Harold Carter sat alone at one of
the smaller tables set against the back
wall of Captain Jack's, nursing the
still half full glass of beer he'd
ordered a half hour before. Up
on the stage at the other end of the
bar,
a singer was performing Gilbert
O'Sullivan's hit from last year, 'Alone
Again,
Naturally,' a song that accurately
described how his night was going. In
fact, it pretty much described how his
entire week had gone. Spring
Break in
Fort Lauderdale
was
supposed to be about cutting loose and
getting lucky, or so all the magazine
articles said. From
the sandy haired
nineteen year old's perspective, he had
as much of a chance of scoring tonight
as
Senator McGovern had of beating
President Nixon last November.
Five nine, with an average build
and
equally average looks, Harold had
enjoyed mixed success with girls back in
high
school.
He'd dated a few girls his first
few years, but none of those
relationships lasted long enough to get
serious.
Senior year, however, he thought
he’d hit the
jackpot when Susan Adams not only made
it clear early on that she wanted to go
steady, but before the year was out had
gone all the way with him – twice.
It wasn't until he'd gone home to
Blue Ridge
Falls
for the Christmas holidays that Harold
realized his success with Susan had been
due more to her desire to have a
boyfriend – any boyfriend – than his
charms.
In the few months he'd been away,
he'd been replaced both in Sue's
affections and undoubtedly in her bed.
Tony Hamilton, who worked at
Mitchell’s Hardware, might not have
gotten
a scholarship to some fancy out of state
college, but he was there every Friday
night.
And as far as Susan was
concerned, that was what mattered most.
In the seven months since he'd
started at
Northern
Georgia
State
,
Harold hadn't so much as been on a
coffee date.
A small college, at least
compared to its more well known
neighbors, the
school had a male to female ratio more
than two to one. A
fact that elevated girls who might have
only been a five elsewhere to an eight
or nine, along with the expectation that
they could be more choosy in deciding
who to grace with their company. It
was a situation that seemed to have
followed him down to
Florida
.
"How come you’re not sitting up
front there with your friends?" a
soft but unfamiliar voice to Harold's
left asked.
It took a moment for Harold to
realize the question had been addressed
to him.
Turning in the direction of the
voice, he found a woman in the black
slacks and white pirate blouse that
served as the costume for all of Captain
Jack’s Buccaneers. What
set the curly
haired brunette apart from the other
waitresses, at least to him, was that
she
was clearly older than the rest. Taking
a
guess, he thought her in her late
thirties, or perhaps even as old as
forty –
which to him was pretty old. After
all,
his mother was forty-two.
She had a pleasant smile and
bright
blue eyes, but for the most part, the
word that came to mind in describing her
looks was ordinary. Not
that he meant it
in a bad way, but simply that if he'd
passed her in the street she'd hardly
draw his attention – at least not for
her facial features.
The view a bit lower, however,
was a
different story. Filling
out the low cut
blouse was a bust that had to be at
least thirty-eight inches, barely
contained
by the tight fitting top. None
of the
other servers came anywhere close; in
fact, Harold couldn't remember ever
meeting a girl who did.
"Excuse me?" Harold
asked.
"I asked why you weren’t
sitting up front with your friends,"
she repeated, motioning with her
head to a table only a dozen feet from
the
stage where four other young men sat,
accompanied by an equal number of
attractive young women, sat. "They
are
your friends, aren’t they? I
saw you
all come in together."
"Well yes, sorta," Harold
replied.
The quizzical look on the
waitress’
face said that needed a bit of
explanation.
"It’s just simple math, really," Harold
offered, only answering the first half
of her inquiry. "Five
guys, four
girls, who needs a fifth wheel?"
"That's just awful," the
waitress, whose name Harold now noticed
from
her tag was June, said. "What
kind
of friends do that?"
"Well, they’re not really my
friends,"
Harold said, now
explaining the second half, "at
least
not close ones. We
just all live in
the same dorm back at school. I
was sort
of a last minute addition to the road
trip."
"How was that?" June
asked.
There really was no reason for
Harold
to share the story, but then again,
there wasn’t any reason not to.
"Well, originally Steve Burke
was supposed to be the fifth guy,"
he said. "They
were using
his car for the trip down. But
he had to
cancel the day before they were supposed
to leave due to a family emergency."
"And if you all weren't, as you
said, really friends," June
asked,
"what made them ask you?"
"I guess I was the only one
still at the dorm that had a car,"
he explained, realizing as he did
how much like a loser that made him
sound.
"I see," June
said, glancing back to the table in
front where the four couples seemed to
be having a pretty good time. "Just
out of curiosity, who decides who
has to leave if you meet an odd number
of girls?"
"We draw lots," Harold
replied.
"Short straw leaves.".
"And how many times have you
had to do that?" she
further asked.
"Four," he
replied.
"And you've been here how many
nights?"
"Six," Harold
said.
"This is our last night; we're
heading back north tomorrow."
"Why do I have the feeling that
I wouldn’t be going too far out on a
limb if I were to guess that you’ve come
up with the short straw more than anyone
else?"
June commented.
Harold didn't have to confirm her
observation, the way he just glanced
down at the glass in front of him did
that
well enough. By
the third drawing he'd
realized that he should've avoided the
short straw, if only by random chance. His
fourth loss seemed statistically
impossible.
"You know you've been faked out,
right?" June asked, pointing out the
obvious.
"Yeah, I finally figured that," Harold
admitted, realizing now that the
drawings
had been rigged.
"These guys let you drive them
five hundred miles and …"
"Actually it was closer to six," Harold
automatically corrected her, realizing
as he did that the added distance made
no difference. "But
we took turns driving and they paid
for gas,"
he added, as if that made
it all right.
"You're too nice, kid," June
finally said. "Me,
I'd have skipped out on them
midweek and let 'em take Greyhound back
to school."
Then, to his surprise, June
reached
down and picked up his now warm glass,
replacing it with a full one from her
tray.
When he looked up, he was met
with
a broad smile.
"On the house, kid," June
said.
"Harold," he
said, figuring giving her his name was
the
least he should do.
"Do they call you Harry or Hal?" June
asked.
"No, they don’t," Harold
replied, the inflection in his tone
making it clear that he disliked either
diminutive.
"Somehow I didn’t think so," she
said before making a half turn in the
direction of the table that had
originally ordered the drinks on her
tray.
She paused a moment and turned
back to Harold, leaning down so that
only he could hear what she said.
"Let me share a little of the
skinny that goes on around here,"
she whispered. "It
might make
you feel a little better. Those
plastic
friends of yours might see themselves as
a bunch of Casanovas, but those girls
they've been buying drinks for all night
are townies, not horny coeds looking
to party.
The chances of any of them
getting into their panties are, well,
let’s just say I have a better chance of
waking up tomorrow and finding Rock
Hudson in my bed."
Then with a soft chuckle, she was
gone.
-=-=-=-
After finishing his drink, Harold
decided that just sitting here watching
everyone else have fun was hardly the
best way to spend his last night in Fort
Lauderdale. He
left a tip next to the glass that was
more
than what the beer would've cost, then
got up and headed for the exit.
It was a cool, clear night and
since
they'd all slept in that morning, Harold
wasn't the least bit tired. Noticing
the entrance across the road to the
boardwalk that ran the length of the
beach, he decided to take a little
stroll.
As he climbed the stairs, he saw
that a
number of other people had the same
idea, but once he'd reached the
boardwalk
itself, he was disheartened to discover
that most were couples. Still,
it was a nice night, so he mentally
flipped a coin and set off in a
southerly direction.
After about a half mile, he
wondered
if he had subconsciously picked the
direction opposite of most of the other
walkers.
The spot where he now stood was
practically deserted and leaning on the
railing overlooking the beach, he
studied
the bright full moon in the sky.
It was an activity he'd greatly
enjoyed as a kid, having spent many a
night out in the yard with the telescope
he'd gotten for his thirteenth birthday.
The gift had given him a brief
surge in popularity among his
classmates,
at least until they discovered that he
actually was more interested in looking
at heavenly bodies than those that might
be glimpsed if you pointed it towards
the right window.
Eventually, he'd learned the
topography of the lunar surface so well
that now, even without his telescope,
he could find the landing sites of the
six lunar missions. Tranquility
Base was easy, but the
Taurus-Littrow valley, the site of the
final Apollo flight last December, took
a little more doing. As
he remembered
watching the last moon walkers on
television, Harold also recalled where
he’d
originally planned to be this week.
"Well, hello stranger," said
a now familiar voice from behind Harold,
interrupting his thought. "We
have
to stop meeting like this or people are
going to begin to talk."
Turning around, Harold confirmed
the
voice, finding June, now wrapped in a
light sweater, standing there.
"What brings you this far off
the beaten path?" June
asked,
adding that most of the tourist
attractions were back the other way. Her
own presence was explained by her
sharing
that she lived just down the road.
"Just enjoying the night air
and appreciating the scenery," Harold
replied,
adding that he normally didn’t get as
good a view of the moon back at
school.
"You did seem a bit lost in
thought when I came up behind you,"
June observed. "I
wasn’t
sure if I should disturb you."
"Oh, it was nothing important," Harold
smiled.
"I was just thinking that they're
going
to launch Skylab tomorrow, and if I’d
stuck with my original plans for this
week, I’d have been there to see it go
up."
"That’s a rocket, right?" June
asked, having seen something in the
newspaper about it.
"Well, actually it's a space
station,"
Harold corrected her, "the
first American one. The
Russians put up
the first one, Salyut, last year. But
they
do launch it into space on a rocket, a
Saturn V."
Harold chided himself for his
response, knowing he had that idiot grin
on his face that he got when he talked
about the space program. Both
back home
and even at school, he was always
reminding himself that not everyone was
a
space geek like him, interested in every
little detail.
June didn’t seem to have taken
offense at the correction, asking
instead if that was what he was studying
in
school.
"Well, I’m a general science
major,"
Harold replied, "although if I
could
work for NASA, that would be bitchin."
"Can you see the launch from
here?"
June inquired, sounding
genuinely interested.
"I’m afraid Cape
Kennedy is too far north
for us to see it," Harold
replied,
"almost two hundred miles."
"I guess I’m just showing my
ignorance," the
older woman
said.
"I really don’t know much
about the space program other than they
launch rockets from here in
Florida
. You’d
think that after living here for almost
a decade I’d have learned more about
it."
She went on to add that she’d
moved
to Florida
from
Chicago
after her divorce, wanting to make a
fresh start. She
couldn’t remember
exactly when, but it had been soon after
President Kennedy had been killed.
Harold had only been eight back
then
and only vaguely remembered the
assassination.
"You know, there's a much nicer
view about a quarter mile or so down,"
June mentioned as she changed the
subject.
"That is, if you were still
planning to
walk some more."
"Might as well," Harold
mused.
"Great, then I’ll walk with
you,"
June said, "seeing
as I’m going that way
anyway.
If you don’t mind the company?"
"Nah, not at all," Harold
replied. "Actually
glad for it."
They continued talking as they
walked, with June asking more about what
his life was like back in school, as
well as what kind of television and
movies he liked.
In a funny coincidence, both of
their most recent favorite movies
starred the same actor – Marlon Brando. In
Harold’s case, it had been 'The
Godfather,' a
film he had seen with his father, and
for
her it had been 'Last Tango in Paris,' a
film Harold had only heard about as none
of the theatres back home showed films
like that.
As far as television went, June
liked shows like Columbo and McMillan
and Wife.
Harold’s favorite show, when he
had the time to see it, was
the TV version of the movie M*A*S*H.
"I saw that once or twice, but
wasn’t that impressed," June
offered.
"I think most television
shows based on movies don’t last too
long.
After all, they don’t have the
stars that made the original film such a
hit.
Plus, there are some things that
you can say or do in movies that you
certainly can't do on TV."
"I have a feeling that this one
might be the exception to the rule,"
Harold suggested, knowing that he
was speaking from the heart and not
his head.
What June had pointed out was
true, and in the end M*A*S*H would
probably soon be canceled and forgotten.
She asked a bit about his
hometown
and his family, and if he had a
girlfriend back home.
"I used to, but not anymore," Harold
answered.
"What happened?" June
asked.
"What I guess usually happens
to a lot of couples after high school,
especially when one of you goes off to
college,"
Harold replied. "She
wanted a boyfriend that was there,
and not a four hour drive away."
"That’s too bad," June
said, trying to sound sympathetic, "but
I can understand where she was
coming from. Some
parts of a
relationship can’t be phoned in."
It was probably too dark to see
that
the last comment had made him blush, at
least Harold hoped it was. If
it wasn’t, June didn’t seem to take
notice
of it.
"No new girl at the college?" she
inquired instead.
Harold gave a much more general
recitation of his observation that with
guys outnumbering girls at school, they
were usually looking for more than
average.
"I don’t think I’d call you
average,"
June remarked after a
momentary pause. "In
fact, I think
you’re rather cute."
Before Harold could reply to the
compliment, June turned in the other
direction, looking at something in the
distance. Then she turned back to
Harold.
"Well, here’s the spot I was
talking about," June
said, stepping
past him over to the edge of the railing
to look out on the horizon.
Following in her steps, Harold
stepped
up alongside her and followed her gaze
out to where the full moon was reflected
on the ocean. In
his opinion, the view
really didn’t seem any better than it
had back at his original observation
point – in fact it probably wasn't as
good.
Still, if only to be polite, he
agreed how nice the view was.
They stood there watching the
waves
break along the shoreline for a minute
or so, then June unexpectedly said that
it was time for her to say goodnight.
"That’s me in that red and
white building just over there,"
she said, turning around and
pointing out the small two story
apartment
complex just beyond the road.
"Oh, okay," Harold
said, a noticeable regret in his voice. The
nocturnal stroll along
the beach had been the most enjoyable
part of his day. After
thinking about
that for a few seconds, he repeated it
aloud.
"Oh, that's sweet," June
replied, impulsively leaning inward and
kissing him on the cheek. "I
enjoyed
it too."
She started to walk away, the
boardwalk
at this point being level with the road,
then paused after going about thirty
feet.
Looking back over her shoulder,
she confirmed what she already knew –
that Harold was still watching her.
"You said you were headed back
to school tomorrow, right?" she
called
out just loud enough to heard.
"Yes," Harold
confirmed, wondering why she
asked.
"We're supposed to head out
about noon."
She seemed to digest the
confirmation for a few long moments,
making no effort to continue on her way.
"You know," June said in
the same tone, pausing a second to
glance right and left, as if to check
whether anyone else was around, "this
is
probably pretty far out there as ideas
go, but as they say, life is short
and nothing ventured, nothing gained."
Harold was confused and the look
on
his face confirmed that he had no idea
what she was talking about.
"So I was just thinking," June
went on,
"that, if you don’t find the idea
too absurd, you might stop by my
apartment when you finish your walk,
it’s 1C by the way, and
we could continue our chat." She
paused a breath then added, "Or
perhaps find something a bit more
interesting to do."
With that, she abruptly turned
her
head and continued walking, going
another ten feet before again looking
back.
"And just so you don't let
yourself think you're just letting your
imagination run away with you," she
said, now loud enough for anyone who
might have been within earshot to hear, "I
am
offering you the chance to get lucky
tonight. The choice is yours, but just
give me at least twenty minutes to take
care of a few things."
-=-=-=-
As June receded into the
darkness,
Harold stood there stunned, unable to
believe what he'd just heard. It
was like something out of those blue
movies the fraternities sometimes had
private showings of. One
of his cousins, who was a brother, had
invited him to a screening when he'd
first arrived on campus. It
had been an eye opener, as they
certainly hadn’t
anything like that that back in
Blue
Ridge
Falls
. Well,
at least not that he'd known of. His
Dad was a lodge member, and it wasn’t
inconceivable that things like that
happened there too.
Just on the other side of the
road,
Harold saw June reappear for a moment as
she passed under a streetlight by the
edge of her building. Then,
just as
quickly, she again passed from view as
she moved out from under the cone of
illumination, presumably entering the
structure.
'So what do I do now?' he
asked himself, feeling a bit asinine to
have even asked himself the question.
After all, he'd come down to
Fort
Lauderdale
to
sow
some wild oats, and here he was being
presented with an opportunity to do so
on
a silver platter.
Back in high school, Harold had
read
an illicit copy of "The
Graduate"
that was being passed around. Illicit
only
in the respect that neither the school
or town lobby would carry the book. In
reading the best seller, he'd been
enthralled
by the character of Mrs. Robinson, a
woman who by her own admission was twice
the age of the recent college graduate
she seduces. The
imagery of the book – he'd been too
young
to see the movie when it first came out
– had stayed with him for months,
especially
during some of his private nighttime
exertions.
No, the question really didn’t
need
to have been asked.
-=-=-=-
Even though it was already after
midnight,
Harold found three men sitting outside
the building when he'd finished
following June's path. Two
of them were
playing a game of chess on a small
folding table, while the third
alternated between
watching the game and listening to a
distant baseball game on a transistor
radio.
The spectator, older than the
participants, looked up at Harold’s
approach and, since he didn’t recognize
him, gave him a look that seemed to
challenge his right to be there.
Flashing a smile, Harold walked
right past them, wishing them a good
evening as he stepped up to the row of
bells and confidently pressed 1C. What
seemed
a long wait followed and during that
pause, the young man wondered if
perhaps he was the victim of a practical
joke.
For all he knew, June could've
walked right past the small apartment
complex and gone elsewhere. He
didn’t
need to turn around to know the older
man was boring holes in the back of his
head.
"Hello?" a
quiet voice said over the intercom, a
voice
too tinny to recognize.
"It's Harold," he
simply said, wondering what to do if the
next words were "Harold who?"
Instead what he got was a loud
click
as the solenoid in the door lock
disengaged and now he was able to now
turn the
knob.
With a soft sigh of relief,
Harold
pushed the door inward and stepped
inside.
The man behind him had already
lost interest, turning his attention
back
to both his games.
Once inside, Harold found there
were
five apartments on the first floor, with
1C being at the far end of the
hallway.
When he reached it, he saw that
unlike the outer door, the one to the
apartment was unlocked and already open
a
crack.
He took a deep breath and gently
pushed it open further, giving himself a
moment for his eyes to adjust to what
he could see was a semi-darkness beyond.
While the light was off in the
small
vestibule, it was still possible to find
your way beyond the threshold by the dim
light of an open room on the left of the
short walkway. Taking
a tentative step inward, he softly
called out her name.
"June?" he
said, a slight tremor reflecting a still
felt hesitancy.
"Close the door," he
heard her say from the direction of the
light.
Now satisfied that he was in the
right place, Harold did so, making sure
he heard the lock click into place
before moving any further forward. That
done,
he turned back around, expecting to find
a still empty hall. Instead,
he found a sight that took his
breath away as a second hall light
suddenly came on.
There, bathed in the soft glow,
stood
June wearing a short sky blue nightgown
that revealed more than it
concealed.
The top of her pirate outfit
had certainly put her breasts on
display, but it might as well have been
a nun’s
habit in comparison with the see-though
properties of the nightwear she'd
replaced it with. Large
thick nipples
pressed through the thin lacy material
and, as he shifted his gaze downward,
Harold
could see a thick dark bush through
equally transparent panties.
Time seemed to stand still as
Harold
stood transfixed, oblivious even to the
sound of his own heartbeat – which had
sped up considerably.
"Well, are you going to just
stand there and stare," June
finally
asked, once it was obvious that Harold
had been awestruck into
immobility, "or
are you going to
come in?"
-=-=-=-
As he passed June into the room
from
where the original light had come, he
found unsurprisingly that it was her
bedroom.
In the few seconds it took for
her to turn off the hall light and
follow him, Harold took in his
surroundings.
The bed was the first thing that
caught his attention of course. Simple
in
design, it had plenty of room for two,
he was glad to see. Not
willing to go to a motel, Susan had
screwed
him on her own twin sized bed, one with
a mattress barely wide enough for one
and a frame that he was worried at the
time might collapse under the weight of
both of them – especially in light of
what they were doing on it. This
bed, however, looked more than sturdy
enough for the task.
The rest of the furniture in the
room followed the same pattern as the
bed, a mixture of styles that seemed
more
functional than decorative. The
room
wasn’t exceptionally tidy, but neither
was it exceptionally messy, ‘lived in’
came
to him as the best way to describe it. There
were
a few articles of clothing tossed about,
most notably the waitress outfit
from Captain Jack's, draped over an old
wooden chair off to the side.
It was only when he took a moment
to
look at the chair that Harold noticed
the built in closet behind it, the one
with what appeared to be, on a second
look, two cloth shower curtains hanging
on a rod.
One of the curtains was
partially open, revealing a different
sort of clothing than the ones
haphazardly tossed about. Clothing
that almost
instantly replaced the exhilaration he'd
been feeling with trepidation.
"You don't live alone, do you?" Harold
asked, the focus of his gaze leaving
no doubt that he was referring to the
unmistakably male clothing hanging in
the
closet.
"No, I have a roommate," June
said as if it had no more importance
than the fact that the sun would be
coming up in a few hours. "But
if you're worried about being
interrupted, don't be. He's
not home,
nor is he likely to be in the next few
days, much less the next few hours. So
we're quite alone here."
"Boyfriend?" Harold
asked, not having seen a ring on
June's finger.
"No, not really," June
replied.
The look on Harold's face said
that this
time he was the one who needed more of
an explanation.
"His name is Sean, and he's a
trucker,"
June replied to the
silent inquiry, "one
of those guys
you see on the Interstate, driving those
big eighteen wheelers. In
fact, that's where he is right now, up
in
Georgia
making
a run.
And what the two of us are doing
is, well, I guess you could call it
cohabiting, that's as good a description
as
any.
We share rent, utilities, and
other
expenses – and yes, we also sometimes
share more than a
bed when the mood strikes. But
that's the extent of it. I
don’t ask where or with who he sleeps
while
he's out on the road, and he gives me
the same courtesy. So
now, if that's a problem for you…"
"No, it's not a problem," Harold
said. His
sudden concern that a boyfriend,
possibly
a jealous one, might show up at a most
inopportune moment, in which he would
quite literally have his pants down, now
seemed a bit silly.
"Good," June
smiled as she moved a few steps closer
to Harold.
"Now that we've got that
straight, and since you've already
pretty much seen what I have to offer,
don’t
you think it's time to show me what you
bring to the table, or bed as the case
may be?"
With that, June reached out and
undid his belt buckle as well as the
clip and zipper of his tan slacks. Before
he could even fully react, she had her
left hand down in his underwear, closing
her fingers around his cock.
"Very, very nice," she
said, sliding her fingers up and down
its
length, gauging its size. "You
know,
I would've been a bit hurt if I didn't
find it already hard," she
added with a soft laugh, "but
this will do just fine."
Withdrawing her hand, she moved
it
and her other hand to the sides of his
pants, sliding her thumbs under the
waistbands of both his slacks and the
boxers beneath. In
a quick motion, she dropped down on
bended
knees and
pulled both all the way down
to his ankles. Freed
from any restraint,
his engaged manhood sprang to attention.
"Very nice indeed," she
repeated as she rose back to her feet,
taking
a step back let him step out of his
pants and also remove his shoes and
socks.
Her hands again moved to his
sides,
this time grabbing the edges of his dark
t-shirt.
With equal ease, it too was gone,
leaving him
as naked as a newborn – that is, if a
newborn had a lightly haired body and a
raging hard-on.
Placing the outstretched fingers
of
both hands on Harold's chest, June ran
them across it and then down along his
stomach.
From there she dropped her left
hand to cup his balls, causing Harold to
let out a soft moan as she glided her
hand up along the underside of his cock
to the edge of its crown.
"I bet that ex-girlfriend of
yours misses going down on this beauty,"
June commented as she ran her
hand down it in the opposite
direction.
"She never … I mean," Harold
started to say reflexively, then
remembered too late that he didn’t have
to reply to everything June said.
The look on his face said what
his
hesitant response hadn't.
"No way," June
said in disbelief, certain she was
reading his expression wrong. "Are
you
telling me she never went down on you?"
Embarrassed, Harold just slightly
shook his head no, a reluctant reply
that caused June to jump to an extreme
if
wrong conclusion.
"Oh my God, you're not a
virgin, are you?" she
asked.
"No, I'm not a virgin," Harold
replied, quickly finding his voice
again.
"Not that I would've minded," June
responded with a predatory grin. "I've
never popped a young man's cherry
before.
I've heard it can be a lot of
fun."
"I'm not a virgin," Harold
repeated, knowing that his face was
again a bright red and this time there
was no darkness to hide it.
"Okay, I believe you," June
said.
"I guess you were just unlucky
enough to have a girlfriend who
didn't like giving head," she
added
as her eyes again surveyed his manhood. "Me,
I
love giving blow jobs."
Harold's reaction to that caused
another question to fill June's head.
"You have had a blow job
before, haven't you?" she
asked.
"I mean, you did date other girls
before, what was her name again, oh
yeah, Susan?"
Again Harold replied with
silence.
"Seriously?" June
asked skeptically. "You're
nineteen years old and you've
never had a blow job?"
Again, Harold just slightly shook
his head no.
He was being honest in that he
wasn’t a virgin, but behind that truth
was that both times he'd been laid it
had been with a girl who knew as little
about what they were doing as he did. Which was
basically what went where.
And as far
as the girls he'd dated before Susan,
well, he'd never gotten past second base
with
any of them. Well,
maybe shortstop might
be more accurate, because Janet Price
had once given him a hand job, and, even
if she’d used a handkerchief to hold it,
it still counted.
"Well,
my young friend," June
said with
mirth in her voice, "it
seems you
are in desperate need of an education.
So let's get to it."
With that,
she led Harold over to the edge of the
bed and pushed him down onto the
mattress.
Then, standing over him, she
reached up and one at a time, slid the
spaghetti straps of her nightgown off
her shoulders, causing the thin garment
to slide down the length of her body –
leaving her with only the equally thin
panties by way of concealment.
"Sweet Jesus!" Harold
exclaimed loudly as her breasts came
into full view.
Full and
rounded, the mammoth mounds were capped
by thick nipples that stood erect in
the center of dark circles almost the
size of his palms. Discounting
brief,
accidental glimpses of his sister
growing up, they were only the third
set of boobs he’d ever seen. And
while
at the time he’d been highly impressed
by the two high school girls who had
let
him examine theirs intimately, neither
set could compare to the bounty now
before
him.
"I see
you're taken by the girls," June
laughed
softly as she the massaged both breasts,
rubbing her thumbs against the
stiff nipples. "Not
bad for an old
lady of forty-five, don't you think?"
That June
was a half decade older than he'd
earlier imagined went right past
Harold's
head, but would come back to him much
later when it no longer mattered. Right
now, it wasn’t the head on his
shoulders that was in charge.
But even if
it had been, logic and reason would've
been tossed aside a few beats later as,
without further preamble, June dropped
onto the open space on the edge of the
bed and leaning over the nineteen year
old, took hold of his cock and slipped
it deep into her mouth.
-=-=-=-
'Oh my God!' Harold's inner voice
thundered in his mind as he felt the
warm wetness of her mouth engulf his
manhood.
He'd heard guys brag about having
their girlfriends suck them, about how
incredible it felt. Yet,
up until this moment, he'd always felt
they'd been exaggerating. Now,
if
anything, he felt like their claims had
been vastly understated.
The sensation of June's lips
sliding
up and down the sensitive skin of his
cock produced a thrill he was having
trouble finding the words to describe.
Add to it the delightful
sensation of the tip of her tongue
rolling
along his length, and the task became
impossible.
Harold watched in fascination as
her
head rose up and down on his cock, her
heavy breasts hanging free and bouncing
against his body on the downward
strokes.
He'd never felt so hard before,
or imagined that a woman could take so
much of him into her mouth.
Not that he thought he was huge
by
any means, but Harold knew where he
stood in the size department. He'd
made enough surreptitious comparisons in
the high school showers and locker rooms
to know he had nothing to feel
anything less than confident about.
June let his cock fall free of
her
mouth, but not the hand she had wrapped
around its base. She
ran her tongue along the underside of
his
shaft, rolling it across his balls
before taking them in her mouth, one at
a
time.
"Oh yeah!" Harold
moaned loudly, a spark racing across
his body as the tip of her tongue now
danced across the underside of his
scrotum.
She took his length back in her
mouth, sucking it deep for what seemed
like forever. Her
tongue seemed everywhere, producing
unimagined delights, causing a familiar
pressure to build within him, one that
he doubted he could long hold back – not
that he really had any desire to.
June again let his cock fall from
her mouth, and this time she made no
move to reacquire it – at least not
initially.
Instead she slid off the bed
and stood back up, causing Harold to
fear something was wrong. He
needn't have worried as, after sliding
off
her panties, she turned her full
attention right back to him, in a way he
didn’t expect.
June took his cock in hand and
pivoted her body over his, dropping down
until the head was positioned right at
the entrance of her pussy. Then,
with a
broad smile on her face, she slid down
his pole until all of him was buried
deep inside her.
"Hell's Bells!" Harold
cried out, echoing a phase his
grandfather had taught him when he was
young, much to the annoyance of his
mother.
If June's mouth around his cock
had
been a bit of bliss, the feel of her
pussy was pure paradise. In
the small amount of time he had allowed
himself to consider the question during
his slow walk from the boardwalk to the
apartment house, Harold wondered how
different being with the older woman
would
feel as compared with his previous
experience with Susan. After
all, Susan had been seventeen years
old, and while he suspected he hadn't
been her first, she was just beginning
her way down that road, whereas June
obviously had a good number of miles
behind her.
As she rode his cock with
increasing
speed, the answer to his question turned
out to be not the one he'd
expected.
Susan, while pleasant, had
admittedly been an uninspiring lay –
pretty much having done little more than
spread
her legs apart and let him climb on top
of her and slide it in. June,
on the other hand, was proving a sexual
dynamo full of seemingly boundless
energy.
She shifted position so that she
was
actually rotating around his cock, even
as she continued to ride it back and
forth.
She'd had him place both hands on
her upper legs, allowing her to use one
of her own to reach back to brace
herself against the mattress. Her
other
hand played with her breasts, squeezing
the soft flesh and hard tips.
After what seemed a long time
later,
she again shifted position so that now
both hands braced her, allowing Harold
to add the thrusts of his cock to those
of her body, nearly doubling the
pleasures he had been enjoying.
"That's it, baby," June
said between breaths, "fuck
me, fuck me good."
Experience told her that Harold
was
on the edge, and she still had a bit of
a way to go. Bringing
one hand back between her legs, she
began feverishly rubbing her pussy,
quickly narrowing the gap between them. By
the time the younger man cried out in
delight
at his climax, June was there to share
in it.
It was a small celebration, one
that
lasted less than a minute, but a
celebration nevertheless.
Drained, June collapsed into the
empty half of the bed, reaching up to
cup the back of his head and pull it
close enough for his lips to reach hers.
It was a pleasant kiss, Harold
thought, but at the same time
bittersweet,
as everything had happened so fast.
"I hope you enjoyed that as
much as I did," June
finally said a
long pause later.
"Absolutely," Harold
replied, trying hard to not show any
disappointment in his tone. "It
was
incredible. "
"Good," June
smiled,
"and I'm sorry I got a little
carried away. I
can't remember the last time I did
that."
"I didn't mind," he
answered, this time failing to hide his
mixed emotions.
"But you're a little
disappointed," June
said.
"No, not at all," Harold
insisted.
"Honey, don't lie to me," she
countered.
"I hate it when men do that. I
can tell you're a bit let down and I
don't
blame you.
I promised you a night to
remember and that's what you're going to
have."
"We're not done?" he
asked hesitantly.
"Certainly not," June
laughed. "Baby, any idiot can fuck;
all that takes is a hard cock and a bit
of stamina. But
now that we've gotten that out of the
way, I'm going to show you how to really
please a woman. That
is unless you'd rather just pack up and
go, now that you've gotten your rocks
off."
"Absolutely not," Harold
said firmly.
"Good, I knew you were a smart
kid when I first saw you back in the
bar,"
she smiled.
Looking at that smile, Harold
wondered if she had been planning this
back when she'd left him that free
beer.
He proved himself as smart as
June
suggested he was by not asking if she
had.
Sometimes it was better to just
go with the flow and see where it took
you.
-=-=-=-
June suggested that they take a
few
minutes to clean up and catch their
breaths.
She offered him first crack at
the tin framed shower in the small
bathroom, a courtesy he greatly
appreciated once he felt the hot water
wash
over his body. When
she had first
mentioned the shower, Harold had thought
she intended for the two of them to
share one, a particular fantasy of his,
but once he saw the size of it, he
realized that would've been impossible.
There was more room in a phone
booth than in the cheaply made
enclosure.
It wasn’t until he was just about
finished washing himself off that Harold
realized that June was watching him
from the doorway. He'd
only pulled the
shower curtain halfway closed, just
enough to keep the spray from splashing
out
onto the floor, which had left just
enough of a view for her to see him. The
idea that she was watching him bathe
gave
him an unexpected thrill.
As they changed places, their
bodies
brushing against each other in the small
room, Harold wondered if June expected
him to watch her as well. He
didn't want
to ask because he felt, regardless of
the answer, just voicing the question
would make him look like an idiot. So
he
was greatly relieved when, after turning
the water back on, the barmaid made no
attempt to close the curtain at all. If
that
wasn't a sign, Harold didn’t know what
was.
Figuring he might as well get
comfortable, he
sat down on the toilet seat, only a few
feet away from the shower. June
flashed him a quick smile, acknowledging
the correctness of his choice, then
turned and reached for the washcloth and
a bar
of soap.
Harold watched fascinated as,
after
first wetting herself down, June soaped
up her entire body, spreading a thick
lather all over her breasts and then
down between her legs. She
tightly squeezed her mounds, arching her
head back with closed eyes, pinching her
nipples between her fingers. From
there, both hands ran down her stomach,
converging between her legs to wash out
the thick bush which had become matted
with the juices of both. She then turned
her back to the teenager, spreading
her ass cheeks and cleaning there as
well.
Finally, satisfied that she was
fresh as she could be, she turned the
shower knobs from their halfway
positions to full and rinsed away all of
the
soap.
"Did you enjoy watching?" June
asked as she stepped out of the shower
onto the floor mat, reaching for the
extra towel that hug on a wall hook.
"Yes I did," Harold
said with an excited smile.
"Gee, I never would've guessed," June
laughed softly, bringing her gaze a bit
lower.
Harold's cock had also registered
its approval of her little show, it was
already hard again.
"Looks like you're ready for
the main lesson," June
said,
matching Harold's smile.
-=-=-=-
June led Harold back to the
bedroom,
sitting the two of them down on the edge
of the bed. She
leaned inward and kissed him softly, her
lips barely brushing against his. A
second kiss followed, this one a bit
more forceful as the tip of her tongue
parted his mouth just enough to stroke
the edge of his.
By their third kiss, Harold got
the
message she was sending, that she wanted
to go slow and easy, with each step
leading to a higher rung on the ladder.
He now also understood the wisdom
of fucking him without any prelude –
it got the desire to do so out of his
system.
Now he could concentrate on
really learning something.
It wasn't long before they were
making out like the teenagers that one
of them still was. Inexperienced
as he might have been at the
more elaborate intricacies of being with
a woman, Harold had plenty of practice
kissing, something June appreciated.
She slowly eased him back onto
the
mattress, continuing to share kisses
while maintaining their embrace. Running
her fingers across his bare shoulder,
she continued across his chest, stroking
his nipples until they stood pert and
erect.
Her head dropped down, allowing
her to kiss each, even as her tongue
whirled around the dark pink circles.
She lifted her head back to his
and
kissed him deeply one last time, then
took his left hand in her right and
placed it on her right breast, rubbing
it back and forth a few times. The
softness of her flesh filled Harold with
excitement, even more than the first
time he'd touched Jenny Morgan back in
sophomore year.
"I want you to take it in your
mouth, just like I did for you,"
June said in an almost whisper as
she shifted position to make it easier
for him to do so.
Harold dropped down a little
further
on the bed, even as June took hold of
the underside of her breast and pressed
it against his mouth. Extending
his
tongue, the teenager ran the flat of it
across her areola before wrapping his
lips around her nipple and pulling it
into his mouth. Eagerly
he sucked at her breast like a
newborn babe, receiving a much different
kind of nourishment.
"Just a little harder,"
June whispered into his ear, dispelling
the need to go slow and gentle that had
been the norm with high school girls. "Yes,
that's
much better," she
purred a
few moments later once he'd followed her
direction.
She let him suckle at her nipple
for
a bit longer, then shifted his attention
to her other mound where he performed
equally worthily. And
through it all, he
was rewarded by June's soft moans of
encouragement and delight.
"Hmmm," June
said with appreciation as she lifted his
head and kissed him. "Now
I'm going
to show you how to use that talented
tongue of yours in a much better place."
June again took his hand and, as
she
rolled onto her back, guided it down
between her legs, placing it against her
furry mound. As
before, she started him
off, rubbing his fingers up and down the
length of her pussy. Then
she released her hold and allowed him to
proceed on his own. He
didn't make the
mistake he'd first made at her breast,
treating June as he did the virginal
teenagers he'd finger fucked before.
Slipping two, and then a third
finger inside June's pussy, Harold slid
them in and out as fast as he could.
"Oh yes," June
moaned, leaning back against the pillow
and allowing the tiny ripples of joy he
was producing to dance across her
body.
"Fuck me with your fingers,
get it good and wet for your cock."
But before she had his cock
again,
there was something else she wanted from
him.
"I want you to kiss me … down
there,"
June said softly. "Have
you ever done that before?"
The expression on his face said
he
hadn't, which was the answer that June
expected.
If he had gone down on any of
those girls
he'd dated in high school, it was a
certainty that they'd have done the same
for him.
Like many other aspects of sex,
Harold knew the mechanics of the act,
but really wasn't sure how to actually
go
about it.
"Go ahead, I'm
sure you'll do fine," June
said encouragingly as she again shifted
her body to give him better access to
her jewel.
"Take your time, and I'll tell
you when
you find the right spot."
Climbing down between her legs,
Harold looked in awe at her pussy, which
she had pulled open with both
hands.
Outside of photographs, he had
never seen one this close up. He
had
asked Susan to let him do so, but she
said she felt a little funny about it
and
said no.
"Just kiss it at first," June
said in the same soft tone, "let
yourself get used to it."
Harold did as she instructed,
kissing
it softly a few times, each deeper than
the last.
He reached out with his tongue to
taste her,
surprised that it was hardly the vile
gunk that he'd heard older guys claim it
to be.
In fact, it was actually rather
pleasant, made more so by the fact that
he could feel June's body react to the
caress of, first his lips, and then his
tongue.
Reaching out with the latter, he
slipped it past the folds of her mound,
sliding it in as far as he could. An
entry that brought forth a loud moan of
satisfaction from June.
"You almost hit dead center on
the first try," June
said as,
placing her left hand on the back of his
head, she directed him to a spot just
a little bit higher. Her
other hand
moved to the top of her pussy where,
using her fingers to spread it open, she
exposed her clit.
Harold had no idea what he was
looking at.
"This is my clitoris," June
said as it came into view. "Do
you know what that is?"
In his last year of high school,
there had been an attempt to introduce
sex education into the curriculum at Eisenhower
High.
It had been a total disaster, as
no teacher
really wanted to teach it and the school
board wouldn't spend the funds to
bring in a medical professional. In
the
end, some students came out of the class
more confused than going it. So,
no, Harold didn't know what a clitoris
was.
June quickly gave an explanation,
providing more information in two
minutes than Mr. Borman, who had drawn
the
short straw seniority wise and had
taught the class, had provided in the
four
hours it ran. Harold
wondered if Susan
and the other girls knew the things June
had just told him, or if they as
ignorant
as he had been concerning it.
Harold placed his index finger on
June's clitoris, or clit as she also
referred to it, and gently massaged
it.
When he saw the effect that had
on her,
he tried it again, this time with his
tongue.
Finally, he closed his lips
around it as he had done her nipples a
short
time before and began to eagerly suck on
it.
It took a little while for him to
get the hang of just what worked best,
but with a bit of gentle encouragement,
expressed
both verbally and with a guiding hand,
June got him past his awkwardness. In
no time at all, he was probing her inner
reaches
with his tongue, even as he put two
fingers back into her to add to her
pleasure.
"Oh, that is heavenly," June
complimented him a short time later, the
fact that she had withdrawn her hand
completely and now had both hands
interlocked
behind her own head saying more about
his improvement than any words. "You
get good at this and you can have
any woman you want."
Harold wasn't sure if that was
really true, but what he was doing
certainly seemed to please June, and
that
was reason enough to give it his all. A
good fifteen to twenty minutes had to
have passed as he sent ever increasing
waves of bliss radiating out from her
sexual core, rolling across her body
with
increasing frequency. A
passage
accompanied by equally repeated moans,
rising
in volume as well.
June definitely wasn't just
laying
there, as Harold remembered Susan doing.
Her body was writhing back and
forth on the bed in response to his
actions – all of which made him want to,
no, need to, please her more.
"That is so good!" she
cried loudly, her breasts heaving up and
down as she moved faster and faster.
"Lick
it,"
she called out even
louder.
"Lick my motherfucking
pussy!"
Harold had never heard a woman
speak
like that, but he found that it turned
him on to do so.
Suddenly, her body quaked
uncontrollably for several long moments,
catching the teenage lover by
surprise.
Nevertheless, he continued
what he was doing, even if he wasn't
quite sure what it was.
"God-fucking-damn!" June
called out as her body dropped back onto
the mattress. "I
can't believe you
did that."
"What did I do?" Harold
asked, fearful that he'd done
something wrong. "Whatever
it was,
I'm sorry."
"Sorry?" June
repeated as she lifted her head. "Baby,
you have absolutely nothing to be
sorry about."
She paused a second, then added, "You
really don’t know what you did, do
you?"
Harold's expression said no.
"You made me come," June
said in wonder. "You've
never eaten pussy in your life
and you made me come."
"I did?" Harold
said in equal amazement.
"Yes, you did," June
smiled.
In truth, her climax was less
than
the one they'd shared earlier, but
considering that she hadn't expected one
at
all or the fact that she'd never heard
of a bad orgasm, it was worth noting.
Glancing downward, June saw that
Harold's pride had deflated a bit while
he had been concentrating on licking
her pussy.
That would never do, as they
still had at least one act to play in
tonight's performance. She
quickly traded places with him on the
mattress, sliding her body down until
her head was between his legs and his
cock was back in her mouth.
It didn't take long to bring it
back
to full staff as she worked the same
enchantment she had demonstrated
before.
Not wanting to give up her prize
too soon, she went on for almost five
minutes, slowing down only when she
thought he was getting too close to the
edge.
"Now, I want you to fuck me," June
said as, letting his cock fall from her
mouth, she again filled the empty spot
next to him on the bed.
Harold was confused for a moment,
hadn't he already fucked her? Then
it
came to him, no, he hadn't. She
had
fucked him; there was a difference. Now
it
was his turn.
-=-=-=-
Climbing on top of her, Harold
brought his cock down between June's
legs, placing the head of it against the
center of her mound. A
soft sigh filled
the air as he pressed slightly forward,
parting her folds as he slid inside
her.
"Yes, just like that,"
June softly said. "I
want to feel
your hardness inside of me."
Harold continued until all of him
was inside of her, the wet walls of her
sex wrapped tightly around his. Slowly
he began to back out, withdrawing half
of his manhood, then sliding forward
again.
A motion he repeated time and
again, moving with determined precision.
"That feels wonderful," June
added in way of encouragement, "so
very nice.
Oh, yes."
He continued at that pace,
enjoying
the feel of her body against his almost
as much as she was enjoying his. He
kissed her neck, then her cheek, and
finally found his way back to her mouth
once more.
June returned his kisses just as
amorously, running her hand down his
back and over the cheeks of his ass.
After
kissing him a second and third time, she
whispered into his ear to go just a
little faster.
A wish which was as good as a
command, as instantly Harold began to
increase his momentum with each further
repetition – prompting even louder moans
of appreciation from the woman beneath
him.
"Yes, just like that," June
said,
"steady and deep."
It occurred to Harold that this
was
another difference between June and
Susan.
Not that he was giving it more
than a passing thought at this moment,
but
he couldn't recall her ever giving him a
word of encouragement, or even any
indication that she was enjoying what he
was doing at all.
"Oh yes, baby, just keep going
like that, it feels so good," June
moaned,
instantly dispelling any thought of
Susan.
Harold had no idea how long
they'd
been going at it, his cock pumping in
and out of her while they continued to
trade kisses. All
he was sure of was
that he'd never felt anything so good in
his life.
June had lifted her legs and
wrapped
them around his waist, shortening his
strokes but increasing their
frequency.
Her arms wrapped around his
back as she now urged him to go faster
and harder.
"Harder, harder, fuck me
harder," she cried out with abandon as
their bodies rocked back and
forth.
"Make me come!"
It was all that Harold had been
able
to do not to come himself. He'd
already
lasted far longer than he'd ever done
with Susan and knew the pressure within
him was already too much to hold back.
So, it was a great relief bare
breaths later when he felt June's body
again
quake against his, signaling the climax
he'd feared he'd be unable to give
her.
Her cry of delight had barely
reached his ears when he surrendered to
the tides within and exploded inside
her with spectacular force.
She held his head against her
ample
breasts, holding it tightly as the power
of their complementary orgasms washed
over them.
She continued to hold him as
they faded in intensity, long after the
last quiver of delight finally faded.
As far as Harold was concerned,
he
had no problem with that, pleased to
share the afterglow of their joining. Eventually,
weariness overtook both of them
and they drifted off to sleep, still
wrapped in each other's arms, not to
move
until almost mid-morning.
-=-=-=-
Harold was the first to awaken,
but
was content to simply hold onto June's
naked form until she too greeted the new
day.
"Oh my goodness, look at the
time,"
she said, having caught
sight
of the wind up alarm clock on the
table after giving her young lover a
good morning kiss.
"In a hurry to kick me out the
door?"
Harold asked, a touch of
disappointment in his tone.
"Not at all," June
replied, emphasizing her answer with a
second kiss, "but didn't you say
that you and your friends were leaving
at noon?"
"Fuck them," Harold
laughed,
"they can wait."
June laughed as well.
The clock by the bed clicked
onward,
marking the silence as the two of them
continued to stroke each other. Finally,
Harold broke the stillness with a
question.
"June, do you mind if I ask you
something?" Harold
asked,
"it’s probably a bit personal."
"A bit personal?" June
repeated.
"Considering the last few hours,
I have
to say I’m curious as to what you might
consider personal, so fire away."
"Do you do this often, picking
up young men and bringing them home?"
he asked after a moment’s
hesitation, one that was also reflected
in his
voice
"My, that is a bit personal," June
replied,
"I'm not sure I ..."
"I'm sorry, forget I asked it," Harold
quickly interrupted.
"No, it's okay," June
said after another moment's thought. "I
think I understand why you
asked.
You're wondering if I asked you
back here because I genuinely liked you,
or just saw you as another notch on
the bedpost."
"Something like that," Harold
responded, feeling a little ashamed.
June considered the question,
finding it delightful as she did. Most
young
men would've been satisfied that they'd
just been laid six ways to Sunday
and not cared how they'd gotten there.
"Well, I can't honestly say
that I've never brought a man, young or
otherwise, home with me," June
said after another moment's
reflection, "but
I definitely can say
it doesn’t happen often enough to say I
make a habit of it."
That made Harold's face light up,
as
June knew it would. She'd
answered his
question, and quite honestly. There
was
no need, she felt, to expand on her
answer and point out that in most cases,
when some youngblood caught her
interest, the back room at Captain
Jack’s
usually proved adequate for the
occasion.
"You know, I was just thinking," June
said, changing the subject. "You're
certainly going to have a hell
of a story to tell your friends on the
way back to school. So
much for being the fifth wheel."
"Yeah, like they’d believe me,"
Harold laughed, not even having
considered
sharing what had happened.
"Well then, we’ll just have to
give you a souvenir to show them,"
June laughed as well as she
tossed off the sheet that had
partially
wrapped around her and rose from the
bed.
She stepped over to where her
nightwear had been tossed, sorting
through the pile until she came up
with the
panties she had been wearing. She
held
them in her hand for a moment, then
let them drop.
"No, I have a much better
idea,"
she said, a mischievous glint
in her
eyes.
Crossing the room again, she
went to
the closet where Harold had seen the
male clothing earlier. Standing
on tiptoes, June began rummaging
through a pile of boxes on the upper
shelf.
Harold wondered what she was
looking for, but found his interest
distracted by the way her ass cheeks
were bouncing.
"I hope he didn’t take it with
him,"
he heard her say as she moved
another box aside. "No
wait, here
it is."
Harold couldn’t get a good look
at
the small box she had retrieved until
she turned around, and once he did, he
was greatly surprised. Which
was saying
a lot, considering everything that had
happened since the sun set last night.
He’d never actually seen one, but the
illustration on the box clearly
identified it for what it was.
"This will make your friends
sit up and take notice," June
said
as she removed the contents of the box
and set it up on the dresser near the
bed.
The Polaroid Land Camera was
one of
the great marvels of the age, Harold
thought.
Especially if you wanted to
take the sort of picture you couldn’t
take
to the drug store for developing. Not
that
he ever expected to meet a woman
willing to be in a photograph like
that.
"Jim is always into the latest
gadgets," June
said, assigning the
camera’s ownership. "I
thought this
was a waste of money when he first
bought it, but I have to admit, it has
proven entertaining. Especially
once he’d
bought a timer that lets more than one
person get in the shot."
The camera began to emit a
small
buzzing sound as the wheel on the
timer began to turn. As
it did, June rushed back to bed and
again
slipped under the sheet with Harold.
From the way she’d never
bothered to even look through the
viewfinder,
it was clear she’d taken shots like
this before and knew exactly where to
place
the Polaroid to frame both of them.
"Ready?" June
said as the timer reached the halfway
mark.
Before Harold could reply, June
glanced down at the sheet covering her
breasts.
On impulse, she pulled it down,
exposing them to the camera.
"Now, smile like you’ve just
had the best night of your life,"
she called out moments before
the camera flashed.
His eyes riveted on her naked
mounds, Harold had no problem doing
just that.
END
(c) Ann Douglas 2016