I was raised in a Roman Catholic house and went to Jesuit parochial schools from 1st grade until I graduated from college. The college as a small, private, college out east in my hometown. It was  suitcase college, meaning students typically went home every weekend, leaving the campus to us locals who went there. I was on the student government’s executive board, which brought with the requirement to attend some of the college’s functions include freshman orientations.

In July 1981, I was called upon to attend the first orientation meeting of the summer for next freshman class. The call requesting my appearance came from the assistant dean, so there was no means to back out. I cancelled my plans for the following evening.

The day proceeded like most days, work, bicycle ride, shower, get dressed and go out. The difference from most other days was I was not going out in shorts and a T-shirt, jumping from beach bar to beach bar. I shaved, combed my hair, put on dress pants and a button down shirt. I looked like I was a responsible, upright representative of the college and towed the Catholic faith. Now, if you knew me then, or now, I was far from any of that.

The orientation started at 6:00 p.m. Having attended a dozen or so the prior year, I knew better than to arrive at the commencement of the event because then someone freshman and his/her family would glom on to you as their sole source of information. I arrived a little after 7:00 pm, well after the freshmen, et al., were imprinted with another member of the orientation team. This left me uninhibited to flow through the crowd, answer the occasional question and frequent the cocktail bar.

As I mingled and avoided committing to any groups, I noticed an attractive brown haired woman standing by the dean who was conversing with several families. She looked uncomfortable standing there. She appeared to be five to six years my senior, mid back straight brown hair, about 5’4” and very, very conservatively dressed; mid-length skirt, blouse, minimum make up and about two inch wedge closed toes shoes. She was not talking to anyone but was just hanging in the periphery of the group.

I went to the bar and asked the bartender whether she was drinking and, if so, give me two of them. He went and came back with two Beefeaters on the rocks with a twist. I liked that, she was not stuck in the wine crowd, which was common at these events, but was drinking a hard drink, a drink of some substance. I walked deliberately towards her attempting to make eye contact. I did not. She never looked my way. I walked around the small loose group of families and new freshmen and stepped next to her and said hello.

She barely glanced at me and politely said hello. Turning her head back towards the direction of the group.

“I’m Sam,”  I said.

Not turning towards me she said, “Helen.”

The assistant dean noticed me and reeled me into the group, “Sam, I see you are on time. I want you to meet . . . (it was a ramble of names, towns they were from, majors, etc.).” All I could think of was ‘Christ why the fuck did I come over here?’

I held my tongue and just smiled said hello to each family. I could not shake hands since mine were occupied with a drink in each. After the introduction I stepped back to where Helen was standing and took a long draw off my gin and looked back to Helen.

I extended the drink to Helen and quietly said “Beefeaters with a twist.”

“Oh, thank you, Sam.”

A sly smile trickled across her lips. She accepted the drink, clinked glasses and had a sip.

“I hope that works,” I said.

“Mmm hmm,” as she sipped the drink.

The groups conversation continued without our participation. Realizing this was no going nowhere, I quickly laid out an exit strategy.

Downing my drink, I said generally to the group “It was  a pleasure meeting you all.”

Looking at the new freshmen students, I pointed to my house that was just beyond the parking lot of the gathering and said, “I live in that house with a bunch of other guys. Mind you it is not a fraternity but we do have our fair share of social events. If you have any questions about the college or campus life do not hesitate to stop by.”

I kept it professional since I could not invite them to the Friday cocktail parties, we aptly labeled MEET YOUR PARENTS ON A BINGE in front of the assistant dean and their parents, but I am sure they would hear of it eventually.

As I stepped out of the circle and turned toward the bar, I heard a whisper.

“I saw you when you came in.”

I glanced back at Helen, she smiled. I moved my eyes and head towards the bar indicate for her to come. She stayed. I got another drink, leaned against a high-top table and surveyed the crowd. When my eyes came back to where Helen was, she was not to be seen. I scanned the crowd again and it appeared she had left.

I turned to the bar and ordered another drink to go; suddenly, Helen was just off my shoulder and quietly said, “Get me another one, I’ll be over there,” indicating towards the edge of the event space. I waived to the bartender holding up two fingers. He nodded and laid them before me. I casually walked through the crowd to her.

“You know it is quite easy to order your own, they’re free,” I said.

She sipped and nodded, “Being my first college event and a new teacher, I can’t afford to be seen getting too many drinks or being drunk.”

“I see.”

It was the pithiest retort I could come up with.

“You on the other hand, appear to be well versed in these events. You are on your third gin and had a whiskey before you switched to my poison of choice. Why did you switch?”

“You were watching me,” I smiled at her. “I just asked ordered what the pretty brunette was drinking so if you didn’t like the taste of whiskey it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Ohhhh, You think you have a chance of having me taste what you were drinking? Rather forward of you?” She smiled back. I thought to myself, I like this lady. “So does your offer only pertain to the freshmen? Or can a new teacher come by and get pointers on college life.”

“Absolutely. I’m here to serve, after all we are all in this together,” I said raising my glass.

I looked into her dark brown eyes.

“Hey this is going to wind-down shortly. We can either slide out now or get caught up in saying goodbye, which always encourages idle chit-chat with the families. Your call. Chambers is a bar just around the corner. Meet me there and we can discuss tastings.”

She looked at me and said, “Discuss things? That is a unique way to put it. You go. I’ll say goodbye and meet you there, appearances and all,” she said handing me her empty glass, abruptly turned away.

I did the Irish goodbye and just left and went to the bar. It was my regular haunt; old, casual, familiar. It sat across the street from my house. During the school year, other than us, it had a dozen or so regulars. I knew the owner and staff.

Whenever we had a party, the bar would close early and Ray, the owner, regulars, tenders and servers would come over. Ray lived above the bar. When he had a bit too many, we would help him upstairs to bed, close the joint down, lock up and stumble home. Often the evening tenders would stop over before work for a quick drink and sometimes a bite with us.

The summer brought with it a different tourist crowd. After nine the atmosphere changed. The familiarity was gone, as was most of the regulars. However, since I was the only one left at our house, they all knew to expect me at night and saved a stool for me at the end of the bar. I went in and navigated through the burgeoning crowd and grabbed two stools.

Looking at the tender, “Hi Natalie, A Dewars rocks, no wait Beefeaters rocks.”

“Alone? And so decisive,” Natalie teased.

She was a beautiful, 5’10”, approximately 170 lbs., blonde with crystal blue eyes. We had chemistry between us, which we had not acted upon… yet.

“No just waiting for a friend. Thinking it might be best not to over mix my booze.”

“Yeah I could have guessed.” Natalie handed me the drink and whispered “Her?” pointing.

I turned and over my shoulder said “Yes, make another one. Please.”

Helen came over and sat next to me. We discussed the party, the summer, and things to do in the city for fun. Our conversation flowed as easy as our drinks. After about an hour I suggested showing her my house and grab a drink there. “Are you intending to take advantage of me, Sam?” 

I looked intently in her eyes, “Are you?”

She was off the stool before I was and said, “Well come on then.”

We walked into the silence of the house. I went into the stereo room and turned on music. The house tour eventually lead her to my third floor bedroom. We entered and as soon as the door closed we embraced, kissing deeply, hungerly, without abandon. Pulling our bodies tight against the other, fingers running through the others hair. There was no softness. Just raw passion. The hours of verbal fourplay did its trick for both of us.

We pulled at the other clothes. Touching whatever flesh we could. My hand moving down over the curve of her ass and down her thigh. Gathering her skirt so I could touch the flesh of thigh. My splayed hand running back up over her naked thigh and just touching her panties.

She pushed me back. Staring at me she unbuttoned her blouse and let it sluff off her shoulders. I unbuttoned mine as her hand reached up her back and undid her bra. I undid my belt buckle and as her bra dropped to the floor so did my pants. Then her skirt. In a moment, my boxers fell, followed by her panties.

She stepped back as our eyes drank in each other’s bodies.

I stood, 6’3” tall, black hair, with a tanned body, save where by shorts were worn. I was fully erect, with my slit flowing with precum. Her eyes moved slowly over me and finally fixing on my cock.

Her brown hair flowed over her shoulder, and over her pale skin. The only tanned part was her arms and from her knees down. Helen’s skin seemed to glow in the light. My eyes moved over her. Her pert b-cup breasts with dark button like hard nipples; shapely hips; and untrimmed bush.

Our passion and desire hung in the air. Almost timidly her had reached out to touch my oozing cock. Quickly, her fingers wrapped around its girth and pulled me towards her. Our bodies collided as our lips found the others. Stumbling slightly against the door, I reached down, cupped her ass and lifted her. Helen’s legs wrapped around me and she guided my cock to her soaked pussy. The head of my cock at her opening I eased into her.

She bit my lip, muttering, “Yesssss.”

I pushed deep in her.  

We fucked hard against the door. Her nails clawed my back. My hands squeezed her ass. Sounds of our juices churning mixed with our guttural, animalistic sounds we made. We fucked for pure pleasure. Helen bit my shoulder hard as she screamed into it.

I felt her pussy clench around me as she came. I thrust into her faster. Harder. Her legs shook, and felt warm liquid gushed over my balls down my legs. With each gush she clamped my cock tighter. This was a new sensation for me.

Helen breathing heavily, “Sorry, sorry, sorry. Its not pee. Its what happens when I cum. Sorry,” she whimpered.

She pushed back from me and I popped out of her. She slid her leg down and stood crying against me.

“I never had that happen before.” I said. Hell, I never heard of this occurring. No one ever mentioned squirting.

“I know. No one ever has. I’m a freak,” Helen said as she sobbed.

“No. No, its just something unusual . . . new.”

We moved over to the bed. I did the best to console her. When she realized I was not freaked out or judging her she kissed me. Soft but passionately.

She reached down and touched herself, holding her wet fingers up said, “See its cum, my cum, its what happens with me.”

I smelled her fingers. Looking into her eyes, I sucked them into my mouth. She laid back pulling me on her. We kissed as she parted her legs. Still hard I slid back into her. I wrapped my arms under her legs and pushed her knees to her chest. Our eyes remained fixed on the others as our bodies collided. I felt her grab me from within as my balls tightened. I came hard in her as we exchanged our juices. We fucked for hours, in several positions, and climaxed several time each.

Laying on my chest, still deep inside her, we nodded off. I woke at the sun’s first light, alone in my very wet bed. Helen was gone. I cleaned up and tossed my bedding into the washing machine and went to work.  

I stopped by the woman’s dorm, where Helen was staying during the orientation, and no one was there. I could not specifically ask the dean or anyone else how to get a hold of her. I did not want to compromise her teaching position.

End of August came and classes started. Being a liberal arts college, I was required to take a wide range of courses outside my hard science classes. That semester I took “Introduction to Rhetoric,” which was known to be a cakewalk course that a number of science majors took to satisfy the college requirements.

I walked into the class and sat down among my fellow physics friends. The instructor walked and turned to the class and introduced herself.

“Good morning, I’m Sister Mary Helen.”

Our eyes met. She paused for a moment and went directly into the introductory lesson.

After class ended. I walked up to Sister Mary Helen. “Sister, with your consent, I believe it is best I drop this course.”

She smiled at me. “Yes, Sam, I believe that would be best. Thank you.”