At the end of 1981, my first marriage fell apart. The following year I took a job up in Gisborne to escape all the Shit and bad memories in Christchurch. I went a bit mental, chasing everything in a skirt, and without realizing it, I became quite the topic of conversation around the town. I had never lived in a small town before and was amazed at how people seemed to know what I was up to even before I had finished doing it.
By September, I had learned to become more discreet about my affairs. Friday night was always a big night on the town, and this particular Friday, I knew of nothing happening, and all my mates were away or doing something else. I was seeing only one girl, and she had become more of a friend than a girlfriend, and she was also out of town.
I saw in the local paper that Dave Dobbin (a well-known NZ musician) was playing at one of the pubs. I decided that for want of something better to do, I would go and listen to him.
From memory, it cost about $5.00 to get in, and I was late, so when I got there, the pub was packed, and there were almost no free seats. Looking around, I saw one table with a couple of girls over by the far wall. I grabbed a drink, wandered over, and asked them if they minded me sitting at their table. One of the girls beamed and motioned to me to have a seat; the other, I noticed, was very reserved and seemed to find it difficult to even look at me.
The band had just finished a bracket and had a twenty-minute break, so I dived straight in and started chatting. The girl that motioned me to sit was Lynette, and the other girl was Rachael. They were a lot younger than I would typically chat up. Lynette was nineteen, and Rachael was eighteen. I was thirty-five. I was thinking about how I could remove myself without looking too stupid. However, Lynette didn’t give me a chance; she was very keen to talk, and I quickly sensed she was eager to make more of our meeting.
As pointed out above, I had burnt a few bridges in town. A couple of the ladies I had asked out had turned me down flat, making it plain that as much as they would love to have a night out on the town with me, they were more concerned about the stories that would spread if they were to be seen with me. Of course, there were just as many ladies keen to get me into the sack, but generally, they were different from the ladies I was interested in. So I was very cautious about diving into a situation with Lynette that I might struggle to remove myself from later.
Once we had talked for a while, it became clear that Lynette and Rachael knew nothing of me or my previous liaisons. Therefore, I decided to hang around and see where the night took us. I discovered they were both nurses at Gisborne Hospital, Lynette in the general wards and Rachael in Radiology. They were both from small farming townships up near Rotorua and had stayed in the Nurse’s hostel for the first six months but had moved into a flat together about two months previous.
I bought them drinks; we talked when Dave Dobbin wasn’t flooding the place with noise. I knew and liked some of his music, but most of what he played was new and not really what I was into then.
The two girls were quite different. It was amazing that they had formed an acquaintance and gone flatting together. Rachael was attractive but found it very hard to engage in conversation, and her dress was old-fashioned and looked homemade. A more modern style for her shoulder-length dark brown hair would have also done wonders for her image. She was medium height and slightly overweight, not fat, just puppy fat, great boobs. For all that, she intrigued me, I have always been a sucker for the bird with the broken wing, so I tried my best to get a laugh out of her and gain her confidence.
On the other hand, Lynette was not a raving beauty but very well-presented and had a very tidy figure. She was a couple of inches taller than Rachael with long blond hair and wore a white tee shirt with a tartan shirt un-buttoned over it and a reasonably short denim skirt. Lynette was very easy to talk to and gave me every encouragement. She had a strong sexual presence about her, making it a no-brainer as to which of them I gave the most attention to.
At about 10:30 p.m., Lynette said they needed to go as she was on shift starting at 7:00 a.m. the next morning. She insisted that I follow them around to the flat and have a last drink. By this stage, I was enjoying their company and agreed to follow them home.
When we arrived at their flat, Rachael disappeared into her room. Lynette grabbed my arm and whisked me into her bedroom; I did not put up much of a fight. There was not a lot of foreplay, just some kissing and groping and then clothes coming off fast.
I was correct about one thing; she had a fantastic figure. Obviously, I didn’t get a tape measure out, but I am guessing she was the perfect 34, 23, 35, or, as you say in the States, a perfect ten.
Once we were both naked, I tried to slow things down by kissing around her breasts and nibbling on her nipples, intending to move lower down and tease her for a while. But she was having none of that. She quickly hauled me up, opened her legs wide, grabbed my very erect prick and guided it into herself. No, messing about at all, she was straight into bucking into me as hard as she could, and I was hard-pressed to keep up with her. Within minutes, she was cumming, which got me off as well.
As I rolled off and lay beside her, I commented, “You were in a hurry.”
“I broke up with my boyfriend three weeks ago and haven’t had a fuck since then.”
I lay beside her and asked her about herself while gently running my hands up her legs and onto her stomach. I ensured I avoided her pussy, but skirted around it very closely.
She was from a small town up near Rotorua. Her parents owned a farm there; she had a brother and a sister, both younger than her. I asked about Rachael and why she was so quiet, and I wondered if she didn’t like guys.
“You are very interested in her; should I be jealous?” said Lynette.
“No, I just see it as a bit of a challenge to try and get a smile and some positive reactions from her,” I replied.
“She’s okay but very shy. She admits to wanting a boyfriend when I get her to open up. She’s not a lesbian or anything.”
“Ah! I didn’t think about her being a lesbian; I’d like to watch a couple of them at it,” I said as I slipped my hand between her legs.
“Enough of all this talk, I need some to sleep, but I am not finished with you yet.” She rolled over beside me, and as my hand came free, she grabbed it and guided it back between her legs.
I didn’t need a lot of encouragement; we were kissing while I frigged her with two fingers, and seeing as she had rolled onto my other hand, I wriggled it free and worked my fingers around her clit. It brought some encouraging, happy sounds from her throat.
Again, she took the initiative, pushed me onto my back and climbed onto me. I love this position, to have her perfect breasts swinging around in front of my face and look down and watch myself entering her, every time she lifted up and then slammed down on me again. Life doesn’t get much better.
I reached up and stroked her breasts, then took each nipple between my fingers and thumb and stretched them until they were hard and erect. She leaned forward onto me then and placed a nipple between my lips. I reciprocated by sucking and kneading her nipple while slipping a hand down to rub on her clit. With my other hand, I felt around behind her and, cupping one of her ass checks, pulled her onto me each time I thrust into her.
It didn’t take long, and she shuddered and moaned to another orgasm. With only a couple of extra fast strokes, I came myself. After a while, she rolled off, snuggled beside me, and began to doze off.
“Hey! I have to go; I also have an early start tomorrow.”
Lynette roused herself and asked for my phone number, making me swear I would call. I told her I had something to do the following night so it could be a few days.
Lynette called me Sunday and then again on Monday, but I didn’t get back to see her until the following Thursday. It was another Wham-Bam affair, with her dragging me off to the bedroom as soon as I entered their flat. Afterwards, we watched some TV, and I got to talk a bit more with Rachael. She had lost some of her shyness and was starting to be more at ease around me. I teased them both, Rachael especially and had both the girls laughing at my jokes. At about 10:00 p.m., Lynette dragged me off again, and I remember I brought her off with a good old box-biting session before we fucked. I want to say we made love, but this was not how it was with Lynette; there was no pretence. She just really liked to fuck.
I popped around to their flat at least twice a week for the next two or three weeks. Same old, same old – sex, sex, sex. One should never complain, but you do need more than sex, and I was starting to get the old ‘How do I finish this without upsetting her feeling.’