Cold didn’t begin to describe how I felt and I had no one to blame but myself. I paddled harder. The water temperature was probably down around 55 and there was a light breeze from the north chilling me even more. I’d been out for nearly two hours knocking out ten miles in a last-of-the-season effort. Hard paddling had warmed me up, a little. Except for my feet. Nothing was going to thaw out my popsicle toes except a warm shower. I looked for the tall two-story house that signaled I was almost home. I’d been drifting closer to shore without thinking about it and hit some chop driving water up into my face. Rookie mistake that nearly started my teeth chattering. I felt pathetic. I started watching the beach for locals, hoping I wouldn’t see anyone I knew. The beach was almost deserted, even at 10AM. It just wasn’t a beach day and even the shell collectors had stayed indoors.
With a quarter mile to go, I started shuffling my feet, trying to pump blood back into them. You can’t shuffle too much or you’ll end up in the drink. I pushed the limit, stomping first my right then left foot, sending tingles through them. “We’re not quite dead yet,” they screamed at me. As I started my final approach toward 28th street it began to drizzle. Perfect. On the good side, no one would see the idiot, Danny January, paddling around the day before Thanksgiving.
At least that’s what I thought.
I stepped off my board into shallow water. Little waves lapped at my ankles as I scooped it up and tucked it under my arm. Racing boards are thinner, lighter and easier to carry than beginner or fun boards. No beginner boards out that day. I hunched my shoulders into the wind and started the cold trek up toward the boardwalk and home.
At the end of the boardwalk, a faded red hoodie watched and waited. Gray baggie sweatpants and Converse All-stars covered most of the watcher but I could still see her face. A widow’s peak of dark brown hair, big brown eyes and cupid’s bow smile peaked out at me.
“You’re crazy,” Kayla hollered over the breeze. She turned back toward Palm Boulevard and waved to someone I couldn’t see then walked down to the sand to greet me.
I covered the distance a little faster, ignoring the tingles in my feet as feeling tried to creep back in. I willed myself not to shiver, channeling my inner Zen master to no avail.
“You’re turning blue. What can I do? Can I carry something?” she offered with genuine concern.
“I have it. Just the board and paddle and they aren’t heavy.” We were the only two people on the beach and yet I felt like there were curious eyes on us. My 15-year-old first cousin twice removed and I had shared more than your typical cousins had and I was feeling a little paranoid being seen with my underage lover on my own turf. It washed over me slowly that no one would know she was my cousin, that she was 15 or that we were lovers if didn’t tell them. I knew that, but somehow the feeling of paranoia wasn’t going to leave easily.
“How did you know where to find me,” I asked, straightening my posture a bit and starting up the steps, the tingling in my feet turning to sharp stabs as I climbed. I picked up the pace, now anxious to get home and indoors.
“I have your address. There was no one home but your car was still there. I pretty much knew where to look.”
“You didn’t drive though. You’re still 15.”
“Don’t remind me. My friend, Tiff, was coming down to visit friends and she dropped me off.”
“That’s who you waved to.”
“She wasn’t going to leave me alone on the beach. Her friends live at faulty beach and as soon as she knew I was okay, she left.”
“Folly Beach, not faulty beach, although I kind of like that. Let me put my board away.” We walked together up to Franco’s house and put my board back behind his racing board, then stacked my paddle in a rack with five or six others. I grabbed the oversized beach towel I’d hung over the railing and wrapped it around my shoulders. It didn’t do much to warm me but it was better than nothing.
“Whose house is this? Yours is on the next block, right? The little blue one?”
“Lots of questions this morning. You must have gotten an early start. Been drinking coffee the whole way? You’re wired.”
“No, yes, some of it. Whose house is that?”
“It belongs to a friend. That’s my catamaran too,” I said pointing back at a Hobie 16. “Franco lets me park my boat and board at his house because I don’t have the room. He uses the cat when he wants. He has his own boards.”
We reached my house and Kayla grabbed her bag from the porch. My frozen fingers stabbed at the numbers on the keypad and we heard the click of access on the second try and entered my little refuge of blessed warmth. Out of the drizzle and wind, made a lot of difference but I needed a hot shower.
“Does your mom know you’re here? Call her and let her know you’re here safely, okay? I need to take a hot shower and warm up and we’ll get caught up.” Out of the cold wasn’t the same as warming up and I still chattered my words.
She pulled her red hoodie off, revealing a tight-fitting gray ribbed sports top that hugged her breasts and showed off her well-toned belly. She looked better than ever.
“I already called.” She saw me staring. “You like? I just got it. Pumpt Sportswear.”
“I like it, but I like what’s in it more. Damn, girl. You don’t wear that in public, do you? You could cause a riot. Let me get warmed up.”
“I can help you with that,” she offered. It was what she came to Charleston for.
“Gradual heat is better. I’m afraid you’d scald me. Besides, I think my wiener shriveled up from the cold. It might be gone altogether.”
“In it’s present state, that seems appropriate.”
I left her to her own devices and went through my bedroom to the bath and turned on the hot water. I doubted I could get the water as hot as Kayla. Wow. At only 15 she could easily pass for 21 or 22 and what’s more, she acted like it. With her mom’s permission, I’d introduced her to the wonderful world of love and she had made me feel 10 years younger. Too hot for her own good, her mom, Amanda, chose to keep her from some pimple faced teen that just wanted to get his rocks off. It seemed crazy at the time but I hadn’t protested too much and had no complaints about the education program since then.
I stepped into my oversized shower and let warm water do its magic. I turned my back to the spray and leaned my head against the far wall. Every few moments I turned the heat up a notch. Eventually, I would get my body heat up to something resembling normal. Kayla could take it the rest of the way. I considered my joyfully ridiculous relationship. Kayla’s mother, Amanda, my first cousin once removed, and I had serendipitously found ourselves entangled much more closely than is normal for cousins. After a couple of weeks of highly enjoyable extra-curricular activities Kayla guessed what was going on and with teenage horny logic, convinced her mom that sex with me was in her best interest. I’m not getting married until I finish medical school and there’s no way I’m going to abstain until I’m 28. So, it’s either safe sex with someone who can teach me and enjoy it without all the drama or sex with some high school kid.
She knew her daughter would soon experiment and she preferred the safety and maturity I brought to it. It was an unusual relationship but somehow didn’t seem so strange after the fact. At least if you didn’t think about it too much. Kayla might have been young but she was also beautiful, athletic and a very enthusiastic lover. What more could a guy ask for? The problem was that I had become far too emotionally attached to someone I shouldn’t have. Enjoy it now, knowing she would soon find her lifelong partner and this would be a nice memory. My fear was that she was getting too emotionally attached to her much older cousin, something I didn’t want to happen. The sex was great as long as there wasn’t a lot of drama to go with it, and I didn’t get arrested.
I got out before all the hot water was used up and tried to shave, looking vainly at a heavily misted mirror. Finally, warm, clean and dry, I was about to leave the bathroom, half expecting Kayla to already be in bed waiting I decided to check with her mom. My phone was on the counter so I texted her:
“Kayla here. Anything I should know”
I waited a few moments, knowing how quickly Amanda typically returned text messages. We’d done a lot of that the last three months. Texting rather than talking keeps the emotions in check a little.
“You know why she’s there. I’m jealous. Have fun.”
“I know why she’s here. A little warning next time.”
“She’s been driving me crazy. Wear her out. Seriously. I want her to come home sore. Maybe she’ll settle down a little. I have her bedroom windows open to let the excess pheromones escape.”
I laughed at that and a moment later I got another text. “No warning. Next time it will be me. I need to be worn out too.”
“I’ll come up soon,” I promised and then realized what I had typed. She sent a smiley emoji back.
Talk about a green light. I had to ask myself why I hadn’t gone to Asheville for the long weekend but it was a little late for that. I wrapped a towel around my waist to maintain at least some modicum of modesty. Stepping into the bedroom I was surprised to be alone. I threw on shorts and a t-shirt, checked myself in an unfoggy mirror and went back into the living room.
“Took long enough. Feeling better,” Kayla asked. She was standing at one of my built-in shelves examining my memories. I’d spent the summer at her house but this was her first trip to mine.
“Yeah. I needed that,” I answered, dropping into my new chair from Danko, an early Christmas present to myself.
“Who’s this,” she asked, holding up a picture of Elsa, Maja and me. It was one of my favorite pictures of much happier times. A time when I thought my life was all laid out before me. A time before Elsa took off to get herself together.
“That’s one of my students and her mom, almost two years ago now.”
“You go sailing with all your students or just the one’s with drop-dead gorgeous moms.”
“Seriously, I bet you have all the single moms hitting on you and maybe some of the married moms too,” she said putting Elsa and Maja down and picking up a picture of Franco and me fishing. “They do, don’t they? Hit on you. What a sneaky way to meet chicks. Teach their kids. Complicates things though, doesn’t it?”
“Doesn’t happen that often,” I answered but the truth was, it happened a lot. Elsa was different though. I’d had four serious invites from my student’s moms just since August. Two from single moms and two from married. Married moms were a dangerous proposition but the single moms were dangerous too, in a different way. The two this year were both attractive and seemed to have their acts together, rare combinations. “How long are you here for,” I asked.
“Tiff needs to be back Sunday night to get ready for school.” She picked up a picture of me together with Darius Rucker. “This guy looks familiar. Who is it.”
“Ever heard of Hootie and the Blowfish?”
“Sweet. You know him?”
“He’s a local. I filled in for a friend of mine who got sick that night. Security. Kind of a strange deal and I ended up back stage. Fun night. He’s got a boat and I’ve seen him out on the water a couple of times. I’m sure he doesn’t remember me. Meets thousands of people.”
She was on to the next pictures, a series in different dojos. “Not a lot of pictures of you and women up here. Just the one.”
“Nope. Just the one and that’s an old picture.”
“I can’t believe that. Seriously. I know it’s not you so what’s wrong with the women in your life? Don’t they know what they’re missing?”
“Nice of you to say but you sort of hit the nail on the head. There are no women in my life.” It was sad but true. I had a better love life with my cousins than anyone else in nearly two years.
“No moms?” she asked and waited.
“A couple have shown interest but that’s sort of awkward.”
“Having a relationship with the mother of one of your students is awkward? How about having a relationship with mother-daughter cousins? Doesn’t that seem to raise awkward to a whole new level? But you managed.” I hate smart teenagers.
“What about at your dojo? There’s a couple of them here. And you live two blocks from the beach. This place must be crawling with babes, especially in the summer.”
“It is. But that’s hardly a foundation for any kind of relationship.”
“You haven’t had sex with anyone since you were at our house,” she said accusingly.
“Is that a bad thing? Do you think that when you become an adult you just have all kinds of sex whenever you want?” She thought she had it figured out and was processing the possibility she was not only wrong but completely wrong. “What about your mom. Amanda is hot and she hadn’t had a date in years. It’s a little more complicated than you think.”
“I never really thought about my mom being hot before. She is, huh. It shouldn’t be complicated. You and me, we’re not complicated. Right?” She was looking for a different reality.
“It’s actually extremely complicated. Think about it. You’re 15 and you just drove three hours, presumably to have sex with someone twice your age that you’re related to. Doesn’t that sound just a little complicated?”
“What makes you think I came here for sex?” she asked and I sat staring at her, challenging her to tell me I was wrong. She looked at me with a deadpan denial for about 30 seconds and then busted out laughing and I joined her. Of course, she had come there for sex. I was safe and fun.
“That’s a good thing,” I said when we had almost stopped laughing. “It means you’re not getting boinked in the back seat by some kid who doesn’t care about anything but himself.”
“That’s the truth. Danny, you wouldn’t believe the immaturity. I feel like I’m still in high school or something.” She was still in high school but I knew what she meant.
“I can help with the sex. You won’t get much of a Thanksgiving dinner, though. I didn’t expect company. And what about your mom? What is she doing for Thanksgiving?”
“The Christmas lights are on at the Biltmore and business is crazy good. She’s got a catering service coming in to prepare Thanksgiving for all the guests. She has the guesthouse full and a couple of rooms in the main house. And just so you know, my hot mom could use a visit.” She looked over her shoulder at me with all seriousness.
It’s nice to feel wanted. I stood and waited. When she saw me standing, she set the picture down quickly and ran into my arms. Kayla was almost as tall as me. She tucked her face into my shoulder and squeezed me. I just held her tight. “You smell good,” I said and waited a moment. I dropped my hands down to her ass, a very un-cousinly thing to do. She tucked in closer.
“You feel pretty good too, now that you’re somewhat warmed up. There’s something wrong though.”
“Clothes. We’re wearing clothes. We should be naked.” I didn’t need any encouragement. I grabbed the hem of her Pumpt blouse or sports bra, whatever it was, and pulled it up. She raised her arms to let me slide it up and off. Her top seemed to cling to her breasts and I tugged a little harder, springing them free.
With her top off I stepped back to enjoy the view. Her wonderfully firm, rounded tits, untouched by time or worn from motherhood, her slightly upturned dark brown nipples, framed with white tan lines. I watched her nipples begin to harden beneath my gaze, and not just her nipples but the Montgomery glands that served as tiny, ornaments of pleasure. She held her pose, her body steady, allowing me the indulgence. I wanted to touch them, hold them, caress them, kiss and suckle them. But I wanted my eyes to enjoy them as much as my hands and mouth soon would.
Adjusting my shorts as my body responded, I said, “Kayla, you have a magnificent body. Absolutely magnificent.”
“You mean you like my tits,” she said and wiggled, her breasts
“I do. That’s not all I like but they are wonderful.” She enjoyed hearing that so I continued. “They are the perfect size, maybe a C cup and firm, perhaps as large as breasts could be and go without a bra. It’s been a while since you’ve gotten some sun but still have those wonderful tan lines that tell me I get to see what few others have.” She was still smiling so I continued. “I love the color of your areolas and nipples, more brown than pink, and your nipples are getting stiff because I’m talking about them. Your Montgomery glands; I don’t know why but I love those. The additional texture fascinates me and I love the feel beneath my hands and especially beneath my tongue.” She started to step closer but I put my hand on her shoulders. “Even the angle. They’re pointed up but not a lot, just a little. I can imagine the weight of your breasts in my hands and the sound you’ll make when I roll your nipples between my fingers. I can hear you hiss as I suck one into my mouth.”
She pushed toward me harder. “I’m already soaking wet, you butt. You better stop talking and start doing pretty soon.”
I was loving every minute of it. I let my eyes travel lower, “Your belly is a work of art. I can see that you’ve continued working out and perhaps lost a just a little weight because there is real definition in your abs. You had some before but you’re relaxed now and I can still see the outline of your abs. I like that a lot because those are core muscles and you’ll need those when we make love. Your abs make me feel special, like you’ve been working out just so you can be an even better lover.”
“I’m serious Danny,” she said and tried to take a step closer but I held her back. She was enjoying this but I could only keep it up so long or her fuse would blow and she’d be mad at me.
I closed my eyes and licked my lips. “I can imagine feeling your belly beneath my hands and those loose sweatpants won’t hold me back. I can feel you quiver as I slide my hand inside the waistband and ease them down. I can imagine the soft, warm feel of your hips wiggling to get your sweatpants off, your quivering anxious anticipation.” I inhaled deeply. “I can smell your arousal from here. Its wonderful aroma is too much for me. Just the faintest scent of you has gotten me rock hard. I can imagine sliding my hands all the way down to feel your heat, to release your heat as I slide your sweats down.” I wasn’t going to be able to keep this up much longer. We were both too worked up for me to continue talking without touching.
“Danny, I want you inside me and I want you inside me now. You’re driving me nuts,” she pleaded.
“Then, I would let you close the distance to me and I’d bury my face in your pussy, drape one of your legs over my shoulder to open you up to me. I can remember your taste and I can’t wait to taste you again,” I said as I licked my lips, my eyes still closed.
She was done waiting and rather than trying to close the distance, I could hear her slide her sweatpants down. I opened my eyes as she revealed her pussy, shaved bare except for a tiny landing strip of fine curls. Dripping with anticipation, she spread her legs, inviting me closer. Her smell was strong, sweet, intoxicating.
I looked her over from head to toe once more. Finally, I took my hand off her shoulder and let her close the distance. I sat back on the ottoman and pulled her to me.
“Steady yourself against me and lift one of your legs over my shoulder.” She did and I looked up into her eyes. “You have a glorious body and it’s mine.” I slid my hands under her ass and pulled her pussy to me slowly. She was actually shaking with desire.
“I’m yours. Do whatever you want but do it now Danny. I’m on fire here.” And she really was.
I pulled her to me and kissed all around her pussy as she tried to thrust it into my mouth. I slid my tongue up her slit and she shivered again. I knew this wouldn’t take long but I wanted it to be good so I started fast and quickly picked up the pace to try to catch up with her excitement. I used my lips to part hers and slid my tongue from top to bottom then found her steaming hot clit and sucked it the tiniest bit. I knew her well enough to know I had very little time before she came.
I slid a finger inside her as I sucked her clit into my mouth. I’d forgotten just how hot she got. Two or three stroke of her g-spot and some gentle sucking and she exploded in her first orgasm of the weekend. She clutched my head to her tightly, holding herself steady enough that I could keep contact where it mattered most. Sometimes she came hard and sometimes gently. Not unexpectedly, this was an intense orgasm. As she clutched me tightly, I kept my fingers moving inside her as I let my lips slide back and forth, always keeping suction on her clit. Her shaking moved through me to the ottoman and I planted my feet more solidly, bracing us against the power of her release.
She’d been quiet except for erratic, heavy breathing but when I thought her orgasm would end, she began a series of “yes, yes, yes” hissed at me as encouragement. She lifted up on the toes of her left foot and tried to push herself even closer. I slid a second and third finger inside her, working them over her g-spot, almost as though I were trying to put them through her body and into my mouth. When I did that, she spasmed harder than ever holding me in one long hard convulsion. She exhaled fully and convulsed four or five more times, each quake catching us both by surprise. With what finally seemed to be the last shudder, she inhaled deeply, sighed long and loud and she was done.
She pushed my head away and let her leg drop away from my shoulder. “Out, out, out. Take your fingers out. Oh my god. Too much. Oh my god.” Spent, she stepped back and dropped to her knees, then dropped to all fours on the carpet in front of me, finally rolling onto her side.
She shivered and quaked a couple more times and I just watched. When it seemed like the last of her tremors was over, she opened her eyes again and looked up at me in an upside-down sort of way. “I love you Danny. My amygdala loves you. My nucleus accumbens loves you and my ventral tegmental area loves you. Even my pituitary gland loves you,” she cooed.
“I love it when you talk pre-med science to me,” I responded. “The dopamine will do that to you.”
“Thank you,” she said, now sounding as demure as she could. She fluttered her eyelashes at me. “That was the best.”
“Just getting started, little girl,” I said and bent down to pick her. I cradled her in my arms and straightened up as she wrapped her arms around my neck.
“What are you going to do now?” she asked. I silently carried her to my room and gently set her on my bed. “Are you going to take advantage of me, you brute?” I began to undress as she slid the sheets back. “You are, aren’t you? I can see a gleam in your eye. You’re going to ravage me, aren’t you?”
I dropped my shorts and stepped out of them. I was rock hard and more than ready and her eyes were locked on my dick. She was, again, practically shaking with anticipation. I climbed up onto the bed and between her open thighs as she spread her legs for me.
“Put those two pillows under your head. I want your head elevated,” I said and she did so quickly. Whatever I was going to do, it was clear that she wanted me to do it quickly. I eased closer to her then lifted her hips and slid another pillow under her. “Watch. I want you to see me as I enter you,” I said and positioned myself in front of her. Her eyes were glued to the action.
I positioned my dick at her entrance and rubbed it up and down, moistening the tip with her juices. She tried to thrust up at me but that wasn’t going to happen just yet. I slid up her slit on the outside, rubbing my dick against her waiting pussy. I eased up until she could see just how far into her I would be. The body doesn’t work quite like that but she had a good idea that I would be deep into her. I paused so she could see me and think about it.
“That deep,” I said. “I’m going to push that deep into you and you’re going to watch me and feel me do it. Don’t thrust. I just want you to feel it, to see it, to know.” Biting her lower lip, she looked up at me and nodded, more than ready.
I eased back down to her entrance and without using my hands positioned myself at her entrance. Everything in me wanted to plunge into her but I didn’t. I slipped inside and slowly penetrated her. I tried to keep a constant and steady pace, slowly driving into her heat until I was completely buried. I watched her face as she watched my dick. There’s no way to describe her surprise, fascination and satisfaction as I did.
“Keep watching,” I said and began to slowly pull out. She exercised more control than I would have imagined and when I was nearly out, I began to drive back into her again. This time, I drove in ever so slightly faster and without stopping began to pull out again. It felt like I was taking forever although I know it was only seconds.
It had only been a couple of months since we’d last had sex. My memory was good but not good enough to remember just how wonderfully tight and hot she felt. I’ve never felt anyone as hot as her.
On my third or fourth drive she took her eyes off my dick and looked up at me. She nodded. “You feel amazing and it looks incredible. Now fuck me. Fuck me hard,” she said and thrust up at me as I began another slow drive.
I complied and finally began to work at a pace we both liked. She thrust up at me and when I drew back, she clenched her pussy muscles to grip me tightly. Our eyes locked, something we both loved. I knew her well and could tell she was about to cum again.
“Not yet, baby. Hold off another minute,” I said. “Here’s what I see. Your chest is flush, deeper red from your neck spreading down toward your breasts. I see your nipples so hard I think they must ache from it. I see your breathing growing ragged and out of control. Not yet. I see your eyes on me with love and lust and I see the dam about to break. I smell you and me and I feel the heat and you do too. Listen to the sound we make as I slide in. Listen.” I really picked up the pace, driving into her completely and then grinding against her, out quickly and then driving in again.
“Are you ready?” I asked and she nodded at me frantically, an almost desperate look in her eyes.
“Please. I need to cum.”
“Okay, baby, cum for me,” I said and pounded her. She almost immediately began to spasm. I had managed to hold off until she started but as soon as she did, I jetted into her.
We kept our eyes open and on each other, locked in our moment. Her hands now on my back tried to pull me down as her heels gripped my butt. I held myself up, pounding as we came. I tried to get three or four thrusts in the middle of the orgasm but my body wouldn’t let me. I drove deep and held it as she clutched me to her, sucked me into her. Finally, I dropped my weight down onto her and tied her up with my arms.
We held tight, with me deep inside until the last few shudders of our climax passed. I knew I was heavy on her and rolled so that she could be on top. We held each other’s butts tight, straining to keep the connection and it worked. When she was on top, she pushed up to look down at me and smiled.
I couldn’t help myself. “I like your tits,” I said, repeating her earlier assessment. She shook her head and dropped back down, pressing her face against my shoulder. Total satisfaction.
After a few moments she whispered to me, “That was pretty nice.” I nodded silently. “I came like a freight train making up for lost time,” she said, a phrase she had heard me use before.
Suddenly, she lifted up to focus on me. “You came hard too, right?” I nodded. “I mean, there’s no such thing as a bad orgasm but that was pretty special for me so was it special for you too? Was it different than normal?” I nodded and grinned broadly. Satisfied, she dropped back down again.
After a few moments, she lifted up again. “When I’m 30, I’ll still remember that one.” And then she dropped back down. After a few moments she whispered, “When I’m 50, and 60 and when I’m in a nursing home, I’ll remember that one.” She wriggled against me and I wrapped her up in my arms. I’d remember too. “I’ll lay there in the nursing home with my vibrator and remember that time.”
She sat up again. It was getting more difficult to stay inside her. “You like to make love looking at me so you’ll remember too, right?” I nodded. “Everybody doesn’t do that do they?”
“Can’t speak for everybody. No. I don’t think many people do.”
“Have you had sex with people where you wanted to close your eyes? I mean, do you want to remember everybody?” It was a great question.
“I think at the time, it should be special enough that you would think that.” She waited. “No. Not everyone. Sometimes, you just get horny and see a solution. It’s satisfying but not in some long-term way.”
She scooted back and I slipped out. She sat on my thighs and it was obvious she was ready to talk. “So, are there lots of women you really remember? I want to know.”
This seemed like a strange time to take the conversation to past lovers. It’s difficult to remember what being a teenager was like and the female mind is forever mysterious. I indulged her.
“I was pretty young. My dad had a collection of Playboys. I used to look through them and they were always filled with beautiful women I couldn’t have, except in my imagination. I remember two of them because they were in my imagination more than any others. One was a pretty blonde named Lisa Matthews and she was a goddess. There was one picture in particular that I just loved. It was her on the beach with her hands behind her, head up, breasts out, soaking up the sun. I loved that picture. The other was Lauren Michelle Hill.”
“But you never had sex with them?”
“Oh, I had sex with them many times,” I said and held up my right hand.
She shook her head and swatted my hand. “You remember their names from that long ago?”
“I was a teenager that thought about sex as much as you do and they took turns in my imagination. I remember. Those were the two most beautiful women I’d ever seen. Until now.”
“That’s nice. But what about real women. Not that ... I mean I know those are real women, but women you’ve really had sex with. Do you remember all of them?”
“There’s not that many, really.”
“You remember most, though?”
“Some you remember and some you don’t. It’s kind of sad that you would share something this intimate and forget.” I let my memory work. There were some that really stood out. I must have been smiling. I looked at her and she was smiling slyly back at me.
“Tell. You just remembered some good ones, or maybe just one good one. Tell.”
“A gentleman never tells,” I answered.
“But you would. Tell.”
“Ouch. That hurts.” I thought for a moment. “I’ve already told you a couple. Summer before last I had a pretty memorable couple of days but I told you about that. That was crazy.”
“What about the beautiful blonde in the picture?” She was asking about Elsa. I shook my head. Not going there. “What about my mom?”
“Well, that’s just a couple of months ago, and yes, we had some pretty memorable sex.”
“But which times? She’d tell me. You can tell me. What were you doing that’s like the one you’d never forget?”
She was trying to put it in a bottle. Trying to figure out the recipe for memorable sex.
“You and me, just now ... There is no time with any woman ever, that I will remember longer than that.” She seemed almost satisfied with the answer so I pulled her down to me again.
She was satisfied with that for a moment and then sat up again and slid back, straddling my thighs. She looked down at my limp dick with sad eyes. “Not sure if it’s cute or pathetic when it’s not in use. It’s a wiener again.” She played with me a little.
“I didn’t hear any complaints a few minutes ago.”
“No. None. How soon until he’s ready to play again?”
“Goodness, woman.” She smiled but continued to play with me. “How’s school?” Changing the subject not really knowing why.
“Give me a little more than that. How’s Anatomy Physiology?”
“It’s easy. Okay, it’s not really easy but I studied ahead and I’m really interested so it seems easy. Or at least easier than it would otherwise. A lot of the kids in that class are in a couple of my other classes too.”
“The whole first semester is Anatomy, right?”
“Yeah. We’re on the muscular system. Big muscles are easy. I already know them and the best exercises but all the little muscles are a pain in the butt. Did you know the zygomaticus major is what allows you to smile?”
“Actually, I did know that. Important muscle. I used mine a lot recently.” She used hers back at me.
“And you did a fine job of it too,” she said and tried to stretch my dick into action unsuccessfully. “Shouldn’t you be getting hard again by now?”
“How about math?”
“AP calculus AB with Mr. Sitwell. It’s not bad. Harder than my previous math classes. The good thing about that class is there are no pretenders in it. No one takes it unless they need it so there’s only nine of us. I thought they were going to drop it because there were so few of us but a couple of parents complained and they kept it.”
“But your grades are okay in that?”
“It’s the only class I’m going to have to fight for an A in. It doesn’t really matter what grade you get. I mean, it does because it’s all part of your GPA but the test at the end is what gets you college credits. So, if I get a B but still do well enough on the test for college credit, I’ll be okay with it.”
“Anything else really challenging?”
“Government and history are both pretty easy. Lot of reading but most of it is stuff I already know. AP Comp is a pain and I don’t like the teacher but she doesn’t like me either so that seems fair.”
“What’s the painful part?”
“Besides her lectures?” I nodded. “Essays aren’t hard. Long sometimes but not hard. Formatting is easy once you have a template down. It’s the poetry that kills me.”
“Who are you studying? Who’s giving you trouble?”
“It’s not that. We have to write poetry and all the rhyme schemes and especially the free verse. I’d rather stick to Dr Seuss.”
“Always a favorite. But you’re getting a good grade?” She nodded. “It’s just an obstacle to cross. Some classes, like Anatomy and Physiology you want to get a good grade but you also want to remember the material. I had a comp class like that but I’ve never had to write poetry. Pass it and move on.” She nodded. “And this is volleyball season, right?”
“Yeah. Almost over. We lost three good players to injury so we’re not going anywhere. I get all the playing time I want but I thought we had a chance at state and that’s not going to happen.”
“No accounting for injuries. What’s next, softball or track?”
“They overlap but I’m training track early. I’ve got a friend, Ashleigh Kingman, at UNC Asheville who’s on the track team and she’s already talked with their coach. I’ll be able to train high hurdles and they have a good weight room. My guidance counselor is talking to them too, mostly about liability insurance, I think.”
“So, are you still thinking volleyball is your best scholarship chance?”
“Maybe not. I’ve run some with Ashleigh and she thinks I can get a partial for track.”
“A partial is better than nothing, that’s for sure.”
“Any scholarship I get is great but...”
“But I’m not really interested in UNC. I want to get into the medical program at Duke and I think that will be more difficult.” She started stroking me with a little more intensity. “I see signs of life here. Maybe I should practice my CPR skills.”
She had me almost hard again and scooted higher on my body, ready to start as soon as she could. She stroked me using both hands and it didn’t take much of that before I was completely ready again.
“This is mine. I do the work this time,” she said and raised up to coat me with her juices. I was glad to let her do the work. After all, her mom told me to wear her out, although I didn’t think that was really possible.
She lifted up and positioned herself above me and when she was on target, she looked up at me and smiled. “Nice and slow,” she said and slid down all the way.
It didn’t seem slow but then it was. She stayed down with me buried in her and then began an undulation that reminded me of what a belly dancer would do. She ground against me and worked sort of forward and back more than side to side. Her belly was doing all the work and it was spectacular to watch. She closed her eyes and worked as though trying to suck as much of me up into her as possible. When she had done that, she paused for a second, wiggled a little, just to be sure, and then leaned back. She arched her back and dropped her hands back to grab my ankles.
When my cock was pressed firmly against the front of her vagina, she began to raise and lower herself on me. I watched her tight abs do the work. She raised up until I was nearly out, pulsed her pussy to squeeze me and then descended. She dropped down to her elbows, stretching her body even further. She was tight enough as it was but this heightened that sensation even more. I wasn’t going to last long like that. I hoped she wouldn’t either.