the front of a stuffed chair. He pushed me over at the waist, and I grabbed the armrests for support. Before I could protest, he ripped my bikini panties down my thighs.
I spread my legs and said, "Steve, we don't have time for foreplay. I'm already wet; just stick it in and go."
I moaned as he eagerly followed my request. His cock plunged into the depths of my moist vagina. God, I loved his cock; it was somewhat above average and a perfect fit for my tight pussy. Sensing my impatience, he wasted no time in setting up a pounding pace. I pushed my hips back to meet his thrusts. After a couple of powerful lunges, Steve realized he didn't need his hands on my hips to support me. He slid one hand up my torso to grasp one of my jiggling breasts. His fingers grabbed my nipple and rolled it between his fingers. His other hand slid along the outside of my pussy lips.
"No time for teasing. Just go for my clit and fuck me harder."
I had trained Steve well. When we first met, he had no concept of the female orgasm or even much about the female anatomy. Early in our relationship, I had given him a detailed seminar. I had laid on my back with my legs spread wide. I directed him to get close with his head between my thighs. I could feel his breath on my wet pussy as I pointed out the visible parts of the vulva. After explaining the female anatomy, I proceeded to thrust one finger into my vagina while rubbing my clit until I orgasmed. After resting a couple of minutes, I directed him in a hands-on demonstration. He was ecstatic when he succeeded in bringing me to a warm orgasm with just his fingers. Next, I gave a lesson on using his tongue. Since my lecture, Steve's competence in bed has soared.
Steve's fingers found my clit, and I screamed at the abruptness of the intense stimulation. I know I had told him to go right for it, but even so, I wasn't ready for him to touch my clit. I was caught by surprise as I orgasmed hard. My vagina squeezed Steve's cock, and I heard him grunt. I thought he was through, but after a short pause for me to recover, he began thrusting again.