9 comments/ 13527 views/ 5 favorites 1974 with a Hippie Chick By: ReedRichards Even though the University of Kentucky didn't have a physical education requirement at the time, and PE courses did not count toward your grade point average -- thanks to the sunken-chested, pencil-necked, long-haired male wimps that passed for hippies in the early 1970s -- as a full-time student I could take a PE course without any extra charges, so I signed up for a swimming class for 8:00 AM on Tuesdays and Thursdays. It was fun in the winter, when I had to be at my next class at 9:30 AM, with a particularly old-style history professor (he wore a nice suit to class every day, and would have been quite happy teaching in a German university!), to arrive with ice in my beard! It was in that coed swimming class that I met Sal. I wasn't desperate by any means, as I was already living with a fairly cute girl in an apartment off of Rose Street, and Sal was the kind of girl I never thought I'd be attracted to. She was a real hippie chick, short, decent but not spectacular figure -- about a size 10, I'd guess -- with frizzy hair and a years'-long aversion to razors: she had hairy legs and pits. But attracted I was, and majorly so. Even now, I couldn't tell you why, but I was just heels-over-head (if you think about it, head-over-heels just means standing up normally!) over this girl, and did my best to get to see her outside of swimming class. She was a theater arts major, and, in true hippie-chick style, usually wore long skirts and peasant blouse tops, and if the weather was warm enough, she went barefoot. What did didn't wear was underwear, neither a bra nor panties. To be honest, I was a complete wreck over this girl. Other than swimming class, our lives didn't intersect at all, but I wanted to change that. So, I managed to be coming out of the gym at the same time she did, very deliberately. Since we (obviously) used different locker rooms -- and yes, I did have fantasies about her changing in the men's locker room, and throwing herself on me -- I had to try to guess how long it would take her to emerge from hers, without it being so obvious that I was waiting for her, and would walk with her to her next class. Her next class was along the same route as mine, fortunately, so I was able to chat with her a bit. It took some doing, but I managed to work my way into her circle of second-closest friends, and got to go to her apartment (a long walk away, through and past downtown Lexington, and up Broadway), one she shared with her sister Sarah and some hippie guy who wasn't the boyfriend of either one. It was a large apartment in a converted house which had seen better days. Heck, it had seen better decades, to tell the truth, and was pretty much on the run-down, student-slums side, with ratty furniture and a terrible kitchen, but it had Sal in it, which was all that mattered to me. Trouble is, I was being solidly friend-zoned, when I wanted nothing more than to get into her non-existent panties. She had even talked about swimming topless with her friends -- drat! I wasn't in that party! -- on the river, when she was busily looking for a bikini top to go swimming with her family. I said, just go topless again, but she said that no, she wasn't going to do that in front of her father. Still friend-zoned, I still didn't get lucky that day. Finally, one day she and I and three of her other friends, all girls, were sitting in her apartment talking about something meaningless enough that I can't remember what it was. But, whatever the topic was, somehow it led to her referring to something as "pussy-pink." "What color is 'pussy-pink'?" I asked. "You're living with a girl, you ought to know." "Could be many variations." And so Sal pulled up her long skirt and flashed me, and said, "This is pussy-pink." The other girls laughed, and I wondered, as I had a couple of times before, if those girls didn't get a lot of close-up views, as in tongue-length away views, of pussy-pink. "I might need a closer look," I said a bit more confidently than I felt; I had some real butterflies in my stomach at this point. "Just how close a look do you need?" Sal was sitting in an old armchair, and I had been sitting on the floor near her, so I leaned forward and kissed her ankle, and then started kissing a little bit higher, up to the hem of her skirt, which was about mid-calf when she was seated. It must've been the right move, because she slowly pulled the hem up to just below her knees, and I kept slowly kissing her hairy legs up further and further. I knew that I had an audience, because the other girls were (sort of) cheering me on, and Sal pulled her skirt a bit higher yet. I was now at mid-thigh and she had definitely spread her legs wide enough, but she stopped raising her skirt any further. Should I stop? Had she set a limit? Well, maybe I should have, but I didn't, and I put my hands on the outside of both of her thighs and slowly started pushing her skirt higher. The room started getting quieter, and as much of a glance as I could make showed me that two of the other girls were kissing, and I think that the third one had her hand down her pants. Sal wasn't saying a word, but I could feel the tension in her thighs; there was definitely no stop sign coming from her. A little bit further north, and I was kissing her pussy, gently, on the outside at first, and she was already soaking wet. I parted the lips with my tongue, and she started to gasp. Adding my hands to the play, on her outer thighs, and then, sliding my right hand under her butt and squeezing, got her to put her hands on my head and push me against her harder; it wasn't thirty seconds later, and she was coming and coming and coming. It seemed like one long, drawn out orgasm rather than multiple ones, and I kept doing my very pleasurable duty for just as long as she was holding my head down. I vaguely heard some gasps and cries from the other three girls as they were getting their own freak on, and finally Sal released the pressure on my head, as she was coming down from her orgasmic high. I stood up, and pulled off my jeans as fast as I could. I don't know if Sal thought that she'd have to give me head as I had done for her, but my cock didn't need any help; it was hard and sticking straight out as soon as it was released. Sal had scooted forward in the armchair as I was eating her, and I had to couch down a bit to enter her. It wasn't the best of positions for me -- which might have helped, actually -- because I had to make a real effort to fuck Sal in that position, and not have us slide off the chair onto the floor. It was immediately obvious that Sal wasn't a virgin, but she was clearly not too terribly experienced with men; her movements were a bit awkward, but she wrapped her legs around my butt (requiring even more effort on my part to keep us from falling out of the chair), and was gasping/ grunting hard, and she started coming again and again. The extra effort of not falling down had the great side effect of keeping me from shooting my wad too soon, but finally I just had to change positions. I pulled out, got on my feet, and pulled Sal out of the now-soaked fabric armchair. She pulled off her blouse over her head and pulled her skirt down and off -- it had an elastic waistband, good for quick removal! -- while I laid down on the (not all that clean) carpet and motioned for her to get on top of me. She straddled me on her knees and sank down on my cock. Whether she had ever tried this position before I didn't know, but she figured out what to do on the spot, and was riding me hard. With the pressure of keeping us from falling gone, I could feel my own cum getting close, but held off again when Sal started coming again. It didn't seem quite as intense as the last time, but it still seemed like she loved it. As she came down from that high, she gasped, "You can't cum inside me; I'm not on the pill. Are you getting close?" "Any second now!" She pulled off of me, and went south, and took my cock in her mouth to finish me off. I don't know if she had ever given head to a guy before, and I was so close that I don't really know if she was doing a good job or not, but within five seconds I was cumming in her waiting mouth. To her credit, she didn't stop sucking me until I was done and coming down. There was a sticky mess on my pubes, but she grinned and said, "I think I swallowed some of it." All that I could say was, "You were wonderful!" Sal smiled, and if she didn't compliment my performance with words, she certainly did with her eyes and her smile. We sat back down and started cuddling and kissing. The other girls? They were all naked by now, and whatever they had been doing they were done with; they all looked pretty happy, but I had been concentrating so much on Sal that I never really saw what they were doing. _________________________ We hung around for a while longer, me with four naked girls, laughing and having fun. I was ready to start again, but Sal just kissed me and said, "You'd better take that one home to your girlfriend. I can see now why she moved in with you." Sal sent me on my way, really happy, but I never got to fuck her again.