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How far off I sat and wondered...
How far off I sat and wondered...
How far off I sat and wondered…
I was listening to a Bob Seger CD the other day, kicked back sipping on a glass of Shiraz. Night Moves started playing and one of the lines in it, “I awoke last night to sound of thunder…,” reminded me of my first time. For those of you who have never experienced watching a lightning storm out over the sea from the beach at night, I highly recommend that you put it on your to do list as one of those things you want to experience in this lifetime. It is truly awesome.
I grew up on the beaches of Virginia and was what was commonly referred to locally as a surfer. This story starts during early fall just before my fourteenth birthday when I figured out that my penis had much more value than just being able to pee. It started out as a typical shower one Saturday morning and ended up, quite by accident, as a blissful event that started my emergence into manhood. The following summer I had the fortune of getting out of Virginia and visiting my sister in California who lived just north of San Francisco. While she was nine years my senior, most people who are twenty-five really don’t have the same supervision issues that one might have been accustomed to with their parents. Mine was no different. As a result, a new found friend and I decided that we would hitch up the Pacific Coast Highway to Big Sur and spent some time up there camping. I was a big boy at the time and could just have easily been seventeen as fourteen. My friend was a next door neighbor to my sister and had recently turned eighteen.
After an interesting day of cheep wine and a joint or two with two guys from Maryland driving in a Volkswagen Beatle, we arrived at a campsite just off the highway where we ended up making our home for the next six weeks. The campground was packed full of kids and families, some there for weekends and some there for longer periods. On the second evening I was walking along the beach and struck up a conversation with a group of similar age who were hanging out by a campfire. The beach was at best ¼ of a mile from the main campground, across the highway and down the rock embankment. There was a young lady with that group who caught my eye who was also staying at the campground. She had a tent set up on the beach and would often stay there reading or just hanging out. She was sixteen and had a sweet, soft look about her. My problem was that with my new found erections every time I saw her I literally turned as hard as the rocks.
I do not remember that girl’s name, but we became friends that summer and I have some very fond memories of her and Big Sur. She taught me how to whistle with my fingers and laughed when I couldn’t do it. She taught me how to kiss, I mean really kiss. She would smile when an amazing hard on would emerge. I did not have a clue what to do with this girl.
One evening after dinner we both found our way down to the beach as the sun was setting over the Pacific. We were in her tent and she leaned over and kissed me; slowly at first and then more passionately. She was wearing her bikini bathing suit with a tee over top. She stood up; took off her shirt and top; and then proceeded to step out of her bottoms. There she was in her glorious splender, gorgeous and ripe. She kneeled down in front of me and put her hands on both sides of my bathing trunks. I lifted up as she pulled them off my legs. She proceeded to walk back around me, sit down and place her legs on the outside of mine, in a “V” shape. I was sitting, facing the front of the tent with my legs extended outward and she was sitting behind me with her legs out to my sides. She inched as far forward as possible and I felt her breasts on my back and her pussy against my buttocks. As we were still sitting upright, she reached around my chest with her left arm and pulled me back closely against her body as she kissed my neck and rubbed my torso with her other hand.
She felt like a pillow up against me as she placed her feet on the inside of my thighs and gently separated my legs as far as they would spread. She massaged my thighs with her feet and started slowly grinding her crotch into the cheeks of my ass. I could feel her getting wetter as she slid gently up and down against my back. I was dripping and had not even been touched yet. She pulled in as close as she could get, reached around me with her right hand and began masturbating me. I held off as long as I could, but gave into her as she ran her entire palm and wrapped fingers up and down my shaft until I spewed upward and all over our legs. I’m not positive if she ever got herself off that night, but I do know that she did not go away unsatisfied. We must have repeated that scene or something like it twenty-five times that summer as I became more and more confident. A hundred times would not have been too much.
The time had come to head back to San Franciso and then eventually back east. On our last night together there was an infrequent lightning storm out over the Pacific. That night, with the cool breeze blowing off the ocean, with the lightning brilliantly lighting up the sky as it crashed into the water miles offshore, and the smell of the campfire drifting past, I lost my virginity. Oh, how sweet the feel of being inside this beautiful young woman with her legs spread wide and high as I pumped rhythmically up and down; slowly savoring each movement in and each withdrawal out. The pleasure on her face as she rubbed my chest and everything around us was mystical. She came with me that night.
I do not know her name, but wanted to say thanks all these years later for all that you taught me that summer. I can only hope that you enjoyed that summer as much as I did. For a boy from back east I know how good a California girl can be.
“I awoke last night to the sound of thunder; how far off I sat and wondered. I started humming a song from 1962; ain’t it funny how the night moves…” And some people think rock-n-roll is dead. Not in this boy’s heart.