This story is based on some of the sexual events of my life when I was in graduate school back in 1971-73. I was attending a college in rural Mississippi, working on a master's degree in physics.
Charlotte, Megan's little sister was fast becoming a distant memory. Still, despite the loss, it had buoyed up my self-image. It had been the most sexually fantastic six hours of my life! It was only a week or two later that Bruce, who was also a member of the "freak community", and a fellow member of the campus newspaper staff, came up to me and said, "Hey, my little sister is visiting for two weeks, and she is a royal pain in the ass. I heard that you babysat Megan's sister. Can you take mine off my hands for a day or two? I'll pay you. Please?"
Now having a better idea of the possibilities, I cheerfully agreed. Of course, I kept reminding myself that there was no guarantee of future success. But hope burns eternal...
And then Bruce stepped in closer and put a finger on my chest.
"Listen up! I heard rumors you fooled around with Megan's sister. Don't even THINK about touching my sister! You hear? I find out you messed with her, I'll kill you!"
Well. That was certainly promising, wasn't it?
Bruce's younger sister was Heather, age sixteen. She had short, copper red hair and freckles. She was petite, stood about five feet two, and had nice gentle curves. Okay, she wasn't gorgeous or sexy, but she was definitely cute in a tomboy kind of way. And I detected right off that she was anything but stupid.
Things did not get off to a good start. She was obviously disappointed that her brother had foisted her off on me, a total stranger. Her lip turned up in disgust when she saw her brother give me fifteen bucks and a clap on the back. He turned and gave his sister a perfunctory wave, then trotted off.
She growled, "so you're my paid guardian, hunh? I'm not impressed."
She wasn't impressed by anything! I tried the campus tour, I tried the rose gardens, I tried the Big Boy restaurant, but nothing sparked any interest in her. It wasn't until I (finally!) got her talking about herself that she became animated at all. She was striving to be school valedictorian, and currently had the top grades in the tenth grade. She was in the Science Club, the Math Club, and played first-chair-first flute in the high school orchestra.
So I told her about my studies in physics. When I mentioned my master's thesis, she got positively titillated. My graduate advisor had somehow managed to get a grant from NASA to study cosmic ray sputters in a block of photographic emulsion that had been taped inside the escape hatch of Apollo 13. I kid you not. She wanted to see it! Now!
So I drove her to the physics building and showed her my stereo microscope. I put a thin sheet of emulsion on the microscope stage, and showed her some sputters, tiny conical "holes" where atomic nuclei had slammed into the emulsion at nearly the speed of light. By the time we left, it was dusk, and Heather was absolutely giddy. She even let me hold her hand as we walked back to my car.
She wasn't hungry but I was, so I asked her if we could run to my apartment for some food. She nodded and said Okay.
"But you're not thinking of getting in my pants, are you? The last guy who succeeded, got his face caved in by my brother."
Hmmm. So, she was NOT a virgin, and it WAS possible to get in her pants. But not likely. I thought about Bruce. Not bloody likely at all.
My cheap, shabby apartment: I pulled some leftovers from the small fridge while Heather read over the titles of my textbooks and sci-fi novels. I put a foil-covered plate on the tiny table. Heather asked what it was. I hesitated.
"Er... it's brownies. ELECTRIC brownies. You may not want to eat... ahh... okay."
She had already tossed one into her mouth.
"Electric? Like, there's weed in them?" I nodded. "Super! I smoked it once, and it was all right. Felt nice. But I've always wanted to try it baked in brownies. These taste great! How many should I eat? I just wanna see what it's like, not get totally wasted or anything."
She picked up a second brownie.
"Well, I think one would be enough. Uh. Okay, two. But I wouldn't eat any more than that. Really."
I finished off my leftover potato salad and a chicken leg, then had two of the brownies for "dessert". She sat on one of the two chairs, I on the other, and we continued our discussions. We were having a pretty good time after all. She loved my sci-fi collection and I let her borrow the latest Larry Niven novel. Then I thought to ask about when she needed to be back at the dorm.
"Oh, it doesn't matter. I had my roommate agree to cover for me. I can go in before curfew, or stay out all night if I want to." She gave me a wry little grin. "But if you can't come up with something really interesting to do tonight, I'll probably just go back to the dorm."
I cleaned up the table while Heather returned to my bookshelf.
She asked, "Hey, what is this? A Primer For Star-Gazers?"
I poked my head out of the kitchenette, and glanced at the book in her hands.
"That was the book I learned astronomy from -- star gazing. It shows exactly where in the sky the constellations are at any particular time, on any date. I've just about memorized it by now."
"Oh, wow! Astronomy! I live in Jackson, and you can't see more than a dozen stars at a time from there. All the city lights, you know?"
"Well, we could go star-gazing tonight. It's supposed to be clear, and there's no Moon showing until almost sunrise. I guarantee you can see over a thousand stars at the same time. I can even teach you some of their names. Wanna try?"
She flipped some pages and said, "Yeah! I've never really seen the stars before."
In ten minutes, I had us some snacks and a blanket in a basket -- along with the book and a flashlight I had modified for doing back-yard astronomy. We got into the car and I headed for the university's practice baseball field. Which was also the favorite "parking" site for young lovers. But I didn't tell her that.
As I turned onto the main road, I felt the weed began to take effect. I never knew about electric brownies. Sometimes they were potent, sometimes a fizzle. But I didn't like to smoke at all, so brownies were my first choice.
I drove past the last pole light on Baseball Lane, and turned my headlights off, leaving only the parking lights on. Didn't want to piss off anyone who might already be parked. Another hundred yards and we ran out of gravel road. There were half a dozen vehicles parked already.
I got the flashlight, and picked us a path between the trees and out onto the practice field. There were no artificial lights visible at all. The flashlight was mostly obscured with a thick piece of cardboard -- only a tiny pencil of light led the way. But without it, there was NO light at all. It was pitch black. I found a clean spot of grass and laid out the blanket.
Soon, Heather and I were laying on our backs looking upward into the infinite depths of an incredible star-filled sky. I turned the flashlight off and noticed with satisfaction that I could not even see my hand in front of my face. We could see NOTHING but the stars. ALL the stars. As our eyes adapted, the Milky Way brightened and burned and the number of stars became uncountable.
I found Heather's hand and held it. I heard her whisper, "Oh god, it's so beautiful. I had no idea there were this many stars. I feel like I'm floating up among the stars, like I'm speeding through the universe at some incredible speed. Oh god, hold my hand..."
I was beginning to feel the same. The brownies were indeed coming on nicely, but not too strong. The rush was something like riding a local county-fair roller-coaster. The eyes focused so much clearer. The patterns of stars were fascinating. The feeling of gravity against my back disappeared. I looked up at the blazing Milky Way, and I was OUT THERE... And I knew that Heather was too.
Every few seconds, she would gasp quietly and squeeze my hand. I squeezed back. She moaned long and low.
After maybe fifteen minutes, she slipped her hand away. There were rustling noises beside me and I saw her black silhouette against the star field. Then she lay down. It wasn't long before I heard her moaning again. A different kind of moan, regular, insistent, almost desperate in its intensity. It soon became clear that something horny was going on.
I rolled toward her and put my arm gently around her waist. She was naked!
"Hey! Uhhh... Heather? What's going on?"
"God... the stars are... so beautiful!... I never dreamed... that they... oh my god... it makes me... so horny!... I've just... please forgive me... got to masturbate... oh shit, I never dreamed..."
I let my hand wander down her bare flat tummy, encountered her wrist, followed her fingers down to her bare, fuzzy, and very wet pussy! Omigod, she really was masturbating! She had taken off every stitch of clothing.
I whispered intensely, "Here, let me handle the wet works. Open your thighs some more. Great. You focus on the stars!"
If I had learned anything from Charlotte, it was how to finger a desperately hot pussy. I had no idea why the stars should make her horny, but I wasn't about to ignore the opportunity. Soon, I had two fingers in her tight pussy, and she was moaning louder and faster. I briefly tried to kiss her breast, only to find that her fingers were very busy twirling her nipples.
So I focused on her genitals. The deeper I probed, the wider apart her thighs spread and the more her pelvis rolled and humped. Her moans were now quite audible, punctuated by mutterings, like, "...oh Jesus... so beautiful... I want... faster... yes, right there... don't stop... don't stop..."
As my poor fingers got tired, the rich and lovely aroma of her pussy wafted to my nostrils.