Business School lover

I didn't want to go to graduate school right after college. But in 1965 the Vietnam War made being out of school and under 26 dangerous. My father was friends with the head of the local draft board, though, and he found a deferent if I was enrolled in a foreign university.

Dad had been to Munich's Oktoberfest in 1964 with several of his business friends and had a blast. One of his friends could get me a job in an automobile factory there, and his contact knew that the University of Munich ran German classes for foreigners that were accredited to the U. S. armed forces. The deferment was approved.

To save money for the boat fare (the cheapest way to get to Europe in those days), I was living at home, in the house my parents had bought after I graduated from high school. It was almost 20 miles east of the city, in a rural area. Mom and dad's rules were that I came home every night and didn't bring anyone with me. I was celibate for the entire summer.

This was the second year I'd worked as an intern in the Governor's office in Harrisburg. The head of the vestry at church, knowing of my interest in government, had helped me get this job. It was fascinating and I decided to make government my life's work.

As the summer came to a close, mom suggested I invite all the interns out for an afternoon party the Saturday before our last week. We would pick apples from the orchard behind the house and bake pies. It was an inspired idea and nine of them came. We baked 16 pies and had a ball.

One of the interns was Kathy, who had graduated from Vassar and was headed to Harvard Business School. She was stunningly intelligent, painfully thin, had long black hair down to her waist, and stooped to camouflage her 5-foot-11 height. Combining her crust-making skills with my peeling abilities, we worked together and had everyone taking home at least one well-filled pie.

I drove her and two others back to their rooming houses, making sure hers was the last stop. Her interest was finance. She already had a job at the Federal Reserve Board in Washington lined up for the following summer.

I told her about my "wanderjahr" and how I had applied to Harvard, Yale, and North Carolina in urban planning programs, but that I was asking to be deferred until next year. I was sure that I would be back at the Governor's office next summer.

She gave me her B-school address and I promised to send her postcards from wherever I travelled. She asked me to let her know where I got into graduate school. We shook hands and she was out of the car and into her building.

Working in an automobile factory Munich, in 1965-1966 was a toughening experience. Germany was so desperate for workers from abroad, men who would work and then leave, that even my meager assembly skills were welcomed.

I knew no German but the foreman had been a driver for an American general and spoke enough English to help me. My Italian workmates could put together enough English for me to understand them. They were regulars at the nearby whorehouses and invited me along, but I was terrified of disease and wouldn't go.

Where I would go was the Bavarian Alps, to ski. The local ski shops ran escorted tours, mostly day trips but occasional overnights, to an amazing number of lodges. On one overnight trip I hit it off amazingly well with the female organizer and finally got laid, for the first time in a long while. Over the next month she passed me along to two other guides who also wanted to improve their English.

I worked as many hours at the factory as I could, oftentimes doing a double shift or weekend work. I wanted to buy a car and take the six weeks before I had to be back home to travel around Europe. I had a return airplane ticket, courtesy of my parents as a graduation present, but everything else was my responsibility.

I bought a used VW and had enough money to drive wherever I wanted, from Scandinavia to Italy. I sent Kathy a postcard from every country I visited, more than a dozen of them.

When I picked up my car at the dock in Jersey City in mid-May, my first thought was to see Kathy. When I got to Cambridge, I found a phone booth and called her.

"Hi Kathy, it's Peter. From the Governor's office. Are you free for dinner tonight?"

"Who? Peter? Oh Peter. Yes, that would be great." We agreed to meet at a place in Harvard Square.

Aside from having put on 15 solid pounds, grown a full black beard, learned how to drink serious beer, and now spoke passable German, I was the same guy.

Kathy, while still very thin, now displayed her full 5-foot-11 frame to its full advantage. She had a small chest and her black hair was even longer. She was wearing the regulation Cambridge springtime outfit of jeans, peasant blouse, and sneakers.

We ate in a restaurant with a large window looking right onto Harvard Square. This alone made me regret not getting into Harvard, having accepted a completely free ride to Yale instead.

"Peter, I really appreciated your postcards. You've been to places I've wanted to see — Brugge, Berlin, Copenhagen, Venice — and you sent me postcards from there. It was very sweet."

We drove back to her apartment, which was on the ground floor of a house she shared with two couples. In the living room, Kathy sat in an overstuffed chair and I sat at her feet. After about an hour she stood up and moved toward the front door, saying it was getting late.

"Kathy, I'd like to stay with you tonight."

"Peter, how can you ask that? We haven't known each other ten hours, total."

You're right. But I think I know you well enough to want to know you more. So I'm asking."

And then I said "Where can I park my car?" This was the money question in Cambridge, where non-resident overnight parking was impossible.

Kathy folded under the double-barreled assault. "Pull it into the driveway, Margery and Mike won't mind."

When I got out of the car with my duffel bag, Kathy met me and we went back into the house. "You can sleep —" and I cut in — "with you. Which is your room?"

She opened a double door to reveal a huge four-poster bed in what must once have been the formal dining room. The bay window had curtains and venetian blinds and there was an armoire for a closet. Several large throw rugs covered a parquet floor.

I was staggered by the amount of space and the sparseness of the furnishings. "Cambridge is an amazing place. Everybody's a graduate student with no money but they have the most wonderful apartments."

"My grandmother died last year and I got this bed, which is way too big for anyone in my family. The armoire and the rugs are from the Salvation Army. It already had the blinds but I added the curtains."

As we were standing next to each other, it was easy for me to reach her waist and pull her to me. We kissed, she tentatively, me just forcefully enough to show I was serious.

"May I undress you, Kathy?"

She stared at me for maybe five seconds, then walked to the door and closed it. As I undid the buttons on her blouse she stood motionless, until I got to her pants top; then she pulled the blouse out of her jeans and tossed it on the floor. She reached for my polo shirt and yanked it over my head. I lost my balance and fell onto the bed. Kathy hooted.

"I have that effect on you?"

"I cannot tell a lie, yes you do."

I stood up and moved to her, running my hands down her back to her hips and slipped my hands into her pants, then pulled her hips to mine. She hesitated slightly, even as she moved closer.

"Let's take off our shoes," I said. We both sat on the bed and I was starting with my second shoe when her second sneaker and sock hit the floor. When I got the other shoe off I stood up. "I like your bra but it seems unfair — "and off it came.

Her breasts were medium-sized bananas, hanging about three inches down her chest. I'd never seen anything like them and didn't know what to do. Kathy on the other hand seemed to like them a lot and placed her hands under them and rotated them. I got the idea that she wanted me to kiss them, and I did.

Unusually shaped they may have been, but they were amazingly sensitive. Kathy wiggled and sighed when I ran my tongue around the first nipple. I felt it hardening, as was the second one under my thumb and forefinger. We lay down on the bed and kissed, with increasing passion.

When she stuck her tongue in my ear I almost blasted through the ceiling. When I put my tongue in her navel and blew, she jumped and forced my head down into her belly.

I reached for her belt and she stopped me. "Peter, you should know I have never done this before. I'm also not on the pill. Do you have a condom?"

"No , I didn't — maybe we can borrow some from Margery?"

"I'll ask," and she pulled on her shirt and left. She was back shortly, clearly unsuccessful. "She wished me luck but she's on the pill. What'll we do?"

"Is there a pharmacy nearby? We'll go get some."

"You go, I'd be embarrassed. There's one about five blocks from here."

I wasn't sure what my reception would be when I came back. Perhaps my duffle bag would be on the doorstep and the lights would be out. I'd been pretty aggressive. But no, the front door was unlocked and Kathy was glad to see me.

The box went on the table next to the bed and my hands went to Kathy's hips as I pulled her to me. She broke off the kissing and went for my shoes as I yanked my shirt off and we met halfway.

"May I take your pants off, Kathy?"

"How formal, sir. Yes, please do, but courtesy requires me to do the same." We fumbled at belt buckles, zippers, and underwear and soon were nude before each other.

"You're lovely, Kathy. Your bush is terrific. Your hips are wonderful. And I can't wait to do that thing with your navel again."

She pulled the bedcovers down and spread a towel across the center of the bed. "This ought to take care of everything, don't you think?" she said.

We fused on the bed, kissing and sucking and grabbing and tonguing. Kathy showed no hesitation as I moved for her pussy but she pulled back slightly when I put my finger inside. "No one's every done that with me before. Will you promise me you won't rush?"

"Kathy, we have all night together, right?"

"Yes, and all day tomorrow, unless you have to go somewhere."

"Nope, I'm yours. So we can go as slowly as you would like."

"Thank you Peter. I really don't know what I am doing so I want to be able to stop and start again."

I introduced her to my cock. Kathy seemed to have met one or two of his cousins and was soon kissing it and fondling my balls. I told her to just work me, go anywhere, say anything, that when it was time to make love we would know it.

Of course what I really wanted was to jump on her and fuck until we couldn't do it any more, but I sensed that giving her control would be best. I worked at holding off by diverting her from my cock to my chest.

"I've never had the privilege of a man's body like this. Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"I'll tell you when I'm losing control, but right now it just feels wonderful, having a lover who wants to see and feel everything."

After she ran her hands all over me, Kathy paused. I took the opportunity to explore her. She lay on her belly and I lightly ran my fingers and tongue up her spine to her shoulders. They surprised me with their obvious strength but were very tight. I sat on her hips and massaged them deeply. After I got them loose (and was rewarded by soft "ohhh"s and "ahhh"s), I rolled to the side and traced down her spine to her buttocks. Opening them, I lightly touched her anus. She jumped like she'd been shot.

"Why did you do that?"

"Because I hoped you are sensitive there. And you are."

"Don't ever do that again," she said sternly.

Kathy rolled onto her back and I started with her left instep, gently kissing and caressing. Moving up her leg I walked my fingers to her opening. She sighed dreamily and I moved my finger in and out, touching the top and feeling for her clit.

Her deeper breathing encouraged me and I moved to use my tongue on her. As I knelt between her legs she said, "You're not going to do it now are you?"

"I want to, oh how I want to."

"So do I," she said suddenly. "Let's stop this foolishness and do it!"

Her pussy was wet and its lips were shiny. My cock, which had gone soft as I massaged her back, roused itself as I realized she was more ready that I was. I unearthed her clitoris and played with it, getting deep sighs. "That's so nice. Don't stop Peter."

Finally I reached for a condom. "Do you want to do the honors?" I asked her. She tore the package open, then stopped, puzzled as to which side to unroll. I was about to show her when she said "Of course, the nipple goes out side!" She rolled it on and lubricated it with her saliva as I asked her to.

I had her bring her heels under her buttocks and spread her knees, to make the vaginal opening as accessible as possible. She was very tense, though. This wasn't going to be easy for her.

"Let's start over, Kathy. I want a happy lover, not a tense one. Why don't you start on top of me? That way you can set the pace." I lay back and she straddled my hips, took my cock and pushed it around, trying to match the head with her entrance.

"Raise your hips, Kathy. Then sit down on it, slowly. You'll feel it. Take it in slowly." She had to re-lubricate the condom and it took a couple of tries, but she found the angle. She pushed down and up half a dozen times until the head was all the way in.

"Does it hurt?" I asked.

"No, I feel stretched, and you feel so gooooood."

"Then keep going, I'm getting very excited." I put my hands on her hips and moved my hips up and down a little bit.

"Oh yes, that's nice. Can you do that some more?"

"Yes, Kathy, but I'm getting really excited."

"Okay, then let's put it all in." She pushed back onto my cock just as I moved forward. Suddenly I was nearly inside her.

"Oh! That hurt," she said, but her face had a look of relief. "You're there, Peter."

We started to move up and down together and I got all the way inside. I couldn't hold off any more and began thrusting and thrusting. She pushed back hard and took me deep inside her every time.

"Oh Kathy I'm cumming, Kathy, I'm cumming!"

"Oh yes, oh yes, Peter do it, do it!"

After I blasted and got her to stop humping me, she fell forward on my chest. She was panting and sweating and I felt her vaginal muscles flutter on my cock. I asked her to lie perfectly still.

Suddenly she erupted. "Oh Peter, it's happening, it's here!" she said, and I realized that we had built her to an orgasm. She pumped my cock so roughly that I was in agony and I begged her to stop, but she was in her own world. I had to grab her hips and force her to stop. I quickly liked my thumb and worked her clit, which was standing out pretty prominently. I was grateful when she had her orgasm and, when she fell onto me, I was as exhausted as she was.

We rolled onto our sides, facing each other. She kissed me softly. "Peter, I've been waiting for this all my life. I don't know why I've waited, but here you are, you and your amazing cock, your mouth, you hands, everything."

"Kathy, no one has ever done this to me. Your muscles have muscles, I don't know where that orgasm came from. I hope we didn't break the bed."

I showed her how to grab the condom so it wouldn't stay inside her as I got soft, and she rolled it off and tied it. She had never seen an exhausted cock before and was amazed at how small and soft it was. She also had never met a circumcised cock and was quite taken with the result.

"Why isn't every man circumcised?" she asked.

"I don't know, but I do know that I wasn't consulted about it. I like it because it is easy to keep clean and I've heard that not having the foreskin somewhat desensitizes the head, which means I can last longer."

We surveyed the damage our romp had caused. There was a good-sized blood spot on the towel, but it was contained there. The bed was made of sterner stuff than I and was completely intact. Kathy went to the bathroom and I waited for what seemed like a long time as water ran and toilet flushed. She came back with a warm washcloth and cleaned me up.

"I met Margery when I was to the bathroom. She congratulated us on a wonderful performance — she and Mike had heard us through the walls and were so turned on they made love to the sounds of our lovemaking."

"We're stars. Want to go public?"

"Nope. But I want a re-enactment."

She got another towel and spread it out on the bed. "Round two," she said, and I surprised myself that my cock was back in action so quickly. This time she wanted me to take the lead. I got behind her and mounted her doggy-style. I made sure not to touch her anus but she seemed to have forgotten all about that.

I fingered her clit as we rocked together as she began to build to an orgasm. I had never been with a woman whose orgasms erupted so suddenly. After the first orgasm I pulled out and just stroked her clit but she wanted me inside her. This second orgasm was less dramatic but lasted several minutes. I came midway through. When I went soft, the condom stayed inside her and we had to be very careful so that it didn't break as I pulled it out.

We lay facing each other, dreamily touching.

"Do you know what time it is, Peter?"

"No. Does it matter?"

"It's 3 a.m. We should get some sleep, restore our energy."

I woke at 8:30 a.m. to an empty bed. I could hear Kathy chatting with another woman and smelled the coffee. I pulled on my shirt and pants, found the bathroom, then limped into the kitchen.

"Tough night, eh?" said the woman, who turned out to be Margery.

"Sheer hell," I said, looking to Kathy to see if this banter was okay. She smiled, indulgently. She and Margery had been roommates their junior and senior years at Vassar. It was Margery, having married Mike after graduation, who found the house and got her into it with them. Steve and Ann had answered a classified ad.

It was a rainy Saturday morning and I had only one thing on my mind. Kathy had water for strong tea in the kettle and scones on a plate. Steve and Ann came in, ready to run errands. Kathy informed everyone that I was staying tonight but leaving Sunday morning. After a too-long decent interval for breakfast and chat, we headed back to Kathy's bedroom.

"I don't think Margery knows what to make of us," she said. "To her I'm this reserved bookworm who only dated when she made me. Now that I think about it, I'm not sure what to make of us either."

"Well, you could have said good-bye to me when I asked to sleep with you. Why didn't you?"

"Margery is so happy with Mike, and he's so loving. She tossed me out of our room a couple of times so she could be with him, but usually she went to Brown. Since I've been living with them I've seen how nice a relationship can be." Her voice drifted off.

"But there are dozens, hundreds of men in Cambridge. Why —" she put her finger to my lips. "Please don't analyze this, Peter. Sometimes it just happens."

We made love and fell asleep. In the afternoon we made love again, then made dinner for six. I found some German beer that I had liked in Europe at a nearby grocery and it was a hit. I liked them all and began to think that I could live this way.

As we made love that night, Kathy rose so far off my ejaculating cock that the condom broke. She couldn't help sliding back onto my cum-slobbed organ. We separated as fast as possible but we were both scared. We calculated that Kathy was just ebbing away from her fertile period, but we spent the next two weeks worrying. When her period did come I got the local liquor store to deliver a bottle of the best champagne I could afford.

I burned up the road from Harrisburg to D.C. that summer. After the scare Kathy had gotten on the pill and to her surprise her breasts began filling out. The gynecologist at the women's clinic said that sometimes the hormones in the pill do that.