Sarahs first love
- 3 years ago
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Sarah’s Stallion Ch. 04 free porn video
I want to thank LadyFalcon for her assistance by making constructive comments and editing this story.
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Now that we’d had sex, I found myself thinking about Sarah during every waking moment. When she wasn’t with me, I felt like part of me was missing. God, I was in love with this woman! I’d savored being near Sarah before, but now I wanted to be with her all the time. It seemed I was a moth and she was attracting me to her flame. It was consuming me. She caused my hormones to boil–not only was I in love, I lusted after her. I recalled our first double date with Bill and Kathy and now understood why they acted as they did.
When I was working in the orchard with Dad, or mowing the lawn, or running errands for Mom, or just sitting around doing nothing, I replayed our sex scenes in my mind, over and over and over. If Mom or Dad talked to me, I’d be in a daydream.
One evening Mom and I were watching the TV news after Dad had gone to bed. She was sitting on the sofa and I was in Dad’s rocker.
I must not have responded to something she asked before, because this time she asked in a louder voice, ‘Steve, are you OK?’
‘Oh, uh…yeah, Mom.’
‘It’s Sarah, isn’t it?’
‘What?’
‘You were thinking about Sarah?’
‘Yeah, I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately.’
‘Ever since you graduated–I can’t put my finger on it, but you’ve changed.’
‘Changed? How?’
‘I don’t know. Before, you were outgoing and talkative. Lately you’ve been as quiet as a clam. Now when I speak to you, I might as well be talking to the wall, for all the attention I get. Sarah is the reason?’
‘Sorry, Mom. I didn’t think it showed that much.’
‘I spoke with Virginia on the phone today, and she said Sarah has been acting like a lovesick calf.’
Then Mom dropped the bombshell, ‘Virginia told me she’d recently given you and Sarah some condoms.’
That statement struck me like a bolt of lightning. I didn’t expect Virginia would tell Mom about the condoms. I was too stunned to say anything intelligent.
She paused for a few seconds, and said, ‘You and Sarah have been using them, haven’t you?’
Mothers really do have a sixth sense. The look on my face must have told her everything she wanted to know–she was always able to read me like a book.
I couldn’t deny it, so somewhat defensively I said, ‘Mom, why did you ask that?’
She dropped her eyes to her lap and straightened the hem of her dress. In a low voice, she said, ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t pry into your personal affairs, Steve, but I’m your mother and I care about what happens to you.’
She fidgeted with her hem again. ‘I’m concerned. I don’t want you to–you know–for you and Sarah to have a baby. You both are too young to be tied down, and you need to finish college.’
Before I could respond, she continued, ‘Steve, believe it or not, I was a young woman once, and I know what it’s like being in love. Your father and I went steady when we were teens. I would indulge in fantasies about us nearly all the time. Your grandmother would get upset with me. She’d say, ‘Anne, that boy has you in such a tizzy.’ I wanted so much to leave home and be with him.’
She went on, ‘He’d stolen my heart. We both graduated from high school in 1942. Your father received his draft notice only a few weeks later, because the Army was calling up all the young men during World War II.’
She clasped her hands together in her lap and looked up at the ceiling. A small smile crossed her face. ‘Your dear father proposed to me before he left for the Army. I think I can tell you this, since you’re old enough to understand. He was going off to war and we didn’t know if we’d ever see each other again. So we did it a time or two before we were married. We were lucky enough not to get pregnant.’
Then she added, ‘On the other hand, Sarah’s parents weren’t so fortunate. Virginia got pregnant almost the same time as me, except your father and I had already been married about two years. Virginia gave birth to Sarah only a few months after they were married. It was the subject of gossip around here for weeks.’
‘Mom, I don’t think…’
She held up her hand and interrupted, ‘Steve, don’t tell me. I shouldn’t have asked in the first place. It’s none of my business.’
Mom got up from the sofa and came around the back of my chair. She bent over and kissed the top of my head. ‘I know you love Sarah as much as I loved your father when I was your age. I’m not going to mention our conversation with him. Steve, please be careful. Good night.’ She turned and went upstairs to bed.
Now I was confused. She was always telling me to be careful. Did she just give me her approval to have sex with Sarah or not? Her conversation was too ambiguous for me to decide.
The only thing I was completely sure about was that Sarah’s parents and mine had sex before they were married. From that, I gathered that it would be hypocritical for them to chasten Sarah and me when they had done the same thing.
The next time I saw Sarah, I told her about my conversation with Mom. She said Virginia had had a conversation with her, too. Sarah related that Virginia gave her a mother-daughter talk, then gave her ten dollars and told her it was ‘condom money.’ As I reflect on it, it was probably cheap insurance.
The summer was passing quickly for Sarah and me. We were both getting ready to leave for college. Sarah’s admission paperwork had been submitted through the scholarship committee, but when she didn’t receive her scholarship, all the admissions actions had been stopped. Sarah had to make a special trip to the university to get her admission paperwork back on track.
The University of Illinois sent us a mountain of paperwork to complete. They wanted copies of health records, insurance forms, final high school records, paperwork for dormitory arrangements and fees, tuition payments, and a myriad of other things I can’t recall. Beyond that, there were the clothing purchases and other ‘necessities’ we’d need at college.
I continued helping Dad in the apple orchard. It was still too early to pick apples or begin cutting Christmas trees, but we identified a number of select trees Dad planned to sell to a vendor who sold Christmas trees in town.
Even though Sarah and I were busy, we still took opportunities to steal away and have sex. We tried having sex every week or so, but it was difficult to find a private location. Sometimes it just didn’t work out–we found the back of the car was too cramped and our rock was uncomfortable. Nevertheless, on the Fourth of July, we had our own very personal fireworks. Another time we did it in the woods after a church picnic. Every time we had sex, it seemed we wanted more.
Taking care of Pegasus was a problem for Sarah, because she couldn’t tend him after she left for college. She knew if Virginia looked after him, her hip would give her trouble, and Sarah didn’t want that. Sarah considered asking her grandfather if he could board Pegasus, because he only lived about a 45-minute drive from the university. That way, she might be able to visit Pegasus more often than if she left him on the farm at home, and Virginia’s hip wouldn’t be affected.
When she discussed boarding Pegasus, Arthur readily agreed to keep Pegasus. There were several empty stalls on Arthur’s farm and an extra horse added to twenty-plus horses wasn’t that much extra effort. Arthur had a small tractor with a scoop that his stable hands used to clean the stalls. Pegasus would hardly be noticed in the daily workload.
Arthur said that since he had a breeding farm, he collected stud fees when his stallions bred other owners’ mares. Pegasus had an excellent blood line, so he suggested Pegasus could be added to the stallion breeding list, and Pegasus’ stud fees would help pay for his boarding. Any stud fees in excess of his boarding, Sarah could keep as spe
nding money. A better arrangement couldn’t have been made, from Sarah’s standpoint.
At the beginning of the semester, our parents delivered us to the University of Illinois. It took us a couple weeks to get settled in, to learn our way around the campus, and find new friends. At least Sarah and I had each other to lean on those first few weeks.
All freshmen who didn’t commute to class had to live in the dormitories. Sarah and I both lived too far away to commute, so our living arrangements were limited to living in the dorms. In 1963 the dormitories were separated by gender, men’s and women’s dorms.
I lived in Garner Hall on Gregory Street. It was a nice dormitory, having been built sometime during the past ten years. For some reason, though, dorm living wasn’t for me. Maybe it was because I’d been an only child. I didn’t like sharing the restrooms, standing in long cafeteria lines to get my meals, nor to be surrounded by so many people in such a small space. Sharing a room with a male roommate was–well–somehow different.
My roommate, John, and I didn’t see eye to eye on many things–clothes, music, literature, sports, or politics. He was from Libertyville, Illinois, a suburban town north of Chicago. He had wanted to attend Northwestern University, but tuition was cheaper at the U of I, as nearly everyone called the University of Illinois, so his parents sent him there. John thought Champaign was too pedestrian for his tastes. He claimed there was nothing to do in the ‘hick towns’ of Champaign and Urbana. To me, they were just fine–much larger than the tiny little villages and towns near where I’d grown up.
Sarah lived in Allen Hall, a women’s dormitory at the opposite end of Gregory Street from Garner Hall. It had also been built within the last ten years. Unlike me, Sarah liked her roommate, Ellen. She said Ellen was from Elmhurst, a suburb west of Chicago.
Sarah and I found the Main Library was a good place for us to meet and study, since it was almost midway between our dormitories. Sarah and I tried to meet at the library at least once a day. The happiest hours of my day were those I spent with Sarah. I always looked forward to spending time with Sarah, even if it was sharing our time studying. We’d find a secluded table and sit together reviewing what had happened since the last time we were together. Then we’d work on our individual assignments.
We didn’t have any classes in common, but we both had to take freshman math, and English. Even though we had different assignments, we reviewed each other’s papers and gave each other advice on how to improve them. I had always been slightly better at math and science than Sarah, but she was better at almost everything else, so we helped each other prepare for classes and exams.
Freshmen weren’t permitted to have cars on campus. One day I was talking about the automobile restriction with an upperclassman in ROTC military drill (all healthy males had to take ROTC in those days). He said he had parked in his aunt’s garage when he was a freshman. His aunt lived in Urbana and didn’t drive or have a car. She had an unattached garage and lived about a mile from the campus. Since he now shared an off-campus apartment with some friends, he didn’t park his car there anymore. It seemed like a perfect opportunity for me.
He gave me her phone number and I contacted her. Her name was Lydia. She was an elderly lady, perhaps 75 years old. I told her I’d rake leaves and shovel snow for her, if she would let me park in her garage. She agreed. I purchased a used bicycle so I’d have transportation around the campus, and to get to my car. About a month after the semester started, I got a ride home and drove my blue 1955 Ford Fairlane back to Urbana.
Since Sarah didn’t have a car, I was happy to provide her transportation, because we could be alone together. Sarah wanted to visit Pegasus at least once a week, and I drove her to and from Arthur’s farm. When we went back home, she rode with me. Not only was it nice to have a traveling companion to and from college, but most enjoyable to spend the entire trip with the person I loved and cared about.
The first few times we visited Arthur’s farm, Sarah rode Pegasus in the paddock next to the stables and I’d sit and watch. One day, Arthur suggested I could ride one of his docile mares, named Cupcake. Over a few weeks, Sarah taught me more about horseback riding, and we frequently rode together.
Arthur seemed to be happy when we came to visit. He lived alone, and I’m sure he was lonely on his farm. Eventually, he joined us on two of our weekend horseback rides. There were a number Amish farmers who lived within ten miles of Arthur’s farm, and sometimes we’d pass them riding in their horse-drawn buggies. They were friendly and would always wave and shout a greeting to us.
Several occasions on fall weekends, we arrived at Arthur’s farm around 9 AM and spent the entire day horseback riding along many of the rural back roads. The corn had ripened and the frost turned many of the trees to red and gold. The warm days and cool nights were ideal for horseback riding.
A couple times Sarah and I took a picnic lunch with us. On one of our previous rides, we’d found an out-of-the-way grove of tall oak trees off the road near an abandoned farmstead. The grass was nearly three feet tall under the trees. It was the perfect place for a picnic. It was also the perfect place to make love to Sarah. There was hardly any traffic on the road, and we were well-hidden in the long grass. Only the horses and the crickets knew we were there.
Sarah and I attended all of the U of I home football games. It was a good year for football, Dick Butkus was being hailed as a probable all-American football player, and it appeared the U of I football team might make it all the way to the Rose Bowl. Sarah and I cheered the ‘Fighting Illini’ until we were sometimes hoarse. Things became hectic on campus Thursday and Friday nights before football games with nearly everyone attending impromptu pep rallies. Then on Saturday nights there were the celebrations and wild after-game parties. Sarah and I skipped the parties, preferring instead to spend time alone with each other.
Arthur gave his stable hands most of the weekend off. One would feed the horses in the morning, and the other would care for them in the evening. During the day, there was no one in the stables, so Sarah and I found we could get some time together for sex in the loft on fall weekends until it turned too cold in October.
By November, Sarah and I had become accustomed to college life and had fallen into a familiar daily routine–classes during the day and studying together in the evenings. The weather was getting colder and we were looking forward to our first break of the semester, Thanksgiving.
I recall very well that on Thursday evening, the 21st, Sarah and I studied at the library, as usual. We checked our schedules and discovered we both had some free time the next afternoon, so we arranged to meet outside the English Building at 1:15 PM after my English class.
The next day, after my class ended, I was in a hurry to meet Sarah. I picked up my book bag and exited the classroom with my classmates. There was unusual activity in the hallway. Some people were in small groups talking in hushed voices. Two coeds hurried past me going the opposite direction, and they were crying. As I walked past a larger group, I heard someone say, ‘It must be a Russian plot.’
I pushed through the milling crowd at the front door of the building and looked for Sarah. I didn’t see her right away, but as I looked around, I saw clumps of people huddled together on the Main Quadrangle. Finally Sarah spotted me and came running. She had a pained expression.
‘Did you hear the news?’
‘What news?’
‘Someone shot President Kennedy!’
‘No–you must be kidding.’ I couldn’t believe what she had just said.
‘Yes. While I was waiting for you, some stud
ents came past here and said it was on the radio.’
We saw a student on the grass outside the building holding a transistor radio to his ear. A number of other students were quickly gathering around him, so I grabbed her hand and said, ‘Come on, Sarah. Let’s go over there next to the fellow with the radio.’
By the time we covered the hundred or so feet, a dozen more students had gathered. Someone in the crowd shouted, ‘Shut up so we can hear.’ The fellow with the radio turned up the volume as loud as he could and held it over his head. We could barely hear a newsman giving a commentary about an assassination attempt. No one spoke, most male students had pallid faces, I saw several more coeds weeping.
About half an hour later, we heard news that President Kennedy had died. There was a common gasp of disbelief. After that news, everyone became silent. We were starting to get cool–late November in Illinois can be very chilly. I whispered to Sarah, ‘Why don’t we find someplace warmer where we can listen to the news?’
Sarah tapped me on the shoulder and pointed. ‘Let’s go to the Union, I think they have a TV there,’ she whispered.
I nodded affirmative, and we worked ourselves out of the crowd. We headed toward the Illini Union. Inside, we found a TV surrounded by unbelieving students, fixated on Walter Cronkite, who was providing the latest news of the assassination. We stayed in the Union until after Lyndon Johnson was sworn in as president, an hour or so later.
The only news over the weekend was related to President Kennedy’s assassination. The sad news cast a pall over the nation, and the campus was no exception. The football game on Saturday, November 23rd at Michigan State was moved to Thanksgiving.
On November 27th, the day before Thanksgiving, Sarah rode back home with me for Thanksgiving break. Thanksgiving weekend was rather somber, since President Kennedy’s funeral had been on the 25th and Thanksgiving was on the 28th. The prime suspect, Lee Harvey Oswald, was murdered and news reports speculated he was linked to some kind of conspiracy. No matter the state of national or international affairs, I had my own plans to take care of.
Thanksgiving evening, I visited Sarah and asked what she’d like as a Christmas gift. She thought about it a bit, then said she’d always wanted a thin gold chain necklace with her birthstone, peridot. My reason for asking was that I’d planned a little bit of subterfuge to throw her off my real plan. When she asked what I wanted, I told her I could use a pair of warm leather gloves.
I spent the Friday after Thanksgiving in town, doing some Christmas shopping. I bought a gift for Mom and Dad. Then I spent a couple hours selecting a small diamond engagement ring that I’d planned to give Sarah at Christmas, instead of the birthstone necklace she’d asked for.
After I arrived home, I swore Dad and Mom to secrecy that I’d purchased an engagement ring for Sarah. They wanted details and I revealed I intended to propose to her on Christmas Eve. Mom thought it was such romantic idea that she wanted to let Virginia in on the secret, too. I made them promise they had to swear Virginia to secrecy. To set things up, Mom invited both Virginia and Sarah to our house for a Christmas Eve dinner.
In early December, the U of I football team was selected as the Big Ten representative to the Rose Bowl. Our opponent would be the Washington Huskies. Illinois was 7-1-1 in football up to that point, with our Big Ten record being 5-1-1. School spirit was obvious, with ‘Go Orange and Blue’ and ‘Go Illini’ signs and banners hung all over campus.
Even though everyone was looking forward to the Rose Bowl, there was almost a month of anticipation for me as I counted down the days and hours until Christmas Eve. Time seemed to stand still as the days at the university dragged by and I found myself daydreaming about Sarah through many of my classes.
Sarah rode back home with me from the U of I for Christmas break. From our discussions, I was sure she had no knowledge of my plan. We had a couple weeks off during Christmas break–a welcome relief from classes and studying. Finally, Christmas Eve came.
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