It was 1990, and I had been at my company for about a month when I discovered email. I finally got my own computer and a 286 at that. This was pre-Windows days but it came with a GUI interface and was connected, not to the Internet (that had been invented but was not yet a widespread phenomenon) but to a popular service provider. There was an email program as part of the GUI, and very soon I learned how to use it and emailed many people around the company, who like me were getting their own 286 computers.
But emailing my coworkers soon became not too sexy, and I then discovered I could email people all around the country. I also discovered how you could search for email addresses. It was pretty primitive; it would only show an address and not where it was, or any details about the person (that would come much later). Sometimes, however, you could tell where a person was by the email address, but not often. Plus it seemed that few people I knew from college had email accounts yet.
I went through my list of college buddies pretty quickly, and started to think of others who I had known but not too well. Suddenly Amy George's name sprang to mind. Amy had been in some of my classes. She was small, had kind of an odd face, but was otherwise very good looking, with a slender and excellent body. She had been important in her sorority, however, and I always considered her out of my league.
Anyway, I gave it a shot and up came an email address of amy.george@nycompany.com. Well, this was the first 'hit' I had gotten in all my searches. After some hesitation, I finally concocted a short email and sent it off to the address.
Hello – is this the Amy George who went to Eastern State 3 years ago? If it isn't, then please read no further. If it is, though, this is Lance and I just wanted to say Hi through this new and exciting medium – Lance
To my surprise, no more than about twenty minutes later I received a reply.
Hi Lance – how great to hear from you! I never expected to hear from an old friend on email. I mostly just get orders and complaints. So where are you located? – Amy
Hi Amy – I'm in Southern California. I work at Lockheed building satellites. How about you? – Lance
Lance – Wow California! You must spend a lot of time at the beach. That really sounds exciting. Much more than upstate New York – pretty dull here. - Amy
Over the next few weeks, we went back and forth several times. The exchanges didn't lag and kept getting longer and more involved. Part of it was the medium, I'm sure (the same thing that fascinates people today about social media) but Amy seemed genuinely interested. Actually, what she was interested in was where I lived. Much of her emails were inquiries about where I had been, what the beaches were like, etc. She wrote a couple of times how she would like to see the area. Finally, not knowing what else to do, I suggested she come and visit.
Lance – That would be awesome! How about you call me tonight and we'll discuss. My home phone is… - Amy
So I called her that evening. We talked for over an hour and a half. In reality, Amy mostly talked for an hour and a half while I listened. It turned out Amy had gotten a job in upstate New York in supply chain management. She hated her job and upstate in general. She had been engaged to a frat boy from college, with the understanding he would join her and they would get married after he graduated. Instead, he had taken up with a tall blonde girl with a rich father, leaving Amy alone and kind of friendless in a pretty empty part of the country. It turns out my email had come at an opportune time.
She suggested she fly out that weekend, and I readily agreed. The following Friday I picked Amy up at the airport. If anything she looked even better than I had remembered, for she had let her hair grow out and had obviously been working out. She gave me a peck on the cheek at the gate, and as we walked to my car went on and on about how she had picked up a tour book and was so excited to see several places. I listened with some irritation at how she was still obviously more interested in the location than me but bemused at how cute she was talking so excitedly.
We had left it open about where Amy would stay. Since Amy was here for sightseeing I didn't want to presume she would stay with me, so just in case I had made a reservation at a hotel not far from my apartment. As I drove from the airport I made a casual remark about how I had hired a service to clean my apartment, which I hadn't done in a few weeks.
"Oh, you didn't have to do that for me," Amy said, with a hint of mischief in her voice.
"I don't often have guests," I replied. Amy chuckled, and I took that to mean she would be staying with me. I was glad but also a bit unsure. I would be that way through Amy's entire visit.
I took her to a small seafood restaurant that overlooked the water. I thought that would make it feel less 'date-like' but at the same time give Amy a glimpse of local color. It worked like a charm – Amy was thrilled with the view and relaxed almost immediately. After we ate she produced the tour guide from her purse and we spent the next hour discussing her itinerary.
"How long were you planning on staying?" I asked.
"Oh, the whole week, if that's OK," she said, "my return flight isn't until next Friday."
Wow, I thought, that was more than I expected. I had put in for vacation only through Tuesday, figuring on at most a long weekend. But I flashed through my mind what I had going on that week, and figured I could pass on most of it.
That first evening when we arrived at my apartment Amy said she was exhausted and wanted to just get some sleep. I set her up in my bedroom and prepared the couch for me. Amy took a shower first and I'm not ashamed to admit I masturbated on the couch while she showered. She emerged wearing some sweats, said good night, and closed the door into my bedroom.
The first day we spent at the beach. We went near the pier since there's more 'action' there. On the way there she confided that she didn't bring any swimwear, since it's not something used much in upstate New York. I suggested we go to one of the many beach stores selling swimwear near the pier, which she readily accepted.
We went into one store, and being fairly early in the morning it was pretty empty, so Amy had a saleswoman all to herself. We spent over an hour in there while Amy tried on swimsuit after swimsuit and boy, it was l could do to keep from drooling as she modeled one skimpy bikini after another. The bottoms of one of them showed a lot of anatomy, and I confirmed that Amy had bikini waxed before coming here. Also, I appreciated that her breasts weren't overly small; they were, in fact, medium-sized with sizeable nipples (also apparent through the tops of the various swimsuits).
She finally chose a floral-print string affair and a black model. Both suits barely covered her magnificent ass, and Amy would spend the times wearing both pulling the bottoms over her ass, with little success.
We spent the day mainly lying about the beach, watching the crowds, and dipping in the ocean now and then. It was then we began to get closer, as Amy asked me several times to apply suntan lotion to her back. Also, when we were ready to leave we showed off at a shower stand before leaving, and Amy rubbed her hands all over my back while laughing.
We had dinner in our bathing suits at a quite nice restaurant just off the pier. Afterward, I was going to suggest we go for a stroll on the beach, but instead, Amy suggested we go back to my apartment.
We entered and Amy rushed past me when I opened the door. I went over and put our things on my kitchen table, and returned to the living room. While I was doing this Amy had quickly slipped off her bikini and was standing there, quite nude.
Boy, I've said several times you can page through as many issues of Playboy and Penthouse as you want, but there's nothing like a real-life, beautiful woman standing nude in front of you. My throat made a kind of gurgle sound, and I stood mesmerized while Amy laughed.
"If I'm going to be here a week we need to break the sexual tension," she said, "I find you attractive and would like to have sex with you this week if that's OK."
OK? Was she kidding? But I played it cool, saying, "That would be great, Amy. I've always thought you were very beautiful but kind of out of my league. This is like some sort of dream come true."
She smiled and I went over and took her in my arms. Embracing a nude woman for the first time is exquisite. She turned her head up and we shared a long, deep kiss, and then another one.
"I need to tell you one thing," she said, "I don't like missionary sex, it makes me feel trapped. But there are lots of other ways to have sex, you know."
I nodded my head, and on an impulse, I picked her up. She squealed and said, "Whaaat?", but then giggled as I carried her into the bedroom. I placed her on the bed and quickly shucked out of my swim shorts and t-shirt, and laid down next to her. We embraced and kissed as I ran my hand over her magnificent ass.
Amy rolled off, smiled, and began stroking my member. She had soft and very skillful fingers, and I enjoyed her stroking for a good five minutes. Finally, she stopped and chuckled.
"I wanted to make sure you're not one of those premature ejaculators," she said, chuckling, "not really. Would you touch my sex?"
I started to get the feeling this was some sort of test, with Amy trying to ascertain my sexual talents. Well, anyway, I knew my way around lady town and smoothly began rubbing her swollen labia, making sure to not rub too hard and rotating my hand frequently. She squealed softly and began breathing hard, obviously enjoying the process. I then gently placed my finger between her inner lips, plunging deep to get at the moisture hidden beneath, and swishing it back and forth, occasionally brushing her clit without stampeding pell-mell for it.
"Oh boy, that is excellent," she said finally, "But let's have intercourse now".
Amy got up and began to straddle me when I said, "I'd better put a condom on."
"We can use one later, but we don't need one for birth control," she said, "I had an IUD implanted before I left. Can't be too careful, you know."
That was fine with me. I had little time to dwell on it, though, before Amy grabbed my member, and quite smoothly lowered her warm and soaking vagina over it.
I mmm'd a long time, for she felt so velvety soft, and seemed to engulf my member with paradise. She didn't start up-and-down right away, but instead took my whole member in and turned her body back-and-forth for several minutes, which is just mind-blowing. Since she wasn't moving yet I reached up and began embracing her breasts, which brought deep breaths of satisfaction from Amy.
After several minutes she said, "OK, let's begin" and put her hands on her thighs and began almost straight vertical intercourse. Amy must have worked out because she kept this up for almost five minutes, before she leaned forward, put both arms on my chest, and moved her ass up and down. She began a soft squeal with every thrust, which built-in loudness as her thrusts became closer together. Finally, she went vertical again and started rotating as before.
"Don't be scared," she gasped, and let out some loud shrieks while holding her breasts with both hands. It was one of the loudest orgasms I had ever seen and must have gone on for thirty seconds or so. When she finished she fell forward and began intercourse once more while that old feeling crept up my spine. I started grunting softly with each thrust.