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Okay – I admit it. I have my fantasies. In each, I’m tall, athletic, and devilishly handsome. Of course, I’m none of that in real life. I’m normal height, average weight, I have never been good at any sport and I was always the wingman for my more socially adept friends. So, my dating amounted to me getting nothing but leftovers, after the alpha dogs ate.

That describes my first serious attempt at dumping the curse of virginity. I was at a sorority mixer when I saw this brown-haired mutt. She was standing on the other side of the room and looking as ill at ease as I felt. Neither of us were coupled up. So, I gravitated toward her; misery loves company.

She was ordinary height, brown shoulder-length hair, brown eyes, olive complexion. There was nothing distinguishing about her face or figure. She was just “brown.” I said, “Hi “and leaned my back against the wall next to her. She said, “Hi.” And we just stood there for an uncomfortable period, staring at the people dancing.

My brain was yelling, “Say something you idiot!!! But I couldn’t think of anything to say.” In the meantime, she was looking creeped-out. Inspiration hit and I said, “My name’s Peter, like the Saint, not the bunny rabbit.” My lame attempt at witty. The fact that she didn’t flee the scene screaming, indicated how desperate she was. She looked at me and said, “Suzie.” She DID have pretty eyes. We stood there for another uncomfortable length of time. I finally said, “Would you like to dance.”

I’m spastic on the dance floor, but it was all I had. She said, “I’m sorry but I don’t dance.” A woman who didn’t dance? Unheard of!! What was she doing here? We stood for another painful period.

She said, “Would you like to get some fresh air? I can’t hear myself think.” Wow!! That was a breakthrough.

I said, “Sure.” Okay, it wasn’t suave. We walked out onto the porch. It was summer and hot outside. But it was unbearable inside the party. So, the night air felt cool and refreshing. She had on the classic Bermuda shorts and spaghetti strap top that was popular with girls back then. I was wearing an old pair of cut off blue jeans and a ratty t-shirt. My standard uniform.

I was desperately trying to think of something to say. So, I tried the usual gambit, “What are you studying?”

She said, “Nothing. I’m a townie. Bill Wirt brought me. But he took off with his buddies and left me by myself.”

Wirt was one of the overentitled douchebags who made us peasants miserable. I thought, “Wirt brought her???!! She must have some hidden talent?” I blurted, “Well I would never leave you at a party. You are way too pretty.” I didn’t exactly mean that but she was starting to grow on me.

What I got was puppy-dog eyes. She said, “Do you really think so?”

I lied, “Of course I do. I wouldn’t leave a hot chick like you standing around.”

She said rather defensively, “How do you know I’m hot? Who have you been talking to?!!” Okay, that was a little unexpected.

I dithered a bit and said, “Nobody – you’re just hot looking – that’s all.” I was starting to synch with her.

She must have felt the same vibe because she melted a bit and said, “I work at the Loft. You should drop in some time.”

I felt like I might be edging up on my first real score. She was not a movie star. But neither was I. And she radiated the total lack of sophistication that was my stock in trade. But she also gave off a distinct hint of sexuality.

It was the classic Catch-22. I hadn’t had grown-up sex yet. But I was very eager to try. I just needed to hook-up with a girl who was experienced enough to know how to do it. But not so experienced that a twenty-year-old virgin wouldn’t interest her. This girl looked like she might meet both criteria. I was mulling that over when she began to lean toward me with those bedroom eyes and we kissed.

It was electric. She moaned, her mouth opened and we swapped tongues for several seconds. This was getting hot. We broke for a second just staring at each other. Both of us panting like bloodhounds on a hot Georgia porch. I was certain that I was about to score.

That was when Bill Wirt reappeared.

He said with scorn in his voice, “Suzie – what the heck are you doing out here?” and pulled her to him by the waist. He didn’t even notice her breathlessness. Which was probably fortunate for both of us since he was a starting linebacker on the football team. He was huge!!!

He added looking angrily down at her, “I spend a little time with my friends and you just wander off with some weenie. If you want to be with ME you had better watch your behavior, bitch.”

Now, the person I wished I was would have wrestled the guy to his knees, just for being such an asshole. Instead I stood there looking blank. I am not aggressive and I have no instincts that way. I thought that Suzie looked humiliated. But she immediately turned and said to Wirt, “What was I supposed to do when you left me standing there for an hour?”

He said, “I had some business to attend to. And I expect you to wait for me while I’m doing it.” I had a pretty good idea what that business WAS. Because a bit earlier I had seen him go past me toward the parking lot with a thoroughly wasted Becky Almendinger.

Maybe he planned to rush her to the hospital to have her checked for alcohol poisoning. Or maybe he spent an hour fucking her in somebody’s back seat. Who knew? At any rate, Suzie turned to Frodo Douchbaggins and said, “I was just talking to Peter while you were gone. It was no big deal.” It was heartening to discover that I was, “No big deal.”

He looked at me and sneered, “Stay away from my woman, or you and I will have something to talk about.” He was a half foot taller. I didn’t think it was world politics. So, I just stared.

Then he turned and jammed his hand down the back of Suzie’s shorts, and more-or-less hoisted her back into the party by her left butt-cheek. She went along uncomplainingly. My alter-ego would have had the asshat in a hammerlock pleading for mercy at that point. But I just stood there looking disapproving.

A disapproving stare was the best I could come up with.

I was pretty sure what her hidden talent was, as I watched them disappear. That suspicion was confirmed while I was upstairs taking a piss. Suzi’s discarded top was lying on the hall floor and there were moans, shrieks and wild cries of “FUCK ME!!!” emanating from the bedroom. The object lesson was well-learned and I didn’t see Suzie again.

Meanwhile, I had finally taken care of my little virginity problem. It was almost the same situation. I was at one of those outdoor bashes in a local park. It was an event that the Greeks sometimes threw in the late summer. I was dateless as usual.

The party itself was being conducted from the back of a keg loaded F150. Which was parked in a lot next to a field. The whole area was surrounded by very thick woods. I was wandering-around drunkenly amongst those trees. That was mainly because I was fed up watching the men and women of Phi Alpha and Lambda Tau getting hammered.

Becoming totally shitfaced was such a weekly ritual with our student body that it made me wonder how the university had gotten its sterling academic reputation. I thought that it might be interesting to see what was back in the woods. Boredom loneliness and the foamy substance that they were handing out off the back of the pickup contributed to my curiosity.

I was stumbling aimlessly around in the woods when I encountered a female form. It looked like a sorority chick had crawled off into the underbrush to die. She was sprawled on her back underneath one of the trees, lying on a soft bed of pine needles and leafy debris. The vision was eerily reminiscent of the dead soldier scene from the Red Badge of Courage.

She was wearing a classic sun dress. And in her passing-out she had managed to ruck the hem of the dress so far up that it was like she had nothing on from the waist down, except a thong. I walked over and looked closer to see if she was dead. It was curiosity plain and simple. You don’t see a sight like that every day. I had no intention of doing anything more depraved than scoping out her bare legs and panty clad mound. And; yes, I know I’m a pervert. I’m a guy.

At that point, the body moaned drunkenly. And I squatted down to check her condition – not exactly Galahad but at least I was concerned. As I did, she opened her eyes, gazed blearily at me and muttered, “Who’re you???” I was about to answer when she said in a decisive voice, “Oh well!! You’ll do!!!” And she grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me down on top of her. I was flabbergasted. Like I said, I am not a man of action.

She put her feet behind my knees and started violently humping her very hot pussy against my rapidly growing package which was only clad in a bathing suit. She obviously could feel it because she let out a loud groan of sheer lust and in one motion yanked my cock out of the side of my speedos, pulled her thong aside and in probably five seconds I was buried to the hilt in a very hot and slippery slice of heaven.

The feeling of sliding up into her was exquisite to say the least. That was the reason why I almost instantly came. She, in the meantime, had thrown both arms around my shoulders and her legs around my waist pinning me to her. That all happened as I was still frenziedly cumming. She bucked violently for another couple of seconds. Both of us uttering loud groans. Then she moaned and started to quiver and shake underneath me while her legs drummed frantically on the ground.

By the time I had reassured myself that this was a normal, if slightly over-the-top, reaction for a female, she was back to her state of out cold. I honestly tried to wake her up but she was totally passed out now, with her legs spread wide. I didn’t need to ask what the white sticky stuff oozing out of her was. I didn’t know who she was and I was frankly a little dazed from my first sexual experience. Of course, I was also pretty-much wasted.

My noble alter-ego would have stayed and gotten her some help. But she looked peaceful lying there. So instead I stood up, closing her legs, and pulled her dress down. I’m a gentleman after all. Then I stumbled back to the party for a refill.

I never saw her again. I can’t even remember what she looked like. And for all I know there is a little Peter Ostrovski running around out there somewhere. But that first pathetic instance of questionable sexual ethics, and I am not exactly sure who was at fault, opened the floodgates. Before I graduated, I must have banged half the ugly girls on campus.

I was not interested in building my social-cred. I was just interested in duplicating the experience. And frankly all cats are grey in the dark. So, homely pussy and gorgeous pussy felt the same; except the homely ones might have been a little less “well used”. In fact, I have always thought that the less popular girls gave a much more inspired and grateful performance. And you can really perfect your technique with that much practice. At least I got no complaints.

I graduated without distinction from the Ross School of Business in Ann Arbor. And I took my MBA down the road and put it to work at Ford. I then proceeded to spend five long years in the godforsaken wasteland of cubicle-land. It was a prairie dog town of perhaps 500 souls, all running in our own little six by eight foot wheels. All of us were packed into one massive room. But at least I had worked my way up to an “office” hers. It was eight by ten, instead. It was a sign of favor and advancement in our anonymous universe.

I also drove a cobalt blue Mustang GT. The “A” Plan was one of the perks of working at Ford. That car made me feel a little less faceless and more like hot shit. Hence, one fine Friday I was sitting around after work with some of my fellow galley slaves. We were on the outdoor patio at Andiamos. I lived in a condo down Garrison Street. It was an easy jaunt back to my place. So, I could drink as much as I wanted without worrying about a long drive home.

There were some new people in the group. That always happens because Ford is a big place and people come and go. As I was seating myself I glanced across the table at a girl I hadn’t seen before. She had a thick mane of red hair. And she had the milky complexion and upturned nose of the definitive Irish Colleen, freckles and all.

Her laughing emerald cat’s eyes were regarding me with both humor and intelligence. She was not big or little, somewhere in the five-six range. And beside the fact that she looked so distinctively Irish, there was nothing else exceptional about her. Nevertheless, I was riveted by those bright green eyes.

My buddy Mary, who worked with me on our unit’s tiger-team, was sitting next to her. She said, “Peter, meet Janet McCarthy. She is over in customer management and she and I have been working together on the new interface.”

Mary then turned and went back to chatting with Jason Jones who was sitting next to her, duty done. I didn’t get the impression that this meeting was a consequence of pure chance. So, I said something debonair, like “Hi” and lapsed back into my usual shy silence, just looking at her. Several seconds passed and finally she said sarcastically, “Like what you see?”

I said, “I’m sorry. You are so beautiful that you make me tongue tied.” That statement evoked a smile that was pure Connemara on a bright and sunny spring day. She said flirtatiously, “So I’ll take that as a yes.”

I said with conviction in my voice, “That is most definitely a yes.”

The room was a buzz of conversation so I said, “I want to talk but I can’t hear with all of this noise. Have you eaten? I know a place that makes the world’s best hamburgers if you want me to show you.”

That got another delightful smile. She really had a wide sensual mouth. And she said, “I would love to get something to eat with you. I hate situations like this. I only came because Mary told me that she had a hot guy that she wanted me to meet. Since I don’t see him, I guess I’ll go with you.” Ouch!!!

The sardonic tilt to her mouth told me that she was kidding. I hoped.

I took her to Millers Bar, which was near my place and, indeed, serves the world’s best hamburgers. We talked for hours and drank several pitchers. To say the least we were compatible. And I knew in my heart right then-and-there that I was going to marry her. I have no idea why I was so sure. But I was certain of it. It was something in the way we connected. It just felt right.

Neither of us was in any shape to drive so we left the Mustang parked in Miller’s parking lot and lurched the four blocks back to my place. I would like to say we shared a night of passion but we both more-or-less passed out. I woke up in the dawn’s-early-light, lying in a puddle of drool.

I had slept on the couch. Janet had managed to stagger into my bedroom and was lying face first on the bed fully clothed. I covered her with a duvet while scoping out her body. She was slim with fragile looking shoulders tiny waist, narrow hips, beautiful ass and long gorgeous slim muscular legs. The legs were revealed up to her panties. That was because her short, work-skirt had migrated up to the swell of her big round butt cheeks.

Her thick copper hair ended right between her shoulder blades. And even after a night of wretched excess it looked as lovely as it was the minute I laid eyes on her. I figured that kind of perfect hair must be something that God gave the Irish to make up for the fact that they can’t take their pale hide out into the sun.

I was frying up some bacon when she made her appearance. She was wearing one of my shirts and apparently nothing else. One copper strand was draped over her eye and she looked the worse for wear.

She said two words, “Coffee – STAT!!”

I handed her a big steaming mug and she slumped in a kitchen chair. She said, “You look as bad as I feel.”

I said, “I think we were run over by a beer truck last night. Thank God it’s Saturday.”

I added, “After tying one on like that, it’s a good idea to get some nourishing grease in your stomach. If you drink some orange juice and eat this you will feel better.” And I placed a plate of bacon and eggs in front of her.

She fell on it with the gusto of a starving grizzly bear. When she finished, she peered suspiciously out past her hair and said, “Did we fuck last night? It doesn’t feel like it. But I don’t remember much after we left Millers.”

I said, “I don’t think so. You were on the bed and I was on the couch and I would think I would remember something as memorable as my first time making love to you.”

She looked amused and said, “What makes you think that there will BE a first time.”

I said, “Because I am going to get that little impediment out of the way right now.” And I walked over took her hand and gently brought her to her feet. She looked at me, tilted her head impishly, threw the shirt up-and-over her head, stepped back and posed.

What was revealed was a slim little body with broad b-cup breasts and cute little pink nipples. Her waist was tiny and her hips were fruitful. She had one thigh crossed over the front of the other the way that women do. So, her pussy was neatly covered. But from what I COULD see there was no hair down there.

She said, using the mocking tone of voice that she had the night before, “You like?”

At that, I swept her up in my arms, with lust in my eyes. I toted her into the bedroom and tossed her on the bed. She was laughing merrily as she said, “Apparently you like!!”

I was out of my robe and undies and positioned next to her in a couple of seconds. She was starting to pant as I kissed her. We dueled tongues for a second as I reached down to roll a suddenly very significant nipple between two fingers of my left hand. It looked like a little red rosebud now.

When I did that she moaned and arched her back, urgently forcing the breast against my hand. She hissed, “You have to fuck me NOW!!! I can’t wait any longer.”

I moved between her widely spread legs. She was humping the air in her eagerness as I lined myself up and slid into her. It was the hottest and wettest joining I have ever experienced. She shrieked with sheer sensation. And wrapped her arms around my neck to drag my lips down to one nipple. They were huge when she was aroused. And obviously very sensitive.

I took it in my mouth. It was red hot. She shrieked again and her heels started beating on the back of my legs as she began to quiver like a tuning fork. This was perhaps 15 seconds into the mission. It was uncanny. I looked into her face but her bright green eyes had rolled up somewhere in the top of her head. All I could see was white.

We were fucking into each other so hard that I was afraid I was going to hurt her. But she was just moaning over-and-over, “Harder!!! Fuck me harder!!! MORE!!! MORE!!!” The liquid sound of slapping flesh and her abandoned cries of passion were counterpointed by all the effort noises that I was making.

We fucked wildly for perhaps fifteen minutes and then I couldn’t take it any longer. I wasn’t worried about her satisfaction since she had already, loudly cum about four times. I stopped fighting it. Orgasms have sometimes been referred to as a “sneeze in the loins” If that is the case then what happened to me was more like double pneumonia. I could swear the sun blinked off and on several times as I came.

She in the meantime had spread her legs wider than I thought possible, toes pointed like a ballet dancer. And she was just yelling, “YES!!! YESS!!! Give it ALL to me!!!” and then we collapsed together - me trying not to crush her and she spread eagled apparently deceased. She finally popped one eye open and said, “That was the most amazing fuck I have ever had. When can we do THAT again?”

I said, “Whenever you want my dear because I am never letting you go.” And that was the way it was. She moved in that week. And we were married in a civil ceremony at the end of the following month. Neither of us had much in the way of family, or even friends. So, it was just a hurried legal event, with witnesses that we scared up from the courthouse.

The honeymoon in Cabo was for two weeks; and she tried to kill me. Surprisingly, when we got back the sex never slacked off. We just began our newly married life together like we had been leading it for all the prior months.

Three years passed. By that point we had moved up the ladder again; me to chief architect and Janet to head of the customer management service for one of the product lines. Our combined income was sufficient to buy a very nice house in Dearborn and we were living the life of the typical upper middle-class DINK. Then we had Irish twins. First there was Sarah; and then ten months later there was Dean.

Janet took a full maternity leave both times and I tried to help where I could. Life returned to normal except for one major change. Janet and I had now had our requisite two-and-half kids. She counted me as at least half a kid, and she said that she didn’t want any more.

We were still fucking like mad so I volunteered to get the snip since she had made all the sacrifices prior to that. It sounds like a simple operation, and it is. But it hurts nonetheless and the sight of your marriage tackle black, blue and horribly swollen is a little disconcerting.

But I got over it and the days blended into years. And the kids grew to teens. It was eighteen years after the marriage. I was 42. And I was still run-of-the-mill me. I looked like I did in college, just better dressed. I still couldn’t do anything athletic. And my attempts at being the life of the party were embarrassing; even to me.

Janet, on the other hand, had blossomed into a stunningly beautiful 41-year-old woman. The cute little Collen face had evolved into full-fledged Celtic beauty. Her translucent skin might keep her out of the sun, but it also ensured that there wasn’t a line on her face. And her high cheek bones and perfect Irish features glowed with an inner womanly confidence.

Now when Janet walked into the room every man stared and every one of them wanted her. Still, except for her striking good looks, we were very similar people. She had no interest in sports, she didn’t work out. That slim body of hers had gained a few extra pounds from the kids. But it was all in the right places. And unlike any other woman I ever knew she hated dancing, or even socializing.

Her entire life revolved around her family. She was a wonderful mother and an even better best friend. She was always adventurous. So, we explored together. First trundling the babies along. Then as they grew up; we were accompanied by a pair of proto-adults. And the sex was like a post-grad course in the Kama-Sutra. The bond that created was a special gift to our marriage.

In public, we were two effective professionals raising a pair of wonderful children. But the sexual intimacy that passed between us underwrote our faith in our life together. We all know that we are fundamentally alone. But Janet and I drew so much comfort from our shared intimacy that it merged our individual psyches into a single spirit.

In essence, we felt like we were moving through life as one entity because we were so attuned to each other. There are long-time marriages where one spouse dies and the other immediately follows. I can understand that. I know that this will sound melodramatic. But I really could not imagine life without Janet. She was my necessary other half.

By the time we reached our eighteenth anniversary I had finally made my way into a corner office. That was not as much fun as it might sound, since a lot of responsibility came with having walls and a door.

Part of what I did was manage the equipment and services for our division and that was why I was sitting at my desk when my old nemesis William Wirt strode in to shake my hand. I hadn’t seen him since that fateful night on the porch in Ann Arbor. But I recognized him right away. Of course, he didn’t know who I was. But then again, he had NEVER known who I was

He had gained a lot of weight, about ten pounds of which was now residing in the fat under his several chins. He had also come down with a serious case of male pattern baldness. As a result, he had shaved his head.

As he sat down across from me the vista of all that pink skin sticking out above his necktie made him look like a 290-pound penis. Of course, he had not lost any of his sense of entitlement. And the company that he now owned might have caused him to be even more conceited than he was, back in the day. He RADIATED arrogance, aggression and supreme self-confidence.

I didn’t show the slightest reaction as he reached across the table to energetically pump my hand. It had been 20 years since we had any contact and I was nobody back then. But right that second, I had him by the balls and he knew it. His company provided services to Ford. The contract wasn’t major by our standards. But it was the entire kettle of fish for him, and he needed our business.

We had been using Wirt’s company’s services for the past twenty years. His dad had made Wirt President and CEO when he retired three years ago and since the change-over we had been getting constant complaints about shoddy workmanship. I was meeting with Wirt to sort it out.

He led with the “hail-fellow-well-met” gambit that had always been his standard approach. I knew that he considered me nothing more than a pencil-necked corporate geek. But, since the shoe was temporarily on the other foot he was going to treat me like his best pal.

We haggled our way through the list of problems until 5:30 rolled around. He made a point of checking his gold Rolex Yachtmaster and said, “Hey buddy, I’m getting hungry. How about we continue to talk over dinner at The Henry.”

I said, “My wife is waiting for me at home. We always eat dinner together.”

I could see that he thought I was thoroughly pussy-whipped. But he kept up the jovial facade, “Well let’s just bring the little lady along with us. Call her up. It’ll be my treat.”

The last thing I wanted to do was subject Janet to the guy. She hates blowhards and Wirt was one of the worst in captivity. But I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. I had the momentum in our negotiations and I didn’t want to lose it.

Nevertheless, I also didn’t want to leave Janet sitting at home. So, I called her and asked her if she wanted to meet us at TRIAs. She said, “Wow – to whom do I owe the honor? You’d never take me to a place that expensive.”

I said, “A vendor is paying for it and we are going to be talking business. But I didn’t want to leave you out if you want to go.”

She said, “I’d love to go, especially if we aren’t paying. I assume you want me to dress up.”

I said, “It’s just a vendor but let’s see if you can blow his mind.” I was going to give the asshole a little payback for the porch incident.

She said, “I’ll be in full mind-blowing mode. Love you.” and hung up.

She made her appearance an hour later. She was firing for effect and every salvo hit. We had a table on the other side of the restaurant. It was as far away as possible from the entrance. So, she had to walk entirely across the room in her 4 inch stilettos. That marvelous ass was twitching suggestively as she proceeded toward us.

She was a beautiful self-assured woman in a figure hugging little black dress. The dress worked ideally with her best feature, that thick mane of copper hair. And the scoop front put her big round tits superlatively on display. The little gold chain with the single perfect diamond dangling in the canyon between those two impressive hills was the finishing touch.

Her huge emerald cat eyes were hypnotic. And her wide sensual mouth was flawlessly made up. It highlighted a knowing smile. Her freckles and turned up nose made her look like the world’s hottest and most sophisticated girl-next-door.

She came over to us never taking her eyes off me. And I couldn’t stop looking into those two deep pools of love. I thought to myself, “How could I have ever been so lucky?”

I looked over at Wirt to see his reaction. He appeared to have swallowed his tongue. His jaw was almost resting on the table like a cartoon wolf, game, set and match to Janet Ostrovski.

We both rose when she got to the table. She gracefully extended her hand to Wirt and said, “I’m Janet, Peter’s wife.” Wirt looked at her with pure lust. Then he put the mask back on and became “good old Bill.”

He laughed heartily and said, “Well – he certainly knows how to pick ‘em. Were you an actress, or a model before you got married?”

Janet colored and said, “No, I’m Director of Customer Relations for this Region’s dealerships. I have been in CRM since before I met Peter.”

He laughed again and said, “Well I’D like to be your customer!!!”

It might have been harmless banter but there was another meaning to that. We both chose to ignore him and we all sat down. Throughout the meal Wirt dominated the conversation. He was paying for it. So, I just let him talk. He was clearly vamping on Janet and I didn’t blame him. She was especially hot looking tonight.