Birds do it. Bees do it. Even educated fleas do it.

Cole Porter

No, Damnit. I don't mean falling in love. Fuck. I can't get laid. Not for lack of trying. I'm a typical perpetually horny young man. Masturbation was a better choice than death by priapism. I'm stuck between my little heads frustrated search for a zipless fuck and my big heads futile search for a story book romance with a strong earth woman mother of my children.

My little heads charging for the goal. My big heads testing each kiss against until death do us part. Not to make excuses, but I'm convinced there's some conspiracy that keeps me from having sex ... Could the problem be all inside my head? Well, maybe it just takes the right woman...

I met her one warm summer Saturday morning at the college sailing club. I was skippering one of eight boats giving introductory sailboat rides to prospective members. The boat was a Penguin, an 11 foot cat rigged hard chine dingy; or a small tippy sailboat with one sail to you landlubbers. Sail boats are expensive so we recruited a lot of club members, charged them dues, and threw outrageous parties to collect the door fees. If they never learned to sail that was OK. Meanwhile the serious sailors used the dues to maintain the boats.

I had just brought the boat up to the dock so my current suckers (read guests) could climb out. The next passenger was standing on the dock. Before she climbed into my boat, all I could see from under the sail was the bottom half of a leggy young woman in short shorts. Things are looking up, the last passengers were overweight duds.

Then she stepped aboard. She was head down, bent over ducking under the boom. I liked the eye popping view down the front of her scoop neck cotton shell. It wasn't my fault her top gapped open. I'm a guy, I couldn't help but look. All the way to her navel. Good God.

When she looked up, her long dark brown ponytail loosely shadowed her fair skinned face. I managed to get my eyes up off her chest before hers met mine. She sat on the thwart. I smiled. She smiled. The guys on the dock shoved the bow out. I trimmed the sail, we were off. "Hi, I'm Dave, What's your name?"

"Uh, Sue," her breath caught as she quickly looked around. She looked close to panic. Maybe it's because I'm lounging in the bilge aft of the centerboard trunk with my broken leg in a thigh high cast. My heel is stiffly propped against the gunwale. (That's the edge of the boat, pronounced gunnel to you landlubbers.)

The breeze is gentle, but enough to move the boat well. I head off on a reach. The boat heeled a little. Not much, just right to balance the boat. She gasped watching the lee rail gently dip toward the water. An obvious newbie. Sailboats aren't designed to sail perfectly upright.

I crab walked around on my butt to level the boat, flatter than it should be.

"It's cool, you're safe. Really, it's light air today. Believe me; I don't want to go swimming with a cast. I've been sailing for years. Today is just for fun. You can just sit right there and I'll take care of everything if you want."

She still looked panicked. The boat might be going all of three miles an hour.

"Why don't you sit over here?" I said pointing to the windward thwart.

She climbed over the center board trunk to a take a seat as I ask, "First time sailing?"

"Uh, yeah..." Her head is still on a swivel. I can almost hear her heart pound.

"It's a beautiful day. Are you interested in learning or just along for a ride?"

She took a deep breath before saying, "How about, I watch. You show me what to do." At least she's breathing. Some first timers' just plain freak.

"OK, I'll give you plenty of warning before we do anything. Pay attention and we'll stay dry." Smile.

She was real easy to look at. A few years older than me, I think. Beautiful. Way out of my league, beautiful. So far out, I just stopped thinking about her as a female and admired her beauty like I was admiring the day.

For the next half hour we sailed the reservoir. It only took moments to teach her the crew's job. While tacking the boat, I would warn, "ready about", to let her know to get ready. She then calmly waited for me to say "hard a lee" before I pushed the tiller over to the side. As the boat tacked through the wind she smoothly moved to the windward side. It wasn't really necessary. The wind was calm, but it gave her something to do. I got to look at her ass too. Yeah, I'm way that classy. Sometimes she turned my way to grace me with another fine flash of her cleavage. I tried not to overdo the tacking.

In between the sailing lessons, we talked about our interests. I'm an engineer, but I could talk enough literature, art, and nature to make polite conversation. Sue was taking bio-chemistry to build up credits as she applied to med school. Sexiest nerd I ever met.

On the dock, I could see a line waiting for their introductory ride. 'Ah, crap, ' I think to myself. 'Time to do my duty, with another bunch of newbies.' By the time we returned to the dock, she was relaxed. I didn't want Sue to leave.

As I brought the boat to the dock, luffing into the wind, one of the dock crew grabbed the forestay. I had just a moment to say. "Nice to meet you, Sue. I hope to see you at lunch, stick around for a while. Meet some of the folks, OK?"

She grinned, saying, "Yeah, I'll stay for a while, thanks for the ride," then stepped onto the dock. As my next passengers stepped aboard, I watched her walk up the dock. She was very distracting.

After the next set of passengers got their tour, I called for a lunch break. After docking the boat I crawled out with the passengers. Another club member took over as skipper, escorting still more guests on an introductory ride. As sat there on the dock, Sue came up with my crutches.

'This is my lucky day.' thought I. "Thanks," came out of my mouth.

On introductory sail days the club served hot dogs and baked beans for lunch. A left over keg of beer from last night's party helped the dogs go down. Over our lunch, I found out more about Sue. She had graduated with a business degree, then after working for a year decided to try for medical school. Her grades were good, but she needed several undergrad pre-med science courses that a business degree had not required.

I shared that I'm a mechanical engineering student, now thinking that Mech. E. isn't quite right for me. There isn't enough consideration of the importance of people or human factors in the Mech. E. coursework. I'm thinking of a switch to industrial engineering. I fogged about the part that I'm a part-time student still only a sophomore, hoping she won't notice our age difference.

She asked about my cast. "I went skydiving after finals. This is my souvenir. It was my third jump. It was great until I blew my ankle out on the landing. It was a nasty break, but the doc put it back together."

She asked, "Does it hurt?" with a look of true concern.

"It hurt for the first two weeks, not much now. I just use ibuprofen when it does. I've got another month or so in the cast. Mostly it just itches." The cast stretched my leg out straight running from top of my thigh to toe tip. My knee is locked straight and the toes point like a ballerina. It's so long I'm stuck riding sideways in the back seat of most cars. No way do I fit in a front seat, let alone drive. No wonder she looked at me weird when she got in the boat.

"It swells and hurts when it hangs low for too long. Most of the time I'm flat on my back with my leg propped up, so I'm back staying with my parents. Oh, well, so much for a summer of work to earn money. I had planned to be cutting timber."

She reached out to touch my arm as I told my story. It was a caring touch. To myself I'm thinking how glad I am crutches have made my arms strong. Mostly I'm thinking how pretty she is. How nice she is. So much fun to talk with. Truly, my lucky day.

Our conversation rambled into the afternoon. Noticing the time, I say, "Let me interrupt your thought for a moment. Though it's very nice talking with you, if we stay much longer we will get roped into clean up. I was on early set up crew so it's time to get out while the gettin's good."

"And I have a request. Obviously I can't drive like this. Can I catch a ride with you? It's on the way back to campus." Much to my amazement, she agreed. I rode in her back seat, leg propped up, watching her drive. Just as good looking and fun to talk with as before. We sat in my parents driveway with her turned backwards leaning over the seat talking for over an hour.

The next time we see each other is at a sailing club party. A series of women are decorating my cast with colored markers. Babe magnet. It almost makes the ankle worth it.

Then, there she is signing my cast. We talk for a while before she asks, "Need a ride?"

It isn't that late, but she is ready to leave. I'm not passing up her invitation.

At her car we talk before getting in. My cast makes entering the car a big production. I lean against the back door of her car. Crutches are braced under my arms; I'm hung like a puppet. She leans against me. I'm happily smashed up against her car by a very nice kiss. Hidden in the warm summer night shadows, her kiss stops time.

Then I swear she tried to crush me with her breasts. Our groins found each other's excitement. I hugged her back running my fingers through her long dark hair. Our first kisses were long and sweet, just a little tongue.

We enjoy a very long moment of embrace in the warm dark summer night. She is frustratingly sexy for a guy in a cast, going home to his parent's house. I'll accept what charity I can get. No doubt. Finally we break. She gives me another ride home. Me in the back seat. Her in the front. Bummer.

By late July my cast is off. I get back to walking on two legs. School is on hold as I'm broke and having a hard time with motivation. I've started a full time job installing burglar alarms to refill the money bag. For wheels, I got a deal on a twenty year old Cadillac DeVille gas guzzler. It's a huge plush gun boat of a car.

I met a new friend. Dale was recently discharged from the army on part disability; he's going back to school. We met at the sailing club. We talked about cars and repairs. I'd worked a summer as a mechanic and he crunched the front end of his car. I offered to help. We got along. He had space in his three bedroom townhouse in the hill-billy slums. He asked if I'd be interested in sharing the place, I said sure. It's a cheap dump, but we're fixing it up.

Dale didn't talk much about the war. I knew he had a couple of tours and made Sergeant. It was obvious, he has some serious after-burn from the war, but he won't talk about it. He says he's focused on "maintaining an even strain."

One of his old girlfriends visited. She knew him before the war. While he was out of the house, she showed me a letter he had written to her. He had been the sole survivor of an attack that wiped out his squad. Now I better understood. The ambush fucked him up, physically and mentally. While I cried over my friend's pain, she held me and told me she was happy that Dale and I were friends because I can make him laugh. I'm not worthy.

Sue and I have seen each other at sailing club events, but haven't 'dated' yet. She is that alluring older woman. Wow, four years makes a big difference in my mind. She is twenty-five compared to my twenty-one. Thoughts of, 'What can she see in me?' float through my head. Talk about lack of self esteem.

Flush with a couple of paychecks in the bank, I finally build up the spine to ask her out. Classic dinner and a movie. Yup, formal date.

We are both working, plus she is going to school full time so the big event is scheduled for Saturday.

I pick her up in my vintage Cadillac DeVille. We toke on a joint on our way to a nice Chinese restaurant. Over dinner we talk and enjoy ourselves. The movie isn't notable, by 10 pm we are back to her place. She invites me in.

Susan rents a bedroom from Linda, whose pilot husband was called up from the National Guard to fly cargo for the Air Force in the never ending war. When we get to Susan's house, Linda says "Hi," then makes herself scarce. We snuggle on the couch drinking two buck chuck. Oh, how my tastes have changed. Or is it budget related?

Susan's half of the conversation lagged as she cuddled sleepily to my side. Soon she is fully nodding off. I gently rouse her, ready to say goodnight. She asks, "Help me to bed, please." with a sleepy smile.

Wrapped in my arms, I guide her to her bedroom. Leaning onto me, she kicks off her shoes and drops her flouncy skirt. She hugs me, hung around my shoulders, kissing me warmly.

I strip back the covers, lay her on the bed, and tuck her legs into the covers.

"Take my top," she asks. I lift her shoulders to strip her shell over her head.

Her eyes close.

I caress her face saying, "Good night Sue, I'll let myself out."

Her hand reaches for me, "Wait, help me off with my bra," she asks.

My boner is fully loaded spring steel tenting my jeans. 'Bra?' I gulp before replying.

"OK," I gently roll her to expose the back catch. The bra is easily released.

Pulling it off, I see her beautiful full naked breasts for the first time.

Testimony to self control. I'm shaking as I pull the covers up and kiss her good night while stroking her hair. She is fully asleep. Beautiful. I let myself out.

The next day, she calls to ask, "Was I dreaming or did you undress me and leave?"

"It wasn't a dream, but you are a dream to me."

"Why did you leave?"

"I didn't want to presume or take advantage. You were stoned and a little drunk. Obviously falling asleep. I didn't want to ruin anything. I knew we would have other times together."

"You beautiful man." she replied.

We talked several times that week by phone. I called her, she called me.

The next weekend, I was having an open house party with my new house mate Dale. We invited a bunch of people. Sue was first on my list. Really, she's the only one I care about.

By 8 pm there are a total of five guys including me and Dale hanging out drinking beer. It looks like this party is a real bust.

Then hearing a knock, I jump up to greet the next guest.

Opening the door, I see Sue's eyes above a Cheshire cat smile. Then my gaze wanders down past a feathered choker necklace. Down to a grand canyon of cleavage pushed up high by a tightly laced suede vest. As she walks, the vest fringe sways to reveal her taut bare belly.

I'm having heart palpitations. First thoughts, 'OH MY GOD. That's hot.' Luckily my mouth is well trained, "Hi Susan. You look great! Come on in."

She steps into the room giving me a tit crushing body hug capped with a long wet lipped smooch.

Introducing her to the crew, I watch their faces. Their reactions vary from slack faced awe to wide eyed grins of appreciation.

Susan steps past me, into the room. Her pirouetting spin flips the vest fringe to show more bare skin.

I think, 'Oh Jeeze, do women take lessons and practice to be so sexy?'

As her back is turned, my gaze is released from her eyes. I get a view of what the guys have been seeing. Susan's fine butt is cased in tight suede leather hot pants so short her ass cheeks shine like new moons. Every eye follows her. I'm drooling over her shapely legs tapering to high fringed suede boots.

I watch her sashay across the room to melt Dale. Oops greet Dale. Her fine ass was wiggling on displayed to the crew. As she bends to kiss Dale, her cleavage bulged. Then she hit him with a greeting smooch to his cheek. Minus the tit hug. He was blissfully speech-less. After stunning him she stood tall and beamed as though she pegged a 10 in the Olympic sexy walk competition.

From behind I can see skin between the laces on her vest. Her narrow waist seems tiny below the vest before swelling to fill the way too hot pants. When she turns to me I can see skin all the way through the front lacing from her cleavage to her navel. And beyond.

She has my attention. She has every guy's attention. No doubt.

Ignoring everyone else, I lead her by the hand on a tour of the three bedroom townhouse. This is her first visit. The place is a turn of the last century Victorian townhouse with original ornate oak woodwork and mantels. Dale and I have wallpapered downstairs in a vintage red and gold fleur de leis pattern we call bordello red. Actually it looks classy, with matching drapes and all. We tour the first floor; living room, dining and kitchen. The guys' stares follow Susan's every move.

In the kitchen she whispers in my ear. "What's upstairs?"

"Bedrooms." I answer innocently.

"Let's go see yours" she whispers.

And we did.

Leading her by the hand, our tour continues upstairs. We first look into the small but neat back guest bedroom. Then we check out the tiny bath with claw-foot tub and soapstone vanity. Dale and I cleaned, and decorated it well beyond bachelor guy standards, but it was last fashionable in 1906. Now it's almost 'in' again. We bypass Dales closed room.

Then, suddenly she has pulled me into my bedroom. She turned to close the door, pointedly locking the deadbolt with a snick.

Stepping close to me she pulls at the knots lacing her suede vest, breathily asking, "You're good with knots, help me get out of this."

Her tightly packed vest is laced front and back like a corset, it pushes her breasts up forming attractive décolletage. I set about to loosen it from the front, far more scenic than the back. Plucking the strings I pull gently to unlace them as she frets, whining "faster, faster."

Her big brown eyes look up, pleading for speed.

Susan starts to loosen the lacing on her low cut suede leather hot-pants before I get her top untied. I'm starting to unlace the loosened ties when she impatiently pulls the silk lined vest off over her head.

Her breasts peek through her long dark hair. I'm quivering with excitement.

"Get the rest off me now. These leather pants are hot. I'm on fire."

I've switched to her shorts, the laces now loose. The leather is snug. I pull on the short legs to get the tightly tailored pants over her hips. Bending to reach the shorts my face is in her hair, brushing her breasts. The silk lined leather slides smooth on her legs. I can smell her body, the musky scent is delicious. The shorts drop over her boots. She steps out, kicking them to the corner. She stands naked save for the boots. OMG

"Don't just stand there! Strip!" She says as if out of breath.

She sits on my bed to unzip the boots. Dropping them to the floor she flops back on the bed. I falter with my own clothes, distracted.

Yeah, I'm distracted by my dream woman wriggling on my bed. Her wonderful breasts jiggle as she back crawls up the bed.

Barely able to coordinate the movement of my hands, I watch her spread her legs, pulling her toes together. Panting open mouth I manage to get the rest of my clothes off. I'm wobbling on my feet. Surely, all the blood in my body has gone to my cock.

"Now get over here" she demands.

It feels like my dick precedes me by a yard as I step across the room to her arms.