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It started out as a typical Saturday, with not much going on except a couple of phone calls that weren't of any consequence. Lounging on my sofa, listening to some music, and reading "Catch-22" seemed like a proper way to allot my time. Steely Dan was wafting through the speakers when there was a soft tapping at my door. I sure as hell hoped it wasn't some damn Jehovah's Witness trying to sell me Jesus. Jesus isn't for sale, as far as I know, and a theological discussion with some naive rube from Arkansas wasn't at the top of my dance card. I turned the music down a bit, and hurriedly pulled on a shirt and opened the door.

"Hiya Danny!! Surprised?!" she exclaimed, a smile lighting up her enchanting face. I stared at her dumbfounded, and a grin eased onto my face. Beth was a very pretty woman who I was "involved with" in college. She was 27 years old, stood about 5 feet 7 inches tall, and weighed approximately 125 lbs. She had long chestnut brown hair that hung to an exquisite ass, firm pert breasts that were wonderfully shaped, about a 34B, long slender legs, and a rather angelic face. She was sort of shy when we first met, but that dissipated fairly quickly as she met more people and matured intellectually. She eventually became something bordering on assertive.

"No, not at all. I've been expecting you, Beth," I told her, the wide grin on my face strongly hinting at the veracity of my claim. "You look very lovely," I expressed, looking into her blue-gray eyes. She was as beautiful as I had remembered her, perhaps even more so. Beth had usually dressed fairly casually when were attending school together, and today was no exception. She had on a pair of old military-surplus fatigues that served to accentuate the alluring shape of her ass, and a simple white t-shirt that made it quite clear that there was no bra between her pert breasts and the thin cotton shirt. Her perky nipples made their presence known from beneath the light shirt, subtly pressing through the material. I realized at that moment how much I had missed her. It had been going on five years since I last had seen her elegant face.

In the not-so-distant past when we were both attending the University of Arizona, we would spend countless hours talking history, philosophy, and a broad range of other topics, and I believe that we both came to appreciate each other's intellects and varied senses of humor. Beth possessed a sense of humor that consisted of large portions of irony and sarcasm, and her rapier wit had humbled many an opponent. Many men seem to be put off by a woman with a strong intellect, especially one greater than their own, but I was initially drawn to Beth because of her cerebral nature. Of course, it didn't hurt at all that she was attractive and alluring. I still distinctly remember when the relationship transcended mere intellectual appreciation.

We were walking home in no hurry from the U of A library in our sophomore year, casually discussing a mid-term exam that was approaching in one of our more difficult philosophy courses, and without warning she took my hand into her soft grasp. I was rather surprised by this spontaneous event, as ours had been a connection with platonic roots up until that point, although I doubted that we would have denied a sexual attraction.

After Beth took my hand, she looked at me with something resembling a mix of love and ardor in her eyes, and brought her pretty face very slowly towards mine. She smiled softly at me as she swept her hair away from her face, then hesitantly kissed me with her soft lips, very tentatively at first, then with increasing passion as she eased her tongue into my mouth, seeking out my own. It was tender. It was sensuous. It was loving.

I pulled her close to my body, feeling her firm breasts pressed against my chest, experiencing her warmth while I kissed her deeply, my tongue dancing rhythmically in her mouth. I remember the clean smell of her hair. I recollect the seductive nature of her subtle perfume. We paused from our unanticipated embrace, looking intently into each other's eyes. We then turned in unison, and slowly continued on our way in silence with slight smiles on our faces, my arm around her shoulders. When we got to her door, I kissed her very tenderly on her soft lips as I eased my arm around her petite waist. I reluctantly turned to walk to my apartment, elated at what had just transpired.

I pondered that initial kiss all of the way back to my small college-ghetto apartment, and into the evening, mulling over where it might lead. Beth's feelings were the same as mine I thought, at least hoped they were. I just didn't want to overstep any unspoken boundaries, as I regarded her as an unparalleled friend first and foremost. She was intelligent, she was stimulating, and she was beautiful in my eyes, and if I could tell anything from the leers that she received whenever we ambled across campus together, she was pretty hot in a lot of other guys' eyes as well.

Over the next several months, it became rather apparent where this romance was evolving. We began to gradually transform into a couple as time progressed. We went to the campus bookstore together when we needed to, we would go to various restaurants and fast food franchises occasionally, and we unfailingly went to our common classes together daily. We hung out on weekends at my apartment, listening to Steely Dan, Elvis Costello, and alternative radio, among other things. We also happened to have in common an avid inclination for the blues. There was a definite shared predilection for each other.

We hugged and kissed considerably more, in private initially, and we gradually became more public with our affections. We profoundly enjoyed each other's company, and both of us sought out one another on an increasingly frequent basis. That eventually led to an evening where Beth found herself alone at her off-campus apartment, as her roommate Monica had left for Cabo San Lucas for spring break. She called to invite me over to her place at 8 o'clock that evening for, "maybe some coffee, a few drinks..." she giggled, then added cryptically, "and whatever." I imagined that I heard her grinning through the phone.

After showering, shaving quickly and throwing on some cologne, I got dressed and walked the reasonably short distance to her apartment. I proceeded with a leisurely pace to her house, debating whether I was just imagining the implications that I thought I heard in her voice on the phone. Beth met me at the door, and after a warm and inviting kiss, welcomed me into her house. She was dressed casually, wearing tight faded Lee jeans, a loose fitting skull-and-roses Grateful Dead t-shirt (she was somewhat of a Deadhead), and was barefooted. I thought I could discern the outline of erect nipples beneath her thin cotton shirt. In my somewhat biased eyes, she was simply beautiful.

"Hiya Danny. It's great to see you. Come on in," she said softly with a shy smile, and eyed me at the door. "How are you?" she asked me with an appealing twinkle in her eye. "Gee... you're looking quite dapper... got a date after you leave here tonight?" she teased playfully, referring rather facetiously to my weathered jeans and a somewhat tattered Elvis Costello "My Aim Is True" t-shirt. "That is, if you leave here," I thought I heard her whisper under her breath, and I was pretty sure I had understood what she had said. I kept whatever I might have had to say to myself.

"Hey Beth. I'm pretty good. Thanks for asking. It's damn good to see you as well, babe," I said, putting my arm around her and kissing her softly on the lips as I entered the house. "And thank you for the comment on my clothes, babe; I didn't want to outdress you," I kidded her with a grin. She answered with a practiced smirk and a toothy grin. "Still listening to Jackson Browne, eh?" I asked her rhetorically as I found myself listening to "Late for the Sky" emanating from her speakers, and looked to see her nod her head and softly smile. Beth had a certain fondness for early seventies music.

We also shared a mutual interest in the sixties. Beth was drawn to acid rock and the alternative lifestyles, i.e., "hippies", while I was more attracted to the political upheavals of that era, particularly the Democratic National Convention in Chicago in 1968, the Weather Underground, and Huey Newton and the Black Panthers. I had wanted to be a revolutionary back in high school, despite the fact that I realized even then that the pension plans for freedom fighters were somewhat less than ideal. I decided to go to college to sort out my political leanings, among other things. I waited two years before I entered college, as I went on a two year "self-discovery" period. In that time, I decided what I wanted to do. Namely, I wanted to be a writer.

The room had the vaguely sensual scent of jasmine enveloping it, and I looked to see a stick of incense burning in an ashtray, sending up plumes of fragrant smoke. There was a pleasantly mellow ambience in the room. I noticed a fine-looking calico cat, and her name was "Peckerwood", based on my conversations with Beth, walking warily around the room, eying me nervously. I'd always wondered why she had named her female cat Peckerwood.

"Would you care for some fresh coffee, babe? I have some pretty nice coffee from Sumatra that I just brewed. Sumatra Mandheling. I just put the beans in the grinder just a moment before you arrived," she told me as I sat on her sofa. Coffee was another subject that we shared in common. We both purchased our favorite varieties and ground our beans fresh, just before brewing. Our early "coffee dates", where we would sit and discuss books, current affairs, with her even indulging me as I talked about baseball, provided a sturdy foundation for our alliance. We simply enjoyed talking to one another. In fact, we seemed to fascinate each other. I noticed that she was looking at me in a manner that was different from what she usually did. I wondered what the significance of her assessment was.

"Yeah, I'd appreciate that. Thank you. I can smell it. It has a nice rich aroma to it. And it looks as if you have great taste in art," I pointed out, alluding to the Dali prints adorning her walls. When she returned with the hot coffee, she sat down rather close to where I was sitting, and I slipped my arm around her shoulder, pulling her even closer to me. She was wearing a small amount of subtle perfume, and the effect was pleasing to me. It seemed to me that there was a bit more of the usual sexual tension between us in the room, and that's quite a statement, because Beth and I seemed to exude sort of a physical affinity. As she extended her hand for her cup of coffee, she turned to me and smiled brightly.

"Well, I don't know about art, but I know what I like," she kidded, looking me in the eye as she said it, and I thought that I saw a flirtatious glance. "Actually, those prints are Monica's, honey. She brought them along with her from Oregon," she informed me, referring to her strange roommate from Eugene. "I'm having a few problems writing this paper for that course 'History of American Foreign Policy, 1945-to-Present'. I think I'm doing okay in the class as far as tests go, but this paper is a significant portion of my grade. I think I have a topic, but I'm having a little trouble with my thesis. Didn't you take that class?" she inquired as I reached for my coffee, taking a sip of the hot caffeinated liquid.

"Yeah, I took it. I did pretty well in the course too, if I say so myself... and I just did," I quipped with a smile. "He's a great professor. He got his doctorate at UC Berkeley. In fact, he's why I took the course. I've taken several of his classes. Are there still a lot of ROTC recruits in that class?" I asked her, and seeing her nod, continued after taking a quick sip of my coffee. "I believe that I wrote mine on the withdrawal of the French after Dien Bien Phu, and the resulting political mayhem that occurred in the years following the attack, leading to our increased involvement. I mean, at that time, in 1954, we only had a few quote/unquote 'policy advisors' over there," I explained to her.

"Yeah, the Domino Theory and all that," she remarked in a manner bordering on sarcasm. She deliberately turned to me and grinned. "But he is a good professor. I really like him. I do have to take a boatload of notes when I'm in his classes though. I was thinking of doing my paper on the issues surrounding the Tet Offensive. It was one of the turning points in the Vietnam War, wouldn't you think?" she asked me as she pulled a small vial from her jeans.

"Well, it was certainly a turning point in the American perception of the war," I said to her while trying to eye the vial with my peripheral vision. "And Johnson decided not to run a mere two months later. Good ol' LBJ. 1968 was a pivotal year in American history as far as I'm concerned, and I think that the '68 Convention had more than a little to do with it," I stated, and as my curiosity got the best of me, I asked, "Umm, what's in the vial?"

"Oh, this?" she asked me with an innocent look on her face, then mischievously grinned at me as she slowly shook the small vial back and forth. "Well, I guess I should tell you that it happens to be some prime Hawaiian marijuana... Kona bud, to be specific. A good friend of mine brought it back from the islands," she informed me with a slight smile on her face, then continued. "I haven't smoked any of it yet. I was planning for this to be sort of a 'special' night, so I was wondering if you were interested in partaking with me," she grinned, putting her hand lightly on my thigh as she did so.

"Really? I really didn't think that you got loaded," I told her, looking at her incredulously while considering the many meanings of 'special', and loving the feel of her hand on my thigh. I had given some thought to the possibility of Beth getting high, especially with her fondness for all things "hippie", but had purged that thought from my head when did so well in her classes. "Wow. I haven't 'partaken', as you say, in a couple of years. Hmmm... what to do?" I looked over at her lovely face, breaking into a grin. "But with you? Sure, let's burn one. I'd be honored to get stoned with you. And you'll be here to take care of me, right?" I asked her with a smile.

"Sure, I'll take care of you, babe," she said with a seductive smile, and after pausing to kiss me with more than a little passion, went on. "Actually, I haven't smoked any reefer since I was a senior in high school, but I thought it would be rather fun to share what could be a rather intimate experience together," she commented with a sly smile, looking at me intently, and I didn't miss her reference to 'a rather intimate experience'. "So, do you think you could manage to roll us a joint, babe? And before you say anything about it being wasteful, I just thought a joint would more properly 'set the mood', as it were," she added while smiling widely, got up to go toward the kitchen, then sat a couple of beers on the table.

"I think I can manage, babe," I smiled and told her as I wondered just what she may have been 'setting the mood' for. "You may not have known this, but I'd been a joint man back when I got high. Let's see that vial and the papers, sweetie," I smiled, and after she gave them to me, I took a drink of my beer and began to prepare the smoke so I could roll a bone, as it consisted of some rather compressed sticky sinsemilla buds.

"You look like you know what you're doing when it comes to rolling joints, Danny. If you don't mind me asking, why'd you stop smoking dope?" she inquired. "Did you get busted or something?" she asked me, then took a small sip of her beer.

"Why, thank you, darlin'. Thank you very much," I told her with a smile, taking a drink of my own beer. I had always been sort of proud of my ability to roll a competent bone. I observed her grinning. "Actually, no, I didn't get popped, although I came awfully close to it a time or two. Ask me about it sometime," I advised her.

"I think this will be pretty neat, you and I getting loaded together," Beth commented, looking me directly in the eyes, leaning in and adding in a stealthy whisper, "and I get somewhat horny after smoking dope, you know." She tittered nervously as she did, before kissing me with a tender passion on the lips.

"What a coincidence! From what I can remember, I get reasonably randy after I get high as well," I told her with a wide grin on my face as I finished rolling the joint. "Maybe we'll be able to work something out between us," I laughed as I handed her the bone. I was becoming very interested in where this little dialogue might be heading.

"Perhaps we shall," she said with a sly grin. "Why, thank you so very much, kind sir!" she commented with a mock British upper-crust accent added to her voice, and I held a match for her to light the joint. "Whoa! This tastes like some prime reefer here," she commented after holding in a long slow draw on the joint, and passing it to me.

"You're right. This does taste like some very good smoke," I told her after taking a healthy toke from the joint and handing it back to her. It had been quite a while since I had smelled the odor of marijuana so close to me, and the sensation brought back many fond memories. "Umm, how are you feeling, babe?" I asked her while running my fingers through her sweet-scented hair, curious as to how the smoke was affecting her.

"You might not believe this, honey, but I'm getting there already," she told me with a silly grin on her face after she had held in her hit and passed it to me. Although on Beth's face, it really didn't look "silly". It somehow looked sexy. In hindsight, I think I might have been trying to imagine what her breasts looked like. Without the shirt in the way. We continued passing the bone back and forth and as it got progressively smaller, I took a few drinks of my beer.

"It's getting pretty small," I pointed out to her, and proceeded to take a lengthy hit of the joint. I was quite pleasantly stoned, and was enjoying myself immensely. I continued to undress her with my eyes.

"Yeah... that's what she said," she quipped with a devilish grin. As I passed the joint back to her, I noticed that her eyes were beginning to redden. "I think this thing is spent, babe," she declared, and set it down in the ash tray. She stared at her Beck's for several long moments, transfixed by the geometric patterns formiing by the condensation on the bottle, then asked "Where is Bremen, honey?"

"It's in northern Germany. Somewhat close to Hamburg, a port city on the North Sea," I informed her casually.

"Sounds pretty reasonable. It's sort of the same way in the United States. New York City and Alabama are pretty much on different planets," she laughed, and after looking into my eyes, kissed me tenderly, subtly teasing my upper lip with her tongue. I felt her begin to sensitively run her fingers up and down my back, and my already erect cock responded. "Take your shoes off... stay a while," Beth instructed with a mysterious grin on her face.

"I hear that, babe. I've spent a couple of days in NYC and I've been to Birmingham, but I can't say that I've sampled the food in either place," I related to her after kissing her lips softly, and set about to removing my Pumas. "No, check that. I had a pastrami on rye at some deli near Washington Square Park one time. But you're right, though, there seemed to be completely different, umm... attitudes, if you will," I concluded, feeling as if I had made somewhat of a cultural statement.

"You might be right. Myself, I don't care much for the South... maybe it's a cultural thing," she declared, and stretched out on the couch and laid her head on my lap. "You don't mind, do you, babe? I'm feeling kinda drowsy," she looked up and asked me, smiling innocently, and she wrapped her dainty hand around my back as she lay her head on my lap. I looked down at the sight of her slender body laying on its side, with her jeans highlighting the alluring curves of her firm ass.

"Umm, I hope you realize that I might 'rise to the occasion', if you catch my drift," I informed her with a wide grin, alluding to the likely consequences of my cock being so close in proximity to her face, not to mention her mouth.

"I hope you realize that it's not as if I was exactly oblivious to your rather painfully obvious erections," she told me with a chuckle. "Sheesh! Did you possibly think that I was under the impression that you had a crescent wrench in your pocket pressing into my belly?! I knew you were glad to see me," she told me, giggling as she did, then continued as I observed her with a wide grin. "And quite frankly, I was flattered. I think the world of you. You've let me proceed in this alliance at my own speed. You've never pressured me once to go any farther than I wanted to go. You've let me define the parameters of this relationship, babe. You've respected me in every way. In fact, despite my limited experience in such matters, I'm pretty sure that I... well, there's other way to say this... I'm pretty sure that I love you, Danny," she said, looking me directly in the eyes, and I felt an instantaneous tightening in my chest. There was an uncomfortable pause in the conversation while we both considered what she had just said. At this point, I think I would be best depicted as "pleasantly dazed". In retrospect, I must have suspected it -- but to hear her actually say it was quite a different story. Quite a different story indeed.

"Yes, I'm quite sure of it. I'm in love with you," she said rather unexpectedly, looking up into my face for a response. I wasn't really certain of what, if any, emotions were showing. "I hope you aren't alarmed, but you're intelligent, you're really funny, you're kind, you're informed, you tend to be gentle, and, last but not least, you're pretty good looking," she finished with a radiant smile as she moved her head upwards to kiss me sensuously on the lips, and by looking into her eyes I could sense that she had meant every word that she said. I was quite exhilarated.

"But it was a crescent wrench, babe... how did you know?" I joked, stalling for time as I wondered what I'd say to her after her stunning revelation. "And I was glad to see you. Very glad. And I think the world of you as well, honey. You're very intelligent, you're loving, you're kind, you're polite, and, you may think I'm going out on a limb here, but you're quite beautiful to me. You really are," I told her, looking to see her blushing slightly as I spoke. "And although I have only one or two past experiences to compare it with, you can rest assured that I love you as well, girlfriend," I told her sincerely, pulling her up to me and we engaged in an ardent kiss, sharing our tongues, our lips, our passion. I lazily stroked her hair as she reposed her body to the couch, laying her head on my lap, "I do love you, Beth," I assured her, and looked down to see her beaming radiantly, "and I'm in love with you as well," I concluded frankly. There. I said it. It seemed as if a tremendous weight was lifted off of my shoulders. On the other hand, I could just eliminate all of the melodrama and just say that it felt good. And it did. It felt good.

"You know, I think that the two of us had sensed that we both loved each other, but that both of us knew of the impending repercussions. On one hand, you are looking forward to law school at the U of A, while on the other hand, I'm planning to get my masters degree at UC Berkeley," she told me, reaching up to gently caress my hair...

"Yeah, I know that Beth, and I've given that some thought as well. Who's to say that you couldn't get a job here?" I posed the question to her, thinking my logic was sound. I hoped. I was pretty ripped myself. "And who's to say I couldn't come out there," I blurted out before I had really known what I was saying.

"That's definitely possible, but do you know what? We have a couple of years or so until we cross that bridge," she pointed out, looking me in the eyes as she went on. "I suggest we stop worrying so much about the future, and simply enjoy each other now. Enjoy the moment, as the maxim goes. Do you have any objections to that?" she said to me while grinning nervously. "Man, I'm higher than a jaybird!" she exclaimed joyfully with a wide grin on her face, then abruptly stood up and grabbed my hand. "C'mon... I have an idea," she instructed me with a soft smile rather mysteriously, and after she took my hand in hers, I followed her wordlessly as she led me down a hallway to the door of what I assumed to be her room. "C'mon in... lover," she said rather huskily, tittering nervously as she opened the door to her room. Her matter-of-fact use of the term 'lover' thrilled me. The room definitely had a counterculture feel to it, with Peter Max and Grateful Dead posters tacked to the walls. There was a Jimi Hendrix poster hanging on the wall as well, and she even had one of those 'Desiderata' posters up. The room held a faint trace of strawberry incense, as if it had been recently burned there, and it had quite a pleasing effect overall. A small flickering candle on her dresser provided the only light in her room, with the end result being that the room had an almost eerie glow to it. I noticed a futon in one corner of the room, and she nudged me toward it. "Sit down, sweetie. Make yourself at home. Do you like my room?" she asked softly as she sat down on the edge of the futon. As I watched, she lit a stick of incense, which I was presuming to be strawberry. I could have been wrong, however.

"What's not to like. It's definitely you, babe," I told her. "And do you mean by 'make yourself at home' that I can take off my shoes and socks and throw them randomly around the room?" I kidded her, and seeing her engagingly smile, joined her by slowly easing myself to the thin mattress beside her. As I reached the soft bedding, she pulled me close and kissed me warmly, wrapping her arms around me gently and easing to the bed, pulling me on top of her.

"Help me take off my top," she whispered breathlessly while looking lovingly into my eyes, and I was quite pleased at the direction this thing appeared to be heading. I reached down and loosely grasped the bottom hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head as she held her arms out, and cast it aside. As I expected, her breasts were superb. They weren't large ponderous breasts, which I consider rather cumbersome, but her breasts seemed so... elegant, for lack of a better term. Conical is the word that comes to mind when I try to attach a descriptive term, but that isn't quite accurate. Perhaps 'economical' would be more apt, as in 'more than a handful is a waste', and they seemed to defy gravity. Her breasts projected out inconspicuously from her chest with small dime-sized areolas, with nice prominent nipples jutting proudly upward, and her creamy mounds of flesh contrasted sharply with her deeply tanned body. I quickly removed my own shirt, leaning into her to kiss her tender well-formed lips as she pulled me tightly to her body. Her perky nipples pressed into my chest, and our breathing quickened considerably. I kissed Beth passionately, sliding my tongue between her slightly parted lips, our tongues intermingling excitedly in our mouths, and maintaining eye contact as we did, expressing the desire within our eyes.

I moved the kiss from her soft lips, lazily meandering across her face to her lithe neck, lightly sucking and kissing the smooth skin I found there, and she began to ease her fingers through my hair as I hesitantly continued to her delicate breasts. I kissed all over her small firm breasts, licking and gently nibbling her erect nipples, with her dainty fingers pulling more urgently at my hair, and her murmuring almost inaudibly. Her legs had subtly separated on the futon, and I found myself between them as I kissed, nibbled, and licked across her flat belly, teasing her navel with a tapered tongue. I looked up into her captivating eyes, and she was looking toward me with a serene smile on her face. As we exchanged loving gazes, I brought my hands to the top of her jeans, and I worked the button free and her zipper down. I positioned my grip to the sides of her pants, and with concurrent nods of our heads, she lifted her hips slightly off of the futon, and I took my time leisurely removing her pants, drinking in the enchanting view. In the dim light, her panty-clad body appeared lovely, and I was quite sure that it would have held up in the full light of day. Her panties hugged tightly to her hips, and despite the reduced light, the wet spot on her underwear was evident. I found myself aware of the sensual aroma arising from her womanly charms, and it was a seductive essence. I started to undo the button on my jeans in the first act of shedding them, but then her hand rested on mine. Beth looked at me and made a simple request. "Don't," she said. "Let me."

She stood up abruptly, and gently pushed me onto my back, looking at me with a sexy smile as she worked to undo the button on my jeans. When the button was free, she slowly pulled down my zipper, and moved her hands to the belt loops on the side of my pants. I looked at her and smiled, lifting my hips, and she inched them down, then removed them from my legs. She immediately stared wide-eyed at my rising swollen shaft, unrestrained by the constraints of boxers or jockeys. It seemed as if she wanted to say something, hesitated a few moments, and then decided against it. Instead, she tentatively moved her hand toward my stiff rod, and she then wrapped her fingers lightly around it. I was watching her dainty hand, and from where I was lying, it seemed as if Beth was acclimating herself to the texture of my hardness. She gazed over into my face, wearing only a soft smile, and with her soft hand initiating a gentle motion up and down the throbbing length of my cock. The sensations that I was experiencing from her hands' introduction to my pulsing shaft were varied. They were sensuous and thrilling, there were elements of passion and desire.