My Summer Love
I’m a high school shop teacher and as winter melted into spring, I decided that a nice summer project would be to build a wraparound porch for my house. It would add aesthetically and functionally to my home. It could sit out front on summer evenings with a beer or I could sit in the back when I wanted privacy. I started the project in early spring and spent a lot of time outdoors planning, measuring, and compiling a list of materials I’d need. Being outside, I couldn’t help but notice the neighbors’ comings and goings.
The neighbor down the road had a daughter who had a friend that would visit her. This friend would come and hang out, arriving in a handsome pickup truck. They’d spend hours together almost daily. She’d often let my neighbor’s girl drive her truck when they went out. She was kind of cute.
As I measured and sawed and worked it occurred to me that maybe these two girls were more than friends. It was unusual to see two girls so inseparable. Yes, that must be it, I reasoned; they’re special friends, which only made me more interested in them.
Then the pickup truck stopped arriving. Three weeks went by and no truck. They must be having a spat or perhaps they’ve broken up. This cute girl had almost left my mind when I noticed the truck was there again. I saw her come out of her friend’s house soon after and drive off. She remained looking straight ahead and seemed in a hurry. Her reconciliation efforts had failed.
The girl in the pickup truck arrived no more. As I labored through the spring, I found myself missing her. Then one day out of the clear blue the truck came lumbering up the road. I had to admire her persistence. She got out and went into her friend’s house. This time she stayed for hours. When she came out we caught each other’s attention. I gave her a knowing smile that expressed my happiness that she was back in good graces. She returned a fleeting, shy glance that included a happy smile.
A week later I had some evening guests over and at the end of the night I stepped outside to see them to their car. There was the pickup truck with the cutie getting into it. We looked at each other over the distance, and I waved to her. She immediately returned my wave accompanied by her cute smile. I liked her.
School was finally out! I could focus on my project and finish it. The next day while working on my porch I was immersed in my measuring and sawing.
“Hi,” said a voice that came from behind me.
Her truck was parked where it always was; for once I hadn’t noticed her pull up. I must be slipping.
“Oh, hi,” I stammered, looking up.
“Your porch is coming along nicely. I’ve been watching your progress.”
“Thanks. Yes, it’s been some hard work but I’m finally getting somewhere with it.”
“It looks nice. Do you think you’ll be done before the summer is over?”
“I’m not sure. Progress has been slower than I anticipated, but I hope so. I’d like to enjoy it in the nice weather.”
She took a few steps around the completed part. I was still on my knees in front of my contractor’s saw so I was looking up at her. She wore flip-flops like everyone seems to these days. She had graceful feet that led to nice calves and thighs. Her shorts were not too short and she wore a loose top. I could see no tattoos or piercings. I already knew from prior observation that she was slim with a cute face and nice hair. I judged about nineteen.
“My friend isn’t home and she isn’t answering her phone,” she said, distractedly rubbing a board.
“It’s probably on vibrate and she doesn’t know you’re calling,” I offered. Her frown revealed that she thought my explanation was ludicrous.
“No,” was her simple reply. There was a brief silence.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Mary Ellen. What’s yours?”
“Tyler.” I stood and gently shook her hand. “Welcome to my home, Mary Ellen. It’s nice to have company.”
And it was. I had no designs on this girl; she was young enough to be my daughter with a few years to spare. I felt a bit sorry for her due to the breakup. I had watched her try so hard to get her girl, all to no avail. I got the feeling she was just being used and it aroused a protective instinct in me. “Stay a while Mary Ellen. We can talk while I work.”
“I can help you, you know. Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean that I’ve never swung a hammer or used a table saw,” she said in the rebellious manner of a teenager.
“Okay, you’re on, but not today Mary Ellen. I can’t let you work the way you’re dressed and in flip-flops. If your offer is serious, come tomorrow ready to work.”
“I will,” she said assuredly, with a touch of her cute defiance. She stayed a while longer and we talked about her pickup truck. I told her I admired it and that it looked professional grade. I made no mention of her relationship with my neighbor’s girl. We prattled on until she said it was time to go.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” she said over her shoulder as she left. “And I take my coffee with milk, no sugar,” she ordered in her saucy insolence. I wanted to adopt her.
Sure enough, the next morning she showed up. I was already outside fitting a tread on a joist when she parked in front of my house. She was dressed in carpenter’s jeans and work boots, and walked up with confidence. This girl was just as pretty dressed for home improvement as she was for hanging with her friends.
“Good morning, Tyler.”
“Good morning, Mary Ellen,” I said, staring. “Thanks for coming by. Oh, your coffee is ready. Go ahead inside. It’s on the table.”
“First things first,” she declared as she went inside to collect her cup. She came back out, sipping. She walked around surveying the job like a foreman.
“Okay, I see what you’re up to. You already have the angles cut. We’ll lay these treads across. I brought a cordless screwdriver. It’s in my truck. I’ll go get it.”
She returned with a carpenter’s tool box filled with locking pliers, a hammer, a pry bar, a combination square, a speed square, carpenter’s pencils, a plumb bob, a thirty foot measuring tape, eye protection, and her cordless driver.
“You came well prepared,” I said. “Have you done this kind of work before?”
“Yeah,” she said, fastening her tool belt around her slim waist.
“With my Grandfather. We built some decks, porches, and benches. I’ve done some framing.”
“I’m glad to have your help,” I said as she produced her screwdriver.
“I’ll drill pilot holes for the screws. Where’s your drill?”
“It’s in the garage.”
She retrieved it and went to work.
I eyed her guardedly as she drilled, wary of her ruining the pieces of wood I had cut, but she seemed to know what she was doing. She held the drill with confidence and wielded it with finesse. We talked as we worked, and she told me that she had three brothers. She lived with her Mom and a younger brother; her parents were divorced. She didn’t see her Father much, maybe once a month. We worked all morning, and then broke for lunch.
“If you drive, I’ll buy,” I said, pushing a twenty into her hand.
“Sure,” she said with a smile.
She drove off and soon returned, sandwiches in hand. We chatted as we ate. She revealed that she wasn’t happy at home. She absolutely couldn’t stand the thought of her Mother and her new boyfriend sleeping together in the next room. Her facial expression indicated the extent of her disgust. She saw him as nothing but an interloper and wanted him out. She didn’t much like her Father’s girlfriend either, but that was less of an issue. The subject of her friendship with the neighbor’s girl was never brought up, nor was there a mention of a boyfriend. We went back to work.
“What do you do for a living, Tyler?”
“I’m a high school shop teacher.”
“I never saw you in school.”
“I don’t teach here, I teach at a school fifteen miles from here.”
“Oh,” she said, her eyebrows slightly knit. “Summers off are nice,” she added.
“They sure are,” I agreed. “Everyone I know is at work right now. I’m at home doing my own thing.”
After a while she inquired about my marital status.
“I’ve never been married. I came close once or twice, but it didn’t happen.”
“Smart man. What’s the sense, anyway?” She didn’t ask about a girlfriend, and I volunteered no information.
About an hour later her friend drove up the road. She eyed Mary Ellen’s pickup truck in my driveway and stopped and stared. She parked and came over.
“Hi Mary Ellen,” she said, totally ignoring me.
“Hi,” Mary Ellen replied indifferently, not bothering to look up from the board she was holding.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m working. What does it look like?” she replied, glaring, her eyes piercing. Her stare was cold steel and her eyes were as frigid as arctic ice. She turned her back on the girl and positioned the board for fastening.
“Want to come over later?” offered the little user.
“I’ll be busy here all day,” Mary Ellen replied tersely. “After that I’m going home.”
The skanky little tart stood there speechless for a moment. “Maybe some other time,” was all she could suggest.
Mary Ellen stayed focused on her work, giving no reply. The little bitch, thoroughly humiliated, turned and scurried off. I looked up to watch her in her flight and the image of a dog with its tail between its legs entered my mind.
My admiration for Mary Ellen increased at that moment, along with my protective instinct. I stepped into my house, and standing in the doorway, I called her in. She put down her screwdriver and entered. I took her in my arms and held her. She let out a sob as a tear rolled down her cheek.
“It’s okay, Baby,” I assured her. “You handled yourself well. You’ll feel better soon.” I produced a tissue and dabbed the tear on her cheek. “Open wide,” I said, and gently dried the tears in her eyes. “If it was meant to be, it will happen,” I said soothingly as I gave her a hug. My consolation seemed to help; she took a few deep breaths and recovered.
“Thanks,” she said, and paused. “What are we doing standing here? We’re wasting daylight. Let’s get back to work.” She turned and stepped outside. I liked this girl more and more.
Mary Ellen returned the next day and the day after that. We made great progress. After three days of hard work I invited her to stay for dinner. It was the least I could do. She readily accepted my offer.
“You can take a shower while I prepare dinner. Wash the sawdust off.” I gave her clean towels and a pair of sweatpants and a shirt to wear. While Mary Ellen showered I prepared a quick pesto and warmed some water for pasta. She came out of the shower as fresh as a daisy and as pretty as a picture. Her wet hair hung down on my oversized shirt.
“Ah, I feel better,” she exclaimed.
“You look better, too, even though the clothes are too big.”
“I’m comfortable,” she declared with a glowing smile.
“Let me take a quick shower, too. I need it,” I said.
“Yeah, you do,” she teased.
After my shower I boiled the pasta. I felt a little funny having a nineteen year old woman for a dinner guest but I found Mary Ellen easy to be with. It was that bond that forms between two people who work together. She had proved herself capable as a carpenter and as a worker. She did all I asked of her, she never requested a break, and was cheerful the whole time, with the exception of when her friend approached her. Mary Ellen had worked up a good appetite and dug right in.
“What kind of spaghetti is this?”
“It’s not spaghetti, they’re rigatoni. And the sauce is pesto.”
“It’s crushed basil leaves, pine nuts, olive oil, parmesan cheese, and garlic.”
“It’s good!” she said approvingly.
“Take more. You’ve earned a good meal.” She did.
After dinner we lingered and talked a while, and then Mary Ellen rose to leave. “When do we resume work?” she asked.
“I’ll be busy with an errand tomorrow, Friday. We’ll continue Monday.” I had the feeling she wanted to work through the weekend, but my weekends were occupied.
“Okay,” she said, a little forlornly.
I walked her to her truck and thanked her as she left. “I couldn’t have made this much progress without your help, Mary Ellen. Thank you so much. You’re a pleasure to work with.”
She gave a contented, proud smile. I think she wanted a kiss. I wanted to kiss her, but I didn’t.
The next week we put in four days. After the last day of work she went to her truck and returned with a cooler. She pulled out a six-pack of beer. “Want one?” she asked, holding up a tall boy. It looked so inviting.
“I don’t drink,” I lied. I had no intention of drinking alcohol with an underage girl. Her cute face fell and she returned the bottles to the cooler, looking chastised.
“Let’s have dinner instead,” I suggested. I prepared something easy and after dinner we went back outside to inspect our work. Her friend passed by in the car. Mary Ellen saw her coming and turned her back toward the road. We lingered, talking. She stayed until dark, and seemed reluctant to leave. With no invitation forthcoming from me, she decided it was time to go. I liked Mary Ellen and enjoyed her company, and I was a bit sorry to see her go, but it wouldn’t be right to invite her to stay.
The next week work resumed, and we finished the entire project after four days. It came out beautifully. The carpentry was superb, if I say so myself, and the spar varnish made it look richer yet. Mary Ellen and I gloated in our triumph. Of course I invited her for dinner. She stayed on and after dinner went to her truck and returned with a backpack.
“I don’t want to go home tonight,” she exclaimed with a look of pleading on her face.
I figured it would come to this sooner or later.
“Won’t your Mother worry about you?”
“No, she’s too wrapped up with Mr. Wonderful to care about me.” I felt sorry for her, even though I felt she was exaggerating a bit.
“I have a spare bedroom. You can sleep there tonight,” I relented.
“Thanks,” she said with feigned appreciation. I knew that wasn’t exactly what she wanted.
“But I want you to call your Mother to tell her that you’ll be safe.”
“I don’t need to.”
“Do it anyway. A condition of your staying here is calling your Mom to tell her you’re safe. Lie to her if you want to; that’s your business, but call her,” I insisted. I felt as though I was giving an ultimatum to a child. Maybe I was. She called and stayed.
The late night hours brought a hammering summer rainstorm with lightning that turned night to daylight and thunderclaps that shook the house. I heard a faint knock on my bedroom door.
“What is it, Mary Ellen?” She eased the door open a crack and her head appeared from behind it. Her face showed tension.
“I’m scared, Tyler,” she said pleadingly. I threw open the covers on the other side of the bed. She scampered in and hopped in next to me. I covered her up and took her in my arms. She pressed her butt into my groin and her hair was in my face. I hugged her and fell back asleep as the storm raged outside.
I awoke in the morning, still in this spoon position, with Mary Ellen still in my arms. She slept as peacefully as a child. Holding Mary Ellen as she slept roused a feeling of serenity in me that I had never felt before. Her breaths were tranquil sighs and her tummy expanded and contracted with her breathing. Her young body was a joy to hold.
I stirred and she woke. She turned to me, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and smiled. “That was some storm last night.”
“Yes, it was,” I replied sheepishly. I was a bit ashamed of having slept with such a young girl.
Mary Ellen rose. Her long hair fell on her back, and I couldn’t help but notice her cute behind in her shorts. She turned to me. “You can stay in bed. I’ll make breakfast.” Her nipples showed plainly through her T shirt, and it was obvious she wore no panties.
A flood of mixed emotions washed over me. For the past three weeks I had viewed Mary Ellen as a child, albeit mature, but still a child. She was my work helper and my young friend. I carried no desire for her; my male instinct was to protect her and to provide for her. I wanted to make her mine, but in a platonic and paternal fashion. Now, after she had spent the night in my bed and in my arms, I viewed her in a new light. Mary Ellen was young, beautiful, and sexy. There was much to admire about her. She was a flower that hadn’t fully bloomed yet, but having gotten to know her these past weeks, her innate beauty became obvious to me. A primal urge welled up from deep inside me to take this young, strong, lovely girl as a worthy mate. I struggled to suppress this urge.
Mary Ellen was busy with pans and dishes when I entered the kitchen. She was making scrambled eggs and toast. Her bare feet patted the wooden floor and her cute tush swayed with her movements. Her breasts danced playfully. “The coffee is ready,” she explained. “I poured you a cup.”
“Thanks,” I replied, trying not to stare.
We ate, talking easily. “I hope I don’t cause a scandal between you and your neighbors,” she said between bites, obliquely referring to her friendship with the neighbor’s girl.
“My neighbor’s feelings are a matter of indifference to me. You’re my guest and I’m glad you’re here. You helped me a lot with the porch. It would have taken me another month to finish without your capable help.” Mary Ellen glowed proudly. “Let’s take our coffee outside and enjoy the porch,” I suggested.
We rose and stepped out the back door. The rear of the house offered plenty of privacy so there was little danger of us being seen in our casual state of dress. In the wake of last night’s storm there was calm. We spent a quiescent morning listening to the birds sing as a gentle breeze rustled the leaves and wafted summer scents into the air.
Alas, it was time for Mary Ellen to leave. She kissed my lips as she thanked me for my hospitality. I kissed her back and included a hug. She waved back with a smile as she turned onto the road and drove off.
The next Monday Mary Ellen returned, knapsack in hand. The tomboy look was gone. She wore no carpenter’s jeans now; she wore her flip-flops and shorts. Her button-up top was untucked and she wore makeup and earrings. Her hair was free and prominent. Her red fingernails matched her red toenails. She was a girly girl again, young, uninhibited, and at the apex of her beauty. She entered, phone in hand, ready to call Mom. There was no way I could resist her and I invited her to stay. After dinner we sat and talked, enjoying each other’s company. After clearing the table Mary Ellen availed herself of my shower. She emerged fresh and clean. I followed with a shower, too, and when I came out I found Mary Ellen in my bedroom.
“It’s comfortable in here,” she said simply. She proceeded to remove her top and her shorts. She stood naked before me. She was beautiful. She approached me and hugged me. We kissed. She pulled my T shirt off and made quick work of removing my pants. We ogled each other in our nakedness. We hugged again and fell into bed.
I was as hard as granite and she took me in her mouth. She started modestly, and then challenged herself to proceed further. She methodically took more of me until her lips wrapped around my base. She held herself there momentarily, savoring her triumph, then rode all the way back up. Watching her repeat her victory over physical improbabilities again and again, each time outstretching her lips for that last millimeter, hastened my finish. She held her position down low as I expended the fruits of her labor. Her audible gulps concluded her accomplishment.
I needed a few minutes rest, but Mary Ellen was already mounting me. I put my hand on her cute butt and pulled her forward. She moved forward tentatively and sat on her heels.
“Sit on me, Mary Ellen,” I said as I continued to prod her into position. “Put your feet flat on the bed.”
She unfolded her legs and sat her full weight on my chest.
“Is that better?” I asked.
“I like this, Tyler,” she said, fine tuning her position.
“I like your weight on me, Mary Ellen. You’re so light,” I said, looking up at her.
“Thank you,” she replied, our eyes locked. “Anytime.”
Anytime, indeed. To have this doll perched on my face was more than a guy could hope for. I shifted my gaze to her womanhood.
To say her vagina was beautiful was like saying the Eiffel Tower is a pile of wrought iron. Her shaved lips were a healthy pink and glistened with her juices. I gently opened her flower and placed my nose between her lips, basking in her redolence. I gave her some gentle kisses, savoring her beauty. Finally, I slowly dragged my tongue up her slot, delighting in her mild taste. I exposed her hard clitoris and offered gentle kisses. Paying careful attention to her breathing, I massaged her nub with my stiffened tongue. As she drew near, I replaced my tongue with my index finger and inserted my tongue deep. I rubbed her to an effusive finish.
She exhaled sharply and held her boobs as she discharged a ferocious orgasm. I held her firmly in place and kept my tongue planted deep as her sex bathed my tongue. Her orgasmic juices were sweet and I made perceptible sounds as I drew them out of her. When her breathing finally settled she scooted her butt down toward my waiting erection and kissed my lips.
“That was…I never…I didn’t think I…” she said between pants, her lips still on mine.
“Shhh, Doll. Enjoy the afterglow.” I continued holding her as she calmed.
“I came in your mouth!” she marveled.
“Thank you for that, Mary Ellen. Your orgasms are sweet.”
“We’re going to have to do that again,” she averred. Indeed we were.
The north pole of my erection and the south pole of her vagina were two magnets that inexorably attracted one another; as she slid back my glans found her opening and her opening found my glans.
“Do you practice birth control?” I asked in a whisper.
“Of course,” she whispered back. “I take pills,” she assured me.
Sitting upright now, she slowly settled down until I was all in. Very tenderly, she rode up and down until she brought me to my second finish in fifteen minutes.
We calmed for some moments. I was surprised to find myself still ready and I got up on my knees. I took Mary Ellen’s cute behind in my hands and placed her before me. I gently entered her from behind.
“Oh, I love this, Tyler.” I pinched her cheeks as I pulled almost all the way out, and then would slowly push back in deeply. She moved in harmony with me and soon had a riveting orgasm. I had my third with her, and as I did she bowed her back to afford me maximum depth. We fell onto our sides, spooning in the afterglow. I remained inside as we kissed and fondled. I reached for some tissues and as I quit her I gently patted her oozing vagina. Her young lips were supple and compliant as I manipulated them.
“Thanks for that massage, Tyler,” she said coyly, still referring to her first orgasm. “You made me finish big time.”
“The massage you gave me was beautiful,” I replied, still gently handling her. She gave me a devilish smile. I wasn’t used to Mary Ellen’s superb treatment.
The next few days gave me time to think. My mixed feelings about this whole affair remained with me, with the addition of a dose of shame. This lovely little lady had helped me immeasurably on my construction project, had become a dependable friend, and had now become a lover. I admired Mary Ellen. I liked her a lot, maybe loved her, but not in a romantic sense. She was a fine young woman, a bit wayward, but I in no way wanted to take advantage of her. I assuaged my feelings of guilt by clinging to the fact that Mary Ellen had initiated our affair. She first approached me. She kept coming around. She requested to stay overnight. She maneuvered herself into my bed. She initiated our lovemaking. I never intended to make Mary Ellen my lover.
I had tried to offer her money for the help she rendered in building my porch. “Mary Ellen, I’d pay at least fifty dollars a day for a helper, and you’re more capable than a helper. Here’s five hundred dollars. You earned it,” I pleaded.
“No,” she insisted. “I’m here in order to be with you. I enjoy your company. I like helping you.”
That didn’t cancel the debt I owed her, but to pay her money now would carry a different connotation. I couldn’t do that, but I still wanted to repay her. If her terms were friendship and affection from me, she’d have it. She had recently suffered the loss of the neighbor’s girl despite her considerable efforts, and I retained some sympathy for her. I didn’t have the heart to hurt her again. If she wanted me to satisfy her young desires, I’d do it. I’d serve her any way she wanted.
She returned on Thursday for lunch, and we hung out together on our porch for a while. After our customary showers, I led her to my bedroom and drew the curtains. I undressed her with authority and ordered her to do the same to me. I laid her down and went straight downtown. When she was near, I took her hand and escorted her fingers to her clitoris and instructed her to continue. In my quest to please this doll I wanted to watch how she pleased herself and learn from it. I kept my tongue buried deep, and with this close-up view I took note of her technique as she energetically stimulated herself. I took her fingers in my mouth once or twice to moisten them, and after that she took the cue. She’d rub herself, insert her fingers in my mouth while my tongue was deep, and rub herself again. She gave herself multiples. I waited patiently as she continued stimulating herself, depositing her sweet nectar on my waiting tongue in successive waves. Until Mary Ellen decided she was done, I’d stay her eager recipient. She continued at her leisure, her other hand on the back of my head, pressing me in place.
Eventually she was spent. She wiped her sticky fingers one last time in my mouth. I took each of them individually in my mouth, savoring her aftertaste. I lingered there, holding her open and tenderly kissing between her musky lips while she settled. I then came up to kiss her. My face was sticky and she kissed me deeply.
“That was so hot. I couldn’t stop,” she panted.
I wanted to ask ‘Did that conceited little bitch treat you that well?’ but I had never established with certainty that they were lovers.
“You’re so sexy. I can’t wait for you to do that again,” I said instead as we gently kissed. I didn’t give her much time to rest. I mounted her and tenderly entered her. She delicately accommodated my full length. I pulled out and moved up.
“Squeeze your boobs together, Mary Ellen.” She quickly obeyed and I wiped the wetness from my erection in her cleavage. I reinserted myself and then withdrew again. This time I rode up and planted him on her pretty face. Pressing down, I held him fast against her. I took her hand in mine and had her hold me tightly against her face. My hands freed, I reached back and picked up her legs. Holding her by her feet, I rubbed him on her face. I looked back to see her glistening lips yawning open. I released her right foot and gently spanked her wetness. I was riding her fairly hard. I took myself out of her hand and gently slapped him on her cheeks. She smiled in delight.
“Ooh, I like that, Tyler,” she cooed, taking back control of my erection and slapping him on her cheeks. “Spank me again,” she commanded. I reached back and cupped and lightly spanked her. I inserted my fingers, too, and then put them in her mouth. I succumbed to the siren call of her adorable vagina, reinserting my erection several times, each time returning to her cleavage and then her pretty face.
This was too big a test of self-control for me. I tried to move to finish in her cleavage, but Mary Ellen held me fast in place and instead I unleashed on her face and in her lovely hair.
“Oh, I so needed that,” she declared, the droplets and streaks adorning her pretty face. She took me in her mouth for a moment or two, and then I rose to fetch a towel. She licked some off her fingers and wiped up the rest.
“Let me wash my face,” she said, and departed for the bathroom.
She soon returned with her hair partially wet. “Thank you for that, Tyler. I feel so much better now,” she said.
But I wasn’t done with her yet. I took her in my arms and spooning her, held her and caressed her, planting some loving kisses on her shoulders and neck. She was a delicate kitten, and I savored having her in my arms. I waited some minutes, recharging, as I elegantly handled her svelte body. She was a true joy and I began to come back to life.
I entered her again and very tenderly pampered this living doll. I kissed her and gently stroked her refined clitoris. After a while of this loving treatment she had a contented finish. I remained inside, comforting, kissing, and holding her, with her cute behind nestled in my groin.
Our scorching love affair progressed. Mary Ellen pleased me ways in which only a real woman does. She was always giving, and with her sexy way would often bring me to completion three times. No other woman did that for me, or in the ways she did it. In return I vowed to please her anyway I could.
Mary Ellen enjoyed her loving al fresco and we spent many a summer evening, au naturel, on our porch. If she preferred it outside, she’d have it outside. When she wanted it under the stars, we did it there. Whether it was on the couch, the desk, the kitchen counter, the dining room table, or the spin cycle, Mary Ellen’s wish was my command. When she wanted to please herself on my face while I enthusiastically waited for her secretions, she did. What Mary Ellen wanted, Mary Ellen got.
After some weeks of this torrid affair, summer was coming to an end. By then I had kissed every millimeter of Mary Ellen’s body.
But a thought kept nagging me. As much as we enjoyed each other, I knew that this wasn’t best for her. The relationship was wrong. Mary Ellen was too young for me, and I was too old for her. As summer drew to an end, it was time to explain this to her.
“Babe, I don’t think our relationship can go any further,” I explained. She sat in silence, staring at me. “We’re at different stages of our lives. It’s our age difference,” I continued.
“Our age difference doesn’t bother me. We’re compatible. That’s all that matters.”
“We are, but I don’t think this relationship is fair for you. You’re a young chick. You deserve more than to settle down with an older man. I love you very much, Mary Ellen, and if I didn’t care about you I wouldn’t be saying this. You need a young man who can give you the things I can’t.”
“I love you, too, Tyler. I feel like I’ve known you all my life. You’re a true friend as well as a great lover.”
I blushed. “I only want what’s best for you, Mary Ellen. You’re a remarkable young woman. You’re pretty, personable, smart, and sexy. You have so much to offer a man. Granted, most boys your age won’t be wise enough to recognize your innate beauty, but a smart one will, and only one who appreciates how special you are deserves you. I know it’s difficult to find the right one, but he’s out there.”
She sat in silence for some moments. “Do you know anyone?” she asked.
Do I know anyone? No, I don’t know anyone.
Wait a second! Maybe I do. There was a student teacher at school. He was to start as a full time music teacher next week when school reopened. Patrick was his name. He was very shy and quiet. I had spoken to him several times in the teachers’ lounge. We talked about bluegrass music, jazz giants, blues, the roots of rock and roll, and the like. He was a nice guy. He just graduated college in May and was now working on his Master’s Degree. He never mentioned a wife or girlfriend. Come to think of it, I doubt he had any experience with women at all.
“I might,” I replied abstractedly, still thinking. I’d see him next week. I would to ask him, and if he was free, I could set him up with Mary Ellen. I didn’t say much more. I didn’t want to raise her hopes only to have them come crashing down.
On Monday I returned to school to set up the shop before classes officially started. I sought out the music teacher. After some talk about our summers, I came to the point. No, he didn’t have a girlfriend. I told him I might know someone. I told Patrick that if I gave him Mary Ellen’s number, I wanted him to call her, and soon.
“Today would be fine. Don’t make a lady wait,” I lectured. He called and they had their first date.
“So how do you like him,” I asked Mary Ellen the following night.
“Oh, I don’t know. He’s okay, I guess,” was her languid reply. I took that as a positive sign because I’ve heard lots of women say the same thing when describing their first impression of the guy with whom they fell in love and married.
“Are you going out again?” I asked.
“Yes, on Friday. There’s a country music artist in town and we’re going to her show.”
It was nice to hear that Mary Ellen had a proper date with a young man and they were doing something that young people enjoy doing. Mary Ellen stayed with me that night, initiating our intimacy with her soft feminine touch. She took me deeply in her mouth and gave me a fiery finish.
“If you do that for Patrick you’ll get a new car, diamonds, and a mink coat,” I teased. She laughed.
I sensed our affair was coming to an end and I was especially tender with her. I returned her kindness by giving her a gentle massage and worshiping her adorable vagina as she brought herself to a soothing finish. I let her calm, then mounted her and pressed myself into her.
Mary Ellen’s second date with Patrick went well and I could tell she was starting to like him. She stayed with me one more night. The summer was ending and fall was approaching. We had shared the exhilaration of new love all summer and were both a bit sad at its inevitable ending.
I was happy for Mary Ellen. She’d have a new young man. I wouldn’t be alone, but I’d miss her young touch. I would no longer be finishing three times a night at the hands of a young expert. I’d always love her and I wanted to stay near to her. We both knew this could be our last date. Mary Ellen’s giving persona was on full display. I pleased her as well, tenderly holding her in the afterglow, telling her what a pleasure it is to know her.
We actually had some double dates in the autumn. I was thrilled to see Patrick treat Mary Ellen kindly and respectfully. I knew he would. He seemed to adore her, as well he should, and I perceived that Mary Ellen liked him a lot. Mary Ellen and I never shared intimacy again, and we never again mentioned our fervent summer affair, keeping it instead in our fondest of memories.