Anyone who has read one of my stories knows that I always insert factual details and events to add an element of reality to a tale. The story is more interesting to write and hopefully more interesting to read.

While it may be challenging at times to distinguish the factual elements from the fictional ones, this story, like all my others is absolute fiction.

Constructive comments are always welcomed. Enjoy

~~~

"I'm not telling you again. I won't say a word about anything involving Mick until I hear from her in her own voice that it's okay to speak with you."

The woman who purported to be Mick's publicist had an impatient pout on her face, but the man that she had brought with her to my house, claiming that he was a private investigator hired by her, tried a more intimidating tactic.

"The list of people who knew of the incident is extremely short," he said, "with your name right at the top of it. If you have nothing to hide, there is no reason for you not to share with us what you know."

"I can give you two very good reasons," I responded, pointing at him, "I don't know you." I then pointed at the woman, "and I don't know you. If you're on the up and up, Mick will tell me so when she calls me back."

"We don't have all day..." the man began before being cut off by the woman.

"In addition to the voicemail that Mr. Gayner left for her, I have also texted her. She knows that we were planning on speaking with him today, so she'll get back to us as soon as she can."

Her comments were providential as my cellphone rang. What would appear on all but a few caller ID's is the words "Restricted Number". What appeared on mine was "Miss OC 1978".

I answered, "Hello..."

"Hi, Rory, it's me."

At Mick's insistence, we had a long-established routine to ensure that we were positive that we were speaking to each other and not someone trying to impersonate one of us over the phone, "What brand of beer were we drinking on July 18^th, 1976," I asked her.

"Olympia," Mick answered and then asked the counter-question, "Why Olympia?"

"Don't you know it's the water?" I replied, quoting the slogan for the long-defunct Olympia Brewery. "Good to hear your voice, Mick. How's the family?"

"As busy as usual, Rory. In fact, I need to get back to them now. Can you please answer any questions that Heather or her investigator ask? I wouldn't let them bother you, but it's important."

"Could I ever say 'No' to you, Mick? Get back to your family. I'll take care of things here for you."

"Thanks Rory. Let's try to do lunch sometime next month."

I knew that this wouldn't happen, but not because either of us didn't want it to, so I said, "Of course, anytime. Have your people call me when you're available."

"I will," Mick answered with a hint of sadness in her voice. "Thanks again, Rory. You're always on my mind and in my heart."

With the call disconnected, I looked at the couple sitting on the sofa across from me and asked, "What do you want to know?"

"Why don't you tell us about your involvement with the incident in question?" the investigator said.

I thought back to a summer more than forty years ago and began to tell my tale...

~~~

Her noticing me wasn't a surprise. The beautiful and sincere smile on her face and in her eyes as they were directed straight at me definitely was.

I set the two six-packs of beer onto the belt, then placed the plastic divider between them and the groceries belonging to the person in front of me in line. I then added the package of steaks behind the beers and focused on the magazine covers lining the check-out lane at Von's.

If I had known that she would be working the express lane late on this Sunday morning, it wouldn't have made any difference. We saw each other several times a week, either when her dad and I carpooled to work, or here at her place of employment when I did what constituted grocery shopping for me. It's not that we didn't like each other, but there had always been a recognized and respected 'distance' between us.

First, there was the fact that I was almost seven years older than her. That wasn't as significant then, I suppose, since she was eighteen and I was twenty-four at the time, but when she was twelve and started trying to flirt with me while I was eighteen, the difference was much more meaningful. Then there was the fact that I had become nothing but a slovenly surfer in her eyes; someone who would rather spend time at the jetty catching waves than attending college to make something of themself.

She on the other hand was little Miss Popularity all through her high school years. Her father, Dick, had told me that she had been considering submitting an entry form for the Miss Orange County beauty pageant, so I knew that her self-image hadn't suffered upon graduation from high school, and there's no reason that it should. She was still radiantly beautiful, especially when she smiled like she was doing at that moment when my turn came to check out.

"Hi Rory," she said with a foreign warmth in her tone. "How are things?"

"Hey Mick. Things are good. I'm just getting sustenance to hold me through watching the Olympics tonight."

"That answers one question I wanted to ask you," she said. She rang up the two six-packs of beer and slid them down for the box boy to bag. She then glanced at the steaks before ringing them up.

"What else did you want to know?" I asked.

She totaled my order, stared back up to me with those amazing eyes, and said, "Twelve thirty-eight. I was wondering if you were having anyone over to watch the Olympics or if you were going to be alone tonight. I see that you're buying four nice ribeye steaks, so I was curious."

I handed her a twenty and watched as she bit her bottom lip while making change. I knew that she wasn't mathematically challenged, so I was curious about her behavior.

"I don't expect anyone to come over," I told her while trying to keep any suspicion out of my voice, "but the family pack pricing for the steaks made buying them the best value. I'll grill just one tonight unless someone pops in unexpectedly. If not, then I'll just freeze the rest of them."

She handed me my change and leaned closer. I could smell the scent of Herbal Essence shampoo when she asked, "Did my dad mention that our television is in the shop?"

"Yeah, he said that the tuner went out or something like that," I answered.

Remaining as close to me as the counter between us would allow, she nodded and said, "I really wanted to watch Shirley in the 4 x 100-meter medley tonight, so would you mind if I came over and watched it on your TV?"

"Interesting," I thought. My parents still lived next door to the Pfeiffers, but I lived about a mile away in my own apartment. Why would Mick choose to ask to watch the Olympics at my place when she had other options closer to her house, and with people that she didn't appear to loath as much as she did me?

"I hadn't planned on watching any of the swimming events," I told her. "I mean, I know that they'll be part of the television coverage, but I generally find something else to do while they're on. If you don't mind watching them alone, feel free to stop by."

I guess that I should explain here that Olympic swimmer Shirley Babashoff had attended Fountain Valley High School, and graduated the year before Michelle, or 'Mick' as I called her. Shirley was almost as popular as Mick in high school, especially since she was a bit of a celebrity for having medaled in the 1972 Munich Olympics. I didn't know how close Shirley and Mick were but assumed that they at least knew each other since Mick's older brother had dated Shirley when they were in high school. It made some sense that Mick would be interested in watching her former classmate competing once again in the Olympics, this time in Montreal.

"I get off at two," she said with a hint of 'fait accompli' in her voice. "I'll stop off at home to change and then be over to your apartment by three. Would that be okay?"

"I guess," I said. "I'm not sure when the event that Shirley is in will air, but I'm sure it will be after three. Do you want me to save one of the steaks for you?"

"I wouldn't want to impose..." she began.

"Hey, the coals will be just as hot for one steak as for two. If you're still there when I eat, I'll throw one on for you. Are you okay with beer to drink or do you want something else?"

At eighteen, Michelle was under the legal drinking age and I saw that my bringing up the possibility of her consuming alcohol while standing in her place of work distressed her. I held up my hand and said, "Bring whatever you want. If I'm not in my apartment, I'll be out at the pool."

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes this time. In them, I saw what looked more like an expression of 'hope'. She handed me my receipt and said, "Thanks for shopping at Von's."

I was still confused over our interaction as I drove the short distance from the store on Beach Boulevard to my apartment off Magnolia Avenue. I had lived next door to the Pfeiffer family since they had moved into their house on Jefferson Drive in Midway City until I had moved out of my parent's house to an apartment of my own. It dawned on me during the drive that she seemed to already know where my apartment was because she never asked me for the address.

Over the last few years, Michelle had always been 'neighborly' I guess is the best way to describe it, but more reserved around me than anyone else in her family whenever her family and mine got together. I attributed this to her low opinion of my lifestyle choices, at least those that she knew about.

Yes, I had turned down football scholarships at several universities. Yes, I worked a blue-collar job installing and repairing air conditioning units. Yes, I dressed like a beach bum, because when I wasn't working, that's exactly what I was, at least during the summer. From September through the middle of June, I also attended Golden West College, taking certification classes for home appliance repair as well as business courses which would allow me to run my own company one day.

I was single, working forty to fifty hours a week, bringing home good money for someone my age, and banking the majority of what I earned. Between work and surfing, I stayed in good physical shape with a deep tan to complement my long sun-bleached hair. I drove a five-year-old Datsun pick-up because I didn't need anything fancier to carry my board to the beach. There were enough girls, and women, who were attracted to the care-free 'bad boy' image of a surfer that I could get laid almost any time I wanted.

I placed the beer and steaks into my refrigerator and then sat down on my sofa with the sports section from the Sunday paper. I had missed the opening ceremonies for the Olympics the day before, so I was hoping to get some sort of idea on the day's schedule of events from the paper. The events scheduled for the day were listed, but all the times were for when they were being actually performed in Montreal and not when the television coverage would air them.

Most of the events were what I would consider boring qualifying trials, but events in some categories, such as shooting, weightlifting, swimming, and cycling would have finals that day. None of those really interested me, but the USA Men's basketball team was scheduled to play Italy in a Group B qualifying game, and that's the event that I had been planning to watch when Mick had asked to come over.

From watching previous Olympic Games, I thought I had a pretty good idea of how the American broadcasts would be run. Most qualifying events would get cursory coverage during the afternoon, but popular events, such as gymnastics and men's basketball would get the most coverage to allow people the opportunity to start tracking their favorites. Events that featured a strong American presence would get priority coverage and typically be broadcast at the best times, usually in the evening when more people could watch them.

I was guessing that the basketball game featuring the American team would not be scheduled for broadcast until after five in the afternoon, and maybe not until after eight. This meant that there was a good chance that the swimming events that Mick wanted to watch would be over by then and she would have no reason to hang around my place afterward.

Look, Mick was not unpleasant for me to be around when other people were present. She would hold up her end of a conversation with someone else in a friendly manner and pay little attention to me. My concern was that she and I had never spent any time together alone, where she would be focused on me rather than other people talking to her. This would make undressing her with my eyes a lot harder for me to disguise. I had hoped that the Olympic coverage on TV would distract both of us.

Television pre-coverage was supposed to start in at two o'clock, so I assumed that I would be able to get a better idea of the planned broadcast schedule then. I turned the television on and settled back to read more of the paper while waiting for the Olympic coverage to start.

I had my front door open, so when Mick knocked on the aluminum frame of the closed screen door, she could see me check the time on my watch. It was only ten after two. There's no way that she could have gone home after work to change and be at my front door this soon. I motioned for her to come in as I silently watched the television screen to monitor the broadcast schedule being explained by the studio host, Jim McKay.

When I didn't hear the screen door open, I glanced over and saw that both of Mick's hands were full. I rose to open the door for her and as she stepped through, I took the covered dish that she was holding in her right hand, "What's this?" I asked.

"Potato salad," Mick said as she glanced around my apartment, inspecting everything visible with her bright, attentive, and beautiful eyes.

I carried the potato salad into the small kitchen and placed it onto a shelf in my refrigerator before turning back and asking, "I thought that you didn't get off work until two. How'd you have time to go home, make potato salad, change your clothes, and drive over here in ten minutes?"

Mick's expression was playful as she set her purse and the beach bag that she had been holding in her other hand onto one of the kitchen chairs and said, "I made the potato salad yesterday. It's always better after it's had a chance to sit overnight."

"Okay," I said, "So you didn't just make potato salad to bring over here. That makes sense because you and I didn't arrange this until this morning."

Her grin could be almost as sexy as her smile. It was her eyes that set the tone for each. "I asked Didi to bring me the potato salad when she brought me a change of clothes so that I wouldn't have to run to the house before coming over here. My work clothes are in my car."

I glanced at the beach bag and asked, "Then what is in that bag?"

"You had mentioned that I might find you at the pool," she said, "so I thought that I would bring my bathing suit in case you might let me join you there. I brought a towel and a few other articles of clothing just to be prepared."

Mick was wearing a light blue sleeveless cotton blouse and cut-off denim shorts with flip-flops on her feet. Her shoulder-length blonde hair was in a ponytail that seemed to bounce without any noticeable movement of her head or body.

I stood in my kitchen, silently studying Mick and trying to figure out the motivation for her sudden interest in visiting my apartment while she continued to gaze around the areas of the apartment visible from her position near the kitchen table. This was just a small breakfast nook area adjacent to the kitchen that provided a transition from the living room area.

I kept my apartment neat and tidy, which I think that Mick was surprised to see. I said, "I guess we could head over to the pool for a while. Do you want to take anything to drink down with you? I have a couple of diet sodas and of course, beer."

"I'm good for right now," Mick said. She pointed to the three-shelf bookcase that my television sat on top of and asked, "Are those your yearbooks from high school?"

I glanced at the bookcase and then back to Mick, "Yes, my sophomore, junior, and senior years. Why?"

"Can we take those down to the pool with us?" Mick asked. "I would love to look through them if you wouldn't mind. A lot of my teachers taught the same years that you were there and it would be interesting to see what they looked like back then."

"Not a good idea," I said while shaking my head. "While kids aren't allowed to live in this complex, quite a few tenants have custody of their kids on weekends and bring them here. This being a Sunday afternoon, there's likely to be a few rowdy kids still splashing around the pool and I don't want the yearbooks to get wet. You can look at them later though."

I had run into a few of my former high school teachers since graduating and knew how the years had been kinder to some than others, so Mick's interest in seeing them then versus now didn't sound unreasonable.

"Okay," Mick acquiesced, "Where can I change?"

I pointed to a short hallway on the back wall of the living room and said, "Your choice, either the bathroom, which is the door to the left, or my bedroom, which is the door straight ahead."

I didn't feel that she needed to know that turning right in the hallway would lead to the second bedroom, which I used for storage of my surfboard and other items that would typically be stored in a garage since my apartment didn't come with one of those.

Mick glanced at the board shorts that I still wore before picking up her beach bag and carrying it into my bedroom. These were the same shorts that she had seen me in at the store earlier, and one of three pairs of board shorts that constituted the majority of my wardrobe when I wasn't working or in a class.

While she didn't close the door behind her, she did walk out of view for me from where I remained in the kitchen. I didn't know if she would come into view if I went back to the living room, but I stayed put until she reappeared with her bikini on and carrying a towel. I resisted the strong desire to stand in my kitchen, simply staring at her bikini-clad body by walking out to the living room and turning off my television.

I had never seen Mick wear anything other than very conservative one-piece swimsuits in all the years I had known her. My parents' house had a pool, and the Pfeiffer family were frequent guests at our house and in the pool. It was on one of those occasions only three years previous that I had bestowed upon her the nickname 'Rip Curl Girl'. I don't know if her older brother, Rick ever told her the meaning of the name, but I have suspected that he did at some point by the way that Mick's attitude towards me deteriorated in recent years.

I placed a ball chain around my neck that held one of the keys to my apartment and said, "Let's go."

"You're not going to leave your t-shirt here?" Mick asked.

"I suppose I could," I said. The t-shirt had both sleeves ripped off, and tears in the collar, so it slips on and off easily. The key on the chain bounced against my bare chest as it cleared the shirt. I couldn't help noticing that Mick seemed quite focused on the key for some reason as it settled against my tanned skin.

I twisted the throw on the doorknob to lock my front door and held the screen door open for a silent Mick to exit onto the small porch. I had been hoping that she would proceed in front of me to the pool so that I could watch that perfect heart-shaped ass in her bikini bottom, but she waited for me to close the door and took up position next to me instead. When she looped her left arm around my right, I didn't know what to think.

I escorted Mick around the building that my apartment was in, through the garden area that surrounded the pool area and then through the gate. As I suspected, there were still a few kids in the pool, but they were restricted to the shallow end. I found us seats at a table under an umbrella closer to the deep end of the pool and pulled one lof the chairs out for Mick.

"Let's give it a few minutes," I told her. "Usually the weekend visitations start wrapping up in the early afternoon so that the kids are ready to return to their custodial parent before supper time. Did you want to lay out in the sun for a while?"

I was hoping that she did want to lay out. That would provide me with a great opportunity to enjoy her in her bikini.

"No," Mick said, "I didn't bring any suntan lotion and would prefer just to cool off in the water for a bit. If you want to lay out though, go ahead. Don't let me stop you."

"I've got some cocoa butter in my apartment if you want to use that," I told her.

Mick smiled a smile that I hadn't seen before. It was flirtatious to the point of almost being seductive, "Sunbathing with you around would be nice, but only under the right conditions."

Not believing what I was hearing, I chuckled and asked, "And what conditions might those be?"

Mick leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Privacy. Lots of privacy and seclusion."

I was stunned into silence, and this seemed to make Mick's mysterious smile even more pronounced.

After only about five minutes, the last of the kids had been removed from the pool and the water surface was already starting to calm.

"Ready to check out the water?" I asked.

"I am sooo ready," Mick said as she stood up, leaving her towel on the seat. "Being wet with you is high on my agenda for today."

Okay, with almost any other girl, that double entendre would have been obvious, but I had to chalk it up to innocent word choices from Mick.

Mick walked over to the diving board, finally giving me the view of her ass that I had been craving. Maybe it was the sun playing tricks on my eyes, but there was a sway to her hips that I had never noticed before. She shot me a smile when she glanced back over her shoulder and then proceeded to launch herself into a cannonball off the end of the diving board.

While she was still under water, I followed her onto the diving board. I walked to the end to check where she was so that I wouldn't dive in on top of her and saw that she was swimming under water towards the shallow end of the pool. I dove in, allowing my momentum to propel me in the same direction that she was headed.

I broke the surface to find Mick standing at a depth where the water came just below her breasts. She saw me watching the rivulets of water racing off her head and neck before disappearing under the fabric of her bikini top.

"Rip Curl" girl," she said with a teasing smile. "Remember?"

For anyone who isn't a surfer and doesn't understand the reference, "Rip Curl" is a popular brand of surfboards from Australia, so referring to a girl as a "Rip Curl" girl was a way of denoting that she was "as flat as a surfboard".

The nickname certainly didn't apply to Mick any longer. While not bodacious, her breasts had developed into nice, perky 'A' cups which provided a teasing hint of mouth-watering cleavage that I was finding it difficult to take my eyes off of.

I don't know if it was out of sympathy for my befuddled state or part of her "agenda" as she had called it, but Mick placing her arms around my neck and pulling us together into a bikini and board shorts embrace quickly refocused my attention from her breasts to the feel of her smooth, wet body against mine.

Our noses were practically touching when she made the superfluous comment, "I'm all grown up, Rory."

I placed a platonic kiss onto the tip of her nose as my hands went to her narrow waist and said, "Obviously!"

Mick tightened her arms around my neck as she brought her legs up to wrap around my waist. If the effect that her body was having on me hadn't been obvious to her before, it certainly became so when her bikini-clad 'kitty' started to plump up the 'hot dog' in my board shorts. Even with two layers of cool, wet fabric between us, I could feel the heat emanating from her arousal.

"That answers that question," she giggled.

"What question is that?"

"The 'I wonder if Rory likes me' question."

"I've always liked you, Mick," I told her. "I thought that you didn't like me."

"Rory Gayner, I have had the biggest crush on you since sixth grade. How could you not know that? Everyone else did."

"Okay," I admitted, "I suspected that you had a crush on me when you were in junior high but I thought that you had not only gotten over it, but had actually begun to despise me."

She lowered her legs to stand on her own once again on the bottom of the pool. "Let's go back to your apartment and have a little talk."

Without waiting for my answer, Mick took my hand and began leading us to the stairs in the pool. I allowed myself to be led back to the table where Mick picked up her towel and used it to start drying my hair, followed by the rest of my body. She then stood before me with an expectant smile on her face.

"If we're going to wait for me to drip dry, we'll be here for a while," she teased.

Finally getting the hint, I used my towel to perform the same drying function on her body. How could a girl who stood five-feet seven-inches tall have legs that seemed to be that long, if not longer? Kneeling before her to dry her legs and feet introduced me to the first scent of her womanhood. Man, did she smell inviting!

Mick reached down and pulled the chain with my apartment key from around my neck, "I'm as dry as I'm going to get for now," she said as she urged me to my feet. "Let's go talk."

I felt her slide her arm around mine once more as she was the escort on the trip back, setting a pace for us which was much more urgent than on our trip to the pool. She surprised me after unlocking and opening my front door by dropping the chain with my spare key into her purse.

"I think I'll hold onto this for a few days," she stated with noticeable assurance that I wouldn't object. "I may need to let myself in to watch the Olympics if you're not here."

"You're pretty sure of yourself," I said.

Mick didn't answer, but simply winked and closed my front door behind us. Heading to the sofa and picking up the remote control, Mick turned the television back on but muted the sound.

"Shirley is in the Women's 4x100 meter medley today, but she's also in the Women's 400-meter freestyle on Tuesday and the Women's 200-meter freestyle on Thursday. If you're not home from work in time for those events, I know that you would want me to feel free to come over and watch them without you."

"Oh I would, would I?" I asked while hanging our towels over the backs of two kitchen chairs to dry.

She ignored the question and asked, "My bottoms are still a little damp. Is it alright to sit on the sofa with them on?"

"It's not the wet that is the problem," I explained, "It's the chlorine that can dry out the Naugahyde on the cushions and lead to it eventually cracking. It's not the most expensive sofa, but I would like to keep it until I need something better."

"Fair enough," Mick said as she set the remote down and walked back into my bedroom. She returned almost immediately carrying a colorful sarong. I watched as she wrapped the material around her waist, tied a knot, and then turned her back to me. With the sarong covering from her waist to her knees, she reached underneath the front of it and proceeded to remove her bikini bottoms.

"Can I hang these over your shower door to dry?"

"Sure, go ahead," I told her. "I'll be changing into some dry shorts in the bedroom while you do that. Make yourself at home."

While I was changing into a pair of dry board shorts, I thought about the things that Mick had said since her arrival and her uncharacteristic actions towards me. If she was harboring some long-standing 'crush' on me, why bring it to the surface now? Okay, I could appreciate her consideration of the legal matter of her being underage for most of the time that she had held this alleged attraction to me, but she had been eighteen for almost three months now, and we had seen each other dozens of times over that period. What had been her motivation to broach the subject today? I didn't have an answer to that question.

I walked back out to the kitchen and pulled the t-shirt that I had been wearing earlier back on. Mick still had the television muted, but I could see that some updates on the days various qualifying events were being shown. Mick wasn't paying much attention to the television since she had her legs pulled up beneath her on the sofa as she read the comments that classmates had written in each of my yearbooks.

Without looking up at me, she asked, "Do you remember Karen Hendricks?"

I went to my refrigerator and pulled a beer out of one of the six-packs as I answered, "Sure. Would you like anything to drink now?"

"Are you sure you wouldn't mind if I drink beer in your apartment?" she asked, keeping her eyes on the pages of the yearbook. I think she was reviewing my junior year edition.

"Well, I know that your dad lets you and Rick drink at home on occasion, so as long as you respect the same rules here as you do there, I think I could allow it."

I grabbed another beer and walked it over to her. I glanced down at the yearbook in her lap and saw that she was still reading comments from classmates. "I thought you wanted to check out the teachers."

Mick paused to pop the top on the can of beer and said, "I'll get to it. You really were pretty popular in high school, especially with the girls if these comments are any indication."

I chuckled and sat down beside her on the sofa, "High school guys aren't the most sentimental people. The best that we could usually do is repeat the same dumb joke in every yearbook we signed. Girls seemed to take it to the other extreme, but don't believe everything you read there."

I too had attended Fountain Valley High School. I was the starting quarterback on the football team in my junior and senior years and this naturally helped me to spread the legs of almost any girl I wanted. I admit to leading several girls on with the hope of a relationship, hanging out with the 'cool' crowd at school or at least a date to a dance; and I popped more cherries than I can remember. As a result, the title of "Virgin Slayer" is featured prominently in several comments from classmates inside my yearbooks.

Mick looked over to me with a smile and said, "Don't worry, I won't believe everything I read."

"I thought that you wanted to have a talk," I reminded her.

"I do," she said. "Let's start with you telling me how many girls that you have had sex with."

Her face was still focused on the pages of my yearbook, but what I could see of it had reddened slightly.

"I don't carve notches into my bedpost or anything," I told her, "and I don't know that it's any of your business even if I knew the number."

Mick giggled and said, "Then if I count the comments from girls who signed this yearbook, each with an implied admission of having had sex with you, I would estimate nine 'notches' in your junior year. Does that sound right?"

"I will neither confirm nor deny your allegation," I said with a smile. "Those girls might kiss and tell, but I never have."

"That's what Karen Hendricks said about you," Mick said as she switched to my senior yearbook. "She's the one who suggested that I read some of the comments in your yearbooks."

"How do you know Karen Hendricks?" I asked. "She was in my senior class so you wouldn't have known her from school."

"She's Karen Baker now," Mick stated while continuing to read comments in my yearbook. "She's the new front-end manager for the morning shift at my store. She transferred from one of the Von's stores in Anaheim a couple of weeks ago and we've had a few opportunities to chat since then. Ah, here's what she wrote about you."

She raised a hand to stop my response as she concentrated on reading the words written by one of the girls I had deflowered during my senior year. When Mick had finished, she closed the yearbook and shifted her position on the sofa to face me directly.

She said, "Karen told me that you might be the right person to help me, and after reading the comments from other girls in your yearbooks, I think she is right."

I pointed to the television and said, "It looks like the qualifying for the Women's 4x100 meter medley is about to start, so if you want to watch it, you had better get to the point of what you wanted to talk about."

Mick glanced over her shoulder at the television before turning back to me and saying, "There's no way that the US team won't qualify, so we can talk during the qualifying heats. What do you remember about Karen?"

I studied Mick for several seconds before asking, "Why, what did Karen tell you?"

Mick's smile grew wider and she seemed to grow more excited as she said, "Karen told me that you were only one of two guys that she has ever had sex with, the other being her husband. She also told me that you were her first but because you never told anyone about you two, she went to her husband on their wedding night with him still believing that she was a virgin. She told me that the rumors that she had heard from other girls about what a considerate lover you were is what made her decide to give her virginity to you rather than to her boyfriend at the time; the guy who is now her husband."

"If Karen or anyone else wants to share their sexual exploits with you, I can't stop them," I said.

Mick giggled and pointed to my yearbooks, "Obviously, but why do only the girls who wrote in your yearbooks share your exploits? We both know how teenage boys love to brag about their conquests."

"Look," I said, "I'm not going to name names or even confirm whether any of the comments in the yearbooks are accurate. What I will tell you is that I always respect anyone that I have sex with, and that respect carries over into being discrete about what happened."

Mick reached over and took my hands into hers and said, "From what Karen told me, as well as what I read into the comments from other girls, you were more than respectful and discrete. Every one of them claims that losing their virginity to you was a mind-blowing experience and one that they would always treasure. Can you tell me why they felt that way?"

"I don't know that it would be proper for me to go into details..."

Mick interrupted me, "Then can you show me?"

After I picked my bottom jaw up from where it had fallen into my lap, I said, "Mick, what exactly are you asking?"

"Geez," she said, "you're really going to make me spell this out, aren't you?"

I nodded and asked, "What's going on, Mick?"

She sighed and suddenly became extremely interested in her hands as she started to explain, "Rory, I'm sure that you know about my ambitions for a career in acting..."

"Yes, I have heard about some of your plans from your dad."

"Well," she continued, "I have had discussions with several people who advised me that it's never too early to start protecting myself against bad publicity, or worse, blackmail should I eventually become famous. Never let my guard down around people that I didn't trust, and so on."

"That doesn't sound like bad advice," I said. "Hollywood is famous for the careers of stars being ruined by bad publicity or scandal."

"Did you know that I had been offered to have a photoshoot for Playboy magazine?" Mick asked.

"No, your dad never mentioned that which doesn't surprise me."

"I suppose it wouldn't be something he would share with you," she agreed. "Anyway, I turned it down flat. I want to be considered a serious actor. In fact, I'm saving up to take acting lessons within the next year."

"I'm sure that you'll be a great actress," I told her, "but what does that have to do with me and what you are asking of me?"

"Rory, you heard what I said about people I could trust, right? Well, from what Karen told me, what I read in your yearbooks, and your responses to my questions, I believe I can trust you to take my virginity and maintain the secret for the rest of your life, regardless of how famous I may eventually become. I can trust you, can't I?"

Before I could answer, Mick continued, "Look, when I told that I have had a crush on you since sixth grade, it wasn't quite what my words might have implied. You're a nice guy, Rory, and I don't need to tell you how attractive you are to me and all other women, but my 'crush', if we can call it that is entirely physical. I have lusted for you since puberty, but I've always known that there could never be anything between us but friendship. Our ambitions and drive for success are too different. I would like to explore a physical relationship with you for a while, but only if you're okay with us keeping it as such."

Laughing at her comment made Mick's smile disappear until I said, "The fact that you and I will likely never be socially compatible is not something I would ever argue with, but what makes you think that we would be compatible enough to have a physical relationship?"

"That's a fair question," she said. "I'll tell you why. First, even if you won't share any of the details of your past encounters with other girls, I know that you have much more experience than any of the boys that I have fooled around with so far. I mean, no one has ever been beyond 'second base' with me, but the ones I have been with have been fumbling fools where their knowledge of a girl's body is concerned. I know that you will know what to do. Secondly, I know that your body responds to mine. I verified that in the pool earlier. Finally, I know that I get wet with you..."

"Yes," I agreed, "your wet body did feel good against mine..."

"You don't understand, Rory," Mick said. She released one of my hands so that she could use hers to point at her sarong. "You make me wet. You made me wet between my legs when I was twelve and thoughts of you or the sight of you have made me wet every single day since then, and we've never even touched each other until today. So, while I may not have a lot of experience in such things, I have no doubt that we will be physically compatible."

I thought it was time to test just how serious this little vixen was in her request, so I said, "Show me."

"Show you what? How compatible we will be?"

This time I used my free hand to point at her sarong and said, "Show me that you're wet between your legs."

I rose from the sofa, maintaining the hold I had on one of her hands and used that to help her to her feet. Mick was speechless as I led her into my bedroom and stopped at the foot of the bed.

"Show me," I said again.

"What, no kissing or anything first?" she asked with obvious confusion.

I smiled at her, and then pulled off my t-shirt, "Show me."

Mick stared at my bare chest for several seconds. She made a move to untie her bikini top but stopped when I shook my head.

I untied the drawstring on my board shorts and said, "Show me, Mick."

Her eyes were getting glassy as she lowered them to watch my hands at the waistband of my shorts. She was biting her bottom lip as she watched me begin to lower them.

I paused just as the waistband began to expose the upper portion of my pubic hair and changed tactics. I stepped over to Mick and began untying the knot holding her sarong closed. As reluctant as she was to remove it when I had asked her, she offered no resistance to me removing it for her. As the knot came free, I released my grip on the sarong and let it fall to the floor at her feet.

I stepped back from her and said, "Now show me."

Standing before me, wearing nothing but her bikini top, Mick's expression was more confused than ever. I took her hand, turned and positioned her at the foot of the bed before placing my hands on her shoulders, and urged her to sit. Once again, she offered no resistance as she sat and looked up at me with a questioning, yet compliant expression.

"Show me," I repeated, but Mick just sat there watching me and waiting.

I moved my right foot between her two feet and gently pushed against first her left, and then her right to get her to spread her legs as she sat silently on my bed. When her legs were spread enough to fully expose her inner thighs on both legs, I knelt on the floor between her feet.

I placed a hand on each of her knees and began slowly sliding them up her thighs, once more saying, "Show me."

I finally felt her body complying with my request, although I wasn't convinced that it was a conscious choice of hers or just her body responding to a desire for my touch to proceed unobstructed towards its target. Her breathing was irregular and her body was becoming flush. When my hands reach the apex of her thighs, a soft moan escaped her lips.

She was definitely as wet as she had claimed, but I hadn't doubted that. I had been smelling her scent since I had dried her off at the pool, and it had only grown stronger while we chatted on the sofa. I leaned forward and placed my lips in the center of the pubic hair above her pussy, lightly kissing it before capturing some between my lips and gently pulling it. I moved my head back and looked into her eyes.

"Thank you," I said.

Mick gasped and asked, "What are you thanking me for? I haven't done anything yet."

I reached behind her back and released the knot securing the bottom strap of her bikini top, and said, "You showed me. Thank you for that."

I raised her bikini top over her head. As it cleared her head, I used her ponytail to gently pull her back to lay her head on the bed with her knees bent over the end and her feet still resting on the floor. I crawled onto the bed beside her and lightly caressed her face before leaning over to kiss her.

Her lips met mine with tentative acceptance. I sensed that she had expectations of how a man and woman would kiss while having sex, but she wasn't confident enough in them to do anything but follow my lead. I took my time, using my lips to capture each of hers, one at a time where I would nibble and lick on it, feeling it swell under my ministrations.

Her arms were still laying at her sides, but I could feel their restless movements as she brushed them over the bed or bunched the bedspread up in her fists as she tried to determine what she should do with her hands. I never gave a girl any guidance, allowing them to develop their reactions naturally and without consideration for anything other than what felt right for them. Some would take longer than others to discover the 'give and take' that would bring pleasure to them and their partner, but they all got there eventually, and I had never been disappointed.

Mick was a case in point. After kissing her for about five minutes, I felt her lips parting and the nervous probing of her tongue as it sought entry between my lips. I parted my lips, inviting her exploration as I began teasing her tongue without doing anything to inhibit it.

Mick placed a hand behind my head and pulled me to her, urging me to roll my body slightly on top of hers, which freed her other arm and hand to begin exploring my back with her fingernails. Starting at my shoulders, she combined a tactile exploration of my back with the languid movements of our tongues to slowly build her confidence.

The key to letting a girl explore her reactions was to slowly add new sensations for them to react to. After kissing Mick for about ten minutes, I broke my lips way from hers and began exploring her face, neck, ears, jawline, and every other spot that my experience had proven to stimulate reactions in one girl or another.

Mick was more responsive than most, moaning and growing more flushed with every kiss, nibble or lick that I bestowed upon any part of her body. The hand that had been exploring my back was now stopped just above the waistband of my shorts and I knew that it had reached the limit of its reach rather than the limit of Mick's desire to explore.

I raised my head and looked down at Mick's face. It took a few seconds before my pause in kissing her body caused her to open her eyes and return my gaze.

"So far," I said, "we have had a rather intense make-out session. I'm fine with stopping here if you want, but the choice is yours, Mick."

"Do you have any condoms?" Mick asked. "Because if you do, then I don't want to stop. If you don't, then as much as it would frustrate me, I guess now would be the time to regain some control."

"I have a few condoms in the nightstand," I assured her, "but don't let that be a factor in your decision. You should consider whether you want to take things one 'base' at a time or go for a grand slam here today. I have no problem hanging around 'third base' all day if that's would make you more comfortable."

"You haven't even been to 'second base' yet," Mick said in exasperation. "You are the slowest base runner I have known."

"Slow and steady wins the race," I teased. "Are you complaining about my consideration for you and your first real sexual experience?"

"Patience is a virtue I cannot wait to get," Mick said with a laugh. "You're just heating me up like I've never experienced..."

"I know what I'm doing," I assured her. "For example, I am letting you cool off at the moment so that I can heat you up some more. Are you ready?"

"Aren't I suppose to be doing something to heat you up too?"

"Are you getting the sense that I'm not getting heated up by what we have been doing because I can assure you that I am. I want to give you some advice, Mick, and not just as it relates to sex between two people. Sometimes the best gift that you can give someone is to unconditionally accept their gift to you. Where we are concerned today, I will get my greatest pleasure from showing you just how pleasurable sex can be for you. Knowing that what we do today will be a foundation that you will remember every time that you are with someone in the future is my motivation to let this be all about you. If we ever have the opportunity again and you want to explore ways to unselfishly pleasure your partner, we can discuss that, but it's not on the lesson plan for today's class."

Mick threw my own words back at me, "Show me."

I laughed and then reached down to slide my board shorts down my legs until I could use my feet to finish removing them. Mick glanced down at my erection and stared.

"Jesus! Do you have a license to carry that thing?"

"Seen a lot of erect penises have you, Mick?" I laughed.

"Of course not, but that's more intimidating than anything I have seen. Why does it look so different?" she asked.

"In the first place, I'm not huge by any stretch of the imagination, but the fact that I am uncircumcised could be what makes me seem 'intimidating' as you called it. Watch."

I reached down and pulled the foreskin back to expose the head of my cock for Mick to examine.

"Why aren't you circumcised," Mick asked as she studied my cock with renewed interest.

"I was born in Europe when my dad was stationed there. We didn't live near an American base with a hospital, so I was delivered in a local hospital where boys were not routinely circumcised after birth unless they were Jewish. By the time we moved back to the states, my parents thought the procedure would be too painful for me so they never had it done. Everything on me functions as it should. I just have the foreskin that most American males don't have."

"Can I touch it?" she asked.

"You can do or not do anything you want, Mick. Let me shift around here so that you don't have to stretch so much to reach me while I try to 'steal second base'."

Mick's breasts were each perfect little hand fulls, with small, pert nipples that cried for stimulation, which in turn made Mick cry in pleasure. I spent only a few minutes dedicated to 'second base' before going after the 'shortstop'. My mouth remained focused upon her breasts as my hand moved on to 'third base', finally sampling the liquid evidence of Mick's arousal on my fingers.

Stimulating Mick's pussy made her previously gentle caresses of my cock too aggressive for comfort, so I removed her hand from my shaft. She made a move to return her hand, so in self-defense, I scooted off the end of the bed and pulled Mick down so that my face could reach her pussy from where I was kneeling.

"What are you doing?" Mick asked in a fearful tone.

"I'm going to give your "kitty" a bath," I told her with a chuckle.

"Uh, hasn't my 'kitty' been hanging around the 'litter box' too much for you to give her a bath? It can't be very appealing down there."

"I promise that I won't toss my cookies or anything," I teased. "Relax and trust me. You seemed to like me touching you there."

"Touching and tasting are two totally different senses, but it's your mouth, and I do trust you..."

Without further ado, I used my tongue to spread her virginal pussy lips and taste her sweet nectar. I wasn't prepared for the physical response of Mick's body lurching off the bed, which drove her pelvic bone painfully into my nose.

"Oh, God, are you okay?" she asked after settling back down on the bed. "You should warn a girl about how that was going to feel."

"I'm fine," I assured her. "I'll try to be gentler with you."

"No, that's okay. Now that I know what to expect I should be able to control things better."

"We'll see about that," I thought as I moved my shoulders under her legs, wrapped my arms around her thighs so that my hands were in a position to help spread her lips and hold her down if necessary. This time, I started at her anal rosebud, capturing the pool of her juices that had settled there, before slowly moving my tongue up her slit to insert it into her pussy and probe as deeply as it would reach.

Mick's body was squirming, but it hadn't bucked again. As I removed my tongue from her pussy, I inserted a single finger to take its place. My tongue ventured upward, savoring each side of her juicy labia before stopping to lightly tease her clit. I couldn't have touched her clit more than three times with the lightest 'butterfly wing' soft licks I could manage before Mick screamed and had her first orgasm from oral sex.

"Fuck, I'm loving 'third base'," Mick panted. "Please don't stop."

I didn't stop. I used every trick and technique that I had learned over the years to keep Mick in a constant state of orgasmic bliss for more than half an hour, ceasing only when she finally begged me to let her rest. I pulled a clean t-shirt from my dresser and offered it to Mick. Damn, that shirt had never looked so good.

I slid into my board shorts and said, "Our beers are probably flat, but we have more of those. Are you getting hungry yet?"

Mick threw her arms around me, kissed me on the lips, and said, "Give me a few minutes to get all my senses working again. I know that I'm thirsty, so can we start with that?"

"Sure, follow me."

I led her back out to the kitchen and got each of us a new beer out of the refrigerator. Mick popped the top on her can, guzzled almost the entire eight ounces, let out a most unladylike belch, and then gave me an embarrassed smile.

"Sorry."

I let out my own belch and said, "When in Rome..."

"Rory, I'm not saying this because you just rocked my world like no one ever has; you are someone who will always be precious to me, just as you are to all those girls who signed your yearbooks and probably several others since high school."

"You do know that you're still a virgin, right?" I asked her with a teasing smile.

"Baby steps," Mick giggled. "Do you think we should check the television to make sure that we haven't missed any of the events that we wanted to see?"

I pointed towards the living room and told her, "You can go check the television. I'm going to take a couple of steaks out to let them start getting to room temperature. I'll start the barbeque in about half an hour. How does that sound?"

Mick answered over her shoulder as she walked into the living room, "That sounds good. Do you want anything besides the steaks and potato salad?"

"I have a fruit salad that my mom made. Do you remember her fruit salad?"

"The one with all the different melon types with grapes, strawberries, plums, and peaches?" Mick asked.

I nodded and said, "That's the one. Thanks for bringing the potato salad. It's the perfect side dish for steak on a warm day like today."

Mick had an embarrassed expression when she admitted, "When I made the potato salad, I didn't know that you would be buying those steaks. I just kind of hoped that it would go with whatever you had for us to eat when I came over today."

It was obvious from her earlier revelation about talking with Karen Hendricks that Mick's inviting herself over today was not a spur of the moment decision, so I didn't think that perpetuating her embarrassment over that fact served any useful purpose.

"Great intuition on your part," is what I said.

Mick glanced at the television and said, "Shirley's event is coming up. I know that you said that the swimming events don't interest you, but would you watch it with me?"

"Sure," I said as I walked out and sat next to Mick on the sofa.

As soon as I was seated, Mick scooted back to lean against me, pulling my arms around her. Now, I was not going to complain about the opportunity to cuddle with this beautiful, sexy girl, but her actions didn't seem to mesh with her earlier proclamation that she desired a friendly sexual relationship. I didn't cuddle on my sofa with any of my friends. I would make an exception for Mick as long as there was nothing emotional developing here.

My concerns were minimized as soon as Mick took my hand and placed it over her t-shirt covered breast. She whispered back to me, "I loved 'third base', but getting there from 'second base' was part of the enjoyment."

Realizing that Mick wanted to watch the swimming event combined with her needing to eat something, I endeavored to keep her slightly below a boiling point of arousal as we sat on the sofa together. As much as I think we both wanted me to place my hand under the fabric of the shirt so that I would be touching her bare breasts, I resisted the temptation.

With Shirley Babashoff swimming the freestyle leg, the USA team won the gold medal in the Women's 4x100 meter medley. I waited for the medal ceremony before attempting to stand up.

"What can I do to help?" Mick asked as she followed men into the kitchen.

I pulled her into my arms and kissed her forehead, "You can get the potato and fruit salads on the table." I pointed to the cabinets and said, "Plates are in that cabinet, and silverware is in the drawer next to the stove. Other than that, just do whatever is necessary in my absence to keep your engine running."

"Not to worry, Rory. I'm not leaving here tonight as a virgin. In fact, I may not leave here tonight at all. How would you like that?"

"I don't think my liking it or not plays into the equation," I laughed. "How would your parents like it if you didn't come home from my house tonight?"

"You let me worry about my parents," Mick said. "They know that I might not be home tonight, but they will never suspect that I am here."

"Okay, but if your dad comes after me in the morning, I'm throwing you under the bus."

I took my bag of charcoal and lighter fluid outside to the communal barbeques and got the coals started before returning to my apartment to season and prepare the steaks. Mick had finished getting the table ready and had returned to the sofa with my senior yearbook in her lap. I let her be and focused on getting the steaks onto the grill.

Over dinner, our conversation centered on the Olympics, or what we had seen of them so far.

"Those East German swimmers look more like guys than girls," Mick mentioned.

I laughed and said, "Their female swimmers look more like dudes than their male swimmers do. Their country is denying it, but those athletes have to be on something to get them looking and performing like they are."

"Isn't that cheating?" Mick asked.

"While whatever they're taking may not be banned by the Olympics," I said, "ethically, I think it would be considered cheating. Poor sportsmanship too, but in the political climate that exists between those communist countries and the United States, you can be pretty certain that their athletes are made to do whatever they're told to help their teams beat us."

"The basketball game that you wanted to watch will be on in a few minutes," Mick informed me. "You can go get ready to watch it and I'll clean up the dishes and stuff then join you."

I stood and said with a grin on my face, "I don't care how good of a housewife you make, I'm not going to marry you."

Mick laughed and threw her napkin at me. She waved her left ring finger at me and said, "You'll never see a ring that you could afford on this finger."

I laughed in return and tossed her napkin back onto the table before going into the living room and getting settled on the sofa. I unmuted the television just as the USA and Italy were tipping off. I didn't expect this to be much of a game, but I knew that guys at work and other places would be talking about it tomorrow, so I wanted to keep up on it first-hand.

Mick made quick work of putting what was left of the salads away and washing the few dishes that we had used. She cuddled up next to me on the sofa before the first commercial break. I had taken the position on the sofa closest to the television, which left everything to the right of me open, but Mick planted herself right up against me.

I felt her breath on my ear an instant before I heard her whisper, "Show me again." Her request was followed immediately by her hand tugging on my board shorts.

Demonstrating the proper way that a person should comply with such a request, I raised my hips off the sofa enough to pull my shorts off and left them on the floor at my feet. Mick meanwhile was busy pulling my t-shirt off and tossing it onto the floor next to my shorts.

"Would you mind if I explored this beast of yours while you watch the game?" Mick asked in a low and sultry voice that I hadn't heard her use before. "I don't want to distract you," she teased.

"How much experience do you have with handling a guy's 'beast' as you call it?" I asked her. I was remembering how I had needed to stop her rough handling earlier.

"Yours is my first," Mick said shyly. "That's why I want to explore yours."

"Explore away, but try to remember that what's between my legs is probably just as sensitive as what is between your legs. If it wouldn't feel good to you it probably won't feel good to me."

Mick giggled and said, "It's hard to see a comparison from a visual perspective, but I understand what you're saying from the perspective of feeling. Please let me know if I cause you any discomfort while I am exploring."

With that, Mick slid onto the floor between my legs. She reached out and gently took my flaccid 'beast' into her right hand. She slowly lifted and moved it around as she examined it and her fingers encircled it. I attributed the fact that her fingers didn't reach completely around the circumference to Mick having small hands and not to my massive girth. I might be slightly longer and wider than what is considered average for a guy's cock, but no girl had ever complained about me being too big for them, even all the virgins that I had deflowered.

I offered her no guidance, but simply enjoyed this almost clinical exploration of my uncircumcised cock. Mick lifted the shaft enough for her to access my testicles and then used her other hand to softly feel around them. I turned my attention back to the basketball game on the television and tried to ignore the fact that my cock and balls were in the hands of one of the most beautiful virgins that I had ever been with. While this may have delayed me getting firmer through Mick's exploration, it didn't prevent it.

She seemed especially entranced by sliding my foreskin down to reveal the crown of my cock. After doing this only a few times, Mick recognized the effect that her actions were having on me and diverted her other hand to hold my foreskin while she used the fingers on the first hand to trace around the crown and to lightly feel the squishy head.

Her claim of no experience came into doubt for me as Mick spat into the palm of her hand and began lubricating the exposed head of my cock. I took my eyes off the basketball game to glance at her and saw that she appeared almost hypnotized by what she was doing. She spat into her hand several more times, transferring the moisture to more and more of my cock until her one hand was sliding easily over it as her other hand continued to tease the head. As pre-cum began leaking from the slit, Mick would use it on the head while adding more of her spittle to keep the rest of my cock lubricated.

It wasn't the best handjob that I had ever received, but it was good enough for me to start feeling the twinges of an impending orgasm. I considered whether or not to warn Mick of what was about to happen, but then decided that letting her spontaneously experience what she was causing on her own would be a better education for her.

I resisted the urge to moan or show any other outward signs of the eruption that was seconds away from occurring. As the first shot of cum rose about a foot out of the end of my cock, Mick screamed but she didn't stop using her hands on me. A second spurt surprised her almost as much as the first, but by the third and fourth ones, she had almost expected them. My cock continued to pulse in her hand, but all that was left was a slow trickle of residual cum from the shaft, which Mick spread around the head before I finally had to stop her.

"It's a little sensitive at the moment," I told her.

Mick didn't say anything, but she did remove her hands from my cock. She sat back on her haunches and stared at the fruits of her labor that coated her fingers, and then glanced at my stomach where the majority of my cum had landed. I reached over to the table beside the sofa and grabbed a couple of tissues from the box there. I handed these to Mick and then grabbed a couple more tissues to use on my stomach.

"That was your first handjob, huh?" I asked.

Mick nodded shyly and said, "Yes, was it okay?"

"You don't get the results that you did if it wasn't better than okay," I said with a chuckle. "You did real good, and without any instruction from me."

"It may have been the first time that I did it," Mick explained, "but what guys like has been a topic of discussion with a few other girls over the years. I finally got to put their suggestions to the test. I'm glad that you enjoyed it. I do have one concern though..."

"And what might that be?"

"I've heard that once a guy has an orgasm, he's pretty much done for the night. Is that true?"

I stood and then pulled Mick to her feet as well. "No, it's not true," I said. "While most guys can't recover from their orgasms as quickly as girls can, we do recover. Let's go back to the bed and I'll show you a fun way to spend the time it's going to take me to recover."

Mick glanced over to the television and said, "But your basketball game isn't over."

"Oh, it's over," I laughed. "The Italians just don't know it yet. Come on."

I picked up my shorts and t-shirt from the floor and held them in one hand as I took Mick's in my other hand and led her back to my bedroom. As soon as I released her hand to pull down the covers on the bed, Mick pulled off the t-shirt that I had given her to wear.

"Maybe we should each spend a moment or two in the bathroom first," I suggested. "Nothing can interrupt passion and desire quite like an urgent call of nature. Why don't you go first and I'll get us both something to drink and bring it in here."

"Okay," Mick agreed as she literally skipped into the bathroom and closed the door.

I went back into the living room to turn off the television and the table lamp before heading into the kitchen to get two glasses of ice water for us.

Mick was standing at the foot of my bed when I entered the bedroom. "You seem pretty comfortable with your body," I mentioned. "Being naked in front of another person doesn't appear to bother you."

Mick stuck her tongue out at me and then said, "I was just thinking about that. When I saw myself standing naked in front of your bathroom mirror I realized that you are the first man to ever see me naked other than my father, and that was when I was a baby. I am usually very modest and only started wearing a bikini a few weeks ago. You witnessed that earlier when I was reluctant to remove my sarong when you asked me to. I think the fact that you're okay with being naked in front of me makes it easier for me to be naked in front of you."

"You have a beautiful body, Mick, and while I encourage you to always wear or not wear whatever clothing you might want, you need to know just how blessed you are with what the good Lord gave you."

"Thanks, Rory. I like that I can trust your comments and that you're not saying them just to get into my pants, mostly because you said them while I wasn't wearing pants."

"No fair!" I laughed. "I haven't been to the bathroom yet."

Mick was still laughing as I closed the bathroom door behind me. I took the time to do my business, brushed my teeth, and use a wet washcloth to further clean the drying cum off my stomach. Mick was sitting on the side of the bed when I returned to the bedroom. She appeared to be awaiting instructions from me as I took a seat beside her.

I held up the bottle of cocoa butter that I had brought back with me from the bathroom and said, "This has uses besides getting a suntan. Can I show you?"

Mick smiled warmly and said, "Lead me and I shall follow. What do you want me to do in order for you to show me?"

"I nodded towards the center of the bed and said, "Just roll over and lay in the center of the bed on your stomach."

She began moving towards the location on the bed and asked, "Do I need a pillow?"

"No, you'd probably be more comfortable with your face flat on the bed."

Mick assumed a position lying flat on her front with her head turned so that her right cheek was on the bed. She reached back and moved her ponytail over her right shoulder, leaving her back fully exposed for me with her arms at her sides.

"Any ticklish spots that you want to warn me about?" I asked.

"I'm ticklish everywhere if the right touch is used," Mick answered playfully, "so try not to use that touch and we'll be fine."

I started with her feet, which I think surprised her. I kneaded the cocoa butter into the bottom of each foot as if it were massage oil, which is exactly what I was using it for in this case. Holding a foot in each of my hands, I gently massaged the cocoa butter all around each of her toes, gradually working my way up her foot, massaging the balls of her feet with enough pressure for it not to tickle her. Her heels had some rougher areas, I assumed from the shoes that she wore, so I added a little extra cocoa butter to these areas as I massaged them and then around her ankles.

"Are you trying to get me so relaxed that I fall asleep on you?" Mick moaned as I began to massage her calves."

I leaned up and nibbled gently on her ass cheek, just to the right of her rosebud, which caused her to buck up off the bed.

"I think that you should take your opportunity to relax while you have it," I teased.

"Okay, okay!" Mick said. "I'll get relaxed but stay aware. You're too full of surprises for me to do otherwise."

I could measure the gradual increase in Mick's arousal with every sense in my body. I could feel it through her skin; I could hear it in her moans; I could see it in how her body responded to my touch; I could smell it from her juices, and I would soon be in a position to taste it. As my hands reached the top of her thighs, my thumbs gently brushed against her labia and I considered halting my massage at that point.

I soldiered on, however, spending at least five minutes massaging her perfect ass cheeks before proceeding up her back and finishing on her shoulders before instructing her to roll over.

Mick's eyes met mine as she settled on her back and I saw the remnants of tears in them. "Are you okay, Mick?" I asked.

"Yes, I'm just having silly thoughts," she said.

"Anything that you care to share?"

She sighed and said, "I don't love you, Rory, and I doubt that I ever could. But, you are going to forever hold a place in my life that no one else could ever hold. You're going to be my first sexual partner, and that fact alone will make you memorable. I know that I will always compare any other lover to you, and I'm beginning to fear that they will all come up short. You're making me feel so amazing already, and I'm still a virgin. I'm afraid that this is the best that I am ever going to have and I find that thought saddening."

I lay down beside her, put my arm around her, and pulled her into an embrace. "First of all, Mick, everyone remembers their first time, but far too few people remember it as the wonderful experience that it should have been for them. When I agreed to be your first, I made the commitment within my heart that I would make certain that you remembered our time together as something that you enjoyed, or at the very least didn't regret. Secondly, don't underestimate the role that emotions can play in making the sexual experience so much more fulfilling. When you love someone, you will feel passions and desires that are foreign to you here with me. Your body may respond to what I do, but that is only instinctive physical reactions to stimuli developed over years of human evolution. Trust me, when you make love, and not just have sex with someone, you'll know just how much better it can be."

Mick kissed my lips and said, "God, Rory, how can you say that what you are doing to me isn't loving? The way that you're touching me, the way that you kissed me, the way that you're holding me right now. Those are things that lovers do."

"Mick, everything I have done has been done to stimulate you physically, but you have admitted that none of it has made you fall in love with me. I hope that your lovers do everything that I have done to you, and then some. Let me ask you something, while you have let me do anything I have wanted to your body, have you felt any urges to do anything to my body other than 'explore' as you called it? Have you wanted to lick me, kiss me, touch me, or do anything else that you think that you would want to do if you truly felt passion or desire for someone?"

She thought for a moment before answering, "I have enjoyed kissing your mouth and running my hands down your back, but to the point I think you're trying to make, no, I haven't felt like tasting you or anything. In fact, when you had your orgasm and I had your cum on my hand, I stared at it for a minute thinking about what it would be like to taste the cum of my lover at some point, but I never considered tasting yours."

"Good," I said. "So, do you understand better what the difference is between what you and I are doing and what you will eventually experience with someone that you are truly in love with?"

Mick kissed me again and said, "Yes, but don't expect me to ever forget this time with you."

I raised beside her once more and said, "I don't expect that. Now, let me continue, okay?"

In response, Mick resumed her position, lying flat on her back, allowing me to massage cocoa butter onto her front. I had covered the front of her legs when I was massaging them earlier, so this allowed me to dedicate all of my attention above her waist until I worked my way down toward her pussy. Her breasts required even more massaging than her ass cheeks had, and I was more than happy to spend the time gently kneading each breast, making certain that each nipple also received an appropriate massage. I admit that I rushed over her flat, firm stomach in my haste to get to her pussy, but my recovery was far past complete and my patience wearing thin.

I put the cocoa butter aside when I reached Mick's pubic area because I didn't want to contaminate the essence that her body was providing for me. Instead of massaging this area, I placed her thighs over each of my shoulders and brought my face down to lick, tease, taste, and probe. I used Mick's flowing juices to lubricate first one, and then a second finger as I used them to slowly enter her tightness, while gently teasing her clit with my tongue. I wanted to ensure that she was as wet and loosened as possible to ease her pending deflowering.

Satisfied that I had her as prepared as I could manage, I scooted up beside her on the bed and laid flat on my back. I turned my head towards her and found her face turned towards me.

"I want to try you inside me," Mick whispered. "I think I'm ready."

"I think so too," I said. "Climb on up whenever you want to."

Mick's face took on a puzzled expression and said, "I don't understand."

"The thing that most girls fear their first time is that the guy will just plunge into them, and that is exactly what happens far too often, which is why so many girls claim that their first time was awful for them. You on the other hand, are going to climb on top of me, place your hands on my chest and lower yourself onto me at the pace that makes you most comfortable. Once I'm inside you and you're ready, we can change positions if that's what you want, but we're going to start with you on top. Okay?"

"It sounds more like you're being lazy and expecting me to do all the work," Mick teased, but the sparkle in her eyes told me that she appreciated the consideration I was showing her. She rolled over to lay on top of me, bringing her lips to mine for a deep and lengthy kiss before straddling me with her legs and moving into a position to accept my erection.

"Hold on!" I said the second that I felt her outer pussy lips sliding across my cock. I urged her aside to let me roll towards the side of the bed. I opened the nightstand drawer and extracted a condom packet.

"God, I'm glad that one of us is still thinking straight," Mick said. "I forgot all about protection. Thank you."

I just smiled and watched Mick watching me as I prepared the condom and then rolled it onto my cock. I then resumed my previous position and Mick climbed back on top of me. She once again began sliding her pussy against my cock as it lay between us, spreading her abundant juices over it and stimulating her clit in the process. I offered her no guidance and let her set the pace that she wanted, but it was torture for me. The heat emanating from her was like a flame that my moth of a cock was attracted to. I craved her pussy more than I had ever craved a pussy before.

Mick had her hands planted in the center of my chest. When she was ready, she raised her hips, reached back with her right hand, and placed it around the base of my cock and positioned it at her opening. Her apprehension was palpable as she struggled between her desire and her fear. I wanted to lunge up into her so badly, but I resisted. After what seemed like an eternity, I felt the head of my cock being slowly engulfed by her warmth.

Mick let out a gasp as she returned her hand to my chest so that she once again could support herself by leaning on them. "God, I thought you were stretching me with two fingers," she said in a breathless panting voice, "but your beast feels like your entire fist is trying to enter me. I'm going to need some time to adjust to this..."

"That's why I chose this position," I reminded her. "Take all the time you need. You set the pace."

"I may not love you," Mick panted, "but I love that you are so considerate. I'm going to try for a little more now. Be patient with me..."

While I was determined not to provide her with any guidance, I didn't see what harm some additional influence could do. I raised both of my arms so that I could cup one of her breasts into each of my hands and began to fondle them, paying particular attention to her distended nipples. The jolt that she felt starting in her breasts must have traveled quickly to her pussy because I could feel her muscles trying to pull my cock deeper inside her even as she struggled to maintain a slow and gradual entry.

I heard Mick gasp the same instance that the head of my cock felt the resistance of her hymen. "Take it slow," I suggested. "Rest here and rock back and forth a few times to get used to the feeling. There's no rush." So I was offering some guidance to her, but it was for her own good.

Continuing to fondle her breasts, I waited patiently for Mick to take the pivotal step. She squirmed on my cock, holding it just before her hymen for several minutes before finally allowing gravity to assist her. A sharp gasp denoted the sudden pain of her hymen tearing, but a smile quickly appeared on her face as she bottomed out with my cock against her cervix.

"That wasn't so bad," Mick said. "I feel like you're in my stomach. What should I do now?"

"Are you still comfortable in this position?" I asked. "Or do you want to try something else?"

"You wouldn't mind changing?" she asked.

In reply, I pulled her down to kiss her lips as I rolled her over onto her back so that I was now on top. My cock was still completely buried in her pussy and she squealed as our joint movements changed the pressure within her slightly. I began to slowly withdraw my cock until only the head remained inside her and then just as slowly re-entered her. I did this a few more times until Mick identified the rhythm and I could feel her hips begin to move to counter mine.

I was supporting my weight on my elbows placed on either side of her body. Her arms were once again lying flat on the bed at her sides. I leaned down to nibble and suck on her nipples, hoping to demonstrate to Mick how stimulating her breasts while having sex could intensify the sensations for her. I wasn't going to instruct her to play with her breasts, but if she learned from my example, I was fine with that.

I had abandoned her left breast to focus on her right when I felt her move her left arm and sensed that her hand had indeed replaced my mouth on that breast. I teased her right breast for only a couple of minutes before relinquishing control of that one to her right hand. Her breathing was becoming more ragged and the urgency of her hips more intense as her first orgasm began to rise within her. I reached down and pulled her legs over my shoulders to provide me greater unfettered access for stroking my cock in and out of her pussy.

I didn't increase the rhythm of my strokes, but I did make certain that each was a full stroke; from where the head of my cock was barely remaining at her entrance to the point where it pressed against her cervix. I threw in the occasional side-to-side motion to ensure that Mick's pussy had the full experience of being fucked for the first time.

Mick's eyes rolled back into her head and I thought that she was going to rip her own nipples off as her orgasm burst through her. The suddenness was something I had never experienced before with a girl, and the intensity was amazing to behold. She locked her pussy tightly around my cock, preventing me from any motion within her for almost a full minute. Were it not for the handjob that Mick had given me earlier, I would have lost control and cum far sooner than I would have wanted to.

Mick was panting so hard that hearing her voice came as a surprise, "So good... so fucking good..."

As Mick relaxed around my cock, I began stroking in and out of her again, but it was like one of those strings of firecrackers; her first orgasm seemed to light the fuse for the next, and the next, and the next one after that until she was screaming, alternating between pinching her breasts and digging her fingernails into my back. The spasms in her pussy were pulling me closer and closer to my own climax and I knew that I wouldn't be able to restrain it once it had started.

Mick placed her hands on either side of my face and pulled me down for a kiss that finally lit my fuse. She was sucking on my tongue while drawing blood on my back with her fingernails when I exploded with everything that my balls had, and probably some from my future offspring. The reservoir end of my condom was overflowing with my sperm, and I prayed that the damn thing would hold what I knew was the largest load of cum I had ever shot at one time.

Mick's own orgasms continued for several minutes until my withering erection no longer provided the stimulation that would drive her to more. I didn't want to collapse on top of her heaving body, so I rolled off to lay beside her as we both sought the oxygen our bodies now craved more than sex.

After a few minutes, I had the strength to reach over to the nightstand and pick up one of the glasses of ice water. I took a drink and then placed a hand under Mick's head to help her raise it enough to take a drink. I lowered her head back down and return the glass to the nightstand.

"You are amazing," Mick said in a drowsy but totally sated voice. "I am so glad that you agreed to provide me with my sexual education today."

"You're pretty amazing yourself," I told her. "If you ever want to expand upon your sexual education, you know where to find me. Just say when."

"Mark your calendar," she giggled, "for the date when you think I'll be recovered enough to do this again because I really want to do this again."

I laughed and said, "Well, you told me when you took my spare key that Shirley will be swimming again on Tuesday, then again on Thursday. If you're not recovered by Tuesday, you're sure to be by Thursday. How do those days sound to you?"

"I'm too exhausted right now to decide. Let me sleep on it and I'll let you know in the morning."

~~~

"What did she decide?" Heather the publicist asked.

She was flushed and breathing rapidly while the investigator guy was struggling to achieve a comfortable position for his obvious erection within his pants.

I considered how much more that these people needed to know, but remembered my commitment to Mick. I told them...

~~~

When Mick woke up the next morning, I was getting dressed for work. I had already finished in the bathroom, so that's where she headed first thing. I was sitting on the end of my bed, preparing to put on my shoes when Mick returned and crawled back into the bed and propped herself up on some pillows.

"How are you feeling?" I asked her.

Mick considered her answer for a few seconds and then said, "Except for a little soreness in an area that you have become very familiar with, I feel wonderful."

"I could try kissing it to see if it makes it feel better," I teased her, but to my surprise, Mick responded by throwing the covers off her legs and spreading them invitingly.

"Only your mouth this morning," she cautioned. "Your beast is more than I could take just yet."

I only had a few minutes before I would need to leave to pick up Mick's father, but fortunately, Mick's body was very cooperative. We left a small puddle of her juices from three orgasms when I forced myself to be a responsible carpool partner and pulled away from her.

I left my apartment and drove to pick up Mick's father with the scent of his daughter still on my face. We still hadn't discussed when, or if we would get together again. Mick was going to take a shower and then lock up my apartment before she left. She offered to strip the bed and change the sheets, but I assured her that I would take care of that when I got home from work.

There was a message from Mick on my answering machine when I got home after work. Apparently, she had wanted to see about her work schedule for the week before deciding on when she could come over to my apartment again. Her recording stated that she had worked with her manager and a couple of other cashiers to arrange to have Tuesday and Thursday evenings off. She had used Shirley Babashoff competing on those two days as her excuse for wanting the schedule changes.

On Tuesday, Shirley won a silver medal in the Women's 400-meter freestyle, the USA Men's basketball team beat Puerto Rico and Mick and I fucked two times. Shirley won another silver medal on Thursday, this time in the Women's 200-meter freestyle and we fucked three times that day since the USA's basketball game was forfeited by Egypt. Shirley won a third silver medal the following Sunday in the Women's 800-meter freestyle, but we only fucked once that day since I wanted to watch the USA win the gold medal in Men's basketball against Yugoslavia.

~~~

"And you wore a condom every time? How long did your sexual relationship with Ms. Pfeiffer continue?" asked the investigator.

"Yes, and just the one week and one day," I said. "Mick only came to my apartment one more time, and that was to pick up the one-thousand dollars I was giving her to pay for the procedure."

"According to Ms. Pfeiffer's statement, which yours appears to corroborate, you wore a condom every time that the two of you had sex," said the investigator in a doubting tone. "Did the two of you discuss the possible circumstances under which the procedure became necessary?"

I glared at the investigator wondering just how dense this asshole was. I finally curbed my contempt enough to answer his question, "It was a short discussion. The procedure was necessary because Mick was pregnant."

Heather interceded, "I believe what Glen is asking is whether you and Ms. Pfeiffer discussed what could have failed in the measures that you two had taken to prevent her from getting pregnant. Did you suspect that you had used a defective condom..."

I turned my attention to the publicist to answer her question, "We discussed it. I even took the time to demonstrate for Mick how I tested every condom before I put it on by blowing air into it to ensure that it was airtight without any holes. My high school football coach taught everyone on the team how to check their condoms, before and after sex. I am convinced, and Mick was convinced that a defective condom was not the cause."

"Yet you willingly accepted responsibility and agreed to pay for the procedure. Why?" Glen the investigator asked.

I directed my answer to Heather again even though she hadn't asked the question, "Three reasons. First, Mick told me that she had not been with anyone other than me, and based upon the reasons that she had sought me out as her first partner, namely me being someone that she could trust not to talk about it, I believed her. Secondly, the timing of Mick missing her period was too perfect for our having sex for it not to have been the culprit. Finally, because we finally came up with a possible cause that made sense to both of us."

"Can you share with us what the two of you came up with?" Heather asked.

I smiled at Heather and asked, "Have you ever been with a man who wasn't circumcised?"

Heather turned bright red and simply shook her head. I turned to the investigator, "Are you circumcised?"

"Sure," he said. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Foreskin," I explained. "The foreskin on an uncircumcised penis usually covers the head except when it is fully erect, and then there is likely to still be some foreskin loosely surrounding the head."

Their confused expressions amused me, so I continued to explain, "As I mentioned previously, Mick and I had sex three times on that Thursday. I wore a new condom each time, however, after the third time, Mick was still seeking a final release. I had already removed the condom that I had been wearing, but I hadn't yet cleaned myself when Mick decided to mount me to stimulate the orgasm that she said she was so close to. She was close. She came in less than a minute of grinding on top of me."

It was like a light came on in Heather's mind as she said, "There was probably some of your sperm under the loose foreskin. That's what you suspected, right?"

"It's the only thing that makes sense," I confirmed.

"Okay," Glen said. "You confirmed that you and Ms. Pfeifer had this short sexual relationship. You admit that her pregnancy was the result of this relationship. You also admit that you gave her the money for the procedure to terminate the pregnancy. Why are you now trying to profit from the story about her having had an abortion?"

The calmness of my reply surprised them. The fact is that I felt anything but calm at being accused of forsaking Mick for financial profit.

I said, "I haven't and I never would. I gave Mick the one-thousand dollars that she said that she needed for the procedure. I couldn't swear under oath that she even had the procedure because I knew nothing more about it; where it was done, when it was done, nothing. I trust that Mick had an abortion based upon things that she and I discussed years later, but she never shared any of the details with me."

"What did you discuss with Ms. Pfeiffer that convinces you that she had the abortion that you paid for?" Glen asked.

"I don't think that is relevant," I said. "It has nothing to do with the procedure itself."

"Why don't you let us decide that," Glen said.

Before I could reply, Heather interrupted what she sensed was going to be an unpleasant comment from me, "Ms. Pfeiffer does want you to answer all of our questions, doesn't she?"

I took a deep breath and focused once again on Heather rather than the asshole with her, "As you probably know, Mick tried for years to have children before finally choosing to adopt. She confided in me during this time that she harbored some guilt and concerns that the procedure she had might be the reason that she wasn't able to get pregnant. I encouraged her to discuss her concerns with her doctors, but she always felt too embarrassed about having had the abortion to discuss it with them. And as you can probably surmise, Mick eventually did overcome her embarrassment and got herself checked out. A simple outpatient procedure cleared up the situation and she eventually did get pregnant with her son."

"She ever mentioned the doctors that she saw to correct her problem?" Glen asked.

"She never mentioned them to me. There was no reason for her to do so."

"Mr. Gayner," Heather said, "I for one am confident that you would never do anything to hurt Ms. Pfeiffer. Based upon what you do know of the procedure and her penchant for keeping things secret, is there anyone that you would suspect of trying to profit from the story becoming public?"

I considered her question for several seconds before responding, "I would expect that very few people had first-hand knowledge of Mick's pregnancy. Based on conversations with members of her family around that time, I doubt that they even knew about it. I know that Mick had someone supporting her during the procedure because when I offered to drive her, she mentioned that she already had someone who would be going with her, but she didn't name names. I assume that you have checked out employees at the clinic or wherever she had the procedure performed?"

"The clinic shut down decades ago," Glen said. "There are few of the former employees that we have been able to identify, and all but two of those are deceased. The other two are residents in skilled nursing homes struggling with dementia. We're still digging through their relatives or others that an employee may have shared the details with, but we consider it unlikely that any of the employees would associate the abortion of a frightened teenage girl with a superstar such as Ms. Pfeiffer after all these years."

"The timing is curious," I agreed. "Why now?"

Heather answered, "We guess that the person held onto the secret until something happened in their lives that motivated them to break the confidence they had held all of these years. A sudden financial hardship, for example."

"Well, that's definitely not me then," I chuckled motioning around my house with my arm. "I sold my business two years ago for over fifteen million. I'm set for life."

Heather and Glen scanned their surroundings, each pausing as their gaze passed the large window with a view of the Pacific Ocean right outside.

"You know, there is one person that you may want to look into," I said. "Mick mentioned that she had been having some pretty intimate conversations with a lady at her work. These conversations are what prompted Mick to seek me out to take her virginity. I'm curious now if the friendship between Mick and Karen Hendrickson might have developed to the point where Karen was the support Mick had during the procedure."

Heather nodded and said to Glen, "We need to check with Ms. Pfeiffer on that. She never mentioned anyone by the name of Karen as someone knowledgeable of the procedure, but what Mr. Gayner says makes sense."

"There's one other possibility that I can think of," I offered. "Right after Mick started her acting classes, she got involved with this cult run by a charismatic couple up in LA. I know that they took almost complete control of her life for a period of time, stealing a significant amount of money from her before she was able to break the hold that they had on her. I never knew their names, but they seem like the kind of people to take advantage of the information if they were privy to it."

Glen stood and Heather did the same. I escorted them towards the front door, but Heather paused to examine a framed photo on a table in my foyer. It was a photo of Mick being crowned when she had won the Miss Orange County beauty pageant. Draped inside the frame was a silver ball chain with a key on it.

"You know that she has always loved you, right?" Heather softly asked.

"I've never doubted it for a second," I said.