Fun On The Trampoline
My sister and I live on adjoining one-acre lots in a sparsely mature models populated development way out in the country. Between our houses is an area with a picnic table, an old fashioned swing hanging from a huge oak tree, a couple of barbecue pits and off just a little way from the rest, a trampoline. All of our kids are young adults now so the trampoline seldom gets used for anything other than a place for a private conversation or a place to lay out and catch some sun. But one night last summer it became a place of unexpected pleasure for me.
Most of my family had come out to one of the local watering holes to listen to me and my band. It had been a great gig with a loud, appreciative crowd that danced all night and tipped well. I was in a great mood when we finally wrapped up and got everything loaded and when I got home I was pleased to see that my nephew and a gal he'd brought home from the club and my oldest niece and her best friend were still up and laying around on the trampoline talking and drinking. I grabbed a cold beer out of the ice chest sitting on the ground and jumped up and joined them.
I don't drink when I perform so I had to do a little catching up and as I opened my third beer I began to realize that Sherry, my niece's friend was royally pissed about something. This really wasn't an unusual occurrence. Sherry had been a bit of a drama queen the whole time that I'd known her. She's a sweet gal but just never seems to fully grasp the concept of happiness. She's always having boy trouble or parent trouble or work trouble and quite frankly, we've all just learned how to tune her out when she's ranting about some real or perceived problem.
Well, this evening's problem revolved around what an asshole some boy was and how one night he was all lovey-dovey and wanting to hang out and make out and get into her britches and how the next night the same boy wouldn't pay any attention to her and how she didn't understand why boys treated her that way. I made some soothing comment or another and she quieted down for a while. At about the same time my niece Christy said that she had to get up early, told everyone goodnight and left.
When Christy left Sherry scooted over next to me and put her arm through mine and sort of snuggled up to me. Now, I may be in my fifties but having a pretty girl grab my arm and push a very nice, very firm twenty one year old breast under my arm is just as much fun now as it was when I was eighteen. She said, "You know what I want to do? I want to get real drunk."
I said, "Well, all right. Do you want another beer?"
She answered, "No, what else is there?" I thought for a second and told her that I had a nearly full bottle of Parrot Bay Rum in the freezer but that I didn't think I had any cokes to mix it with. She said, "No problem. We'll just drink it right from the bottle." Seemed like as good an idea as any I could come up with so I told her that I'd be right back and left to get the rum.
When I got back to the trampoline the girls were gone and it was just my nephew sitting there. He sorta chuckled and said, "You know why she's pissed don't you?" I didn't and told him so. "I boned her last night and now she's mad because I'm not with her tonight. I told her before we left for the club that we weren't going to be together. She mature models just wasn't listening."
My nephew is twenty-four, three years older than Sherry and they've all known each other since grade school. Sherry's always had a big crush on Michael but I didn't realize that they'd ever gone to bed together until then. It did explain her attitude that night. "Well," I asked, "where'd the girls go?" He said that they had gone to go pee and get some blankets. This was an August night in South Texas so I wasn't real sure why we'd need blankets but I learned a long time ago not to question why women do certain things.
When they got back and settled down Sherry and I started taking long pulls on the bottle and before long we both had a pretty good buzz runnin'. Michael and his lady were on the opposite side of the trampoline under their blanket and it was obvious that they were making out pretty heavily. I had been sitting cross-legged for quite a while and was starting to get uncomfortable so I unfolded, made a couple of old man noises and stretched out laying on my back and checking out the millions of stars that you can only see when you live out in the country away from the city lights.
Sherry stretched out beside me and our combined weight sort of pushed us together. It was very comfortable and nice having a young lady lying next to me and making contact from shoulder to foot. I put both hands behind my head and just as natural as you please Sherry laid her head up on my chest and snuggled even closer.
In a voice so low that I could barely understand her Sherry asked, "Why do guys treat me like they do? It's like they don't respect me at all and they just walk all over me and I get so tired of it."
Her question really made me think. We have a saying in our family: "Don't ask if you really don't want to know." If she really wanted to know I'd tell her but I'd have to choose my words carefully.
Sherry hadn't had much of a family life while she was growing up. Her dad was a successful contractor with a real fondness for booze and coke. Her mother was a controlling little harpy with the same bad habits and a quick temper. I don't think they ever did one single thing to make her feel good about herself. Quite often when she was in her mature models mid-teens she would come home from school and find a note taped to the front door telling her that her folks had gone to Vegas for a few days and that they'd see her when they got back. Subsequently she spent a lot of time at my sister's house and more or less became a real part of our family.
Sherry is a beautiful girl. She matured physically fairly young but never dressed to flaunt it. She was a gifted athlete in high school and played varsity volleyball from the time she was a Freshman. She's tall, 5'10" or maybe a little better with dark green eyes and beautiful dark brown hair. She has broad shoulders for a woman and hips that my dad would have said were meant for having babies. I always suspected that her breasts were larger than they appeared. It always seemed to me that she wore bras that were a size too small to keep them from bouncing around.
Sherry was always in need of nurturing and would often sit in my lap for a quick hug or snuggle up beside me when we were all sitting around watching TV. None of this was ever taken out of context nor did anyone in the family ever think too much about it. People need physical contact and she sure wasn't getting any at home. And she didn't really single me out. She was affectionate with everyone. But the bottom line was that I knew she had a pretty low self esteem and my experience in life has taught me that many people like Sherry let men walk all over them because they don't think they deserve any better.
So in a whisper I began talking to her. I asked her some questions that would lead us to the point where I could tell her that as soon as she started liking and respecting herself and demanding that the men in her life treat her with respect they would. I was only telling her things that her father should have told her years ago and I sincerely hoped that she would take some portion of what I was saying to heart and that maybe she'd make some changes that would help her find a little happiness.
Sherry was very still for a moment and then without saying anything she got off the trampoline and walked into my sister's house and I thought that maybe I had been too honest and had really upset her. I sat up and took a good pull on the bottle and looked over where Michael and his gal were. As far as I could tell they had both fallen asleep. Then I lay back down and just let my mind drift for a while.
In a few minutes Sherry came back out and jumped up on the trampoline. She grabbed the bottle and took a shot and then grabbed the blanket and spread it over both of us and laid back down with her back to me. Her head was on my left arm and her butt was pressing against my hip. And then while I was waiting for her to say something she reached behind her, placed her hand on my right hip and tugged. It was pretty obvious that she wanted me to roll over into the classic spooning position so I did. She snuggled back into me and let out a contented sigh.
Believe me, I was fully enjoying having a young sexy gal in this position but I still wasn't thinking of acting on the circumstances or taking advantage of her. I soon found out that the decision had already been made. In a move that was so natural that I didn't even give it any thought my right hand ended up on her right hip. It took me a second to realize that she had changed from the tight fitting pair of blue jean shorts to a baggy pair of shorts made from sweat suit material.
It suddenly dawned on me that Sherry was crying. I could feel her shaking just a little and hear her quietly sniffling. I whispered words of comfort until I could tell that she had quieted down. When I asked her what was wrong she turned her head and whispered that she knew that I was right about what I had said and that she loved me for being so honest with her. She said that all she'd ever gotten from anyone else that she'd asked that of was that bullshit about, "You just haven't found the right mature models guy yet". She said that she always knew that there was more to it than that but just didn't know what it was.
Then she did the last thing in the world a man way past middle age would expect a pretty twenty one year old girl to do. She took my hand off of her hip and placed it directly on her left breast. I lay very still for a second, in a little bit of shock I suppose, until she pressed my hand harder and moved it around a bit which I took as an invitation.
Very slowly and gently I began to caress and explore. When she had gone into the house she not only changed shorts, she had also removed her bra and except for the thin cotton t-shirt there was nothing between her and me. I placed my hand on her rib cage just below the left one and slid it up until I was lifting and weighing it. I avoided the nipple and just marveled at the firm, heavy feel. I then moved my hand up to the area above her breast and moved it down smoothing the t-shirt as I went. I could feel that wonderful slope at the top and this time let my palm linger on her nipple as I made my way back down to the lower part and I could feel it harden slightly.
After repeating these motions a few times and getting a couple of quiet, appreciative moans from Sherry I zeroed in on the nipple. At first I just circled around it with my fingertip and felt the aureole begin to stiffen. Then I gently grasped the nipple itself between my thumb and forefinger and began to lightly tug and pinch it. I remember this silly feeling of pride coming over me when her nipple grew as hard as any I have ever played with.
By this time Sherry was beginning to squirm some and press her ass back into my crotch. Now, despite what some story writers will try to make you believe men my age do not automatically sprout monstrous diamond cutting blue veiners at the first thought of hot, steamy sex but I did have the beginnings of a respectable hard-on growing in my jeans and having her push back into me was extremely pleasurable. So I removed my hand from her breasts and grabbed her hip again and pulled her tight against me and ground my crotch into her ass for a minute or two.
As I slid my hand back up I ran it under her t-shirt and went for the other breast. The feeling of her bare skin on my palm and fingertips was absolutely electric. It was so soft and silky and ever so slightly damp from the heat and immensely satisfying to the touch. She evidently enjoyed the skin to skin feeling as well. This time she not only ground her ass into my crotch but also reached back and began rubbing my hip and ass with her right hand and pulling me into her with some pressure.
I won't say that I never had any little fantasies about Sherry while she was growing up because I did. But in my wildest dreams I would have never imagined that I'd ever experience first hand just how passionate she was. When I started lightly pinching and pulling her right nipple her body stiffened and she drew in a deep breath and held it for a few seconds and then let it out, shuddering in what could have been a small orgasm. It was incredibly sexy and again I felt a sense of accomplishment.
At this point there was nothing I wanted more than to kiss and lick and suck her breasts. Her nipples were just begging for more attention but when I tried to turn her toward me so that I could get to them she said, "No, I don't want them to see." I had completely forgotten about my nephew and his lady. I was so lost in the sensations of exploring Sherry's body that they had slipped completely from my mind and at this point I really wouldn't have cared if they watched. But I also didn't want to take the chance of her turning off and depriving me of the fun that I hoped would follow.
When I was a young man just beginning to explore the world of sex I always took things very, very slowly with a new girl. Partially because I didn't really know what to do, partially because I truly loved exploring every square inch of newly discovered skin but mostly because I was afraid that at any moment I would do something to scare her off and she would say no. Those early instincts seem to have served me well over the years and I really hoped that the slow approach would serve me well this night.