Mature Dear Sweet Dee

Author's note: In the telling of this story, for obvious reasons, all names, places except for the time frames as noted have been changed/disguised to protect the confidentiality of everyone involved in this story. And please note for content of the story, all persons are 18 or older.
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Her name was Darlene Dimpledale, which is perhaps why she'd gone by the name Dee Dee, or simply Dee, for about as long as I'd known her. Which by now had been a very, very long time indeed.

My parents and I had lived next door to Dee and her husband Frank for years. I was an only child, and as I came to find out early on, Frank and Dee Dee never had any either. Though the reason for that was something I never found out as to why. But as such, Dee had taken to me as a second mother of sorts, always inviting me over for milk and cookies, and then later on when school was out for the summer, watching out and taking care of me. Something my mother was very appreciative of, as she and dad both had to work back then.

I didn't mind it at all either. Even as young as I was back then, I had a secret crush on Dee Dee, though the feelings I had back then weren't any I could really put my finger on as to why. I just liked her for some reason. Though perhaps it was because she was such a great cook, better than mom was, though I'd certainly never once told her that. But she was a great baker too. Always making pies, cookies...cakes. I found myself preferring to hang around with her during the day, more so than running off to play with friends. At times, she actually shooed me outside in order to force me into doing so, rather than hanging around with her all day.

And then Frank died. It was for a time one of the saddest times I'd ever been through. I had come to think of them as a surrogate Aunt and Uncle, even going so far as to call them that. It was a period of several long lonely months that Dee just seemed to withdraw into herself, and perhaps even age a little bit faster in the process. At most, she was only a few years older than my own mother, but I saw her begin to take on the look of a run down, lonely woman in a very short period of time.

I had just turned sixteen when Frank passed away.

It was now time to give back after all those years she had looked after, and taken care of me. With mom and dad's full approval of course, I continued to spend as much time as I could helping her out around the house. Doing odd jobs, mowing the lawn, raking up leaves, taking the trash out, whatever she needed doing, I was always Johnny on the spot. Never once did I feel obligated, put out, or put off in having to do things for her, no matter what they were.

Gradually, she slowly started to act like her old self once again. She'd even began putting on makeup again, something I hadn't seen her do in a very long time. She had even dyed her hair, taking out the few strands of grey she'd allowed to remain up until then. The moment she did that, looking ten, if not fifteen years younger again. Now even looking younger than my own mother was.

By the time I had turned seventeen, only one year away from graduation now, we'd gotten into such a place of comfortable familiarity with one another, that I had found myself being able to talk to her about things, subjects I could never discuss with either mom or dad. Sometimes they were personal things, and later as I'd actually started dating girls, they became even more intimate in nature. It happened so gradually, so smoothly that never not once did I think either one of us was uncomfortable or really embarrassed because of it. Dee became a sounding board for me, offering advice, and even at times, a few related personal experiences of her own time growing up as a teenager. It was nice, not to mention interesting, getting a perspective on things from a woman's point of view. I think it helped me understand girls a hell of a lot more than most, though even in understanding, it didn't always help me cope with the difficulties of raging hormones, or the adolescent silliness of growing up. For myself, or the girls. Dee just sat acting amused, remembering perhaps, and then would sit down and talk to me about it.

Like I said. I almost preferred spending time with her as opposed to spending it with any of my friends. Such was our relationship. And then one day, something profound changed things, and set things on a whole new course quite unexpectedly.

I had recently turned eighteen, graduation was only a couple of months away, and though it was my intention to further my education, I was also seriously considering entering into the service. I had a lot on my mind at the time. Decisions to make, and another one that I hadn't as yet told anyone about. Her name was Marjorie. My girlfriend. We'd been dating of course for well over a year now. Things had quite naturally progressed in the 'curiosity' department for both of us. Though Marjorie had told me early on, that she was saving it for when she got married, or baring that...only for sure if she felt like she had found the man she loved would she consider taking it that far even before marriage.

Marjorie and I had spent the last weekend in the front seat of my car going far beyond anything we had ever done up until then, just short of actually having intercourse, "going all the way" as we called it. It had been the most exciting time of my entire life up until then. But it had also left me wondering as well. Marjorie had hinted at the fact that she might..."might" she had said it twice, have a big surprise to give me on my birthday. Well, not quite on my birthday as that was in the middle of the week. But very possibly on the weekend after that. A weekend in which her parents were going to be away. The implications of that, without coming right out and saying it...were obvious.

I was nervous, excited, apprehensive, curious...and scared to death. And when I went over to mow the lawn on Saturday morning, Dee could see that something was bothering me and invited me inside. It had actually been a long time now since we'd just sat down and talked the way we used to do. Busy life, schedules...trying to grow up had naturally put some distance between us. But even with all that, we still had a smile to share, or a friendly word or two to give one another every time we saw one another. But again, it had been a long time since we'd just sat down together and had a nice long comfortable chat.

Unfortunately, I knew going in, as did she...this wasn't going to be one of those. Even though we both sat smiling at one another just like old times.

"Ok Jimmy," she began..."Spit it out, what's going on?"

By now of course I went by Jim. No one, and I mean no one called me Jimmy any more. Even mom had quit calling me by that name the day I turned sixteen and informed everyone...mom and dad especially, I wasn't a little boy any more, and that Jim, not Jimmy was the name I would answer to. The only one who did...still did, and who could honestly get away with it was Dee. To her, I'd be Jimmy no matter how old I was.

It was as though Dee knew my thoughts before I did. Just like the time I'd gone into my father's workshop looking for some nails for a clubhouse the other guys and I were building. For years there'd been this one cabinet that dad had kept locked, and his one and only warning to me back then had been to "Stay the fuck out!" I knew he was serious, because dad never said 'fuck' unless he meant it. So I had...until that very moment. Reason being, I noticed the lock wasn't actually locked. It had been left hanging open. I stood there staring at it, wondering what secrets existed behind that "fuck-lock" as I called it. But being the curious teenager that I was, I opened the cabinet, and then just stood there staring at it.

"Why on earth would dad feel it necessary to lock up a bunch of old dirty rags and service and maintenance manuals?" Standing there peeking in, that's initially all I could see at first. Until I raffled through a few of the books on the stack. Suddenly I knew why. It was a stash of dirty magazines. I certainly knew mom would come unglued if she knew dad had these, which is partially why he kept them out here in the shed of course. But the fact he even had them to begin with was an eye-opening moment for me. Dad wasn't the prude I'd always thought him to be. I quickly rummaged through the stack, glad that mom and dad were at work so I didn't fear anyone coming up on me while I was flipping through a few. Selecting two that I found quite interesting, I hurried back outside to where my friends stood waiting for me.

"Hey Jim, where's the nails?" Bob Petersen, my best friend and buddy asked me curiously as I shielded the books against myself, running towards them. His eyes suddenly opening wide when he saw me doing that. "Hey man...wha'd ya find?"

"Inside!" I said blowing past everyone. Though we still had some finishing work to do yet, the clubhouse for the most part was nearly finished. We'd even dragged in an old worn out couch and a chair as part of the décor, which I immediately plopped down in, holding the books out for everyone there to see. There were five of us in total, now sitting around passing the books around as we took turns quickly leafing through them.

"Fuck!" Bob said actually slipping his hand down inside his pants. "I'm getting horny!"

Don't laugh...it was the first time I'd ever heard the word. "Horny? What the hell's that?" I asked, though delighted to find out, I wasn't the only one that didn't know what it meant.

"This!" He exclaimed taking his hard swollen cock out, and immediately began jacking himself off. I too had been masturbating for a while now, as had we all...but never together, and certainly never in front of one another, or even admitting to one another that we ever did. But Bob being Bob, and basically the leader amongst us continued to do so, all the while looking at the magazines.

It was after when I'd gone over to Dee's to finish moving some things out of the house she was donating to charity that we had our first real serious discussion. I was abnormally quiet perhaps, a little withdrawn in a way, still struggling with what had happened earlier in the day inside our clubhouse.

"Sit down Jimmy...talk to me. What is it that's troubling you anyway?"

Like I said in the beginning. Dee might have been older than mom by a few years, but I didn't really look at her that way. We were friends more than anything else. Close friends, the kind of friend you could say anything too. At least that's the way Dee had taught me to believe with her. She'd kept secrets, confidences in the past. Maybe it hadn't been over anything quite this intimate, or "naughty-bad" as I now thought of it...but I still felt like I could trust her, not even being embarrassed about telling her what I'd found, and then what the guys and I had done while looking at the magazines together.

In a way...it was almost a relief to see the small knowing smile on her face as she sat there until I had told her everything. Every single detail without interrupting me even once.

"So what's the problem?" She asked. "You feeling guilty? Bad you did that?"

"Well yeah...sorta," I answered back.

"Good! You should feel guilty! For disobeying your father and getting into his cabinet, whether it was locked or not! But not for doing what you did with your friends afterwards," she said a bit more softly. "It's perfectly natural Jimmy," she told me. "Everyone does it...including me," she'd added, though the workings of that escaped me for the moment. But she continued before I could ask her a much more personal question, sidetracking me perhaps...wisely. "If you're feeling guilty about masturbating in front of your friends, or them doing the same in front of you...don't be. It's a perfectly normal, natural curiosity that all young men go through, even if most of them never admit to it. So don't go beating yourself up for it. If anything, enjoy this time of self-exploration, learn about yourself. And don't rush things either...you'll learn all about girls soon enough."

That however had been the conversation that had opened the door. After that, we talked openly, candidly about anything and everything. Whenever I had a question, or had heard something...I came to Dee and asked her. And I honestly have to say, I came away each and every time with an honest and complete answer. Dee never once held back, told me what it was I wanted to know, didn't go overboard, never gave me more than I'd asked, nor more than she felt I needed to know at the time to satisfy my curiosity or question.

Such then became the nature of our relationship. Dee became the best friend I ever had.

It was like going back in time. Dee sat waiting for me to do just that. Spit it out. Normally, or rather in the past I'd found it easy to do so. But it had after all been a while. Would she still be as receptive as she once was? Would I shock her by what I was considering, dealing with? I realized even as I asked myself that question, the answer was no. Not Dee.

"I think Marjorie wants to have sex...you know, intercourse, this weekend...tonight," I said running everything together...spitting it all out so to speak.

"I see. And what do you want?" She asked me point blank. "Do you want to have sex with her? And if I may ask Jimmy...are we talking about losing our virginity here if you do?"

Oh she was indeed the wise one. She had always asked things in such a way that it forced you to honestly think about them before answering. Giving her an honest answer in return, especially as she'd always given me one.

"Yeah, I do. I mean...well, we've sort of done everything else but that," I freely admitted to her, doing so without reservation, though I did notice she raised her eyebrows just a little upon hearing that. "And yeah...we both are," I added then, though hearing the reluctance in my own tone of voice upon hearing myself say that.

"You're not ready. Not even now," she said equally as soft, but yet a bit more firmly. "If you were Jimmy...you wouldn't be hesitating right now. If Marjorie is the right girl for you, and I'm not speaking about waiting until you get married before you decide to do that. Heaven's knows...Frank and I certainly didn't. And I didn't lose mine to Frank in the first place. I lost my virginity to a man older than I was, who knew what he was doing, and to whom I will forever be grateful."

"No shit? Really?" I asked, forgetting my manners for a moment as I had hardly ever sworn in front of Dee before. Luckily, she laughed it off though, not even chastising me for the obscenity.

"Yeah, but I was ready. I knew it was what I really wanted, even though I knew there was no future in it for he and I. That's not what it was about for me. And it shouldn't be for you either. If Marjorie's the one...she'll wait. Just as you should. If she isn't...well, then you won't be looking back on this moment years from now and wishing that you really had waited. You want my advice Jimmy?" She asked. Which she always did. Just like that. And then she waited, never offering, never giving it, unless I honestly and truly wanted to hear it. And for sure...this time I did.

"Yeah, I would Dee. I really, really would."

"You said you've done everything else. Can I assume from that, you've pleasured her orally?"

Ok, don't laugh. I obviously still had a lot to learn here. "Her?"

Though she did. "Yes Jimmy...her," she chuckled a bit. "I take it, she's pleasured you that way, taken your cock into her mouth, sucking it."

I had seriously forgotten how candid she could be with me. I guess most would have thought she'd have used the more clinical term, "penis" when describing that particular male appendage. But...she'd said cock in front of me before, and pussy too. So hearing her say that didn't exactly set me back on my haunches. Now...hearing her say, "sucking it" did. That was indeed a sex thing, a describing what you do...or wanted to do, or did sort of sex thing...sex act. But I sat there asking myself the question, suddenly everything else no longer important to me. "Had she?" Obviously she must have, but it wasn't exactly something you normally sat there and pondered over. Until now.

"Ah yeah...she has. And ah no...I ah...I ah, haven't," I stammered just a bit, finally admitting to her I hadn't reciprocated in that way. Though to be perfectly honest about it, the subject of my doing that to her...for her, hadn't exactly come up either. Obviously...we hadn't done just about everything. There were still a few things. Well...a whole bunch of things actually, we hadn't done.

"I see," She said again sitting back in her chair, rocking a little, that same knowing bemused smile on her face. "So tell me Jimmy...have you?"

"No." I said easily, honestly...and sincerely. I never had. Never even thought about it until that very moment. And perhaps to some, when that moment came, they'd think about it, wonder about it, hesitate, and maybe even, find it disgusting or a revolting thought. But not me. I sat there, not realizing I was actually becoming aroused, not just yet anyway, though I was. But my mind was lost in the thought...actually licking pussy, not just fingering the way I had done. Which had been pleasurable and exciting enough in its own way. At least I wasn't so naive that I didn't know what a clit was, or that it felt good to a girl when you touched it, played with it. But I'd never actually considered licking it...until now. But not only that. As the image suddenly filled my head, as I sat there imagining myself actually doing that, it suddenly dawned on me. It wasn't Marjorie's pussy I was considering or thinking about doing that to. It was Dee's! It was the image once again of her standing there in her backyard, naked...taking the sheets down off the line. Only in my mind, I was kneeling there in front of her, also naked...rigidly hard, my fingers pulling her pussy lips apart, that sweet delicious looking clit of hers (I could only imagine it being so of course) as I knelt there licking it.

"Jimmy? Jimmy? Earth to Jimmy!" She said shaking me back to the present.

"Oh sorry..." I said feeling my face reddening; though I am sure Dee took it for embarrassment on my part as she shook her head positively at me.

"My advice," she then said sitting up again in her rocking chair. "Tell her you'd rather wait, not rush into it for one thing. I'm willing to bet, she's not really ready either Jimmy, and I'm willing to bet you one of my home-made pies, that she'll thank you for it afterwards, if you don't. But...maybe what you should do, is surprise her."

"How?"

"By doing what she's already done for you, by going down on her...or rather, licking her pussy if you will."

God I was hard, sitting there hearing her say that. Once again the image however, not of Marjorie, my girlfriend...but of Dee. And I knew at that very moment, I wasn't ready. Not with Marjorie anyway...I liked her. I liked her a lot. But I knew at that very moment. I wasn't in love with her. And doing something, like taking advantage of that, taking her virginity when I wasn't, or giving mine to her either for that matter, wasn't something either one of us should be doing under the circumstances. And to be perfectly honest about it, I now had to wonder about the rest of it too.

"But...I've never done it, not even sure how to do it for one thing. And what if...she doesn't like it? Or doesn't want me to?"

Once again she laughed. "Oh honey...one thing you're going to soon learn about women. We all love having our cunts licked."

OK...THAT was a new one. Cunt was a thing guys spoke about to one another, cunt...pussy...split, snatch, twat...hell, we had a bunch of names (never vagina though...isn't that funny?) But hearing a woman use a guys word (back then it was anyway) or...maybe not. Regardless, hearing Dee use it. Well...that damn near pulled the trigger on the gun in my holster.

She sighed then, her eyes closed as though remembering she once had. "Or at least I certainly used to," she added even more softly than anything she'd said before, which is also when I noticed a small tear run down the side of her face, which she hurriedly wiped away, turning as though hoping I hadn't seen it. Too late. I had.

"You're crying!" I said standing out of worry and concern for her, totally forgetting for the moment that in doing so, I had inadvertently displayed myself. Not something I would have normally done, and now painfully aware of the fact that I had as she was looking down, or rather at me...which then drew my own head down paying attention to myself. Had it been any other moment in history...I'd have probably been proud. I don't think I'd ever been that hard, that full...that erect, my jeans bulging out so much so, that a blind man (or woman) would have felt the change in the air surrounding it.

And then I said a word I'd never once said in front of her before. "Fuck! Dee! I'm sorry!"

Once again she had laughed, but put me immediately at ease. "It's ok Jimmy, I've said that one a few times myself," she continued chuckling, though her eyes remained glued to the very obvious, very pronounced erection sticking out of my pants. "I think though...it's probably time for you to return home and perhaps get ready for this evening. Just remember what I told you...if it feels right, then ok. If it doesn't...well then, you've still got plenty of time before you rush into anything."

She actually stood then, walking forward to hug me. (Yeah...picture this), so I'm bending (or bowing if you prefer) trying very delicately here not to poke her in the stomach with what is a very obvious, almost painful erection. She's still chuckling while we do this, giving me a soft little kiss on the cheek as she did. Now that's not abnormal either, but it did seem to linger for like a split second longer than usual, not to mention the fact, bowed/bent as I am, for some reason her fairly large full breasts seemed to press against me a bit more than normally as well. And of course, that did little if anything to squelch the predicament I now found myself in.

I finally backed away, or rather almost pushed away, just as she did, that damndable smile still on her face, and worse, another obvious glance downwards towards my crotch as we did that.

"Maybe...you should do something about that before tonight," she now laughed pleasantly, and even sighed when she said that. "Ah...to be young again," she finished, and then stood there at the doorway waving at me as I hurriedly (somewhat still stooped over mind you) towards my place.

Luckily for me, no one was home, so I managed to make it upstairs to my room without any further incidents. But, I had already made the decision to indeed "do something about it" as Dee had said, even if Marjorie and I ended up "doing it" or doing other things later on this evening.

What I now knew however...strange as it sounded. And what likewise bothered me to some extent, was the fact I knew with one hundred percent certainty, that I wasn't in love with Marjorie. The person I was in love with...was Dee.

Once inside my room, I literally tore my clothes off jumping onto my bed. I honestly believe this was the horniest I had ever been, which was odd in a way, as except for a little erotic banter between us, and the kiss...and the feel of Dee's soft full breasts pushing against me, well hell...there just wasn't much more than that. Certainly not enough that it should have made me this horny, this aroused. And yet...I was. I didn't have one of those monster cocks you're always hearing about. Average sized perhaps, though I was a bit thicker around than most I suppose. But what I was at the moment, was fucking harder than I ever remembered being before. Looking down at my own dick, the head of it seemed to have ballooned up to mushroom size, a dark deep purple color in fact, which was again something relatively new to me. I wrapped my fist around it, squeezing it...watched the emergence of not just one droplet, but a sudden runoff of pre-cum fuck batter, and then did so again, producing yet another pearly little silly string of juice that now clung to my fingers like a spider-web.

After I had spent several long minutes just teasing the shit out of myself, I began pumping it seriously up and down. Slowly at first, but with ever increasing rapidity as my mind suddenly went into overdrive. I now found myself accessing archives that I had long since locked away in memory, not a whole lot of them mind you, and not many that probably most guys would have held onto for their masturbatory fantasy material. But the truth of it was, each and every one of them had something to do with Dee for as far back as I could remember, and as far back as each and every incident qualified as "cock-throb" material.

I had even gone so far as to catalog them in order of priority. Like the day I'd gone over to help rake up leaves, needing another bag, walking over to ask her where she kept them. She was kneeling down of course, leaning over pulling out a few stubborn weeds with her hand. As she did, her blouse had opened considerably, giving me my first ever look at the smooth softness of those magnificent tits of hers. Unfortunately, she was wearing a bra, though even seeing that, most of it in fact, had sent me running off to my room a short time later.

My second filed away fantasy of hers had been when she'd tripped and fallen. Maybe it shouldn't have been one under the circumstances, and wasn't at the time as I'd been genuinely concerned for her. But she'd just retrieved a bag full of groceries out of her car, turned to head into the house just as I came out. Seeing me, she waved, but in doing so, forgot to look where she was going and tripped over the hose in her yard, suddenly she's falling, groceries spilling everywhere at once. Naturally I ran over to her to help her up, and then help collect the spilled contents now scattered everywhere. This was my second look down mammary lane, though this time, I got to see both boobs, sans bra, she hadn't worn one!

As I lay there in bed, pleasantly stroking myself up and down, I clicked off each and every little incident one by one, working my way up to number one as I did so, trying to time the orgasmic bliss I was rapidly approaching before reaching it. That day...that very special day, which was in fact only a few weeks ago now, had made it to the top of the list by leaps and by bounds.

Oddly enough, I had stayed home not feeling well. I wasn't dead-sick, just the sniffles, sneezes and typical cough that good old mom had used in her own concern, to convince me to stay home rather than go to school. (I owe you one mom) I later told myself. Outside, it had started to thunder and lightning, something that always fascinated me, and which I enjoyed watching. Walking over to my bedroom window to look out, it was then that it started to rain and rain pretty hard. Suddenly before I even realized what it was I was looking at, Dee came sprinting out of her back door into the back yard. I knew then what was happening.

She'd put out several sets of sheets to dry out on the line as opposed to throwing them in the drier, something my mom very often did as well, preferring the smell of wind-dried sheets, just as Dee obviously did. In a hurry perhaps, or maybe (as I later wondered) having just gotten out of the shower, and then realizing it was about to rain, she'd coming running outside. I saw her turn, starting to undo the clothespins, which is when the robe she was wearing, came completely open. She made no effort to retie it either, the rain truly starting to come down now. But I stood there in my window, (though why I now did this I don't really know) stepping back a little, though still keeping a good eye down on where she was. Both breasts, both of those incredibly beautiful, full bouncy tits staring at me.

Each one with humongous (ok, maybe they weren't THAT humongous) but when you're seeing them for the first time, they sure as hell looked like it...areolas. Dark brown, (something to do with her heritage perhaps, since Dee had once said she had Spanish blood in her) and then this small little dark patch between her legs. It wasn't this unruly looking triangle either, but it acted like a beacon to me as I stood there in the window looking down at her. I was seeing her for the first time ever...completely naked!

And then I remember her looking up towards my room. I had stood frozen, looking down at her, wondering if she could see me, had seen me. But she merely looked away, finished pulling down the rest of the sheets off the line, and never once made an effort to cover herself up as she finished doing that. She then turned and headed back inside the house.

It never failed...just before the turn, I erupted, as I was doing now. Needless to say, I'd cum a lot thinking about that moment, but I have to also say...laying there the way I was now, horny as I said I truly was, I began spurting unlike anytime I had ever spurted before in my entire life. It was almost impressive enough that I felt like telling someone. (I said almost). The first few spurts actually surprising me, going well up and over the top of my head, hitting the headboard, if not the wall behind me, (which I later ended up cleaning up after) but after those, readjusting my aim just a little, I was still surprised and in awe of myself as I emptied my nuts against myself, finally having to cup my hand over my dick because it was spurting so much. I even briefly wondered if there was some sort of a valve I'd somehow fucked up, thus allowing my cock to continue to pump out streamers of white sticky stuff as I'd never squirted this much of it in my entire life before. Finally, as it began to ebb, and now just ooze slightly out of the tip, I released my dick, still seeing stars, still trying to catch my breath...and the image of Dee standing there in her yard looking up at me forever frozen in time as I lay there.

And then my phone rang.

"Fucking A!" I jumped scaring myself to death when I did. "Now what?"

It was Marjorie, and she was balling her eyes out. "Oh Jim! Jim! My God damn, fucking little sister!" She wailed uncontrollably over the phone.

It was a day of firsts all the way around. Never once had I heard Marjorie cuss like that before. A few sprinkled damns, hells, and even a shit or two once, but never once had I heard her say God Damn, or EVER use the proverbial "F" word!

"Calm down Majiee" I said using the cutesy affectionate name I'd begun calling her, which usually did the trick...but not this time as she kept talking over me even then. "What happened?"

"She...she...she told mom and dad!"

"Told them what?" I asked as the hairs on the back of my neck suddenly stood up. I knew her dad, he'd as soon kill me as look at me, and he was twice the size of any man I knew, so I also knew he could do it too!

"Oh Jim, Jimmy...I'm sorry, I shouldn't have ever confided in the little shit, she...she told them about our plans for this weekend!"

I was stunned hearing that, Suzie, Marjorie's little sister could indeed be a pain in the royal ass, and usually was whenever I came over, always hanging around us as though hoping to catch us doing anything. So I wasn't too surprised at that. What I was surprised at, was Marjorie actually confiding something like that in her.

"Why did she do that?" I finally managed to ask her.

"Be...because she was jealous that's why! Jealous because mom and dad were forcing her to go with them over the weekend rather than letting her stay home with me. That's why! So she told them! Told them you were coming over after they left, so we could...'do it!'" She all but whispered into the phone. Which then made me wonder just how close her parents were to her as she stood there talking to me, though I'm sure she'd already had to sneak away just to make this phone call.

"So now what?"

Marjorie started bawling again, which took me another several minutes in which to calm her down enough to talk coherently to me. "They...they're, oh god Jimmy! They're making me go to my Aunts house for the entire summer!" She burst out once more. "And they're making me go with them tonight too!" She now added. "I'm...I'm upstairs here in my room packing now, which is the only way I could have a moment to call you...tell you what was happening! Oh Jimmy! Daddy said I wasn't ever to see or speak to you again...if I did, if I do...he's...he's threatened to ship me off to some sort of girls school instead of University in the fall!"

I was speechless...sad in a way too. And yet...strangely elated.

"I have to go Jimmy," she said crying once again. "But...I'll, I'll write. I promise! I'll write you every day, somehow...someway, we'll make this work Jimmy. I swear it! I promise! I'll write you!"

So much for Marjorie. Though as it worked out, she only wrote me one letter. A dear John, or in my case a dear Jim. Which was just as well, all things considered.

But that phone call, that moment in history, brought about the most amazing memory, most amazing experience I ever had. And I had no clue it was coming either. Not until two hours later.

I actually was a little bummed after we'd hung up. Especially when I went looking for my two, (maybe it was three) errant cum-shots that had splattered against the headboard of the bed and against the wall behind that. Whatever hopes, plans...or assignations that had been scheduled for later, had suddenly evaporated.

Though weirdly...my cock still hadn't. Sure...it had gone down some, but it was still pretty fucking firm as I stood there looking down at myself. Horny is as horny does. But in this case at least, twisting another well-known phrase just a bit. I had a boner, and no place to go.

But at least there was Dee. And I smiled. If nothing else, I could go over, tell her what had just happened, maybe even get a sympathetic hug out of it, a peek down her blouse if nothing else...and add a fantasy file to my memory banks. At least losing Marjorie (though I didn't know it at the time that I really had) wouldn't be a total waste.

I stood in the shower as though I was getting ready for a date anyway, whistling...actually happy, excited, looking forward to perhaps milking the evening now at Dee's place with my tales of woe's me and all that. I was even then imagining Dee holding my head against her breasts trying to comfort me...feeling my dick stiffening there in the shower...half tempted to work it again. Though I refrained from doing so, wanting the full-on "horniness" of the moment to encase me when I went over there.

Needless to say, Dee was surprised when I showed up on her door two hours later. "Dee? I need a friend," I said.

They were the best five words I'd ever spoken to her.

"What happened Jimmy? What's wrong?"

And so I told her, though I didn't say it with a smile on my face, or with any of the oddly felt joy I was keeping inside. Like I said, my heart was skipping beats at the moment with the sudden realization of the secret I now had, the secret I couldn't tell anyone...especially Dee, that I knew what love felt like...for the first time in my life, because I felt it for her. Something I also knew, was a total and complete impossibility. And so I told her everything that had happened, and Dee...just like always sat there listening, though this time sitting beside me, and yes...towards the end, she pulled me towards her, placing her hand on the back of my head, and guess what...(Joy oh joy!) pressing me against those soft pliant breasts as I actually began to blubber just a bit. Not an act either. I was sad, yet I was also happy as a clam, and a little scared...a little nervous, a little melancholy, and a whole lot aroused.

"You know, I shouldn't be doing this, but since you are eighteen now, and soon out on your own here...I've never felt like if a man's old enough to fight for his country, that he shouldn't be old enough to have a drink." Dee knew of course I was contemplating going into the service, something Uncle Frank had done in having fought during the second world war. And with that, she then stood, walked over to a small cabinet where I know she kept a few bottles of liquor, mostly for guests or special occasions. Apparently, this was one of those. She pulled out a bottle of brandy, and poured each of us a shot glass. Bringing one over to me, she sat down beside me once again. "To life...and all its ups and downs." She toasted, clinking my glass, and then began to drink just as I added my own toast to that...though why on earth I then said what I did...still escapes me.

"And to all its ins and outs!" I added. "Or lack thereof."

Dee spewed her brandy...all over me. My bad...my fault, but it really was funny. And we both sat laughing so hard because of it that our sides began to ache, and then she saw my fresh clean shirt all covered with spewed brandy.

"Oh Jimmy! I'm so sorry!" She said honestly aghast, embarrassed and ashamed that she's basically spit-up all over me. "Take off that shirt so I can throw it in some water before it stains and becomes ruined!"

It's not like she hadn't seen me with a shirt off before. Plenty of times. And even as I took it off now, it didn't seem weird or inappropriate in doing so. But she was helping me remove it too, the neck was a bit tight, and the gold chain I wore around my neck had gotten caught on the collar. She was reaching up trying to untangle that before I inadvertently broke it. Losing my balance, I quite naturally reached out to steady myself. And when I did that, my hands came into contact with her breasts, just as she yanked and now pulled the shirt off me over the top of my head. We were both standing there looking at one another, my hands had been on her tits for a split second at least until the shirt came off. And then I did something I never thought I would.

I kissed Dee.

And then Dee kissed me back.

It felt like a dream after that. We didn't even really talk about it. We just sort of moved as though knowing one day this would happen, that somehow, someway, this was meant to happen. After we kissed, I didn't even ask her if it was ok. I just reached out again, this time placing both hands on both of her breasts, and stood there touching, caressing them. Dee closed her eyes, her head tilted back just slightly. And then I reached up, and undid the first button on her blouse. I even paused waiting a moment, fearing the words, "Jimmy...don't, we can't."

They never came.

I undid another button, and then another and another. The whole time her eyes remained closed, her mouth partially open as though trying to find breath, praying internally, her mouth moving a little as she stood there. Maybe she actually was. I knew I was...praying she wouldn't suddenly wake up and realize what she was letting me do. Thank God she didn't. (Sorry God...but I mean seriously here ya know?)

She was wearing a bra. Which I was now staring at. Up until this very moment, this was the most erotic, exciting moment of my entire life. And she was wearing a bra! And I was about to reach around her, and undo it. And she was waiting for me to do just that. And so I did. And yeah...I fumbled with it, fumbled with it some more. She laughed, opened her eyes for the first time.

"Want me to get it?"

It was a guy thing. At least for me it was anyway. And a pride thing too. And it was also funny in another way. It was 1967, and the Graduate had just recently come out. So here we were...I was Dustin Hoffman, and she was Anne Bancroft, and I was fumbling with her bra still trying to get it off, and then I felt her hands come down, and begin undoing my zipper.

I think she had me out, before I finally had her tits out. I don't honestly remember. All I know is, suddenly we were kissing again, fiercely, hotly, passionately. My hands now once again firmly on her boobs...bare boobs this time, with hard nipples...really hard nipples. And her hand was on my cock...my dick, my prick...pick one. Her hand was on it. And I was in heaven. And soon to be inside my own Mrs. Robinson.

Once again without even saying the words, coming to a mutual consensus perhaps subconsciously, she then just reached out taking my hand in hers. I then followed her up the stairs to her bedroom, letting her lead me, where we then stood and finished undressing ourselves. Her on one side of the bed, me on the other. I'll always remember that...and remember this too. We had a thing...a pact we called it. It was something we had done early on...way back when I was a little kid, a thing we started doing, an assurance of sorts that whatever was said, whatever was spoken between us would never be revealed or spoken about behind one another's backs. We'd crook out index finger, and then lock them around one another, pulling back until we'd forced them apart. It was a promise we made one another.

She crooked her finger.

I crooked mine. And we walked around to the foot of the bed.

"Promise me Jimmy. Whatever happens here...pact," she said simply.

"Pact," I responded back. And then we locked fingers and pulled on them. Only this time...neither one of us pulled them apart. We stood there keeping them encircled together. And then we kissed again, only then releasing one another, hands and arms coming up and around one another as we embraced, and then tumbled sideways onto the bed together.

It was really cool too. She crawled up on top of me...me on my back. Hard as a fucking rock, though she wasn't looking at that, not yet anyway. She was looking into my eyes, and I was looking into hers. They say it's the window to the soul. I know...sounds a little corny, but honest to God (sorry) I honestly believe it was. I honestly believe I was looking at hers, and she was looking at mine.

"If you're not ready..."

"I am," I said simply. "More than ever."

And then Mrs. Dimpledale, Mrs. Fucking Dee Dee Dimpledale, slid her gorgeous, sweet, wet succulent pussy down over my cock.

And I spurted. Just like that.

I suppose it could have been the most traumatic experience of my entire life. God knows (sorry again there God, but geese....couldn't you have foreseen that part?) it could have. But all Dee Dee did was sit there, feeling me release, feeling me squirt, feeling me empty my balls into her and she'd just technically seconds...hell, milliseconds ago taken my virginity. She could have said something like, "Well shit!" Or..."Damn Jimmy!" Or...anything along those lines and maybe ruined me for life.

What she said was.

"Yes Jimmy yes...love me, give me your love, keep giving it to me Jimmy...all of it. And then give it to me again."

I don't know how she did it...or how I did it. But I stayed hard, stayed inside her. And we just sat there. Me...feeling my own stuff dribbling back down out of her pussy, and she sitting there, suddenly...the contractions, the muscles grabbing me. Hearing her sigh pleasurably, telling me how long it had been since she'd had anyone inside her. (I couldn't think of a single solitary person since Frank who might have) regardless...I was. Deep inside, and she was somehow magically milking me with her cunt, or rather working me hard again...harder still. And then she was moving on me, up and down now...slowly, softly. And I was moving up, and down...in and out, meeting her. And we were floating, like three feet above the bed, or so it seemed anyway.

And then we played, and laughed...and fucked, and made love. And I got to reach up and wrap my hands around those breasts of hers again as we did that. And she laughed, and she cried, and we both did...almost deliriously so. And for the first time ever, I called her "My Sweet Dee," later adding to that, "My Sweet (naughty) Dee," which she truly loved, though only letting me ever call her than when we were alone. And was she ever. I soon learned one thing about Dee I had never imagined, and that was just how truly naughty she could honestly be. Maybe it was making up for lost time or something, I don't know...I never really asked. But in addition to being my Mrs. Robinson, she was also my Mrs. Jekyll & Hyde too. Only in good way...a sexy way, a really wild...naughty way.

I didn't know that profanity, vulgarity, obscenity...could sound so cool, so good...so totally all right. Especially when coming out of the mouth of a woman that you might otherwise consider or think of as a mother. (I never again did by the way). It was simply put...fucking hot.

"Fuck me Jim...please honey...fuck me."

Oh yeah...almost forgot. Dee never called me Jimmy again after that day. It was like she needed to make that transition as well, and suddenly had.​