Sex With First Americans
Hi, my name is Mike. I'm now living in retirement at the age of 72. Through out my life I have had the most outstanding sex with some of the finest young girls, women and older ladies that any man could want. This is the continuing chaptered story on how I play the sex game with these many wonderful women through out my life.
These sex escapades are all very true as I actually experienced them. Of course going back as far as almost 60 years, I have taken some liberty in telling what exactly people said to each other etc. However, overall, the facts of my deeds back then are as true as I can remember them.
This is chapter 12 the tale where I tell all on how I had great sex. If you have not done so already, please read chapter 1 through 11 before starting the reading this chapter. Please begin and enjoy!
__________________________________
So there I was, out of town in Omaha, Nebraska. Both Wednesday and Thursday, I called in to June for my messages. She had a good time teasing me, telling me that if I did not get home, I might miss out on her and my Indian friends playing finger tag and the girls doing sucky-sucky on each other's pussies.
"Oh honey," she said into the phone receiver. "I am getting so hot and aroused thinking about licking that pregnant girl's cunt. Right now, I am fingering myself under my desk here in the office. I have to get off this phone and go into your office bathroom and lock the door to finish this.
"Oh, Michael, I feel like I am going to have one of my big squirting orgasms. I sure don't want to cum all over myself here under my desk. And you know how loud I am when I orgasm. Oh God, Mike, I am so close to cumming. Oh lord I can't talk anymore, I have to go. Bye."
The phone went dead with a click. I had visions of June screaming out her pleasure while running into, and across, my office. I could see her in my dirty mind. She had her hand up under her skirt and was fingering her G spot real hard, which most always caused her to shoot out a large stream of her womanly fluids. I was imagining her running across my office to my private can, spraying everything down as she went with a fire hose between those beautiful, long legs of hers.
Oh, how I wished that I were in my office right now, watching that oh-so-hot slut of mine. June had really become my lovable, private whore who so loved to diddle her pussy with her fingers. This affectionate, glorious hussy of mine, with the wonderful, squirting cunt, whose wet mouth I loved to stick my hard cock into and shoot my cum down her throat.
Of course I knew that June was bisexual. Three times now I had been party to her playing with another girl. Once down there in the Caribbean at that nude swingers resort and twice these last three years out at my place at a nude pool party with a bunch of friends. I was positive that she was making it on a regular basis with her life-long girlfriend Sally, but she never told me for sure.
Late Friday morning while flying back to the Twin Cities, I got to thinking about how I came to meet the two, hot, bi Indian maidens who were just now meeting my hot bisexual lover at the Twin Cities airport.
It happened when I was 26 years old, back in 1962 (just two years after I had started my own engineering design firm in Minnesota). My company was doing a project in Mitchell, SD, our first out-of-state job. We were doing engineering on the remodeling of a dairy and cheese plant there. A company owned by a dairy here in the twin cities.
It was very late in the hunting season, at the end of November, and I was going out to the Mitchell jobsite on business. I threw my shotgun and some hunting clothes into my car, because at the time, I had never hunted anywhere in the Dakotas before and I wanted to try their famous pheasant hunting.
I planned to buy an out-of-state license and do a little bird hunting while I was there. I wanted to experience some of South Dakota's unique road hunting in the four or five days I was to be there. I soon found that I had not brought along enough warm clothes. However, because of my lack of warm gear, I had the most outstanding sexual experience.
In South Dakota, you could then, and still today, hunt from your car and have a loaded uncased gun in the car. Not like in Minnesota and most elsewhere, where your firearms have to be unloaded, emptied, and in a gun case.
After I was done at the jobsite, around 2 o'clock every afternoon I would go out into the country and road hunt ring-necks. You see, the birds come out to the gravel road to get grit for their crops in the late afternoon and before dark. On the fourth day, the weather turned nasty and it started to snow heavily and the wind began to blow. I went hunting anyway. Foolish, I know, but back then I was still young and dumb.
The week before I first went out there to eastern South Dakota, they had already had a blizzard and acquired about two feet of snow. So on this third day of road hunting, it started to snow and blow again while I was out in the backcountry's gravel roads. It started to really snow hard and became a white out. I missed a turn, went into a ditch and snow bank, and got stuck.
Of course, I couldn't get out, so I just sat there with the car running and the heater on and in the snow bank and waited for someone to come along and help me. No one did and it got later and later, slowly growing dark. Throughout the late afternoon during breaks in the storm, I could see a big farm about three quarters of a mile down the road.
Because it was getting so late, I had to get some help. I decided to strike out for the farm I saw in the distance. Since hunting had been somewhat of an after thought to my SD business trip, I did not have anything resembling the proper cold weather clothes, not even long underwear, just a light hunting jacket, boots, and a sweatshirt.
The snow coming down was wet and heavy that day, and it was quite cold, maybe only 20 degrees. By the time I got to the farmhouse, I was soaking wet and so cold that I could barely speak. Well, this tall young lady, only about 18 or 19 years old, answered the door and I told her of my dilemma through chattering teeth. She let me into the kitchen and handed me some hot coffee.
Another girl, which looked just like the first but with a different hairstyle and different colored clothes, joined us. The both had on tight jeans and men's western-flannel shirts. They said that their names were Nancy and Sue. And when I asked, I found out that they were identical twins.
They looked Indian, but had such handsome facial features that I hadn't seen on most of the Indians I knew or had seen, so I wasn't sure. They both were big girls, and I mean big boned not overly fat, two inches taller than me at about six four. They had broad, cute womanly rear ends that they showed so well in the tight jeans. They both had identical huge breasts of at least forty inches and had jet black hair.
The girl that met me at the door, Sue, had her hair done up in two long pigtails that hung down to her waist. Nancy had her hair cut in a classic Dutch Boy with bangs on her forehead.
They had big broad smile with perfect, very white teeth, high cheekbones, pert little noses, and big, dark, black colored eyes. Their somewhat impish faces added a girlish cuteness to them, too.
These two young girls were corn-fed farm gals, who I later found out were half-breeds. They had an Irish mother and a full-blooded Sioux father. He had been from the Standing Rock Indian Reservation up on the North Dakota border. Their dad had apparently left the reservation and made it big as a farmer and cattle feeder.
I was on the second cup of steaming coffee and we three kept on talking. I found out that the girls had just graduated from high school this last spring. Neither was married but one was serious with a guy and was talking about getting engaged.
No one else seemed to be home at the time with these two twins. I had yet to see any parents or siblings about. In addition, I noted that the kitchen table was only set for two. When I first walked up their driveway from the county road, I noticed that there were two big trailer houses, one double wide and the other just single wide, parked out be behind the main house with pick-up trucks and cars in front of them.
There was a huge barn, several large out-buildings, three very big, blue silos, and ten or more round, galvanized, corrugated metal corn bins in the farmyard. I saw four tractors and various other farm machines scattered throughout the farmyard. They had a huge feed lot alongside the barn with a big herd of over a hundred mooing Hereford cattle in it.
The main house, which was two stories, had two more pick-ups and two cars parked by its side door. Both of the cars were new Oldsmobile convertibles, a red and yellow one. This was no small farming operation; there was money here.
The two girls thought that I should stay the night; in fact, they insisted that I do so. They both agreed to that, because the blizzard was still in full swing and if it cleared up in the morning, they would get one of their hired men to shovel me out and pull my car out with a tractor. Besides, they said I might not get back to Mitchell in this storm, and I'd only end back up in a ditch somewhere else.
"We were just about ready to sit down to dinner. We would be so happy if you would join us, Michael," Nancy said to me.
Sue spoke up, "But first we have to get you out of those wet clothes. Come with me; I'll show you the spare bedroom."
As I followed her, Sue said, "Take off your wet clothes, and strip down to your underwear. I will get my father's bathrobe for you to wear while your things are in the dryer." And she left the room.
In those early days of my life I was just young enough to be somewhat embarrassed to take off my clothes in front of a strange woman. But what the hell, I thought. I had stripped for and beat my meat for unknown young girls' sorority parties in my college years several years ago with no reservation. I was all the way down to my jockey shorts and my t-shirt, sitting on the edge of the bed when she came back.
Sue said, "This was my dad's robe before he passed away four years ago. He was as big and broad shouldered as you are and maybe even taller than you. But it should fit." She rested a hand on my t-shirt and then dropped it to my ass cheek, feeling the material and said, "This will never do, Michael. You are soaked clean through. Your underwear is wet too." With that statement, she started to pull my t-shirt over my head.
Sue stood back at arms length and said, "Oh my, Michael, you really have nice, big, broad shoulders and muscular arms. And look at those tight abs. Do you work out in a gym, city man?"
