This fine fanny is better than…
Coffee in the morning!
And here is something else to wake you up…
“Strawberry Blonde Forever “
In the Age of Aquarius and Free Love, a young man has his first experience with taboo of social sex. As he waits his turn, he recalls the sexual experiences and broken taboos which brought him to this moment.
A coming of age story about a young man’s dreams and experience with forbidden desires.
“Mark, I’m ready for you,” Diane Waterford said, through the closed bedroom door.
Gently, as if I might be disturbing a sleeping occupant, I turned the knob and opened the door. Having peered through the window, I recognized her room. It was rather small, containing a twin-sized bed, dresser, night stand, and desk.
Diane’s clothes were arranged on the desk chair as if it were wearing them. However, they were in reverse order. The bottom layer was her Oxford shirt draped over the chair back. The top layer was her bra. The shoulder straps were also hooked over the chair back. The gray tweed skirt she had been wearing flowed across the chair seat. Her white tights were on the chair seat, atop the skirt, with the legs cascading down to the floor where her shoes were. Her pink panties were neatly displayed on top.
The presentation implied she was now naked. However, sight alone could not confirm this. She was kneeling on her bed with the sheet drawn up to cover her shoulders. I could see her only from the neck up. For all I knew, she might be wearing pajamas.
“It’s your turn,” she wet her lips, “to get undressed.”
I lost no time in stripping. My cock was already standing at attention, waiting for my command to insert. With each article of clothing I shed, she allowed the sheet covering her to slip lower. When I dropped my shirt, she exposed her breasts. And, they were wonderful breasts. While not quite as large as the real Barbi Benton’s, they would make any woman proud.
As I dropped my underwear, I decided the fully erect cock was an asset in this situation, not something to be concealed. I watched her eyes fixate on the appendage jutting out from my groin. She let go of the sheet and revealed the triangle of curls below her belly. This mat of hair was slightly lighter in color than her blonde hair. It had a pinkish hue; I finally understood the meaning of strawberry blonde.
The curious expression on her face surprised me. The current situation attested to her promiscuity; however, I doubted the rumors about her excessive promiscuity were true. I wondered what favor Jocko had done for her to illicit this invitation from her. Yet, the fact Diane was hosting us was confirmation that she did not have a steady boyfriend.
This was my first experience with social sex. While these parties were still a bit of a taboo, in the Age of Aquarius and Free Love group sex was acceptable and not a reflection of extreme promiscuity. Even backwoods Montana had hippie communes where, as portrayed in the movie Easy Rider, everyone shared everything—everything. At least, those were the rumors. For my generation, this only meant Diane was a popular girl.
I stepped forward, and placed a knee on her bed. Her eyes were fixated on my jutting member. Perhaps my stepfather’s assessment of my woody’s size, and its effect on women, had been correct.
“Your socks too,” she said. “Please.”
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