In early 1971 I had the bright idea to invite Mary and Mikki to visit me in Hollywood. I wanted to see if it made sense for me to ask one to stay -- or whether I should move on. I worked in an all-male office of a huge bank -- but in a rundown part of LA. The Investment Operations Department across the hall was filled with women my mother's age -- who baked us cookies. Few opportunities to socialize at work, but there was a big city outside my door, and I was horny.
One of my mother's friends, Barb, had come to stay (my mother's way of being sure I was OK). Barb stayed in the one bedroom, and I slept on the couch. Mikki arrived for her visit to LA before Barb returned to Hawaii. Mikki slept in the other twin bed, and I continued to sleep on the couch.
Naturally, being a testosterone-infused young man in his own apartment, I wanted to fuck Mikki the moment I first saw her at LAX. But this would need to wait for Barb to head home, and she seemed to be enjoying her stay in California too much. I went to work each day, and Barb and Mikki would go sightseeing. They went to see a taping of The Newlywed Game. They looked at all the stars on Hollywood Boulevard, and giggled at the crotchless underwear at Frederick's of Hollywood.
On the weekend the three of us played tourist.
On Saturday Barb announced that she'd heard from a friend of hers in West LA. Would I mind tremendously if she had Sunday lunch with her friend? I told her that would be great, and that Mikki and I would drive her there, have our own lunch, and pick her up.
After dropping Barb at her friend's house, I drove Mikki back to my apartment. We'd have our "lunch" there. Mikki and I discussed what we wanted to do first, and I sped back to Hollywood as quickly as traffic would allow. We both sprinted up the flight of stairs to the apartment and into the bedroom. It would have taken too long to undress each other, so we took off our clothes as quickly as we could and fell onto Mikki's bed. She was soaking wet, and I was super hard. No foreplay needed. She was on her back, and I jumped on board and waited for the gentle hand to guide me to the right place. And then I filled her with my cock and continued to fuck until I came -- deep inside.
I saw a TED lecture recently where they discussed the duration of penetrative sex, measured from the moment of insertion until the time of withdrawal. Men said they wanted penetrative sex to last about 15 minutes. Ladies said they wanted it to last 20 minutes. Then they gave couples stopwatches and asked them to measure the duration of pure fucking -- no foreplay or after play. 5.4 minutes.
That first fuck was 0.4 minutes. But it was wonderful, and I can still remember it -- 50 years later.
The refractory period is "the span of time after having an orgasm during which a person is not sexually responsive." I'm told this period increases with a person's age. But here in Hollywood, in our early 20's, our refractory period was short. Very short.
I'd rolled off Mikki and lay beside her on the bed. Almost immediately she began to gently fondle my limp cock. It didn't take long for this to get hard, and I rolled back for Round 2. I didn't need the gentle hand of guidance -- the right hole was open and dripping with cum.
After another brief refractory break, I fucked her doggy style. There was a full-length mirror on the closet door, and we both enjoyed the show.
Just time to have a shower together -- I have always loved showering with ladies -- and a dash back to pick up Barb.
"How was your lunch?" she asked. While Barb had never married, she wasn't prudish. And she could see that I was wearing a different aloha shirt and smelled of Irish Spring.
A few days later Barb returned home.
Mikki and I walked to the Liquor Locker and used my charge account to buy Tanqueray gin, tonic, champagne, and those small doughnuts covered with powdered white sugar.
We'd sleep in different twin beds (they were too small for actual sleeping), and when we woke up, naked, one would join the other. Following a sweet, slow morning fuck we'd turn on the TV and watch old movies. We'd much on the doughnuts and sip G&T's. She'd fondle my cock, as before, and when I was suitably hard I'd get my legs over and screw her. Repeat.
About a week later Mary said she would be arriving. She had a job interview in LA, and I'd already invited her to stay with me. In retrospect I should have told her that Mikki was here (she knew about Mikki but didn't know that Mikki and I were having sex).
Mary and Mikki were surprisingly relaxed about the joint visit. They each slept in a twin bed, and I was back to sleeping on the couch.
On the second night of the double visit I was asleep on the couch -- in my jockey shorts, covered with a blanket. I felt a hand gently touching my shoulder and as my eyes opened, and focused, I saw Mikki standing above me -- wearing a nearly transparent white shortie nightgown. I'd not seen this before, as we slept naked. I still do.
"Can I join you?" she asked.
I lifted the blanket and scooted over on the couch to make what room I could. She raised her hands and pulled her nightgown over her head. Her warm skin felt wonderful against me and it didn't take long for me to shed my jockeys. Sex on the couch was great because I could use the armrest at my feet to help me thrust in the plank position.
It was clear we weren't going to be able to sleep on the small couch, so after we fucked she got off the couch, put her nightgown back on, and said "Thanks" as she went back to the bedroom. She left her scent on me, and I was pleased.
On Saturday I had the idea of going to Ensenada for the weekend. My Big Plan was to make a choice between the two ladies. In terms of personality, common interests, intelligence, and appearance I much preferred Mary. But Mikki, while a bit loud, was also bright and was good company. At this point I'd only given Mary brief, closed-mouth kisses. I wanted to know, once and for all, if it was possible to go further with her. I thought that if Mary would just let me, she'd be a great lay. And, quite possibly, give me (a newly deflowered virgin) the opportunity to do some deflowering of my own.
We drove south, spent some time in Tijuana, and headed to our hotel on a bluff overlooking the Pacific. It was what cinematographers call magic hour. I'd reserved two rooms -- one for each of the ladies. The three of us decided to go swimming and watch the sunset from the pool.
This was the first time I'd seen Mary in anything form-fitting. She wore a one-piece swimsuit, and her breasts were much larger than I thought following my sneaky glance in the Paris dressing room. I wanted, really wanted, to release them from her swimsuit.
After about 20 minutes and some shared playfulness, Mikki said she was cold and was going back to her room for a shower and to prepare for dinner. I stayed behind with Mary. Her room was close to the pool, so when she said she was now cold the two of us -- dripping wet in our swimsuits -- went back to her room. She opened the door and turned around. I don't think she wanted me to come in. Time for my "test." We were both only wearing swimsuits. I put my arm in the small of her back and gently pulled her towards me so that her boobs (in her bathing suit) were against my bare chest. And I did my best to give her a gentle, but sensuous, kiss.
Nothing.
She didn't squirm -- either with joy, or to get away. She did nothing. I stopped kissing and told her I'd go to Mikki's room. We'd meet in 90 minutes or so for dinner.
I knocked on Mikki's door. She was wearing the hotel's white robe and told me she was getting ready to have a warm shower. I asked if I could join her, and we filled the 90 minutes before dinner with standing doggie sex in the shower, and relaxing side spoon on the bed.
At dinner, and the next day as we drove back to LA, Mary acted as though nothing had happened. Nothing did. She was fine with that. Mikki and I dropped her off at LAX for her flight back to New York. She gave me one of her sisterly kisses. I never saw her again.
Mikki was in the class of 1971, now in the second half of her senior year. We were the same age, but I skipped the second grade. I was told I was "gifted," and have laughed about that expression ever since.
I told Mikki that she needed to move to LA and marry me in the late spring -- a few months before her graduation -- or I would start sampling the delights LA had to offer. In retrospect, how hugely unfair of me. And what delights? There were certainly none in or near my office. But this was 1971 and I lived a couple of blocks from Sunset Strip. There were lots of dirty, braless hippies there -- and I like showering with ladies.
Mikki agreed to my suggestion, and she made arrangements to complete her senior year by correspondence. She didn't even ask to go back to New York for her graduation, although her parents drove to the celebration from their home in Connecticut.
Mikki and I drove to Las Vegas to get married in May 1971. We were married in the Town Clerk's office during their evening session.
Getting married in Vegas is a maudlin affair. We stayed the night in a one of the large hotels and had sex. I don't remember anything about it, just that it happened.
On the drive back to LA I asked her (why would I do this?) about her past loves. She filled the long drive with stories about boats, truck drivers, and foursomes.
She'd lost her virginity to a young stud from Cornell. He had a Hobie Cat and took her for a sail in Cayuga's waters. She wore a bikini (and she looked mighty fuckable in her bikini) and he wore a Speedo. On the sail they both got very wet from the spray. He took her to one of the small islands and beached the boat. There were a couple of large, felled logs around a long-abandoned fire. He quickly gathered some dry wood and lit the fire. He'd also brought beer and sandwiches. He suggested they both shed their wet suits -- which he said he'd hang near the fire -- and they could warm up, and have lunch, in the soft white towels he'd brought in a watertight carrier.
Mikki agreed, but there was no place for privacy. She thought he'd at least turn his back while she wiggled out of her tight suit, but he fixed his eyes on the show. The swelling in his Speedo showed he was planning on more than sandwiches for lunch. He, too, undressed. He wrapped his towel around his waist, and she wrapped hers around her boobs. They sat side-by-side on a log and enjoyed the beer and the warmth of the fire.
After the second beer he guided Mikki's hand under the fold of his towel and put it on his penis. She'd seen photos of cocks, of course, but had never touched one. It was warm, and smooth, and she could feel it moving and growing.
They kissed.
Her towel fell off her body, and her perky young boobs were free. He fondled and kissed them. He then put his towel on the sand, and guided Mikki from her perch on the log to her back on the towel.
He was gentle. He wore a condom. The sex was initially painful, but she didn't bleed. As she became more relaxed, and as the pain subsided, his movements increased. He went from slow, shallow thrusts to longer ones. Each time the tip of his cock would fully come out of her pussy only to plunge in again. Deeper each time, until he finally climaxed.
They each had another beer, ate their tuna sandwiches, put on their dry suits, and sailed back home -- getting drenched all over again.
Her truck driver boyfriend was muscular but walked with a limp as one leg was shorter than the other. He'd come home in the middle of the night, and she could watch him take a shower from their bed. She'd move the covers off of her body, spread her legs, and would start playing with her nipples before moving on to her pussy.
The truck driver (sorry, I never knew his name) would stand there, at the foot of the bed, drying himself, planning his first move, and getting hard.
As for the foursome, she and a girlfriend went out on a double date. Her friend's date provided the car and did the driving, so Mikki and her date sat in the back seat. They went to watch the submarine races in the near-by Finger Lake, and tops and bras started to come off. They decided to pool their funds to rent a room at the nearest motel. Two double beds. And the two couples fucked side-by-side, each trying to outdo the other. But they had morals: they did not swap partners.
More significantly, Mikki started to reveal she had a temper. She'd hidden this from me completely -- but now it was out. She'd explode over the smallest of things (never anything big). Just as quickly she'd calm down. I am placid -- and don't explode -- but it takes me longer to calm down. And this would make her explode all over again.
Other than her temper, life moved on and things seemed fine. We moved from LA to New York, and I started attending night law school.
I have this random memory from our apartment near Union Square. She'd read some sort of interpretation of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Snow White was apparently virginal, and the seven dwarfs each represented a sex act. I Googled this just now and found all sorts of pretentious articles about the hidden meaning of the fairy tale. Purely for research purposes we took to the couch and tried to reach the number seven. I was much younger, of course, and reached -- during about an hour or so -- 5 ½ dwarfs.
Mikki didn't like the pill, so she used a diaphragm. It was always a messy affair with all that spermicidal gel and her trying to get the slippery thing -- it looked, to me, to be five times the diameter of her cunt -- into the right place. She unexpectedly became pregnant, and we decided we couldn't raise a child in NYC, so moved back to Hawaii.
Mikki thought it would be wonderful to stay at home and raise our daughter. This daydream lasted a few weeks before she wanted to go back to work. We went through various babysitting options before I spotted an ad for a licensed Swiss governess seeking a position in Hawaii. Heidi turned out to be 23 years old, pretty (as governesses always are), and was born in the States to Swiss parents. She had a US passport. Heidi was working for some rock musicians in Santa Fe and wanted a change. We did a deal -- we'd let her look after other children and keep that money and we would pay her fare back to Zurich if she'd stay with us until we could enroll our daughter in pre-school (age 2).
During this time Mikki worked for an insurance company. They sent her to a seminar at a dude ranch near San Antonio. I stayed at home with Heidi and my daughter.
I'll bet you think this is where the infidelity comes in o the story, and you'd be right. Heidi and I watched TV while sitting on the floor. We drank lots of cold champagne. Ate fresh strawberries. Heidi wore revealing loungewear. But neither of us touched the other. We joked about it, of course, but did nothing more.
Back at the dude ranch Mikki met Tex the Cowboy. Tex was some sort of stunt guy who appeared in "The Alamo" and "The Green Berets." I sat through the latter to see Tex -- he has one line: "Wanna play cards, Sarge." Or something similar.
I guess they square danced (or whatever you do at a dude ranch) and Mikki went back to his cabin. Tex had problems extracting her from her body suit -- being from Connecticut, and not wanting the snaps to pop open during the Virginia Reel, she'd safety-pinned the suit shut on the part that snapped between her legs.
After some passionate, body-suit encased kissing, Tex said he need to get up early the next morning to do cowboy things. He told Mikki he'd love her to stay the night but would understand if she wanted to go back to her own room. He went into his bathroom to get ready for bed.
Mikki thought about what she should do.
Tex walked out of the bathroom, with a towel draped over his shoulder -- which he quickly dropped. He had, as you'd expect of a cowboy, a hairy chest, impressive set of abs, and a decent sized cock nestled in a thick black bush. He lay on the top of the bed and propped up his head to enjoy the show he hoped would now start.
Mikki was ready for her performance. She quickly shed her skirt, leaving her in the bodysuit armor.
She soon unfastened the safety pins and she turned her back to Tex as she pulled her bodysuit up over her head. She then undid her bra, shed it, and covered her boobs with her hands. When she turned around, she was pleased to see that Tex's cock was suitably hard and larger than first she thought.
She removed her hands to expose her breasts, and then moved as provocatively as she could to show them off. She's not really a dancer (nor am I), and I suspect the undulating was not well choreographed. The sole member of her audience was more focused on the prospect of what lay ahead than on her dancing skills.
She turned her back to him again, and slowly slipped off her panties. Before she turned around again to face Tex she covered her blonde bush with her hands. Tex was now starting to stroke his cock.
She dropped her modesty, exposing her beautiful wet vulva. She then jumped on the bed, began kissing Tex from above, and replaced Tex's hand with her own on his dick. Stroking gently up and down.
Lust prevailed.
When Tex couldn't stand the wait any longer, he got up on his knees on the bed -- with his cock at attention. He carefully took hold of Mikki's ankles and gently pulled her feet up and slightly over his shoulders. He used his hands and his body to direct his cock to her vagina -- and pushed. Mikki let out a moan as he filled her with his manhood. He took full control of the fucking, enjoying the natural movement of her breasts with each thrust. Much better than their movement during her dance.
Sweat beaded on his forehead and in the mat of hair on his chest. And then he came. Just like that. No warning, and certainly not 5.4 minutes. He apologized for his premature ejaculation, explaining that it had been some time since he'd last fucked.
He released Mikki's ankles. There was no discussion of a repeat performance. Mikki found her bodysuit on the floor and put in on over her bare skin. She was able to locate her bra, but her panties were elusive. On went her skirt and shoes, and she gave Tex a peck on the cheek and walked back to her cabin.
It's funny show she jeopardized her marriage to me, all for a minute or two of having another man's penis sliding back and forth in her cunt.
Mikki returned to insurance meeting things in the morning and was getting ready to take the chartered bus to the San Antonio airport. Tex showed up at the last minute and offered to drive her to the airport. She accepted, wondering where this would go. It went to Tex's apartment in town, where he showed her a rock the size and shape of his penis which he'd been given by a past lover.
Comparisons were, of course, necessary. Mikki removed her jeans and panties and sat, spread-eagled with her feet on the floor, on his leather couch. Tex unfastened his gaudy silver belt-buckle and dropped his jeans. He was going commando. He kneeled in front of Mikki, and the rock/dick comparison took place. Mikki thought the rock was larger than his cock but didn't say this. Instead, she opened her legs a little wider, and enjoyed his insertion of the real thing -- and the fucking that followed. This time he lasted more than a couple of minutes before he collapsed forward, on to her chest, and his whole body shook.
Her scheduled flight home to Hawaii meant that another round was not possible. He dropped her off at the departure terminal. He stayed in his car -- she leaned over to give him a passionate kiss on the lips. She would see him one more time before he died.
Of course I knew nothing about this. But Mikki was different when she returned home. Subdued. A few days later she gave me a letter to mail to her friend in Connecticut. At this point Mikki and I had been married for about seven years and she'd never previously given me a letter to mail to anyone. I'm not the type to open other's mail, but just the way she gave me the letter seemed to tell me I should do so.r"
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