Tracy's Special Summer

Info silverhawk
07 Oct. '17

It was the first of June in 1971 and the sun was shining as I drove my old beat-up Falcon out of town.  I was happy.  I’d passed my all my college classes, and it looked like I’d finally graduate next year.  I was also happy because I was headed to the little farm in Tennessee where I’d earned most of my college money.  After donating a couple of years of my time to Uncle Sam, courtesy of the draft and a vacation to Vietnam, the GI Bill took care of a lot of the costs.  There were always the necessities of life to take care of, though, like the beat-up trailer I rented, something to eat, and a six-pack in the fridge for the weekends.  Working summers for Mrs. Howell gave me enough cash for that and the occasional date.

I was discharged at Ft. Campbell, and decided to stay in the area to go to school.  At twenty-two, I was getting a bit of a late start, but better late then never.  After a year of living off what I’d saved from my Army pay, I was broke.  The ad in the paper looked interesting, so I called the number.  Mrs. Howell had lost her husband that winter, and needed help with the tobacco, hay, and cattle.  I drove out to talk to her, and we hit it off.  I started the next day.

Tracy, her daughter, was nineteen at the time, and when I first saw her, I knew it was going to be fun working there that summer.  I was fueling the tractor at the tank beside the garage when Tracy came out in a tiny bikini with a blanket in one hand and a bottle of suntan lotion in the other.  After finding a spot in the sun, Tracy spread out the blanket and sat down to put on the lotion.  She seemed to take a long time with her full breasts, even reaching into the cups of the bikini top to put lotion where I was sure no sun could ever reach, and took even longer with her inner thighs.  Looking back, I’m pretty sure she did it for my benefit, because when she caught me looking, she grinned knowingly.

There was an old tenant house on the farm, really just two rooms – a kitchen and a bedroom with a bath off one corner - that Mrs. Howell let me live in.  When the day’s work was done, I’d take a shower, eat something, and then relax on the tiny porch.  After a couple of weeks, Tracy started walking over to talk to me after dinner.  She’d usually stay until almost dark.  It was nice having her to talk with, and even nicer having her to look at. She was a pretty brunette with all the tight slender curves of a young woman.  It was apparent she knew all about what those curves could do to me, too, because her clothes were either tight enough to leave little to the imagination, or loose enough that I didn’t have to imagine much if she sat the right way.

The night before I left for school, Tracy gave me a hug, and then kissed me.  I did what I though was right.  After all, she was only nineteen and I was twenty-two and felt a lot older than that.  I pushed her away gently after the kiss,

“Tracy, what was that for?”

“Well, I like you, and thought we could…well, you know.”

“Yeah, I know, and as much as I’d like to, I can’t.  It’s not you, Tracy.  It’s just that, well, you don’t really want that yet.  You need to save that for someone else, someone… when you’re ready to be a woman, you’ll know who that is and that it’s right.”

The second summer, she didn’t tease me by tanning in the yard in her bikini.  She teased me by helping work the tobacco in her bikini.  I’ll tell you, watching her bend over to get to sucker caused me to walk ahead of her until my cock went back down.  When we rested at the end of the rows, Tracy would flop down on the ground with her legs spread, put her arms over her head, and then look at me and smile.  It was obviously an invitation, but one I wasn’t ready to accept.  Tracy knew that, but that didn’t stop her from trying.

I supposed I could expect the same this summer, and I was half anticipating seeing Tracy coming out to greet me in another bikini.  I was disappointed, though.  She had a summer job as a clerk for a local business, and apologized that she wouldn’t be able to help me as much as last year.  She put just a slight emphasis on the word “help” and grinned.  As she drove down the drive, I realized how much I was going to miss her being around.

Most of the summer was about the same as last, except I only saw Tracy on the weekends, and she usually wasn’t in a bikini.  In fact, she never laid in the sun at all, but that didn’t stop her from exciting me.  The T-shirts and tight shorts did that quite nicely, and many were the Sunday afternoons I spent hiding the hardon in my pants while we talked about our classes or the farm or other things.

One Saturday night in late July, I was sitting on my little porch enjoying a beer.  It was almost dark, but it felt almost as hot and humid as it had at noon.  I was sitting there sweating when Tracy walked over from the house.

“You got another one of those?”, she asked.  “I’m twenty-one now, so I’m legal.”

I brought her a beer and sat back down.  Tracy tipped the bottle to her lips and let the icy liquid flood her mouth, then put the sweating bottle to her forehead.

“God, that’s good.  It’s been so damned hot all day I’m about dried up.”

“You should have been putting up hay like I was.  It was hot and it was dusty and by the end of the day the sweat just turned into mud.  It was great to be able to come back and take a shower.”

Tracy took another pull on her beer, swallowed, and then smiled.

“If you’ve got a few more of those, I know where we can go to cool off.”

“Oh, and where would that be?”

“The pond down in the cow pasture.  Haven’t you ever been down there?  It’s fed by a spring, so it’s always cool.  Dad used to take me swimming down there.  After he died, I never wanted to go back, but it sure would feel good right about now.  You get your trunks and the beer while I go get my suit and a flashlight.”

In half an hour, I walked out into pure bliss.  The water was so cool, it took a little getting used to, but after that, it was fantastic.  It was almost as fantastic as Tracy in her little bikini.  We stayed in water up to our necks for about half an hour and let the heat of the day just drain away.  I was feeling good and feeling like another beer, so I asked Tracy if she wanted one too.

“You bet.  Meet you on the blanket.”

We sat there in the dark, talking through that beer.  I uncapped two more and sat back down beside Tracy.  She took her beer, sat it on the blanket beside her and put her hand on mine.

“You know that first summer, when you told me I should wait?  I never told you, but I’m glad you did.”

“I’m glad, I guess.  So, you found the right guy?”

“I think so.  We haven’t done anything yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”

“Well, Tracy, I hope you’re very happy with him.”

“That kind of depends on you.”

“Depends on me…How could that be?”

Tracy slipped her hand up my arm to my chest.

“You’re the guy, and please don’t tell me I’m not ready to be a woman yet.  I’m ready now.  Make me a woman, please.”

“But I don’t have…I don’t have anything.”

“You don’t need anything.  I thought about this all winter before I decided, and then I planned how.  I’ve been on the pill for three months.”

Tracy’s hand was already sliding inside the leg of my trunks when I kissed her.  A tug on the two strings of her bikini caused it to fall away, leaving her breasts cupped in my hands.  She moaned when I rubbed her stiff nipples with my thumbs, and she started pulling on the waistband of my trunks.

Her words were quiet little whispers that turned to gasps when I brushed her nipples.

“Take off your trunks.  I want to feel you.”

I slipped off my trunks at the same time Tracy worked the bikini bottom down over her hips.  Then I felt her soft hands slide up my thigh and circle my cock.  Tracy sucked in her breath when she felt it, then she began stroking it slowly.

“Am I doing this right?”

“Tracy, you’re doing a great job.  Let’s see what I can do for you.”

I slipped my hand between her thighs and slowly caressed my way up.  Tracy opened her legs to my touch, and when my fingertips cupped her sex, she shivered and groaned..  She was already wet when I eased my fingertip between her lips and moved it down to her passage.  It felt as if she got even wetter when I slowly pushed my finger inside her.  

She really had waited, or at least that’s what she felt like.  Just inside her entrance, she got very snug.  I’d experienced that tightness once before.  I was young and stupid, and I’d hurt the girl in my rush to bury my cock in her.  I wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

With my lips, I nuzzled and nibbled at her nipples.  With my fingertips, I softly caressed her lips and clit, then slipped my finger into her, deeper and deeper.  Tracy relaxed little by little, and then began to tense again as I brought her close to cumming.  Just a little rubbing on her clit and a gentle bite on her nipple took her over the edge.  Tracy’s hips lurched into my hand as she cried out.  I stroked her clit a bit more firmly and she arched off the blanket, then clamped her thighs together around my hand.

Tracy started to say something, but I covered her mouth with mine.  I kissed her softly until she returned the kiss with a passion I hadn’t expected.  When I slipped my tongue between her lips, she met it with hers and sighed.  Little by little, as I ever so lightly caressed her swollen, wet lips, her legs opened again.  

She had long since stopped stroking my cock, but I didn’t need her hands to excite me.  I could feel her wetness, feel her hips rocking as I caressed her up the slope again, and I caught the scent, the scent of a very aroused woman.  All that had my cock rock hard and straining to plunge into her, but I waited.

When Tracy was nearly there again, I stopped and moved between her thighs.  In the moonlight, I could see a flicker of fear in her eyes.

“I know this will hurt, but I want you to do it.  I don’t want anybody else, just you.”

I didn’t say anything because it was probably going to hurt, but I was going to do everything I knew to make it easier for her.

When my cock touched her lips, they were warm and wet.  Tracy opened her thighs wide and my cockhead slipped up to her entrance.  I pushed in, slowly and gently, until I felt resistance.  Tracy tried to help, but I pulled back.  With my arm wrapped around her thigh, I could reach her clit, and I began gently rubbing it again.  Her response was anything but gentle.  Tracy started to moan and thrust her hips into me, trying to push my cock inside her.  She couldn’t have known how to do that in any way other than instinct, and that told me she was very close.

I pushed my cock back inside her until I felt the tightness again, and then pushed harder.  As soon as Tracy cried out, I stopped pushing.  In only a few moments, her hips were arching into me again, so I pushed a little deeper.

Suddenly, Tracy began to pant and moan at the same time.  I felt her body lift  under me, and then she cried out as she came again.  At that second, I pushed my cock through the resistance in her passage until our bellies touched.  I came quickly, because of the tightness and because Tracy was still rocking her hips.  We stayed that way, locked together, her arms tight around my neck, and her lips on mine, until my cock finally slipped out of her.

Tracy put her lips to my ear, kissed it, and then whispered. “Thank you.”

We met every night after we’d both finished work, but it was a couple of days before Tracy shared my bed, and then I had to be very gentle.  By the end of that special summer, we were making love almost every night.  I’m sure her mother knew, but she didn’t say anything.  She also didn’t say anything when Tracy transferred to my college, or when we set up housekeeping together.

Well, that was a lot of years ago.  As it turned out, Tracy didn’t stay with me, but we still see each other every week or so.  She’s married to a doctor who spends more time at his hospital than at home, and she says she gets lonely, especially now that her kids are gone.  She told me he knows, but doesn’t care as long as she goes with him in public.  

As for me, I found Julie.  We have what some folks call an open marriage.  We just think we’re doing what feels good.  Yes, we were careful when we planned our family, but once they went off to lives of their own, we agreed that one could love only one person, but still make love to other people.  She has a special friend, a friend like my Tracy.  He’s younger than Julie, and his special summer was a couple of years ago, when he was helping Julie landscape our new home.  Everyone has that special summer at sometime in their lives, that summer when everything seems right and life is good.  We’re glad we could be a part of two of those.

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