(You can skip ahead a bit if you're only interested in the sex.)

Well, enough with the bitching and moaning. My appreciation to everyone who left a comment on the last entry, it's nice to know that at least my complaining isn't vanishing off into the ether, and that my problem is hardly unique. I am still no closer to understanding how the mind of the fairer sex operates, but I think Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle may come into play there.

I drive about an hour each way to and from work every day, so I spend entirely too much time in my car. For the last few weeks, I've had enough of the radio, so I'd been mostly listening to the CDs in my changer. Finally I was sick of them too (and it's in the trunk, so it's not like I can switch out the CDs once I'm on the road), so I was looking around for something else to listen to, and remembered that I had an old box of tapes that had recently been rescued from Vicki's garage in the back seat. So I fished them out, and popped in a mix tape.

This particular tape is one I made in the fall of 1993, which is a few months after I'd graduated from college and moved to Sin City. I made it to listen to on long trips to see the girl I was madly and completely in love with at the time. Her name was Elizabeth.

What would be your answer if you were dying, and someone asked you, "Who was the the great love of your life?"

I don't know what my answer would be. Eventually, I think I would say Mary Anne, who I'm married to, which is the answer it should be. At one time I suppose I might have said my first wife, Vicki. At the end of high school and college, I had a girlfriend that I was with for two and a half years, and had we been older and not ended up at schools eight hours apart, I might well have married her, so she might have been my great love had things been different. Then there were Ally, Christine, Maria... and all the things that might have been, had things simply worked out a little differently.

I don't know that I was ever as head-over-heels for any of them as I was for Elizabeth, though. Yep, I had it bad, and that ain't good. It's undoubtedly a good thing that she eventually broke it off with me, because with her I took leave of all my common sense. To say she had me wrapped around her little finger is being far too kind. I did a million stupid things and made thousands of dumb decisions because of her. Oh, it's all my own fault - I made my own bed there. Even though she was bad for me, and mostly made bad things happen to me, ultimately I was the one who was responsible for it all.

(Here's an example - Elizabeth smoked, and while I'd been a "social smoker" before I met her, once I got serious with her I became a four-packs-a-week smoker, simply because she smoked. Eventually I mostly quit once I managed to get out of her clutches, though I still enjoy a casual cigarette from time to time.)

The fact that I was ultimately responsible for my actions and choices doesn't change the fact that she was, quite simply, a bad and evil person. In some ways, in the end, perhaps what I really learned from her was how to be more heartless myself. Certainly after she ripped my own heart out of my chest and got done with jumping up and down on it while wearing spiked heels, it was never the same.

I'll never love like that again. That may not be a bad thing.

I wonder, sometimes, how much of the way she treated me was just her evil nature, and how much was just immaturity. God knows that I was a real shit to some of the girls I was involved with when I was about the age she was when we were dating. Perhaps she grew out of it. I hope so, if only for the sake of whichever poor sap she's fucking these days.

Sometimes I imagine running into her somewhere, sitting down and talking to her, and finding out if she was sorry for the way things happened for us.

I don't think that would be a good idea, though. I can easily imagine her acting sorry, and the old spark being there, and having her suck me right back in. I can also see her doing that to me just to see if she still could, regardless of how she really felt. So, much as I would looooooove so see her again, and how much I would really really love to fuck her again (oh, I've learned a few things since those days!), that would almost certainly be a bad idea.

Then again, it's been ten years, it's quite possible she's gotten fat and ugly and I wouldn't be that attracted to her any more, exorcising those old ghosts once and for all. It's possible. But I'm not going to chance it if I have any say in the matter.

Anyway, since this is supposed to be a sex diary, and there's been a lot more bitching and moaing about sex than actual sex in here lately (hey, don't blame me, I haven't gotten any action in real life in over two weeks now), let's get back to basics here.

(THE GOOD STUFF BEGINS HERE.)

I was 22 when I met Elizabeth. I'd just graduated from college, and over the summer I worked essentially as a counselor for a program at the University that brought in rising high school seniors from around the country to live in the dorms for the summer and take summer classes for credit to get a jump on college. She was a student in the program, and had just turned 17 a couple of months earlier (see, there was almost nothing about this relationship that shouldn't have screamed "BAD IDEA!!!" to me at every turn. Sigh.) I lived in one of the dorms, overseeing a section with 10 boys, and Elizabeth lived on the same floor of the adjoining dorm, separated only by a couple of fire doors.

The program was about seven weeks long, and after about three weeks of it, Elizabeth and I were spending a lot of time together (the kids were in class for about six hours a day, and the staff people - like me - really had nothing to do other than to keep an eye on them and make sure that the same number of kids went home at the end of the term as had arrived at the beginning - if we had no deaths, no pregnancies, and no arrests, that was a good summer). Unbeknownst to everyone else, including Elizabeth, I was actually fucking another girl in the program (that's a story for another day, and yes, I am a horrible and morally degenerate person), but as I got closer to Liz I started to cool things off with her. At the same time, I was still dating Christine, which everyone knew about, though she wasn't around very much.

(And at other points that summer, I was also fucking Ally, Marilyn, and another girl who I haven't talked about previously yet - I swear there were a couple of months there where I spent just about every night with my cock in *somebody's* pussy. This is what I refer to as "the good old days".)

So, as the summer went on, Liz and I were spending most of our free time together. I was horribly attracted to her. At the same time, I was still fucking this other girl (and because this wasn't complicated enough, they were friends, largely because they both spent a lot of time hanging out with me), so it was interesting trying to spend time alone with each of them without anyone - particularly each other - thinking anything was suspicious (needless to say, counselors fucking students was pretty heavily frowned upon). I suspect that the fact that everyone knew I already had a serious girlfriend (who worked in the department of the University that administered the program I was working for and the girls were students in) was good camoflage, but really to this day I'm amazed that we apparently got away with it all summer without anyone ever getting wind of it. So, I couldn't take the risk of letting her know that I wanted her.

But oh my lord, she was gorgeous. Her face was merely pretty, but the rest of her could - and did - turn heads wherever she went. She was about 5'6, probably about 135 pounds (practically all of it tits and muscle, at least when I met her), and she had the most fantastic breasts I have ever seen. 36DD. And not like big tits on a BBW - she was pretty much average sized except for her incredible rack. Great ass, too, and she was tight and toned from running track (she ran the hurdles). Masses of long, curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes. To give you some idea of what a complete fox she was, her younger sister was a cheerleader, and Liz was definitely hotter than she was. And as if that wasn't enough, she was from the deep South, and she had a drawl so thick you could use it to insulate your house (Mary Anne has almost the same accent, and occasionally she sounds so much like Liz that it gives me a chill). That may not be your cup of tea, but it personally makes me weak in the knees.

To make it worse, she was just at that age where a teenage girl blossoms from being a pretty adolescent, almost overnight becoming an in-your-face sex machine. High, juicy tits that defy gravity and seem explode off their chests like guided missiles, tight flat tummies, asses you could bounce a quarter off, long toned legs, and deadly curves that scream "woman!" without the gentle padding that accumulates with maturity. To this day I can't resist these newly-minted young women, and I didn't have a prayer of avoiding becoming her helpless victim if she had the wit to take advantage of me.

Whether luckily or unluckily for me, she did.

One evening we were up in my room. For some reason there weren't many people around the dorm that night, but we had the door closed anyway. We were sitting on my bed, talking about various stuff, as we had been doing for a while. The bed was back in the corner of the room, and she lay down on the left side of the the bed (the side that was against the wall). She lay on her back, with one arm back behind her head. That made her tits stick out at me, while she laid back, looking for all the world like she was simply waiting to be ravished. She wore shorts and a t-shirt, and her thighs were gently apart, invitingly teasing me. My God, she looked hot.

I'd been sitting sort of cross-legged on the middle of the bed, facing her. After a couple of minutes of this, I couldn't stand it any more. I turned my back to her, and lay down beside her, facing the other way, not touching her. I sighed heavily, frustratedly.

"What's the matter, P?" she drawled huskily, teasingly.

I sighed again. In frustration, I gave her an honest answer.

"I'm just trying really hard not to be tempted."

I could almost hear her smile wickedly.

"Gee, P, is little ol' me tempting you?"

The smart thing to do here, the responsible thing, would have been to make some smartass comment to defuse the sexual tension. But I was dying to fuck this sexy Lolita lying invitingly in my bed. I took a chance.

"Yeah, you could say that."

For an agonizing moment, there was silence. Then she answered me, matter-of-factly.

"Good. Because I've been doing my damnedest."

There was the green light. Immediately, I turned over to face her, and our lips met. Frantically we kissed, hands running over each other's bodies, weeks of pent-up passion flooding over us both, sweeping us forward. No more words were exchanged. I needed no more permission and she needed to give none. Pausing only a moment for me to lock the door and grab a condom from a drawer, we hastily undressed each other, touching, tasting, finally indulging the mutual desires we'd both kept pent up for so long. We were of a single mind. We needed to fuck.

Our clothes were strewn all over the floor, where we'd ripped them from each other's bodies in passionate haste. Finally naked together, she spread her creamy teenage thighs for me, as I rolled on the rubber and knelt between her legs. Her muff had a thick patch of dark blonde hair covering her mound, but almost none around her pussy lips. I positioned the huge, throbbing head of my cock at her lips, and with gentle but insistent strokes, I opened her cunt to my cock and worked my insanely hard dick into her hungry, willing pussy.

It's difficult to describe how good fucking her felt. To this day, I've never met anyone with softer skin than Liz. She was certainly no virgin (her boyfriend had first fucked her at 15, and earlier this very summer she'd been fucked by some guy she met at the beach out in the ocean in broad daylight), but her pussy was hot and wet and tight and gripped my cock like a slippery velvet glove. And she looked so incredibly sexy, lying back across the bed beneath me, blonde hair strewn across my pillow, massive tits rubbing against my chest, skin flushed, blue eyes wide, panting beneath me as she got fucked with hard, deep strokes. As it always would be, it required all of my self control to keep from exploding inside her in the first half-dozen strokes. But I kept it together, and concentrated on giving her the fucking of her young life.

She was getting wild beneath me. Almost overwhelmed with passion, she was starting to get noisy. Frantically, I put a hand over her mouth to muffle her moans, worried that someone would hear her - if they did, there wouldn't be any question what was going on behind my locked door, because it was definitely the sound of someone getting deeply and completely fucked.

I don't know how long this went on - probably twenty or thirty minutes. The college graduate fucking the high school senior, the summer program student fucking her counselor. Our bodies joined together at cock and cunt, moving in delicious harmony, no words necessary, the universe vanishing around us to encompass only our young, hot bodies fucking each other with complete abandon, heedless of the consequences or all the ways we knew what we were doing was wrong. Only the fuck. In that moment, it was all we knew. We shared it, experiencing each other with ultimate intimacy, forging a bond that in its own mystical way could never be broken. The moment would end, but we would always share this fuck.

Nothing so good - and it was so so good - could last forever. Eventually, the ecstacy of her sweet pussy overwhelmed even my most steely resolve. I began to lose control, and sensing it, she urged me on, wordlessly, instinctively recognizing the approaching crest of my passion and pulling me towards it.

I fucked her harder, deeper inside her than seemed possible, a tickle at the very head of my cock signaling me that I was hitting her cervix at the bottom of each of my deepest strokes.

A spasm gripped me with the power of a lightning bolt, and clamping my mouth down over the scream in my chest, I buried my face in her neck and my cock in her cunt as my cock and balls and my entire loins seemed to explode. Cum! Cum! Cum! Cum! Cum! The very essence of my life-force seemed to drain from my body, sucked down and out of me and into the pleasure whirlpool of Elizabeth's pussy.

I was completely drained. I may have passed out for a minute. I'm not sure. We lay in each others arms, me still buried to the hilt inside her, for a long time.

Eventually, when we managed to catch our breath and collect our wits, we came back to the reality of what was now a very hot and steamy dorm room, blankets drenched with sweat and sex, gradually darkening as the late summer sun slowly gave over to the cool cover of night.

I was the first to break the silence. In a small voice, I muttered, "Oh, my God."

She smiled sweetly up at me. Throwing her arms around me and hugging me tightly, she whispered, "I'm so glad we did that!"

It would be only the first of many times that I would screw Elizabeth in the next year and a half. No one else has caused me nearly as much pain and heartache as she did. I still think it was worth it.

A Return of Regular Action? - 2005-03-31
Patience Rewarded - 2005-03-29
Infidelity... It's Everywhere - 2005-03-25
3 A.M. Eternal (KLF is gonna rock you!) - 2005-03-24
A Different Twist - 2005-03-21