Note: I am not the author of this work.  He used an anon.penet.fi
address,
which has since been shut down.  I am posting this whole archive by
request
of an earlier message.

Personally, I believe this to be the best series i've ever seen on
alt.sex.stories.  Please, Enjoy!

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  This story is part of a series that I've entitled 'Seasons'.  The
series as it stands so far:

 1. Hazy Shade of Winter
 2. Summertime Blues
 3. Season of the Witch
 4. April Showers
 5. The Cruelest Month
 6. The Real World
 7. A Time to Cast Away Stones <still in the works>

Email is always appreciated.  In fact, it provides a large part of
my incentive to write.  :-)

Hawkeye
_______________________________________________________________________

  Do me a favor, and only redistribute this with the following notices
attached.

  Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance between the
characters herein, and any real people living or dead, is purely
because I draw from many sources, real and imaginary.  Chew on that.

(c) 1993 Pure Blue Enterprises.  All rights reserved.  Explicit
permission
granted for electronic re-distribution, without changes.


[v1.2]
                          Summertime Blues
                        (Part 2 of 'Seasons')
                             by Hawkeye

  Lisa was what you might call _the_ love of my life.  Not the first
or the only, but by far the greatest.  After we had our 'climactic'
encounter in February, we continued to see each other regularly.
Which meant "as often as before", with the difference being that we
were now seeing each other romantically.

  Although it was clearly an 'exclusive' relationship on both our
parts, we seemed somehow hesitant to actually declare it as such.  I
remembered all too well the incident with her previous boyfriend, and
so I didn't press the issue.  The months went by much too quickly.

  In May, the weather had turned balmy, and the school year was
rapidly winding down.  Lisa and I had begun to seriously consider the
long-postponed question of what we were going to do that summer, and
it was making for no small amount of friction between us.

  I wanted her to live on campus and work somewhere locally, which is
what I was planning to do.  However, her father was a big Wall Street
commodities trader, and he could get her a 'gofer' job on the trading
floor that would pay 4 times what she could make by staying.  I was
upset with her that she seemed to be placing "money" ahead of her
interest in me.

  Things between us got tense, and then openly snarling.  Before you
knew it, we weren't really spending time together at all.  We had
exams to study for, and it became easy to find excuses not to.  I
finally did stop by her room on the Sunday night before finals week,
but we ended up having an explosive argument, and she slammed the door
behind me when I left.  I went back to my room and glared sullenly out
the window until the wee hours of the morning.

  I remember finals week only as an undifferentiated haze of hot exam
rooms, filled with the constant sound of buzzing flies and flipping
papers.  I hated the whole thing passionately.

  I went home for a week, and spent some time with my hometown
friends, which cheered me considerably.  I suddenly wished that I
didn't have to go back for the summer.  But, I had already signed a
summer lease on a dorm room, because I had felt sure that Lisa
would change her mind.  I knew it was going to be a long summer;
every building on campus contained some memory of the time we
had spent together.

+++

  I got myself a job in the records office that summer.  It was
unimaginative work, and left my mind free to wander.  I began to
regret that I hadn't signed up for something like landscaping, so I
could work myself to exhaustion every day, then sleep like the dead.
Instead, I was up half of every night, indulging myself in futile
fantasizing.

  The weeks crawled past.  I wondered if I shouldn't start trying to
do something with my life, rather than brooding in my room every
night.
But what?  I didn't really _want_ to do anything else.  I wondered if
I would make a good alcoholic.

  Then, on a Saturday morning in the beginning of July--almost 2
months
after my last big fight with Lisa--I got a phone call.

  "Hi... Sam?"

  "Hi Lisa."  What to say?  "Ummm.  How are you doing?"

  "I'm doing fine.  How are you?"

  Well, I couldn't very well say 'dying by inches'.  So I said, "I'm
alright.  I miss you like a sonuvabitch, though."

  "I'm sorry.  Really I am.  I miss you too."

  "Uhhh, I don't suppose you could afford to come out and visit me?"

  "Well, actually, I can.  In fact, I'm at the airport right now.  I'm
getting a cab, and I'll be staying at the Horizon Inn.  I'll call you
when I get there, ok?"

  After I got off the phone, I went dancing around the room like a nut
case, jumping on the bed and punching the walls.  I ended up knocking
a hole in the plaster that Maintenance charged me $40 to fix.  Heh.

+++

  We decided to meet at _Charlie's_, a nice homey little restaurant
that we both liked.  She looked a little worn when she came in, as if
life in the big city didn't agree with her as well as it used to.  She
still looked delicious in her shorts and tank-top, though.  I suppose
I looked like a wolf that hadn't had its dinner, because the minute I
saw her, I wanted to take a huge bite out of her.

  She came over to the table by the window that I had occupied.  She
stopped beside me, hesitantly, as if she wasn't sure what kind of a
greeting was called for.

  I stood up and asked her, "Well, do I get a kiss?"

  She smiled, and gave me one.  Then she put her arms around my neck,
and gave me a better one.  A _much_ better one.  If we hadn't been in
a busy restaurant, I would have pulled her onto the table with me.  We
managed to sit down without such an incident, though.  Sigh.

  We talked about "stuff" as we ate lunch.  Meaning that we carefully
avoided discussing our 'disagreement'.  Things seemed like old times;
we made silly jokes, and played footsie under the table like a couple
of kids.  When the waitress brought our check, we thumb wrestled to
see who got to pick up the tab.  I did, but it wasn't as much of a
given as you might expect.

  Standing outside the restaurant, under the shade of the awning,
I asked her "So, what now?  Do you have any particular plans?"  She
said, "Well, there should be fireworks in Shaeffer Park tonight,
right?"

  "Oh, my god.  I _forgot_ it was the fourth!"  I smacked my forehead
theatrically.

  "I think you're too dumb for me," she said, "I'm going to have to
shoot you, and find someone else." She pulled out a squirt gun--the
one I bought her for her her last birthday--and nailed me squarely in
the face.  I caught her by the time she got to the street corner
though, and wrestled the offending Blast-O-Matic from her.  She put
her hands in the air, and I marched her down the street like the
criminal she was.

  I half expected somebody to call the real cops.

+++

  We took in the zoo that afternoon, then went for hot dogs and ice
cream in the park, just as the sun was going down.  We strolled around
the lake, and quacked back at the ducks.  Then we went down to the
bandstand, where they were warming up the PA system.

  We sat down under a big old oak tree that marked the edge of the
clearing.  I put my back to the trunk of it, and she sat down between
my knees, and leaned against my chest.  A few other people were there
already, mostly families with kids, to get seats near the fireworks
launching pad.

  After about half an hour, during which time we chatted quietly and I
nuzzled her neck, we noticed that the bandstand clearing had filled up
considerably.  There were lots of families and older couples, as well
as a few moon-struck teens together.  I didn't feel condescending
towards them, I knew just how they felt.

  Finally, the place settled down a bit, and the band concert started.
The music was patriotic, rather than romantic, but it got Lisa to
imitating the conductor, which made her wiggle pleasantly against me.
I slipped my arms around her waist, and squeezed her.

  As it was fairly dark by then, and we were a fair distance from the
lights of the bandstand, I wondered if I couldn't get away with a
little horseplay.  I slipped my hands under her tank-top, and rubbed
her belly.  She stopped conducting the band, but they carried on
nicely without her.  I pushed my hands upwards, until they cupped her
breasts through the cotton fabric of her bra.  I kneaded them gently,
and I felt her nipples slowly harden.

  I intended for this to be just a bit of friendly teasing--maybe, if
things went well, leading up to her spending the night in my room or
something.  But as I caressed the familiar shape of her body, I
suddenly felt just how _long_ it had been since I had touched her.
The scent of her skin was making me feel light headed, as I recalled
some of the more hotly intimate situations when I had had smelled it
before.

  I put my lips to the smooth skin of her neck, and began to suck
gently.  I began to knead her breasts more firmly, pinching and
pulling at the nipples to draw them out harder.  She inhaled sharply,
and made as if to pull my hands away, but apparently changed her mind,
and began to stroke my arms instead.

  All this while, the nearest people were about 20 feet away from us,
but we had the combined darkness of nighttime and the shadow of the
big tree to hide us.  Still, this situation was getting a bit risque,
to say the least.  If it wasn't for the music, we'd probably have been
detected already, between her occasional gasps and the rustling of
clothing.

  Meanwhile, I was getting more than a little aroused, myself.  I was
breathing hotly on her neck, and sucking at her earlobes, as I felt an
erection slowly rising in my pants.  It wasn't uncomfortable, yet, but
it was making my thinking pleasantly hazy, as desire began to subdue
logic.

  What I really wanted to do then, was take her off into some secluded
area of the park, and screw her until neither of us could walk.  But a
flaky and impractical part of my brain wanted to do it right here
under the oak tree, within shouting distance of the bandstand and
about
2000 spectators.

  I put a hand down between her legs, and tried to slide it down the
front of her shorts.  The waistband wasn't elasticized, though, which
made it all but impossible to do.  So I put both my hands down there,
and undid a button.  "Sam!" she whispered, turning to look over her
shoulder at me.  "Who's going to see?" I whispered back.  She
continued
to look at me uncertainly for a moment, but didn't stop me as I undid
the other button.  She then settled back against me, as I slid a hand
down into her panties, and began to caress her.

  The hair between her legs was somehow more downy than on most women
I have known.  Like the platinum hair on her head, its light texture
made it seem silky and unreasonably smooth.  I ran my hand luxuriously
through it, delighting in the sensation of it.  She stroked my thigh
absently as I drew little circles around her nether mound with the
tips of my fingers, and then traced the crease of her lips up and down
until they parted, wetly.

  I pressed a finger into her, and stroked her softly, in a way that I
knew would leave her aroused but unsatisfied.  She turned her head and
said over her shoulder, "Teasing me?" I nodded, and kissed her neck.
She relaxed against me, again.  I stroked her with feather lightness,
not nearly enough to really get her going.  Just enough to keep her
interested.

  As I stroked her, I whispered into her ear, so close that my lips
touched her earlobe, "I want to have you.  Right here." She shook her
head and whispered back, "No, I don't think so." I thought about my
line of argument for a minute.  And I began to work a little harder
with my fingers.  I said, "C'mon, nobody can see us here - you can't
see from light into dark".  She said, "I don't uhhh--" My fingers
were quite practiced at this, and I shamelessly manipulated her to
interrupt her train of thought.

  "You're cruel," she said.  "And wicked and nasty," I added, as I
took her earlobe in my mouth.  She groaned as my hand did things to
her that made her dizzy with lust.  I knew, because she had showed me
how to do them.  She laid her head back against my chest, and said,
"Ok.  What do you want to do?"

  Funny, I hadn't thought that far ahead.  Up until then, the whole
idea had been to convince her to go along with this crazy idea.  Now
that she was at least ready to hear me out, I didn't know what quite
what I wanted to to do.  Obviously, we couldn't shift our positions
too
much--most of what concealed us was the fact that we were backed up
against the trunk of the tree.

  "Let's get your pants down.  I'll lift you," I said.  She hesitated.
"You _really_ want to do this?" she asked.  I blew into her ear.  She
sighed in resignation.  "Ok," she said, "Lift." I put my arms around
her waist, and hoisted her off the ground.  She only weighed about 120
or so.  She slid her shorts and panties down around her knees.

  I put her down, bare ass on the grass, as they say.  Then she asked,
"How are we going to do yours?" I said, "They don't have to come down,
I'll just undo the front." So after a little fumbling, I got my jeans
undone, then pushed my undershorts down and out of the way, exposing
my rigid cock.  It stood out at a slight angle from my stomach, and
pressed against the warm skin of Lisa's back.

  I said, "Are you ready?  Or do you need to borrow my hand for a
while longer?" I grinned against her shoulder and she shook her head
in exasperation.  "I can't believe we're doing this," she said, "I
must be out of my mind." I said, "Well, not your mind, exactly." The
ridiculousness of the whole situation just seemed to come upon us
suddenly, and we both started to snigger helplessly, shuddering with
the effort of trying to suppress it.  She fell over sideways, laughing
and shaking as she lay on her side across my thigh.  The harder I
tried not to laugh, the funnier it seemed, until I had tears coming
out of the corners of my eyes.

  Somehow...eventually...we stopped laughing.  We were both out of
breath, and my stomach hurt from clenching it so long.  It seemed that
we had still somehow escaped notice, or at least I hoped that we had.
The band was still blasting out its marching music, and there were no
obvious signs of a SWAT team closing in on us.  I felt vaguely
surprised that we had gotten this far without trouble.

  But what I was really surprised to find out, was that after all
that, I was still hungry for Lisa.  As she sat up against me again,
still wiping at her eyes, I asked her, "Are you still game?" She
paused a moment, then said "I guess so... Yeah, I am." I said, "Ok,
then, let's go." I put my arms around her waist.

  I lifted her, then, and drew my legs together under her, so I'd have
something to rest her weight on when I let her down.  I felt her reach
down, take hold of my cock, and angle it outward from my body.  She
said, "OK, now down.  Slow." I lowered her inch by inch, and felt my
cock slide into her body.  When she was down as far as she could go, I
slid my hands up onto her flat stomach, and held her in place.

  I had only penetrated her a few inches--the position just wouldn't
allow for full entry while I was sitting up.  But it was still a
wildly erotic feeling, after months of abstinence.  I couldn't really
move my hips much with the tree against my back, so I began to move
her instead, by lifting her a little bit, and letting her down again.

  It took a bit of effort to keep it up for any length of time, and by
the time I started to get really hot and bothered, I was also aching
in my back and shoulders.  I kept it up, though, and the glow of
approaching orgasm gave me an incentive to tough it out.  Lisa helped
me by wriggling her hips back and forth, and in an outrageously sexy
little circular movement.

  After a while, gasping and sweating, I reached climax.  I ejaculated
into her, in painfully pleasurable strokes.  When I had finished, I
all
but collapsed.  Lisa lifted her hips up and off of my cock, and I let
her slide to the ground between my legs.  I discovered at this point
that my incomplete penetration of her had caused a small problem.
Most of my seed had spilled right back out of her, and into my lap.
The front of my jeans were soaked.  Oh well.  For some reason, I found
it hard to feel really perturbed at the moment.  I just hoped that I
wouldn't have to walk through any crowded, brightly lit areas on the
way home.

  While I was taking stock of this, Lisa was wriggling back into her
shorts.  When she had done that, I said, "That probably wasn't very
good for you, was it?" She said, "It's always good with you."

  "Liar," I said.  "I love you."

  "Besides," she added, "you can make it up to me tonight."

  "Ohhh, _twist_ my arm!" I said.  And we grinned at each other like
a couple of idiots.

  We skipped the fireworks.

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