Some memories will stay with a man all of his life. I imagine this particular memory will be with me when I'm just another old man sitting around the courthouse on a hot summer's afternoon. I'm not there yet, but I'm splitting the difference. And this story is fairly accurate. It's not a fantasy. In writing this, it will help me to keep the memory fresh regarding something that happened twenty five years ago. Readers, thank you for sharing with me.
1978 was a year for disco. Elvis was dead. Guys wore their hair and sideburns long and girls were bra less under peasant blouses. The Love Boat was prime time. You could still get Quaaludes. Drug tests had yet to be invented. No one had heard of AIDS. The Pill was in every girl's pocketbook.
This was the era in which two of my wife's sisters and their mother had come to visit for a week. It was summer, and we lived in a small apartment just off Peachtree St. in Atlanta with no air conditioning. It was my first time to meet her sisters. I won't go into the whys of all that, it's another story.
Upon meeting Cheryl, the older of the visiting sisters, I was completely smitten with her beauty. She was in the first full bloom of womanhood, with perfect alabaster skin, chestnut hair worn shoulder length, and most of all, a big easy smile to go with her placid nature. I instantly felt at ease around her although the sexual attraction was evident as well.
The first night after they arrived, I went into the extra bedroom with the girls' make up case and some other odds and ends from the car. Cheryl was in there, making up a pallet on the floor for her and her sister to sleep on. She'd already gotten ready for bed, showering while everyone else was staying up visiting in the living room.
I came in with my arms full and she rushed over to help me unload. Her hair was wet and she had on an extra large man's T-shirt. We got the things put down and she bent over her make up case, digging for her hair dryer, while we made small talk.
As she rummaged, I looked down her oversized shirt and admired her breasts. She'd reach up to push her hair behind her ear, it seemed almost to enhance my viewing pleasure. I was lost in a world of want, looking at those perky upturned wonders. I wanted to nibble those small pink nipples as she crushed my head to her bosom. Lost in my reverie, silence intruded, and I became aware that Cheryl was no longer digging through her case. In fact she was holding her hair dryer and watching me watch her. My eye's met hers and she broke into that brilliant sunburst smile.
"I'm going to dry my hair before it frizzes up", she said. " Do you think I ought to put something on a little more decent?". The last she asked with a grin, and off she went to the bathroom.
Later, everyone was asleep. Roo, my wife gently snored from time to time. I watched the fan as it made each pass over the bed, cooling for a moment, stifling the next. A moth banged against the screen attracted to the night light.
I lay there naked under the sheet, thinking about a girl naked under a man's T-shirt. In my mind, I'd already gotten up and gone to her. In reality, my fingers were gently sliding up and down my hardness and had been for a while. My other hand cupped my now aching balls, teasing myself, the recent memory of the other room exciting me further than I needed to be. My cock was slick from want, I could glide my hand down, ever so slowly, shivering with each up stroke.
My wife rolled over on her side facing away from me. A car went down the street, briefly illuminating the room and Roo's sleeping form. I eased the sheet back from us both and cast about for a towel, feeling that familiar tingling starting.
The moth continued to flit against the screen in counterpoint to my now rapid fisting. I gazed at Roo's round ass in the dim light and thought about those perfect tits in the other room. I wanted to roll on my side and enter those dozing cheeks. My own wetness would have afforded an unfettered entry.
But my long time of self caress worked against me now. Now inevitable, I would spray, whether I touched myself or not. I could see the sheen of sweat on my chest and feel my balls hard fast against the throbbing in my hand. I was cumming! Now! In agonized silence, I fell off the edge, a delirium, a spouting, a scream in my own head, echoing on and on as my need emptied at last.
Consciousness returned, only like a cloudy dawn after a black night. I put the abused towel under the bed and glistening with sweat, fell fast asleep- at last. The moth still banged against the screen, and the floor creaked in the hall by the door.
The day began warm and humid. I awoke, needing to pee. In the kitchen I could hear coffee cups clanking and voices. The spot next to me was vacant and the sheet was neatly pulled up over my chest.
I pulled on some shorts and padded to the bathroom. It was piled high with girl mess, cleansers, cremes and brushes. The rug was rumpled up against the door. I pulled the door to as much as possible and relieved myself.
As I was about to start the shower, Lisa, the younger sister walked in with her toothbrush and rubbing her eyes. She got all the way in before realizing I was there.
"Oops, I'm sorry, I'll come back." she said, beginning to retreat.
I climbed into the stall and grinned at her confusion. She was trying very hard not to look at me. I said, "No, you're fine, I'll be washing up".
"Good, ‘cause I gotta go", and relieved, she pulled up her nightshirt, giving me a glimpse of her young mouse before she sat and peed like a kitten.
As I showered and she brushed, I could feel her eyes from time to time peering into the medicine cabinet mirror trying to penetrate the steam shrouded shower doors. Growing up without siblings, I reflected on the newness, the strangeness of suddenly having sisters.
In one way, I was an instant brother, a familiar, to be treated as such, and in another, a man, with a man's body. Such feline curiosity could prove to be trouble, especially with the latent eroticism I was already experiencing.
I was toweling off and was drying my hair blindly, when I suddenly smelled coffee. Than I felt my flaccidness engulfed, my scrotum tightened as a pair of warm soft lips enveloped me. Unwinding the towel from my head, there was Roo below me. With her free hand she waved towards the coffee cup sitting on the vanity.
She gently nibbled and sucked for a few minutes, hers eyes smiling up at me. The ritual continued a few moments, coffee and arousal mixed, until her mother's voice announcing breakfast from the kitchen ended the intimate moment much too soon.
"Can you wait, will it be all right?" She asked. I grabbed myself, but she said " Huh-uh, that's mine, let it be!" She pulled the door halfway to and as she left, she whispered, " Let's not be nude in front of my sisters, OK?".
Saturday is shopping day. Roo's mom decided to accompany her to the store as well as go see the office where my wife worked. The girls were watching TV and I went out and washed my motorcycle.
As I was finishing, the two sisters came out to visit. They were both dressed in halters and shorts. Cheryl's was the Bermuda style and loose fitting. We all sat down under the old oak by the drive. A slight breeze had come up, so rare in the summer months. It made the grass bend and sway as each gust came and went. The city is quieter on the weekends, although I could hear the constant hum of traffic up on Peachtree Street.
I pulled out my pocket knife and started playing mumbly peg as we chatted. The girls wanted to learn, so we drew up in a circle, sitting Indian style in the grass. Cheryl faced across from me, her sister to the left. I showed them how to flip the knife off their fingertips to stick into the ground.
I was watching Cheryl practice flipping the knife in front of her crossed legs. My gaze continued up her soft thighs to where her shorts began. To my happy surprise, I was able to keep gazing further north because of the looseness of the shorts. She would move to pick up the knife and afford me a view up to her white cotton panties. I could see a few stray pubes and once as she reached I saw the outline of her sex defined in the soft material.
I had to look away. My mind was already providing the infill, explicit shots of that chubby pussy, grown thick with want. Labia wet and shiny, her- I must stop. Surfacing from this rush of fantasy, my member already growing turgid and needful, I looked up to see the girls grinning at each other. How bewitching, how dangerous! A change of pace was in order.
I asked the girls if they'd like a bike ride. Lisa wanted to ride first. We donned helmets and mounted. Her small soft hands encircled my waist. Off we went, Cheryl waving to my mirror. I rode carefully, although I did have to speed up suddenly at one point to beat a light. Lisa tightened her hold, small firm tits against my back.
As we rode at a more relaxed pace on some side streets, I showed her some of the fine older homes built a century ago. We talked and giggled back and forth and her hands began to roam my sides and arms. I made her hold on properly and returned just as my wife's car pulled in with the groceries.
The day wore on and skies turned white as the blast furnace heat returned. We decided to take everyone out to Stone Mountain and play. It was fun to watch their reaction to the cable car ride up the mountain and viewing the heroes carved in bas relief gracing the northern flank. The wind was blowing steadily at the top.
Furtively, I would glance at Cheryl's figure as the breezes molded her clothes tightly to her. We walked down the mountain, collapsing at our picnic area. I was elected hot dog cook. All the women folk chattered like squirrels, passing out paper plates, talking about relatives, funny family events in the past and so on. After our lunch, the frisbee was pulled out and we played under the trees. I tried not to notice Cheryl's nearness and just focused on relaxing.
We returned well after dark, having stopped at the Varsity for dinner. It was shower stampede time, this author drawing short straw, only cold water left.
