This is a truer story than you might think. It really
happen, and believe it or not I add nothing to it that
didn’t happen.
Several years ago, I held a summer job at an amusement
park. I was a local college student home for the off-
season, and lived near the park. In addition to many
“townies” like myself, the park also employed a great
number of college students from all over the region,
who would come to the park for the summer, stay in
specially provided on-site housing (read “dorms”) and
worked like hell all summer for minimum wage plus a
dollar. This was the case with Jane.
Jane was a second year employee at the park. She
was about 5′ 6″ and built very nicely. An attractive
blonde, she had a very pretty face – slightly rounded,
with a great smile. She was very easy to get along
with, and she had been very helpful in “showing me
the ropes” of the job. Unlike many amusement park
jobs, this one involved some brainpower – she was
bright, and very friendly.
Unlike many of the alleged protagonists of similar
stories, I am no exceptional physical specimen
myself. I am tall – about 6′ 3″ and change, dark
haired, and large fairly athletic build. I was a high
school football tight end, and have been able to keep
fairly well in shape in the years since then. I have
never had the “looks” to attract women by the hordes
(like several of my close friends) but I have always
been able to get along well with my presentable
appearance, my intellect, and my fairly quick sense of
humor.
Anyway, the summer was coming to a close at the
park. A good sense of camaraderie had fallen over
the office where we worked. Among the forty or so
employees in our unit, most were college-age students,
and we had learned the job together. We all had to
work a lot of late nights, so the informal work en-
vironment spurred a lot of friendships We used to spend
a lot of time listening to music and shooting the
breeze until the wee hours in the morning.
One night in early August, I was working with Jane
and a couple others on the graveyard shift. We were
listening to the radio and heard the nightly trivia
question – something about Richard Pryor’s auto-
biographical movie. Jane and I both guessed it at
the same time – “JoJo Dancer, Your Life is Calling.”
(Don’t mess with me at Trivial Pursuit!) Jane
punched the dial on her phone, and sure enough she
was the random caller selected to win the prize of two
tickets to that weekend’s Jimmy Buffett concert. She
half-jokingly told me that we’d go together, since
we’d come up with the answer together. Later that
night, on our way to our cars, she let me know that
she would like me to go with her to the concert.
Well, as a typical guy, I had a couple of days to
contemplate the possibilities. You know, now that I
started thinking about it, Jane wasn’t a bad looking
woman after all. She was two or three years older
than me, and had a strange combination of “play-
fulness” and “matureness” about her. And, as I began
to take a little closer inventory (by the typical
male perspective of grabbing a peek at her backside
when she walked by…) I realized that I had a “live
one” on the hook. Jane was about as good a find as I
could hope to land.
On Saturday night, I drove over to Jane’s apartment
near the park. We chatted there for a while, talked
with her roommate (a rather attractive looking Asian
woman named Mia) and decided that we’d take Jane’s
car to the concert- about an hour away. We got on
our way, leaving some time to show up and get seated
well before the show started.
We arrived with plenty of time, got our space, laid
out a blanket, and cleaved into the “snacks” Jane had
prepared. Well, to my mild surprise, she had whipped
up a batch of margaritas – almost a gallon, complete
with rock salt!! We feasted on margaritas, munchies,
and more margaritas, and relaxed under the warm
summer night.
As the evening progressed and the show started, I
became increasingly entranced with Jane’s hair – it
seemed almost radiant. Jane was a beautiful young
woman, and through some act of fate I was there –
with her – on such a beautiful night.
As Jimmy and the Coral Reefer Band closed out their
second set, Jane and I seemed to hit a “zone.” We
were up and dancing to “Changes in Latitude” and
having a great time of it – she had let her hair down
completely, and was frolicking in her blue-green
summer dress with the last of our margarita supply in
hand. I had taken leave of my usually reserved self,
and was every bit as animated.
At the end of the song, we collapsed onto our blanket,
and before I realized what was happening, Jane was
on top of me – her lips on mine, her hands holding my
head by the sides. She kissed me powerfully, the zeal
coming from some combination of passion unknown
and margaritas since downed. Regardless of the
source, I was more than happy to oblige her hungry
mouth. She took my response twofold, and forced her
mouth around my open lips, stunning me with her
almost selfish persistence. At last, she let me go,
rolled off of me, and took a deep breath.
“Michael,” she said, “I’ve been wanting to do that for
the longest time.”
“Really?” I replied, stunned.
“Really. Thanks for coming tonight.”
“My pleasure,” I assured her. I couldn’t have been
more honest. Men tend to have these thoughts about
women- how they might be harboring sexual
inclinations toward us that same way we have for
them. I had allowed myself to think this about Jane,
even. But I am too cynical (skeptical? pessimistic?)
to have believed that it was true.
We proceeded to rest awhile – it seemed like half an
hour to wait, and me out the band as they played the
beginnings of their obligatory “encore.”
Jane and I were sitting together, now much more
closely, and enjoying the tunes. After a while, I
placed my hand on the back of her neck, and firmly
rolled by fingertips over her shoulder. Predictably,
her muscles melted under the touch, and she collapsed
into my arm and body. I rolled back onto the blanket,
and pulled her over to me. We embraced and kissed
again, this time with my lead. I kissed her on the
lips and neck, all the time holding her by the
shoulders and neck. She purred to me, “I was hoping
that you would do something like this…” providing
me just the right encouragement. I slid one hand
down her back, noticing the delicious curve of her
back arching toward her voluptuous bottom. Jane had
some very dangerous curves – not always easy to tell
when she wore the amusement park uniform (a very unisex
tan pants/blue shirt ensemble), but very apparent to me
now. I maneuvered her over, to where I could better
manipulate her back, placing her on her stomach. She
protested at first but my firm hands along her spine
did all the convincing I would need.
The evening had darkened considerably, and most of
the crowd around us had moved up to an open area
ahead to dance, so we had a modicum of privacy. I
felt that I had been granted this chance- so I might
as well go for it. I slid my hands along her back,
and gradually undid the buttons fastening her sun
dress.
She must have noticed, but I suppose she playfully
went along with the charade. Then, I placed my
hands onto the skin of her back. She sighed loudly – I
could hear it over the fading music – and motioned for
me to get the extra cover blanket that she had packed.
I did so promptly – letting my mind race at the
avenues that this could open up.
Together we pulled the blanket over most of her, and
some of me. It practically obscured us from the
people in the surrounding areas, and that seemed fine
to both of us. I got back to the important matter at
hand – getting my paws onto Jane’s very warm and
inviting body.
As she lay back down, Jane managed to slide out of
the top of her sundress a bit – very casually, but it
wasn’t a mistake. As I got back to her, it was one
easy step to unhook her bra, and let its clasps fall to
the ground. This allowed me one of the true delights
of a well-endowed woman-grasping the sides of her
breasts from behind as I pressed my chest against her
back. She responded with a very warm purr – and an
arching of her back exposing the fullness of her
breasts to my now very curious fingertips. I reached
around her stomach, chest, and breasts, and was
delighted with the response she gave out not in words,
but in body language.
After a few moments of groping (for lack of a better
word) she said one word to me, “unbutton.” All in
all, not a bad word to hear at this point in time, but
a little ambiguous. “I have,” I said back. “Not me,
you.” Ahhhh…..
I quickly danced my digits down the strip of fastenings
on my shirt, exposing my chest to her back.
I pressed my bare chest against Jane’s now-fully
exposed back, enjoying the feeling of flesh on flesh.
She looked at me over her shoulder and said quietly,
“keep unbuttoning.” I gulped, and grasped what she
had in mind. I was certainly ready for sex, and any
reservations that I think I ordinarily would have had
just didn’t seem to come up at that moment. I pulled
myself off of her for a moment, undid my jeans,
pulled them down along with my boxer shorts, and
moved back to my position atop her.
I realized that as I had attended to myself, Jane had
done the same. She had removed her panties, and had
“adjusted” her dress to be almost completely around
her waist. As I pulled the blanket over my back, I
realized that we were about to ascend the level of
intimacy of this more-than-friendly backrub.
I ran my hands from her shoulders down the sides of
her torso, glancing the side of her beautiful breasts,
and down over her hips. She had fantastic womanly
curves, much to my liking, and I complemented her
shape. Jane giggled at me, and guided my left hand
down to her ass. I rested both hands on her ass and I
massaged the firm tissue. She turned her attention
forward, and implied that I was doing well.
By this point, my own manhood had become more than
a passive player in this drama. As I was sitting,
my dick was placed between her thighs, finding a
certain warmth there as I gently grazed it back and
forth along with the stroking motions onto her back
and backside. The feeling was fantastic for me
(again, being a typical guy, just about any direct
contact with my dick is enough to qualify as
“fantastic”) but I wondered if this was arousing to
Jane. As I continued to rub the small of her back
with my left hand, I subtly moved my right hand
between her legs.
I was astounded at how wet she was. I couldn’t
believe how easily my fingers slipped into her wait-
ing space. She felt remarkably warm, and her body
almost immediately convulsed. She made a noise, not
quite a squeal, but a muffled sort of shout. And she
reached back to grab my right arm – but missed. She
quivered for a few seconds, then exhaled loudly and
giggled. “In a minute, I’ll do it again,” she
quipped.
“What?” I said to myself. Do it again? Did she just
come from my touching her? Apparently so, as she
arched her backside up, beckoning me to touch her
again. I obliged, and placed three fingers a ways
inside her, finding her sides and stroking her gently.
She writhed this time, but remained silent. I now had
both hands focused on her pussy, with the exception
of the times that I jolted out to grab the edge of the
cover blanket. Jane was almost up onto all fours now,
and I had moved off of her thighs and onto the ground
just behind her. I struggled to keep us covered- more
out of instinct than out of embarrassment.
Jane flopped down onto to ground and made the same
exhaling sound followed by the same little giggle.
She kicked her legs up, motioning me back to my perch
on her haunches. I obliged, and moved my hands back
up to her shoulders. I gripped her tightly, and she
spread her legs just slightly, making my path to her
even more apparent. I pressed myself up against her
back, and gently slid into her from behind.
The feeling of being surrounded by her – so hot and
so very wet- was overwhelming. She was, no doubt,
very aroused by the evolving passion that had sprung
between us. And the pair of orgasms that she had had
by my hand (literally!) did nothing to dim her
warmth.
I held myself inside her for a moment, and continued
to rub her left shoulder as I balanced my weight on
my right arm. She turned her head to the left, and
began to clench her teeth. I began to pull out slowly,
and she quietly shrieked “no!” pushing herself back
against me. I held inside her again, and she resumed
her almost pained expression.
We held that position for about twenty seconds – I
was pushed entirely inside her – and I held firmly as
I tried to rub her shoulder. After that time, she
lurched forward and made another indescribable
muffled sound. I partially pulled out of her as she
moved, but quickly pushed back inside. The motion
was a very good one-the physical sensation of the
thrust was almost overwhelming.
I repeated the motion a few more times, pressing
myself firmly against her back, feeling myself push
completely up into her hot space. She moved her
hands forward, grasping the grass just beyond the
edge of the blanket, and turning her head to the
left.
She began a quiet sort of moaning, which I took as
encouragement, and continued my plowing motion. I
pushed harder and harder, and her body responded
perfectly – providing me with just the right resis-
tance and feeling perfectly wonderful.
After only another moment, I erupted into her with
every bit of the pressure that had been building up the
entire week. Every time I had considered her smile,
every time I snuck a look at her terrific ass, every
time I speculated about her intentions in inviting me
to the show- it all exploded through my dick and into
her box. I filled her up for several seconds, and I
heard her make the same little “O” noise that I had
grown accustomed to by now. It must have been some-
thing like her sixth! She then followed it up with a
giggle, and I with a long, measured sigh of my own.
I rolled off of her, and gathered her into my arms.
She re-assembled some of her dress, and nestled into
my chest. We pulled the blanket over our mostly bare
bottom halves, and laid together for a few minutes.
As the sexual euphoria wore off, we began to realize
how much of the “main event” we had missed. The
music was completely over. Most of the crowd had
dispersed. And it appeared that our little event had
gone completely unnoticed. We had a laugh about it,
and started to assemble ourselves a bit. Shoot – we
had even missed “Margaritaville” !!!
“Cheers!” came a voice from behind us. We both
looked over, and saw a tall, gangly guy with a gray
beard and a Hawaiian shirt (typical garb for a Jimmy
show) and a six-pack ring with two beers. He walked
towards us, and offered us each a light beer. “You
two put on a better show than Jimmy did, man!” He
laughed, and walked back to his group of friends, all
of whom were doubled over laughing. Jane and I
quickly gave up our “innocent” looks, and held up our
beers in a solute to the group.
Jane and I only had three more weeks to work together.
She was heading back to school to start her Masters
program, I was heading back East to begin my sophomore
year in college. We went out once more, but never had
an experience quite like the one we had on the lawn
with Jimmy Buffett.