We finished each other off in much too short order, me (of course) climaxing before her, and instantly embarrassed for the gooey ejaculate now on her sheets and hand. Kirsten patiently instructed me to continue pressing the attack with my hand, to the point of placing her own hand over mine as she rhythmically ground her pelvis hard against it, her breath quickening with each thrust until suddenly her back arched. She shuddered and tensed once, twice, then a final third time as the breath she had been holding erupted with a gasping “Oh, oh, AHHHHHH!” articulation.
We cuddled in our shared funk for some time, until drowsiness overtook us, drifting off to sleep after a few kisses, but no conversation. I mean, really, I had no clue at the time just what might be appropriate conversation to have with a woman in whose “sacred font” you’ve just had your hand knuckle deep, so to speak.
In the morning Kirsten was quick to rise and shower as I luxuriated in her sheets. When done, she invited me to avail myself of the shower, which I happily did. Afterwards, we lay back down and hugged and kissed a bit, then dressed. Kirsten fixed a great breakfast, sending me upstairs to fetch Linda and invite her to join us for the meal. I must confess, this felt rather awkward, as it was quite apparent to Linda I had spent the night with her friend.
I recall that we three spent the day together, though what, exactly, we did I am not sure. Kirsten and I returned to her bed again that night, but now I could tell her heart was really not in it, as it had been the prior night. We did fool around, and mutually masturbated again, but she was somewhat reluctant, feigning fatigue. A more chivalrous gentleman would have certainly excused himself and repaired to his own bed, but that was not me at 22 years of age. The very next day, when Kirsten and I were attending a friend’s party, Kirsten took me aside and very gently explained her reluctance to pursue a more lasting relationship, but also reiterating her perception that Linda had no interest in me romantically, and that I would “surely find someone” in my future. Which was true, of course.
Epilogue:
Linda and I continued to share our apartment through most of the summer. She delivered her baby, a girl, in July, but after a few weeks she informed me that she had decided to return to her mom and dad’s house in a town in the California Central Valley. By this time, the relationship of my high school friend had sputtered out of its own accord his now ex-girlfriend having split back to her home town of Atlanta, so there was no objection to my moving back into the rental house with him. In the brief time from April through July I had gotten involved with another older woman who had two young children and had truly lost my virginity, but for a multitude of reasons that relationship was destined to go nowhere. I had gotten a job as a hospital orderly, but only held that for 2-3 months as I was burning my candle at both ends, partying late into the night when I was working days, and during the day if I happened to be working nights.
I don’t recall exactly when, but sometime that summer Kirsten returned to Sweden, and I only saw her once, about a year later, when she returned for a brief visit.
I have revisited this history intermittently through my life. Sometimes, I have castigated myself for not having been a bit more adventurous with Kirsten, perhaps pressing for the prospect of oral sex. But, then, I am just as thankful that it was not Kirsten, nor the next woman who took me to her bed, but the third who introduced me to that realm. And, then, she was the one I would marry, have a family with, and with whom I have spent the last 50+ years as lovers and constant companions.
Leave a Reply