The characters in the following story were young adults who were over the age of 18 in the late 1960s. Most of the events are based on things that actually happened in an era of changing attitudes about sex and morality. Please be gentle with your comments. The “Sean” of this story is based on very personal recollections.
By late afternoon, Sean’s cool guy anticipation-imitation turned to a sad song, nerdy-dude disappointment. The idea of a face-to-face visit grew from a barrage of creative and silly letters that had become a daily routine for both Sean and Morgan. Morgan had the means and her own car. Sean was stuck in the deep-South, pine-tree boonies with a bicycle and infrequent access to the family station wagon.
The two moms had spoken by phone as required by the unspoken rules of the day. The visit for two recent high school graduates had been given the all-clear. After years of ‘hovering’, Sean had no idea why two conservative Southern moms went along with the idea.
“Don’t worry,” said Sean’s mom. “We’ll keep an eye on Morgan. Sean will be a good host. Be sure to have Morgan bring a swimsuit. We might get in some waterskiing at the lake if there is time.”
“That sounds perfect,” responded Morgan’s mom. “She is looking forward to spreading her wings on a highway drive. I’ll remind her about waterskiing. She loves the water!”
It was the late 60’s and the edges of the propriety envelope were covered in barbed wire. The Graduate hadn’t been in the theaters for more than a year and for three-day-each-week churchgoers, it was scandalous that young people had been allowed to be exposed to such scandal!
From all outward appearances, Sean was a perfect gentleman, a Boy Scout. Morgan was an academic scholar and a Candy Stripper at the hospital. The ‘perfect angel’ images were untarnished for both Sean and Morgan. Moms and dads were proud. Both sets of parents had chaperoned the group parties. Both were confident that any sexual energy for the teens was burned off doing the Peppermint Twist, the Pony, and the Freddie. Any slow dancing that happened was just a chance for the kiddos to cool off.
For Sean, the very mention of slow dance made him squirm. There was that time when Shirley Taylor rubbed too close. She had a reputation for knowing the mysteries of sex and Sean was embarrassed when the music stopped. His moves to get something to cover his crotch may have been the inspiration for the Loco-Motion. Sean had struggled with a pole to put up a tent…not so much for a pole in his pants. There was no ‘cooling-off’ with Shirley.
The two ‘saintly teens’ met for the first time at a party in Sean’s hometown while Morgan was in town for her cousin’s wedding…or the cousin of her best friend’s cousin…or something like that. Anyway, she was sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace while Sean’s friends were slow dancing in an otherwise darkened living room…probably just cooling off, right?
Sean accidentally tripped over Morgan, paying more attention to the welded-together, slow-dancing couples. Really. An innocent stumble. He thought he was stepping over the edge of the hearth, but tripped…awkwardly, embarrassingly. Perhaps the epitome of 1960’s un-cool.
Something ‘clicked’ among the apologies to the cute, red-headed visitor.
“I am so sorry. Are you OK? I didn’t mean to kick you. Please excuse my clumsiness,” groveled Sean. “Who are you anyway? I’m sure we haven’t met, I am Sean.”
“Apology accepted,” said Morgan. “Would you give me a hand getting up, I think you at least owe me a dance. I love this song!”
Sean reached down for Morgan’s extended hand and said, “It would be my pleasure. You have met my clumsy wingtips. If you’ll dance on the tops, I’ll take care of the bottoms.”
Getting to her feet and looking straight into Sean’s eyes, Morgan snickered, “Nice to meet you, Sean. I’m Morgan. I’m not too comfortable with that top and bottom dancing thing…but I’ll hold onto that thought!”
The gauntlet has been thrown…the torch had been lit for the flirtatious Olympics and Sean and Morgan were gold medal contenders!
Maybe more about the letter-writing might help here. The two had been active high school seniors, heavily involved in every imaginable academic and extra-curricular activity. Both were shy when it came to dating or even conversing with the opposite sex. It may have been a conspiracy by their parents. Keep hormonal teens engaged in so many distracting activities that there was less risk of one male and one female ever exploring the biological implications of “Tab A” entering “Slot B”. All to say, there was much to share about sheltered lives in the South where the unspoken taboos were the taboos that were whispered most frequently between girls on the phone late at night and guys in a locker room just about any time.
There was a mutual level of understanding that Sean and Morgan acquired from reading that made up for their lack of actual experience. Curiosity had both of them slipping into the Adults Only section of the library and speed-reading chapters of Human Sexual Respons and Human Sexual Inadequacy. The recently published Masters and Johnson research was based on real-life observation of thousands of coital acts. The book was off-limits to teens once churches found out the juicy parts would tarnish the buckle of the Bible belt.
It was far easier to think through what one wanted to write rather than verbalizing it in front of a member of the opposite sex….and crazy things like writing a complete letter on an inflated balloon, deflating it to fit in an envelope, and putting a testy pinprick in the balloon before sealing things up were somehow normal fun. These sorts of writing challenges became the foreplay of getting to know one another at a deeper level than any parent could anticipate. Many of the taboos that would be whispered between friends of the same sex made it into the carefully crafted juicy parts that found their way onto paper between Sean and Morgan.
Both moms had described the activity as “cute little letter-writing friends.” Sean’s mom had gone as far to say, “they make such sweet pen pals!” All the while, the anticipation of a letter in the mailbox was a semi-orgasmic highlight for the teens during the several weeks that followed.
The visit to Sean’s home was to be the first reunion since the fireplace debacle. From Sean’s view out the picture window of his 1950’s ranch-style home, that empty driveway did not mean good news. By late afternoon, he figured there had been a change of heart and he’d be back to letter writing by sundown. The very idea of a girl driving an hour and a half by herself to see a boy she had only met once was crazy and probably a violation of several hundred unspoken dating taboos of the South. On the other hand, at 18 in the pre-liberated woman’s dark ages, the season was open for seeking out prospective husbands.
The “Look Mom! I made it myself”, Chef-Boy-R-D pizza was coming out of the oven when the wall phone rang. Sean’s mom was closest and answered. It was nearly a full minute before she spoke and by the look on her face, Sean could tell something was wrong. Sean did not hear everything she said, but he did remember how his mom motioned him toward the receiver.
She covered the bottom end of the phone with her hand and whispered, “Morgan had an accident, but she will be OK. She wants to say hello.” I took the phone and listened while Morgan described rolling her Mustang, having her favorite blouse torn, getting scratched up by the seatbelt, and how she rode in the back of a police car to her dad’s office to let him see that she was only nicked-up…and, that she would need a new car right away.
“Maybe I’ll show you my bruises. I look like I have a grade school crossing guard’s shoulder harness imprinted across my boobs…or maybe not”, she laughed, embarrassing herself at what she had said.
Although disappointed that the day did not turn out as expected, Sean graciously expressed concern over Morgan’s injuries and the loss of her car. “The car can be replaced, Morgan. I’m thankful that you were not seriously injured,” said Sean.
By now, Sean’s dad had looked at his watch 3 or 4 times. Long-distance calls were charged by the minute and anything over a 3-minute call meant an expense to someone…even someone else he’d never met.
I’ll talk to mom and dad about maybe coming to see you. Maybe we can all go to the zoo or something,” Sean said, invoking a sweet smile from his mom.
“They can have that crazy zoo…tell me more about the ‘or something’ option,” Morgan said with a giggle.
“Yes, the symphony would be nice,” Sean responded, trying not to laugh.
“They are listening, aren’t they? ” Morgan queried. “I suppose we could make out if we sat in the back, right?”
“That’s right,” Sean responded, playing along. “Great orchestra music is educational.”
“Oh, educational…I’ll keep that in mind…isn’t there sax and violins in the orchestra? She laughed.
“Let’s talk about that later…I look forward to reading that you are all back to normal”, Sean said trying to wrap up the call.
“I hope this happens soon. I may not have evidence of my school crossing guard credentials if this takes too long,” Morgan laughed.
Considering what Sean was hearing from Morgan’s reactions to the impromptu soliloquy delivered for the parents, he deserved a merit badge for not bursting out laughing. “We’ll see you later…Bye,” said Sean.
Sean wasn’t ready to chat with mom and dad about some imaginary road trip, so he excused himself to head to his bedroom. Sean did have a lingering fantasy image of a well-endowed crossing guard with a torn blouse. That would be letter-worthy! That might even be extra hand cream worthy right away.
In the weeks that passed, the letter writing continued. Morgan had a new two-seater sports car equipped with a short leash that meant no highway travels to see any ‘boy’. A new plan was percolating and both Sean and Morgan were up to a cloak and dagger challenge.
For less than a week’s allowance, Sean could hop a train and be in Morgan’s hometown in a few hours…it was sure faster to drive but the family Ford Fairlane wagon was for grocery store runs and carpooling only. The train would make several short stops at horse-and-wagon watering holes along the way, but it was a bit of an adventure and worth the extra travel time for the chance to see Morgan.
The train ride was only the beginning of the mischievous plan. It would take careful feeding of bits and pieces of other details to make all the parents feel more like this was a great idea. What could go wrong with budding ‘pen pal’ novelists developing their friendship…after all, they hadn’t been going out on dates and had barely reached the hand-holding stage of a relationship. Had Sean and Morgan been “going steady”, that would have been a red flag, improper Southern behavior, gossip-worthy alarm! For the record, some letter writing in the preceding weeks blew past that hand-holding phase and had nearly reached the postal envelope, spontaneous combustion stage.
The perfect opportunity presented itself and the plan evolved quickly. Morgan’s parents were headed out on a weekend business trip and Morgan would be staying with her best friend Cathy…pretty much standard procedure for the trips Morgan’s parents took. Cathy was all ‘in’ to have Sean visit and meet this mystery boy-writer-supreme. However, that meant that somehow Sean’s parents had to be given a reasonable explanation for an overnight trip using the train. Cathy was convincing on the phone to advise Sean’s mom that all the parents were in on the surprise ‘party’ and that a responsible driver would meet Sean at the train station. Cathy’s older brother had a bunk bed and wouldn’t object to sharing his space.
“They’ll have a grand time and Morgan will be so surprised. We’re looking forward to meeting that fine son of yours,” said Cathy in her best matron-imitating voice.
We were all set. The plan had the proverbial parental blessing, the key to any ‘responsible’ teenager’s rendezvous. Again, for the record, Sean had to look up the word ‘rendezvous’…it was so much better than what might come from a Southern Baptist pulpit as a damnable violation of Commandments 1 thru 10.
It is difficult to look cool pulling up to a train station in a station wagon with flowers, a house-warming gift, and a small duffle bag. Sean did his best to project the responsible Boy Scout image. For the sake of his dad, he tried not to display too much excitement but inside he was a three-ring circus of emotions.
“Have fun, son.” said dad. We look forward to hearing about Morgan’s family. ‘See you tomorrow evening.” Sean could not help but smile as the round red taillights of the aging wagon pulled away. There was a sense of nervous freedom that swept over him that wasn’t familiar.
The train ride wasn’t something completely new. On this trip, those brief ‘stops’ along the route seemed painfully long. Sean was anxious, excited, and feeling a tinge of guilt that there was subterfuge involved…he couldn’t help that, he’d not missed a Sunday sermon in years. Guilt is a powerful weapon and Sean’s defenses were feeling it.
From previous (mostly supervised) adventures, an early morning boarding on the Dixie Streamliner with close family friends meant there was time to reach the big city, watch a newly released movie, grab a snack and hop the train to get back home in time for supper. This wasn’t all that different except for the moving parts of an overnight stay plus the addition of a ‘girl’ in the mix. Sean could feel the walls of Southern propriety trembling with every clickety-click-click of the train track.
Sean was met at the curb outside the station with a hand motioning to toss his overnight duffle behind the bucket seats in the MG. The gift box and the flowers provided great cover in the event there was anyone around who might know Sean or Morgan. To the rest of the world, it sure looked like a perfectly innocent curbside pick-up of a family member or friend. There was no welcome hug or peck on the cheek or handshake…just a matter-of-fact transportation connection.
Hardly out of view from the station, there were bursts of laughter, silly looks, and songs on the radio to sing to. The trip to the suburbs wasn’t a completely white-knuckle ride, but close. Sean understood quickly how that first attempt to travel in the Mustang ended in a disaster.
A few blocks from the house, per advanced plan, Sean scrunched down in the seat to give the illusion that there was only the driver and a bouquet in the car.
Cathy met Morgan and the ’empty’ car at the entrance to Morgan’s driveway and then followed the car up the drive as Morgan eased the car into the garage. They made it. The plan was working.
Sean tried his best to ignore Cathy’s snide remarks, “So, he does flowers too. Isn’t that priceless! Does he bake?”
“Hi Sean, I am Cathy, and it is nice to see you…all of you,” she snickered as she gave him a once-over look.
Sean did look good although his travel clothes looked more like they had been selected by his mom. Peeking beneath his short-sleeved Madras shirt were well-toned muscles. Atop of his six-foot-plus frame was the beginnings of a mop-top blonde style that would pass for a 60s surfer. And those blue eyes seemed to have a calming effect on Cathy’s commentary.
This was Sean’s first introduction to Cathy, Morgan’s best friend and co-conspirator. She was a tall, dark-haired college freshman who loved to laugh and poke fun at the situation. She was all giggles and snide remarks about having to go to a surprise party by herself. Sean could see how she and Morgan were best friends and that it was important that he get the ‘Cathy Seal of Approval’.
There was a three-way, full blush moment when Cathy mentioned that she was envious that Morgan and Sean would be ‘playing house’ overnight and poor little Cathy would have to wait by the phone to hear the details. By standards of the day, that sort of talk was considered high-level perversion…one did not mention intimate, Graduate-like encounters in mixed company, but Cathy took joy in embarrassing the couple. In her eyes, ‘red’ may have been Sean’s normal facial color.
By now, it was time for the next scene to unfold. Like any responsible teen, Sean needed to call home to let his mom know that he arrived safely. Cathy was on stand-by as a safety net should there be any reason for Sean’s mom to speak with a parent. The long distant call went well.
“Everything is OK. Yes, I did pack my toothbrush. Traffic from the station wasn’t too bad. I feel welcomed here…Cathy’s parents are nice folks; you would like them.” Sean said smiling ear-to-ear. “I don’t know all the plans, someone mentioned a pre-party visit to the zoo, we’ll see.”
At that point, they were almost 2 minutes into the call, so it was best not to run up the phone bill.
Sean wrapped up the call with a polite, “I’ll see you at the station tomorrow night, you have the schedule, right? Great. Bye, mom!” It was an Oscar-worthy performance if not so innocently deceptive.
Cathy picked up on the mention of “zoo” and since it was a pretty afternoon, this sounded like a good idea to squelch any rumormongering. Three teens walking around together at the zoo would look almost academic and innocent. Neither Sean nor Morgan had any idea that Cathy was up to something. The short version of the zoo trip is that it was ‘normal’. Lots of cool animals, the usual stink of animal enclosures, pictures with the Instamatic camera, etc. Then, there was a stop at the monkey exhibit.
These little guys were fun to watch. It was clear that they knew they were entertainers by the way they responded to cheers and applause from onlookers. At some point, an amorous couple of primates decided that it was time to change the ratings from “G” to “X”. There was no mistaking what was going on and to Cathy’s delight, she finally unloaded the one-liner she had waited to deliver all afternoon.
“Are you two taking notes? There may be a quiz!” she exclaimed, followed by laughter and another round of three-way blushing. This did generate a thoughtful reminder to the threesome-colluded-script to make sure ALL the pictures were reviewed before showing them to family members… crazy monkeys!
Parts of that evening were a blur. Cathy and Morgan covered the day’s juicy gossip in a rapid-fire exchange. The zoo adventure entered the silliness several times. They nicknamed the two monkeys, “Frog and Duck” with associated unladylike limericks to match.
“There once was a frog and a duck,
We found at the zoo, just our luck.
In awe we were struck as they performed for a buck
And oh, how the two liked to fuck!”
All this inappropriate narrative went well with an ample supply of snacks and Coke-a-Cola. Meanwhile, Sean took off his shoes and enjoyed shuffling his bare feet through the plush-pile carpet. The house was beautiful with an impressive collection of fine art hanging on the walls.
“These people are rich…truly rich”, Sean murmured to himself.
Cathy finally shut up and left the two partygoers with a parting shot, “Now kids, don’t do anything that I wouldn’t love to do!” We said our goodbyes as she walked out. She had played her role well and was ready to turn the pen-pal pair loose.
The Association entertained the two on the high-fi as Morgan and Sean relished their first chance at a private chat and a lot of making out on the den’s sofa. It was a cozy space with dark wood walls and lit romantically by a single table lamp nearby. Morgan was a great kisser and not shy about lingering lip-locks. There weren’t a lot of words spoken and certainly no protests as the two young people ventured into touching and feeling places, even for that era, which would have been considered inappropriate while fully clothed. There were bare feet and ankles but somehow those were not included in the impropriety scenario
At some point, Morgan stretched out and pulled Sean close to her side. This was a first for Sean. It seemed like the kind of connection two people would make while slow dancing but the two bodies seemed to conform, snuggly close from top to bottom. From the impish grin on Morgan’s face, Sean was sure that she was enjoying this as much as he was. As this dance progressed, lingering kisses provided cover for hands to move beneath clothing. At first, Sean was the lone adventurer, running his hands over undergarments that he had seen in the Sears catalog but had never actually touched.
Sean may have held his breath when Morgan tugged his shirt from beneath his waistband and then reached up underneath his shirt to rub his back. If he wasn’t holding his breath, there is a good chance that he was purring. This was amazing.
In a bold move, Sean swung a leg over Morgan’s thigh. She accommodated by sliding her body beneath Sean…all the while maintaining that lip-to-lip, tongue-to-tongue engagement. Morgan pulled Sean from the lower back and adjusted her position so that both were aligned zipper to zipper.
Sean did not complain aloud, but this was far from a comfortable position for him. Sean’s pants were snug fitting before any of this warmed up and by now he had fleeting thoughts that his seams would rip, the zipper would explode, and the button at his waist would fly off and break something! Morgan squirmed beneath Sean, grinding her hips slowly against him. Sean realized that he was trembling…but it certainly wasn’t from being cold. He could tell that her breathing had changed and that she seemed to be taking short gasps of air. She put both hands on Sean’s chest, disconnected their lips, gave Sean a gentle push, looked him straight in the eyes, and reached over with one hand to turn off the only lamp that had been burning all this time.
It was dark. The tiny stream of light coming through the window from the street placed everything in indistinct silhouettes. Taking a deep breath and exhaling, Morgan whispered, “Now, that’s better.”
Morgan moved Sean’s hands to her sides so he could brace himself while leaning over her torso. Although he couldn’t see exactly what she was doing, Sean felt the fabric from her blouse sliding to her sides as she moved from button to button. Without a word, Morgan reached up to Sean’s tab collared shirt and worked her way down his chest, shifting his shirt to the sides as she unbuttoned each button. With just a hint of a tug, Sean was laying skin-to-skin atop Morgan with only her bra preventing complete skin-to-skin contact.
The kissing that followed was much more intense. The temperature in the den was nearing boiling point. Again, Morgan raised Sean’s chest from hers and let out an audible sigh of breath. It was the first time that Sean got a whiff of steam from the two bodies as they pealed apart. In some sort of magic trick, Morgan disconnected the cups from her front and exposed her breasts right before Sean’s straining eyes. Sean wanted so much to ask, “How did you do that?” He didn’t but touching bare breasts and feeling erect nipples raised Sean’s seismograph to nearly uncontrollable levels. The more that Sean rubbed, the more tense Morgan became beneath him. The way that she was squirming and grinding against Sean, he feared that he was causing pain.
Sean stopped for a second thinking that he was doing something wrong and received a curt, breathless. “What are you doing?
Why did you stop?.
I need more!
Please kiss me!”
Sean took a gamble and made a tongue circling trip or two around each nipple and Morgan’s giggly response let him know he had been forgiven his discretion for putting on the brakes.
On any other night, Sean would have been thrilled to burn this scene into his memory and call it a night. He had learned and felt new things and could call this a successful date, a fantasy fulfilled…but there probably wouldn’t be a merit badge.
The two had been at this for a couple of hours and that third bottle of Coke-a-Cola from earlier in the evening was compounding an already ‘strained’ condition. Lucky for Sean, Morgan in a most commanding proclamation said, “I have to get up. I need to pee. Let me up please?”
This was another first for Sean. Imagine a girl saying out loud, in front of a boy, that she had to “pee” and not “I need to go freshen up,” or something like that. Sean reached to turn on the lamp and Morgan swatted his hand away while closing the front of her blouse, all in one smooth motion. After all, it would be inappropriate to expose oneself to a boy, in the light…it was that propriety envelope thing again, right?
“Let’s go, hurry! Get up. I’ll show you where the upstairs bathroom is.”
Hand-in-hand, Morgan pulled Sean safely through a maze of furniture and up a winding dark stairway.
“You go here. It is my dad’s toilet. I’m headed to my mom’s. See you in a minute…turn the lights off in the bath when you leave.”
Sean found himself in a room nearly three times the size of the bathrooms at home. He took an extra minute to scan the full panorama as he relieved himself. Sean had no idea that a bathroom could be this fancy. “These people are rich,” he said to himself…again. What is the deal with the second toilet bowl and the fountain that squirts upward?
The tour ended when Sean heard the toilet flush in the other room. Sean quickly finished up his business, flushed as a confirming communication to Morgan. He washed his hands and wiped his still overheated body with a cool washcloth. Sean was prepared for round two on the sofa and confidently exited what had to be the Taj Mahal of bathrooms.
He did as he was told and flipped the switch off in the bathroom. Morgan wasn’t there but called Sean to walk down the dimly lit hall to the first door on the right. It was dark and Sean was in unchartered territory. Sean took short, measured steps to avoid collisions or tripping, flashing back to how all this started at a fireplace.
As he turned the corner into the nearly dark room, he saw a gigantic bed under a cavernous ceiling and Morgan sitting on the side of the bed. As Sean inched his way toward her, it was clear that she had changed clothes. As soon as he reached the bed and touched Morgan’s sides, Sean felt the sheer fabric of her nightie and bravely cupped the bare breasts beneath. Morgan reacted favorably to his advances and reached down and touched Sean’s leg to pull him close. Let’s be clear here, touching his leg under these circumstances is the equivalent of pulling the fire alarm on the wall and having sirens awaken the neighborhood.
“I think this is going to work better if you get out of these clothes,” Morgan instructed.
The shirt hit the floor within a second or two. Pants were unbuttoned, unzipped, and in a pile in record-setting time. Sean was right next to Morgan wearing nothing but his underpants and asking himself, “Should I take these off? She is going to see everything!” After all, nudity in front of someone else, especially someone of the opposite sex must be an abomination. Sean’s mind was in a spin..but snapped back.
Morgan was crawling onto the bed and said “Come on up”. Sean was close behind as Morgan pulled back the sheets, slipped beneath, and unceremoniously tossed the top of her nighty to the floor. Sean and Morgan were quickly aligned in the same position where things heated up in the den…but this was much more fun! Wandering hands touched panties and underwear for the first time.
Registering just exactly where things are and how they feel was outrageously arousing. Morgan struggled a bit to arrange her hand inside the waistband of Sean’s underwear, but it was clear that she found what she expected when she snickered and asked, “Did I make this happen?”
In no short order, Sean returned the favor and slipped his hand inside Morgan’s lacy night ware. With just a slight parting of Morgan’s legs, Sean was moving fingers around and encountered a bit of wetness. “Did I do this?”
For a couple of inexperienced, Masters and Johnson real-life ‘explorers’, the couple seemed to be learning quickly.
“OK”, she said. “I’ll take off mine if you’ll take yours off.” For a few seconds, neither moved an inch. Somebody had to make the first move if this was going to happen.
What followed probably looked like the unwinding of a pretzel as bodies wrenched beneath the sheets. It was funny. Sean never thought that taking off underwear while in bed could be such a challenge until that challenge included the person right next to him wiggling around, laughing, and doing the same thing! The tension was broken and there Sean and Morgan were…naked and in bed…still nervous but gaining confidence.
Finally, Sean scooted up next to Morgan.
Wrapped legs, embraced arms, and tender kisses were amazing…a moment never to forget. Both hearts had shifted into overdrive, and one could almost feel the heartbeat percussion on the mattress. This jet was about to take off.
Then, the phone rang.
It is a miracle that both Morgan and Sean didn’t bounce off the ceiling and crash headfirst on the floor. Morgan, doing her best to breathe normally, quickly covered her nakedness with the sheet, picked up the bedside Princess phone, and mumbled a sleepy, “Hello?”.
Note again, that proper Southern decorum means one has to ‘cover-up’ before answering the phone…good grief!
That breathy greeting quickly turned to annoyed laughter after a short pause. Morgan proceeded to tell Cathy to “Go away…we’ll talk in the morning, BYE!”
Sean’s mind had already been around the warning track several times by this point, thinking, “We had been discovered, parents are coming home early, how do we explain this, and we’re going to be grounded forever. We’re both going to hell!”
Once the smoke cleared from the phone call and pulse rates had returned from the far end of the speedometer, Sean and Morgan talked for a few minutes. They laughed more than a few minutes about Cathy, about Frog and Duck, and about being comfortable with each other naked and in the dark.
The joking slid back into silence when they were again locked into a firm embrace and were kissing passionately. Sean broke the ice with a question. He was terrified of an answer but asked anyway, “Are you ready to do this?” The response wasn’t immediate and his ’empty driveway nerdy guy’ worry switch was about to flip.
Morgan reached below his waist and with one hand wrapped around a fully engorged ‘part’, she whispered, “I have someplace where I’d like this to visit…can he come out to play now?”.
“I’ve never done this”, Sean said.
“Neither have I”, snickered Morgan.
“What if we do it wrong and don’t like it?” Sean asked, sarcastically.
“Don’t worry, I took good notes at the zoo”, quipped Morgan.
Sean pulled back the covers and eased his way between Morgan’s legs. As he lowered himself to make contact, Morgan raised her knees to make entry easier. In his nervousness, Sean slipped below Morgan’s warm access and made contact with her bum.
“Uhhh Sean, honey, that’s not the right place…you want me to draw you a picture? I can show you my cheat sheet”, Morgan giggled.
With no further instruction, Sean rubbed his tip up and down along a surprisingly slippery crease, and with the slightest hip adjustment by Morgan, he lightly penetrated her.
“Is that better?” Sean asked.
There was no verbal response but the upward pushing of Morgan’s hips as penetration deepened was all Sean needed to know. In breathless tones, Sean heard her whisper, “This is beautiful”. The undulation up and down brought new tingling sensations up his spine. The two lovers moved slowly at first, not knowing if there would be any discomfort or pain…and not fully grasping what they were doing.
With increased intensity, their motions together grew steadily faster. Sean knew that he could not hold back much longer. Instinctively the pacing of the synchronized thrusts hit high gear and they were both out of breath. Morgan arched her neck, trembled to the point that the bed shook, and let out a huge sigh. Within a second, a surge of electrical feeling exploded from Sean’s body.
No one ever mentioned that bodies smacking against each other could be noisy…but it was. Sean and Morgan savored every second of that high. They had done “it”. Not wanting to separate, Sean pressed firmly against Morgan and started another round of kissing…anywhere he could make contact. Neither recalled just how the two bodies came apart, but there was a collapsing on the bed that felt good.
With inexperience, neither quite knew what was next. Laying side-by-side with a big wet spot on the sheet isn’t something that makes a chapter in a romance novel…but it was real. Sean and Morgan relaxed and chatted.
Morgan said, “You satisfy me sexually”, but it sounded like something from an advice column on what to tell your partner after sex.
Sean asked about the wet spot on the parents’ bed and Morgan chuckled and told Sean, “I’ve been changing sheets on beds in the house for a couple of years and this is the only mattress in the house that has stains… “doing it” here was part of the plan to not have evidence.”
At that point, a completely naked Morgan jumped out of bed and Sean watched, fully focused, on her dimly lit outline as she scooted to the bathroom.
The sounds of water running, the toilet flushing, and maybe the shower steaming filled the next several minutes. With a bit of fumbling around, Sean found his underwear on the floor and headed back to the dad’s bath. For sure, he had some cleaning-up of his own to do. Sean was still hot, a bit sweaty, and sticky in intimate places.
Sean could not resist peeking into the mom’s bathroom. It was quite steamy and intruding into a private space like this would be tantamount to the Titanic pushing through a dense fog and knowing there was trouble ahead. All rational thought abandoned Sean at that point. The door was unlocked, and he walked right straight into the room and grabbed the handle on the shower door.
Sean had never heard a shriek like the one Morgan let out when he touched this helpless nude creature, eyes closed, and with her redhead full of foaming shampoo. It was comical the way she tried to cover herself with her arms and bent over to cover her ‘privates’. Being the proper young gentleman that he was, Sean turned away…a little. Morgan, on the other hand, was bent in such a position that as the shower rinsed her hair and eyes, she had a clear view of Sean’s crotch.
Realizing the futility of the situation, Morgan raised up, slapped Sean across the arm, and laughed, “You aren’t supposed to be here! And that thing (pointing between Sean’s legs) looks funny.”
With the ice broken, Sean and Morgan embraced in the shower. The Southern ‘secrets’ were in full view. And now, contact with Morgan’s curly red crotch hair had brought things back to life in a hurry.
Sean assured Morgan that after a couple of minutes with a washcloth and an abundance of soap that she had cleaned his intimates and surrounding flesh well.
“I’d appreciate you leaving some flesh in that tender area for future use,” Sean joked.
The funny ‘thing’ was awake now and trying its best to behave. All rinsed off and enjoying the spray, Morgan surprised Sean. He had wiped the water from his eyes and there was Morgan, bent completely over and shaking her butt in his direction.
Sean had no idea that pieces and parts could align in this situation but moving toward her and making contact brought out another little squeal from the naked girl in front of him. Morgan was pushing against Sean but nothing was quite connecting. The sensation that fingers were reaching up between his legs was followed instantly by a certain guide to “the right place’. At this point, there was no shyness on Morgan’s part.
There was no slow-motion warm-up. This was a full-on, high-speed bump and grind accompanied by a butt-to-thigh clapping sound that would make a rock drummer proud. Sean did not last long in this situation…the intimate contact on a freshly scrubbed organ made it sensitive to the touch and it was only a minute or so before he groaned loudly and pulled Morgan against him with one last hungry thrust.
“That was fun”, exclaimed Morgan. “Good clean fun in the shower! Woohoo!!”. Sean was again breathless but also stunned. Having sex was new and having sex twice in such a short period was indescribable.
Morgan was first out of the shower, brushing against Sean and giving his protruding part a soft tug. “Good boy! and don’t stare”, she said as she stepped into the bathroom.
If there was any shyness left in this rendezvous, it completely disappeared when Morgan squatted down on the second toilet and turned on the ‘fountain’. “I think this will get all of your cream out of my crack,” she said with a smirk.
“So, that’s why the fountain in the bathroom? asked Sean.
“It’s called a bidet, you bumkin, have you never seen one?
“Not only have I never seen one, I certainly have never seen anyone use one…do men use it too? I saw one in your dad’s bath,” Sean replied.
“Sure, it is a way to clean the bum after using the toilet! You should try it! explained Morgan.
With the sun coming up, two tired but satisfied teens dressed, inspected the house for evidence of a crime, and headed out the door for breakfast across town. They were quiet while getting pastry cream on their faces. Sean, was lapping into his éclair with his tongue and licking his lips with each bite. Morgan left her pasty intact and sucked the cream through the hole for the filling. Morgan hinted that there were other ways to get ‘cream’ around the mouth and Sean laughed, “That may require another visit with Frog and Duck”.
“I’ll send you something to read,” Morgan snickered. “It is in one of the last chapters I read. I bet you have just the tongue for it.”
Sean blushed and replied, “Maybe you could do homework of your own…and practice with a banana.”
Morgan blushed even more and commanded, “It is off to the train station. Are you ready for an anti-climactic exit? Through his laughter, Sean responded “Sure, but when I get home, I’m getting flameproof stationery and a water-cooled pen”.
And off the couple went…contemplating a new chapter of fun with Frog and Duck.
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