Gender: Male Age: Secret Location: Detroit
|Introduction: A story of sexual descovery on summer vacation|
For Amy and this memory...
It was 1967, the psychedelic "summer of love" and free sex, and I had just turned sixteen.
I remember that, as a teenager, girls were something that I had on my mind constantly. I wanted a girlfriend desperately back then. But how to get one had completely eluded me. Being in the presence of a girl, in those days, made me goofy and tongue tied.
I didn't consider myself a total dork though. I had "fooled around" with a few girls, when I was younger, but nothing past the exploratory, kissy-feely, "spin-the-bottle" type of thing that you do as a kid.
Looking back, at photographs of myself at that age, I had nothing special going (in the looks department) that would attract any girls to me. I was lanky and thin, with my unkempt brown hair hanging down to my collar.
My sudden shyness at talking with girls really hadn't presented me with too much of a problem though because the girls, in my neighborhood and at my high school, had all seemingly conspired to ignore me completely.
Late that summer, my family went on vacation to a rental cottage in (what was then) a resort area of Canada on the shores of Lake Erie. We were going to be there for two weeks. My parents allowed me and my little sister to each invite a friend with us. I brought my buddy Mike and Bess brought her little girlfriend Laurie.
Me and Mike had a lot of fun swimming and laying on the long, sandy beach and playing ball but what we were really looking for was (as always) pussy.
I had specifically brought Mike with me because I knew that he had a way with the girls. He wasn't nervous or shy around them (like I was). He had gotten laid (many times) and seemed to know how to get what he wanted from the opposite sex. They all seemed to want him too. He was seventeen and dark and had a James Dean like quality about him that made him popular at his High School. I figured he could get us into the sack with a couple of vacationing cuties and make this a summer for me to remember forever.
This (as I had it figured) was going to be my opportunity to finally lose my virginity.
Mike knew what was expected of him and he did his best for me. Whenever we were at the beach, he would walk up to pretty, bikini-clad gals and try and get us lined up for a night of sexual bliss but (for some reason) none of his charm or appeal seemed to be working.
Maybe (I assumed) it was because they saw, as he talked with them, that he was saddled with me. He always came away saying the girls had told him that they had to go home or that they already had dates for later.
The first week of vacation went by disappointingly and then most of the second.
The day before we went home, Mike and I decided to walk around down in the town of Leamington and see if there was any action to be had there. It was the average, sleepy little town, with its main street of grocery stores, hardware emporiums, a theatre, bakery, drug store, clothing stores and hotels (because there were no bars in Ontario then - you had to have a hotel to serve liquor).
We were just leaving the drug store when we met a gang of local teens. There were about ten of them, just wandering around like we were. They looked like the Canadian equivalent of early punk-rockers. They all wore leather and tried to seem like tough guys. They asked us for cigarettes and we gave them some. Guys like these would have taken all my smokes and kicked my ass but they seemed to like Mike, as he stood and talked to them.
They were Rolling Stones fans and Mike was too. They talked about how Mick Jagger and Keith Richards could easily beat the shit out of John Lennon and Paul McCartney (in a fair fight) and how GET OFF MY CLOUD was ten times the song that STRAWBERRY FIELDS was and then we got to walking around the town with them.
There was a girl hanging out with the gang. She called herself "Digger" and she was about fifteen and tall and skinny. She had shoulder length, bleach-blond, over-permed hair and a cute, upturned-nose kind of face. She had two rows of perfectly aligned, white teeth behind the full, pink lips of her pert mouth. She looked like the actress Meg Ryan might have appeared as a teenager. She wore a white t-shirt and a black, leather jacket with lots of silver zippers and tight, over-worn, black, denim jeans above her black, high-heel shoes with their straps at her exposed ankles. She walked, with her hands in her jacket pockets, in an easy, graceful gait that made her ass sway slowly and seductively as she went.
I couldn't keep my eyes off of her. She was pretty and brash and loud, bending and laughing and grabbing the guys and smacking them as they all walked and talked, in sexual innuendo, about her thin but curvy body.
"Digger's got the hottest little ass in Canada," one boy laughed as we slowly passed the bakery on Main Street.
"But it’s not for you, Christopher," she giggled, putting her hands on her hips and shaking her round behind at him. Her black jeans molded perfectly to the cheeks of her ass as she wiggled it.
"Do you spit or swallow, Digger?" asked another boy.
"Yours I'd spit, Ricky... in your eye. But only after I bit that little fucker off for you!"
Ricky assumed a painful expression and clutched his crotch and she growled in mock anger and playfully punched the red-haired boy in the chest as everyone laughed again.
"Digger swallows," stated the tall, muscular, older boy, who seemed to be their leader and he put his hand in her open jacket, as he walked beside her, and grabbed the bump of her small, left breast and squeezed it through her t-shirt adding, "at least, she always swallows when I cum in her mouth."
"Oooh!" the gang members sang, in unison, respectfully to their leader but, at the same time, tauntingly toward Digger.
"Yeah," she said, pulling his hand out of her jacket and walking backward as she turned to look at the group, "and, I bet, all of you swallow, when he comes in your mouths, too!"
"Oooh!" they all taunted again, but knowing that she had bested them.
But one of the boys wasn't going to let that insult go unchallenged. "And I suppose you don't like to eat pussy, Digger? That's not what I hear, eh? I hear that you and Sandy Johnson stripped off your bathing suits and made each other cum, on the beach, past Seacliff Park, the other night. I heard it from her brother! He was watching you two sixty-nine from the edge of the grass!"
"Yeah, Lee," she replied now, looking back at him, "and Sandy Johnson won't let you even near her. Does that mean that she knows that my little tongue is longer than your dick?"
Everyone laughed again. Except Lee.
After a time, I joined in with their raunchy talk, commenting approvingly about her sexy body but not in an insulting way. Digger wasn't smacking me for what I was saying (though I wanted her to touch me). She just smiled at me (and what I was saying)and she looked at me in a way that other girls, I had known, never did. It was as if she was appraising me for some unknown purpose.
After we had walked around for a while, we ended up by the lake, at the edge of the town's residential area. Old, asbestos-sided houses and side streets took up one side of the road that overlooked the rise leading down to the beach. The other gang members had split off and gone home and it was now just Digger, Mike and me.
I stood next to the dilapidated, wooden fence that was supposed to keep people from walking down, past the private cottages, to the sandy beach below and I watched Mike and Digger as they stood together in the middle of the blacktop road. I was waiting for him to start talking to her and working his charm on her. Hoping that he could get her to maybe do something with us. She had her hands in her jacket pockets again and they were now toe-to-toe in front of a green house with a screen porch.
"So...," Mike said to her, after they had just stood there for some time, "if I told you that you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?"
Digger looked up at the sky and snorted and then she took a step back, cocked her head at him, bent in amusement and yelled, "Jesus God! Is that the kind of bullshit line those bad-ass Detroit girls go for?" She shook her head and laughed at him. "Does that lame kind of shit really get you into their pants?" she scoffed as she backed away from him and stood, by the fence, next to me.
Mike seemed uncharacteristically embarrassed and mentioned that it was getting late and that my mom would have supper about ready. He turned and went back to the cottage leaving me and Digger alone.
Digger looked out into Lake Erie as I stood close beside her and listened to the gulls and the wind and the waves coming from down on the beach. I noticed that her heels and her long, sexy legs made her stand almost as tall as I was. I could feel her body shiver next to me and (summoning courage) I took a chance and put an arm around her soft, thin waist. She turned abruptly to me and, without warning, wrapped her arms around my neck, softly pushed her pretty mouth to mine, and kissed me in a sexy, tongue probing manner that I was unused to but thrilling me to my toes as I closed my eyes and tasted the sweetness of her warm, agile mouth.
Just then a young, dark haired, bare-footed boy approached from up the road and hollered, "Amy! You gotta' get home! Mom's lookin' for you!"
Digger broke off our sweet, wonderful kiss, stamped her high-heeled foot on the loose gravel and turned to the boy. "Damn you, Kevin!" she yelled. "Can't you see I'm busy?"
"Well," he replied, unflustered by her anger, "get UN-busy and get home!"
The boy turned and slowly walked off and Digger sighed and said, "That's my little brother. He's a pain in the fuckin' ass!"
She snatched a cigarette from the open pack in my shirt pocket and lit it with a shiny Zippo from her jacket, blowing the smoke directly into the strong, warm, August wind that was whipping in from the Great Lake.
"I gotta' go," she said and she turned and started to walk away, leaving me standing there alone.
"Yeah, I understand." I called out to her.
Digger stopped and turned to me. "Listen," she said and she took another deep drag of her cigarette, "see that little white cottage by the access road over there?" She pointed to it.
"I'm baby-sitting for the Miller's tonight. They're from Ohio."
Digger flicked her cigarette aside and walked back to me, taking my hands and placing them on her warm sides, at the curves of her hips. She held them there as she looked right into my face with her pale-blue eyes and smiled. "Do you like me?" she asked, her eyebrows raised in query.
I laughed. "Of course I do!"
"Then,” she continued, “do you want me?"
"What do you mean, do I want you?"
She laughed now but then her face became serious as she stared into my eyes. "I mean, do you want to fuck me?"
I had never been asked a question like this before and the look on her pretty face and the feel of her thin, feminine body between my hands and the meaning of her question caused my cock to harden rigid in my pants.
"Y-yes!" I stammered.
"Alright," she stated flatly now. "You come to that cottage at ten o'clock. Knock on the door and I'll answer. The Miller's have one kid. She's a baby and she sleeps the whole time I'm there. They're going to dinner and a movie and they won't be back until after midnight. We can fuck in their bed or in the living room, on the couch or on the floor. Anywhere you want to fuck me, I don't care."
I just stared into her pretty features, not believing my wonderful fortune as she said those words to me. My mind was reeling with the fact that I was finally going to get laid! That a girl (an attractive, long legged, curvy girl at that) was actually going to willingly give herself to me.
Her eyes squinted at me, searching my face for a reply. "Okay?"
I gulped and nodded and said. "Yeah!"
Digger pushed herself against me now and kissed me again with even more wet passion than the last time. I felt her put her hand between us, as we stood together and kissed, and she squeezed my rigid cock, through my pants, making it throb wildly. She removed her mouth from mine and put her soft cheek to the side of my face and her lips to my ear and I could smell a sweet fragrance in her blond hair as she said, "I want to feel this hard thing fuck deep inside me tonight. I want to feel it when it throbs and shoots your cum into me."
I trembled as she squeezed my cock harder and licked at my ear with her warm, wet tongue. She took my hand from the curve of her hip and placed it up between her legs and then pressed my palm firmly against the jut of her pubic bone at the wide, smooth crotch of her denims. I could feel the outline and the heat of her pussy, through the soft material, as we stood together, wetly kissing and feeling each others' sexual areas, outdoors, on a public street, in the bright, yellow light of late afternoon.
"Aaaa-meee!" her brother's irritated, whining call echoed from way up the road now.
She pushed herself back from me and breathlessly announced, "Shit! I gotta' go!"
"Yeah,” I replied. “I heard."
"Ten o'clock," she stated as she turned and started walking up the road and she looked back at me as she walked and added, "Don't forget!"
Forget? I was so excited that I can't even remember walking back to the cottage or what was for dinner or if I even ate. I do remember that Mike was quite happy for me, after I told him what was going to happen.
"This looks like it, pal," he said. "It sounds like a sure thing to me."
"Yeah," I said, as we stood by the side of our rental cottage where my dad's light-beige Ford Galaxy was parked, "but what do I do? What do I say? How do I act?"
"You fuck her, man! That's all there is to it. She wants you! Just go over there and give her what she wants. Fuck her!"
"It can't be that simple."
"Don't make such a big thing out of this. That's why you strike out so much. It is that simple. She wants your dick. Get between her legs, put it in her pussy and fuck her. That's all you need to think about."
"But what if, by the time I get there, she's not in the mood anymore?"
Mike laughed. "Not in the mood? That kind of girl is always in the mood!"
"That kind of girl?" I said, my eyebrows up in question.
"Oh man! Don't you know anything? Didn't you see her with those guys? Weren't you paying attention to anything that was said?"
"She's the town pump, Em! She's a... a groupie! A tramp. A slut!"
My eyes flashed angrily at him now.
"Emerson, you hopeless putz! Why do you like to make angels out of every girl who smiles at you? Wake up! She's a little whore! But don't get me wrong... I mean it in the nicest way. And she's going to give that sweet little pussy of hers to you! Get with the program! Don't make such a big deal out of it. You're gonna' fuck this girl, not marry her!"
"God, Mike! That's not what I saw. She's a nice girl. I could tell. She just wants friends... people to like her. She just wants love and attention..."
"Love?" Mike laughed loudly now. "You asshole! It's no wonder you never get laid! You know what your problem is? You think with your dick when you're supposed to think with your head and then you turn around and think with your head when you're supposed to think with your dick!"
"Yeah?" he challenged. "You think yourself out of more pussy than any guy I've ever known! Shit! My little brother Johnny is going to get laid before you do!"
I was listening to him but I wasn't listening to him. I was too edgy and nervous to listen or think.
The next two hours were the slowest of my teenage life.
My parents and my little sister and her friend went to the drive-in to see GOOD NEIGHBOR SAM with Jack Lemmon. That left Mike to sit (and me to pace) until quarter to ten.
"Alright," Mike said, calling a halt to my aimless walking around the little kitchen, "this is it. Zero hour of D-Day! American cock versus Canadian pussy. Go get her!"
I had chain-smoked all of my cigarettes so I took one of Mike's and lit it.
"Here," he said, handing me the pack, "you'll need one for after."
I was a bundle of nerves as I thrust the pack of Players into my shirt pocket and walked to the door, hesitating as I grabbed the latch.
"But how do I..."
"Remember," he coached, "it's the wet, soft, hairy place between her legs. There's a hole there and it smells like tuna. You can't miss it!"
I opened the door and stepped out into the night, listening to the sounds of the crickets and the waves from the lake as I walked, in the warm night air, down the blacktop road that led to the rise above the Miller's cottage.
It was precisely ten o'clock when I knocked on the wooden, screen door. I could hear the sound of the television playing the theme from THE AVENGERS as I stood and waited for her to come.
THE AVENGERS theme ended, as I stood on the back porch, and then a commercial jingle for Winston cigarettes came merrily through the screen window. I knocked again as I listened to the happy tune:
"...it's what's up front that counts
and up front, ahead of the filter,
only Winston has the smooth, fresh taste
that comes from filter blend..."
When I knocked the third time, the TV went silent and, after a moment, I could hear soft footsteps in the kitchen and then the door opened and there she stood, smiling at me.
"Hi," she said, in a happy but odd sounding voice.
She was every bit as sexy and pretty as she was this afternoon. She was still wearing the t-shirt and the skin-tight, black jeans but not the jacket and she was bare footed now as she opened the screen door wider to let me in.
"You're right on time," she said as she took my hand and led me through the little kitchen to the living room and sat down on the couch, smiling up at me and patting the space beside her.
It was a cottage exactly like the one my family had rented. A kitchenette and living room with a sofa, one old upholstered chair and a low coffee table. There was a black and white TV on a stand, across from the couch, and a counter shelf with a glowing lamp and an old radio on it. Two doors led to a dark bedroom and a tiny bathroom. It was all done in varnished, knotty pine.
I sat down next to her and she leaned to the coffee table and picked up a half-empty bottle of Bombay dry gin and took a long swig.
She looked at me, with her cheeks full of liquor, and then swallowed, wiping her pretty mouth with her wrist and holding the bottle in front of me. "Want some?"
"No thanks." I said.
"Aw," she responded, loudly. "This is a party! Don't you want
to party with me?"
"Yeah... sure. It's just that... drinking makes my dick not get hard."
She groaned loudly and took another long drink and set the bottle back on the table. "Shit!" she slurred, sitting upright and then leaning against me so that her face was pushed to my neck and her hand was on my chest. "We can't have that happening, can we? I want that thing!"
She lifted her head and looked up into my eyes and laughed and then she put her arm around my neck and pulled me and pressed her parted, wet lips to mine, thrusting her tongue into my mouth and sucking my tongue into hers.
I could taste the gin and smell it strongly on her breath as I positioned myself more facing her and clutched her soft, thin body to mine, returning her kiss with as much energy as she was expending toward me.
She took my hand and ran it up under her T-shirt. I could immediately tell that she wasn’t wearing a bra as she placed my hand against her smallish but firm, soft naked breast. I felt her large, hard nipple against my palm as I squeezed her breast and held her body and kissed her harder, causing her to moan into my face.
I could feel her hand pulling down the zipper of my pants and then struggling with the double buckle of my belt.
Damn, I thought as my tongue spared with hers. I should have taken the belt off before I left our cottage. I had to pull my mouth from hers as I lifted my ass to unfasten my belt for her.
As I worked at the double clasp, Digger got up from the couch and snatched the gin bottle from the low table, taking a long swig from it as she stumbled over to the radio and turned it on. A jingle for "Radio 8" CKLW played and then ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE began to flow melodically from the speaker.
Digger closed her eyes and began to sway her thin, curvy body to the music of the Beatles as she held the gin bottle against her chest and began to sing along in a surprisingly sweet and angelic voice...
"Love, love, love
love, love, love..."
"Shouldn't you sit back down?" I asked, watching her lanky body start to sway a little too far, causing her to stumble but then right herself.
"No," she said to me, with her eyes still closed. "I’ve got a nice buzz going, eh?"
"... there's nothing you can do that can't be done.
Nothing you can sing that can't be sung.
Nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be.
All you need is love..."
Digger's eyes opened wide and she looked over at the radio and silently stared at it for a moment. "You're God damn right!" she suddenly shouted at it and then her voice took on an odd, sorrowful whimper as she added, "That's all I fuckin' need!" and she abruptly stooped, putting her hand over her open mouth as a look of extreme anguish crossed her face. Her eyes got wider and wet and dripped a stream of huge, shiny tears down both of her cheeks as she bent lower and grimaced in misery and began to sob loudly and wretchedly as I sat, bewildered, and watched her.
She dropped to her knees now and covered her face with both of her hands and her body heaved and shook and trembled as she knelt on the floor and noisily cried.
Not knowing what to do, but knowing that I should do something, I jumped up and ran to her, my pants now loose and falling to my thighs as I went. As I reached her, she was sitting on the floor with her face hidden between her drawn up knees and her arms folded over her blond head. Her body was shaking as I bent down and soothingly touched her shoulder.
Digger's head snapped up and she looked at me with a wide grin on her pretty, wet face. She was laughing now. Laughing hard and rolling onto her back, holding her flat stomach as she cackled loudly and rocked back and forth on the faded, linoleum floor.
The Beatles sang on regardless...
"...Nothing you can know that isn't known.
Nothing you can see that isn't shown..."
I reached over and snapped off the radio. Then I picked up the gin bottle that was laying on it's side by Digger's rounded hip and set it on the counter. There was a box of tissues on the coffee table and I took one and handed it to her, watching as she sat up and then noisily blew her nose.
"Come on," I coaxed as I took her hands. "Let's get you up off of the dirty floor."
Digger smiled at me, her face still wet and streaked with her tears. "Okay," she said brightly as I pulled her to a standing position and then led her pliant body back to the couch.
I went to set her down but she suddenly turned to me and grabbed my shoulders and pulled me around and pushed me back so that I fell to the couch and was sitting by the armrest. Then she quickly sat on my lap and wrapped her arm around my neck, smiling happily at me. She gripped my chin with her free hand and pulled my face to hers.
We kissed strongly again and then she pulled her lips away and said, "You're so nice! You're so nice to me! That's all I want." Tears began to gush down her cheeks again and her lower lip quivered as she looked into my face and, with her voice halting and trembling in sorrow, said, "All I ever wanted... is a nice boy... who treats me like a decent girl..."
"Yeah," I told her, trying to stem her impending grief, "sure. I'm the guy. I'll be nice to you, Digger. Don't cry."
Digger seemed to casually toss away her misery with a shake of her head and a wave of her hand. She smiled now and looked into my face as if she were just noticing, for the first time, that I was even there with her. "I want to fuck!" she announced to me in loud, slurred, thick syllables. "I want you to fuck me hard," she said and then she fell backwards so that she was laying on the couch with her ass still on my lap and her legs up over the armrest beside me.
I watched her as she unsnapped the catch at the waistband of her jeans and then pulled her zipper down to just above the hidden mound at her crotch and spread the front of her denims open. I could see, through the parted V, that she was wearing pink, bikini panties underneath.
Digger grabbed my arm and pulled herself back up and pushed her mouth to mine again, kissing me gently and sweetly now, working her pretty face at mine and maneuvering her sweet tongue around, in my mouth, in a yearning manner that made my cock harden stiffly under her ass.
I put my hand up her shirt and groped the tender flesh of her bare warm breasts again, as we kissed, and then I pushed my hand down into her open jeans, feeling first the softness of her smooth, flat, lower belly and then the delicate fur of her pubic area and then the abundant wetness as my fingers passed the jut of her pelvic bone and found the indention of her feminine slit.
"Mmmmm," she moaned into my face as she passionately kissed me and I felt her part her legs a little so that my hand had room to work its way down into her pants.
The silky crotch of her panties was hot and moist, on the back of my hand, as my finger pushed into the slippery groove between her hair-covered mons and ran over the pea-sized bead of her slick, swollen clitoris.
She tilted her head back and mewled loudly and I kissed her offered neck as my middle finger found the wet entrance of her hot vagina and probed its way inside of her.
"Oh God!" she gasped. "Yes! Push it into me!"
I shoved my longest finger deep into her body, folding my other fingers into a fist and pushing in until I felt her warm, puffy butt cheeks and her soft, damp pussy lips on my knuckles. I marveled at how slick and wet and textured and hot and tight it was inside of her. That was as far as I had ever put a finger into a girl before and, as I probed around in her tightness and held her sexy body and sucked on her neck, I could actually feel the structure of her cervix deep inside of the hot confines of her belly.
Digger rocked her ass on my lap. "Fuck with it,” she coached me. “Fuck it into me!"
I began to thrust in and back with my finger now, as much as possible within the tight confines of her jeans. I could feel my cock becoming as hard as iron, in my pants, as her denim-encased ass moved around on it.
Digger gripped my neck with both of her arms and pushed her mouth to mine again, licking my tongue in abandon, and then she groaned and placed her pretty face at my neck and began to lick and suck and bite and hug me tightly as I deftly finger fucked her.
I could feel her soft, inner thighs against my hand as my finger twisted and probed and pushed into her wet sex with the urgency of my building lust. I could distinctly smell the spicy fragrance of her pussy in the air now and that wondrous, girlish odor drove me to even further carnal fury.
This was it, I told myself. I was finally going to do it! Now was my time. I was going to get it. I was going to actually fuck this pretty, sexy, unruly, little female. I was going to go all the way with her and I was going to do it without any more delay.
My idea was to lay her down now. Just lay her down and remove her jeans and panties and get on top of her and put my cock inside of her and fuck her right here on the couch. She was wet. She was hot. She was ready and so was I.
That's when I noticed that Digger wasn't sucking at my neck anymore. And that her arms seemed to have gone rubbery and limp and her head was just resting heavily on my shoulder. In fact, she suddenly seemed like just so much dead weight on my lap.
"Digger?" I spoke.
I heard no response as I sat there with her sexy body draped over me and my finger still deep up in her hot, tight, sexual passage.
"Digger?" I shook her with my upper body.
Still no response.
Now I maneuvered her shoulders back from me and watched her as she fell backward, with a soft thud, to the couch. The whites of her eyes showed behind the long lashes of her closed eyelids and her mouth lolled open. Her one arm had landed limply over her stomach and her other arm now dangled lifelessly in the air, off the side of the couch.
Digger was out cold.
I couldn't believe it, as I looked down to where my wrist disappeared into the open flap of her tight, black jeans. I fucked my finger into her a few more times, watching the material at her crotch revealing my hand's probing movements within.
I looked up at her soft-looking, flat stomach, where it was exposed between the bottom of her white T-shirt and the open waist of her black denims. I could see her belly button rise and fall with her steady breathing. It was an innie.
What do I do now? I asked myself. My wonderful first fuck of my life is unconscious. Dead to the world. Lifeless and vulnerable. Unable to say yes or no. Go or stop.
What was I supposed to do? I was no animal. I was no rapist. I knew what was expected of a gentleman in this situation. I knew that a boy should never compromise a girl who is incapacitated.
I pulled my finger from Digger's hot pussy now, extracting it from her pants and putting it to my nose, sniffing the alluring odor of the pussy liquor that was coating it. The sharp, girl-smell made my hard cock throb and my head spin with extreme lust.
I reached over, with both hands, and pulled her shirt up, as she just lay there anesthetized, exposing the untanned, white mounds of both of her pert little breasts to me. Her areolas were dark and small, surrounding large, erect, thimble-shaped nipples. I placed my hands over them, capturing their heated, delicate feel and squeezed and fondled them as I looked at her closed eyes and thought about what I should do.
I was a gentleman, I told myself. I knew what was right and what was wrong. I knew what was expected of me and what a gentleman had to do in a case like this.
I eased myself out from under her limp body and stood by the couch, looking down on her reclining, unconscious, curvaceous, lovely, feminine form.
Then I leaned down, grabbed the waistband of her soft, black denims and started to pull them down.
I had decided to go ahead and fuck her.
As I clutched and pulled and tugged at her pants, I realized that getting tight jeans off of an unconscious female was no easy task. She must have taken five minutes to pull these things on! And that was when she was awake and knew how to do it. Even though I was pulling and tugging for all I was worth, Digger's ass seemed to be wider than the waistband of the jeans and her thighs were thicker than the pant legs. Her ass was so much dead weight between the well-worn, tightly fitting material and the couch. After a few minutes of yanking and pulling and tugging, her denims were just going inside out and I had only managed to get them down to slightly above the fur-patch of her pussy.
I let go and rubbed my hands together. Thinking of just how I was going to do this.
I rolled her limp body to her side, facing the back of the couch, staring at her sexy, rounded ass as I tried to pull the back of her jeans down over it. I tugged until I could see the twin dimples, at the base of her spine, above the contour of her thin, lower back and then the crack between the cheeks of her soft-looking butt. Then I rolled her, towards me, to her other side and pulled her pants down a little more, trying to get the tightly stretched material over the deep curve of her hip. I could see the white of her bikini tan line as I pushed her warm, languid body to her back again and, grabbing the denim at her soft hips, yanked down still further. The dark, tangled hair of Digger's pussy appeared now and I pulled the thread-worn denim material down harder, making her sexy little bush slowly come fully into my view.
It was a cute, perfect, small triangle of jet-black, soft-looking hair and the breath caught in my throat as I stared down at it and tugged on her pants some more. Now the narrow space between her, supple looking, closed thighs appeared as her jeans rolled inside out but they were starting to give way now and come down. I could see her pink panties, tangled inside-out with the material of her black jeans. The crotch looked shiny and soaked with her secretions. I tugged down a little more, watching her fleshy thighs slowly appear as she lay, lifeless and unknowing, unconscious on the couch.
I was out of breath from the effort. Who knew it would be this much work? My back ached now and I dropped to my knees beside her limp body.
I stared at the alluring, fuzzy mound of her pussy for a few moments as I sat on the floor and regained myself.
Curious, I got to my knees again and reached over with the fingers of both hands and carefully spread the soft, furry lips apart. I could see the protrusion of her pink clitoris and its hood as I held open the notch of her sexual furrow and closely examined it. It was shiny-wet with her viscous, excited juices.
I leaned over and put my nose to her pussy, sniffing it and thrilling to the stimulating fragrance of her feminine sex. Then I pushed my tongue into the space between her pillow-like mons, licking slowly up and down inside of her slippery notch and over the warm, textured sheath of her swollen clit. I couldn't lick down as far as her vagina though because her jeans still shackled her thighs together.
I sat back and swallowed the thick pussy nectar that my tongue had collected, savoring her flavor. Digger's pussy tasted tart and sweet, like lemons and Canadian maple syrup.
I could feel my cock bucking in my pants now. Throbbing and stiff and ready to be enveloped by her hot, slick, inner passage. Aching to spew its potent load of sperm into this sexy, soft, curvaceous body.
I jumped up and pulled my pants down to my knees, freeing my cock which now thrust out from my loins, its tip oozing slick pre-cum over its mushroom-like head.
Reaching to her, I grabbed the material of her jeans again, determined now to wrangle them off of her, spread her legs wide apart and sink my hard, raging cock deep into her heavenly sexual hole.
In one hard, upward tug, her jeans pulled down to mid thigh. Another tug and I had her legs up at my chest and her pants pulled down to her knees.
Looking down at the naked, wide curves of her sexy ass, I could see the clam-like shape of her exposed pussy, between her closed thighs, and I knew that I could get to my knees and push my cock into her, even with her jeans still gathered around her shins.
Holding her legs up, I dropped to my knees and prepared to do just that, holding and aligning my cockhead to the sparsely hair-covered lips which beckoned alluringly to me. I thrilled as the burning head of my member made soft contact and I used the head to deftly separate her outer labia and I worked into her slickness and started to push inward, seeing the tip slip into her and thrilling to the slick, hot sensations.
That's when I heard the sound of a car engine approaching and then pulling up to the front of the cottage, its headlights suddenly illuminating the curtains of the windows and bathing the room in bright, white light.
I heard voices now, as the motor shut off and the lights went out, and the sound of a car door opening out front.
I dropped her long, sexy, lifeless legs and jumped up, pulling my drooping pants up to my waist and clutching the snap at my belly as I started running toward the back door of the cottage, hearing the car doors slam and then the voices drawing closer.
I opened the screen, losing the grip of my pants which began to fall down my legs as I stepped out and turned, stumbling over the back step and falling, ass first, off the side of the cottage steps and landing, with a hard thud, on the grass below.
I could hear a key in a lock and then the front door of the cottage open as I lay in the wet dew, below the open back window, trying to catch my breath.
It suddenly dawned on me how much trouble Digger was going to be in when the Millers found her laying there, drunk and unconscious, on the couch with her jeans down around her knees and her pussy exposed. If only I'd had time to...
"Amy?" I heard a woman's voice from inside the cottage. "Amy, we're back."
Now I heard Digger's voice. It was calm and cheerful and clear sounding as she said, "I didn't expect you guys until after midnight."
"Yeah, honey. I know. The second feature was a bore so we left early. Was Kim any trouble?"
"She slept like a baby."
"She is a baby," I heard Mrs. Miller say and then laugh. "Is ten dollars okay with you, hon?"
"Roger will drive you home, unless you'd rather walk in the dark?"
"No, Mrs. Miller. I’d rather he drive me, if he doesn’t mind."
I rolled on my side now and quickly fastened my pants. Then I crawled away from the view of any windows or doors and carefully stood up, brushing the moist grass from my clothes as I started to walk back toward my parents' cottage. I saw the light-blue Plymouth, carrying Mr. Miller and Digger, drive past me on the lower access road.
When I got back to the cottage, Mike was waiting for me. My folks hadn't yet returned from the drive-in.
"Well?" he said as I walked in.
I went to the refrigerator and pulled out a Coke and then I went to the drawer, looking for an opener.
"Well?" he repeated. "Did you do it? Did you fuck her? Are you still a virgin?"
I looked over at him, sitting at the kitchen table and anxiously awaiting my reply.
What was I to say to him? No, I'm still a sniveling cherry? I couldn't say anything. I couldn't lie to my buddy and I didn't want to tell him the embarrassing truth about my evening.
"What happened? Did you get some pussy or not?"
I didn't say a word. I set the bottle down and walked over to him, taking my middle finger and passing it under his nose. "What do you think?" I asked him.
Mike sniffed the strong, spicy, feminine scent of Digger from my finger and smiled and then he stood up, slapped me on the back and laughed.
Oddly embarrassed about the whole thing, I laughed too.
In the morning we hurridly packed the car, check out time being eleven o’clock. I wanted so much to go to the row of stands at the foot of the large municipal dock, to see if she was there, but I didn’t and we left for home just before noon.
I never saw Digger again but, as this story proves, I never forgot her.
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