Dedicated to Mary, from Montclair NJ – if you ever read this please get in touch. My God, over 40 years ago, how you rocked this man’s world!
Summer 1967, a time of burgeoning sexual energy and youthful exuberance. I was sixteen, playing guitar in a rock band that covered the Beatles to The Young Rascals. Most of you are too young to remember those days. The war in Vietnam was ramping up accompanied by street protests, Muhammad Ali was stripped of his title for refusing to join the army, and ‘The Graduate’ had young men everywhere lusting for Mrs. Robinson. Against this backdrop we took a family camping trip from the US east coast, past the Corn Palace in South Dakota, the Bad Lands, Yellowstone, on to California where my attempts at surfing were a complete flop. From there we headed east to Colorado where my Dad would attend a two week training class. In the Rocky Mountains, with their clean crisp air and icy cold streams, I met Mary.
At night the Colorado sky was awash with stars which even the flickering light of our campfire couldn’t diminish. My brother and I sat by the fire and watched shooting stars streak across the dark azure sky. Behind us in folding chairs, my parents quietly talked as I played my guitar and sang ‘Sounds of Silence’. Those who are musicians will attest, the guitar is a total chic magnet. This night was no exception as any number of young women wandered by our oasis of light and sound, lingering at the edges to listen, too shy to approach. What I remember about Mary is she was not shy at all. She walked right up to our family gathering and sat on the picnic bench facing me. As I played she watched and smiled, often closing her eyes, stretching out her long legs. When the songs ended we chatted about nothing. She said she knew the lead singer for ‘The Association’ and thought I was just as good. I thanked her for the compliment but inwardly doubted its accuracy. Then she said, “See ya,” and wandered off into the night.
I awoke the next morning as trembling shook plates on the table and me in my sleeping bag. It was my first experience of an earthquake and while it didn’t cause damage, it was a really strange feeling. Who knew the day would be full of those.
After a quick shower and breakfast, I was helping clean dishes when Mary walked over to our campsite. She gave a little smile and wave as she approached, her shoulder length auburn hair swaying as she walked, shining with sunburst hints of blonde and red. Mary was probably five foot six, slender with long legs. Her skin was tanned by the summer sun and freckles danced along her arms. She wore an aqua blue bikini top under a man’s shirt knotted at the waist, with a colorful beach towel wrapped around like a skirt. She could have been returning from a dip in the creek, but her skin was dry. Her cheerful greeting was a welcome reprieve from morning chores.
“Good morning. How’d you like that trembler earlier?”
My mother responded, “Was that an earthquake? My gosh, we don’t get those back in Virginia.”
“Rocked me right out of bed,” I added.
“Yeah, that was something! Good news, nothing at our site was broken – how bout you guys?” Mary asked.
“No, nothing broken here either,” I said.
“Say, you want to take a hike up the mountain?” Mary asked pointing off toward the tree covered slope that rose behind the sparsely scattered campsites.
“Mom, would it be OK if I go?”
“Sure, Greg, I can finish up.”
“Cool – thanks.”
Mary and I walked through the campgrounds toward the foot of mountain. We discussed the usual things; that she was 19 and I was 16 (gotta love an older woman). She attended a small college in New Jersey, but was here for a family vacation. She was a preacher’s daughter – really, no joke – but she wasn’t into religion. And yes, she really did know the lead singer for The Association.
“So are you the Mary of ‘Along Comes Mary’ fame?”
“No,” she laughed, “I don’t know him that well.”
We started our trek, winding among fir trees on a meandering path that seemed to tack against the incline. As we climbed Mary took my hand when the way grew steep or we had to maneuver a fallen tree. I was in cut-off jeans and a tee shirt but could feel the heat of the morning sun as we continued up the slope. We’d climbed for almost 30 minutes and now stood several hundred feet up the side of the mountain, barely able to see the campground below through the trees. There was a fairly level spot just ahead, shady and cool with a bed of pine needles.
“Mind if we stop for a minute?” Mary asked, still holding my hand.
“Sure.”
I turned toward her and noticed tiny beads of sweat dotting her upper lip and her cleavage. Mind you, I had never seen a woman’s breasts except in pictures (mostly National Geographic), so the physicality of those droplets was arousing. She seemed to sense my fascination as a smile flashed across her face. She dropped my hand and put her arms around my neck, pressing her body against mine as we kissed. Now I had kissed a girl before (and I liked it), so I was not a total newb. The salty taste of sweat on her lips mingled with the sweetness of her mouth. As her tongue played with mine she ran her hands down my arms, caressing my back. I have to admit, the sensation of her touch had me awestruck and I must have seemed frozen.
She broke the kiss and stepped back smiling. “Looks like somebody enjoyed that,” she said glancing at the bulge in my shorts.
I blushed and stammered, “Oh gosh…sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? It’s a compliment to a lady when her kisses get a man excited. It gets me excited too, and hot!” She untied the shirt and let it slip off her shoulders. “Kiss me again.”
It wasn’t a request. Given raging youthful libido, no further urging was required. I held her in my arms and we kissed for several minutes, my mind reeling at the sensation of this beautiful woman’s breast pressed against my chest, her groin rubbing against my erection. Her fingers moved through my blonde hair and along my back. She grasped the bottom of my tee shirt and lifted it over my head, only then breaking our kiss.
“Undo me,” she said as she dropped my shirt on the ground. What did she mean I wondered? Could she really mean undo her top? She turned her back to me and I came up behind her. I slid my arms around her waist and touched the warm flesh of her belly. Soft, almost transparent hairs seemed to quiver with my caress. I was kissing her neck, her shoulders. She gently took my hands and placed them on her breasts, still encased in that bikini top. Oh my God! I was touching her breasts! Sure they were clothed, but I could feel her nipples through the fabric. As I slid my palm across them she moaned softly.
“Undo me,” she said again. I fumbled for a few seconds but got the hang of that bikini catch and slipped it off. She turned to face me smiling in sheer delight at the astonished look on my face.
“Haven’t you ever seen a woman’s breasts?” she asked. Her tone was not condescending, but more like a teacher encouraging an eager student.
“No, never.” The scene must have been comical. Me, standing bare-chested before her, staring at her beautiful breasts, my mouth agape. They were not too large, the size of a large orange and milky white. The contrast of her tan made them seem radiant. Her small areolas were highlighted by pink, rosebud nipples. I reached out tentatively but before my touch had landed she took my hand and pressed it against her breast.
“Now, I want you to play with my nipples. That’s right, rub your palms over them, pinch them a little, but not too hard. See how they like the attention, how they get hard and stick out? Just like your cock, when a woman gets aroused her nipples get hard,” and she ran her hand along my erect penis. I know every man out there will swear it never happens to him, but it took ever bit of effort not to cum in my jeans as her fingers teased the length of my cock.
“Kiss my breasts and let your tongue tease my nipples,” she said. Never let it be said I was a reluctant student. Again I tasted the salty flavor of her sweat as my tongue flicked across each nipple. She held my head and pressed my mouth against her. I sucked and licked her breasts moving from one to the other as my hands caressed her ass. She released me and stepped back again, this time to undo the towel from her waist and lay it on the ground. The deep red rose patterned fabric made an inviting bed against the musty earth and pine needles. I caught my breath as she slipped her fingers into the side of her bikini bottom and slid it over her hips, letting it fall to the ground. Again, I stood in awe grateful to whatever deity had blessed my luck this day. Her hips were small but showed the curves of a woman. Her pubic hair was a little lighter in color but had similar blonde traces. It appeared almost downy and there was the smallest hint of moisture where her pussy lay hidden. She knelt on the blanket and motioned me over.
“You don’t look too comfortable. Let me help.” She unzipped the shorts and tugged them off. She ran one finger down my cock, still imprisoned in underwear. A tremor ran through me and I lifted my face to the sky as she slipped off the last of my clothes and I stood naked before her. Her hands moved along my thighs, caressing my butt and down the back of my legs. My cock was at attention in front of her and I dared not move. What was expected? Do I kneel down with her? Do I touch her hair, her face? I wanted to. I wanted to touch her face, her hair, her breast, her belly, that wonderful place of secret delight between her legs which I’d heard about but never before seen. To my complete and utter amazement she extended her tongue and ran it from the bottom to the top of my throbbing cock.
You know how in porno she’s bobbing up and down on the guy for like ten minutes while he’s smiling saying incredibly witty things like “Oh yeah baby, suck that cock.”? Not in real life, and certainly not for a virgin young man experiencing his first caress by a woman. I groaned and exploded. Mary sensed it coming and had leaned back, but my cum shot up, landing on her breasts, dripping down her belly.
“Oh Shit! I’m sorry. Jesus! I can’t believe… I’ve never felt… Oh shit!”
She giggled slightly and smiled as she wrapped a hand around my twitching cock, “Don’t ever be sorry about cumming. Pleasure is what’s all about, babe. And now, you’ll last longer the second time.”
“Second time? You mean there’s more?”
“Oh yes, there’s so much more,” she said with a wicked little grin and she pulled me down on the makeshift bed.
Via: https://www.lushstories.com/stories/first-time/along-comes-mary-part-1