Hay Rides at Halloween Without the Costume...

Now, on to the hay ride! By Halloween, Karen had "broken up" with her out of state boyfriend and we had started to "like" each other. Mrs. Hanson had been true to her word and had tutored both Karen and myself with our sophomore German class and we were both doing great with our conjugated verbs and adverbs as we started to conjugate other body parts, both at her house after school and in my garage in the backseat of my father's car. We had not gone further that kissing and some over-clothes breast-rubbing, but on many occasions, I had shot a load of cum inside my pants as we panted and sucked each other's faces. Karen and I had both joined social Tri-Hi-Y and Hi-Y girls and boys clubs at the local YMCA. At Halloween, they had planned a boy-girl hay ride through the local forest preserves. Karen and I had signed up and now as we waited at the YMCA for the bus to take us to the stable we both seemed excited with the possibilities. The bus came and took us, along with the other six couples who were going on the ride, to where we were going to meet the hay wagon. When the covered hay wagon pulled up, we all climbed into the hay bed and each couple was able to "pick a spot" where we could settle into the sweet-smelling hay. In those days, girls never wore pants, and Karen had worn a long skirt that was called a "granny" dress. As soon as all were "aboard", we started out on the two-hour ride through what were sure to be "unseen" trails. We had a warm quilt that Karen had brought from her home and I immediately felt a rush of blood to my penis as I realized that it was the same quilt that had been covering her mother's bed when I had jacked-off watching her mother undress from my vantage through the peep hole at her house. As we lay back in the hay, Karen reached under her granny skirt and pulled her panties down her legs and over her white socks and black and white saddle shoes. Oh, what a night we were in for! I could hardly keep my pecker in my pants as I watched her fold her panties and put them into her purse. By now, pre-cum was seeping from my pee-hole and I could feel my jockeys getting damp. I didn't have to wait long to begin to get some relief as I felt Karen's hand move to my belt and begin to unbuckle the belt and unsnap my Levi jeans. Now, as I helped Karen pull my pants down around my knees, we began to kiss and move our semi-experienced hands to each others genital areas. I was quickly moving my hand to push Karen's skirt into a bunch around her waist and began to enjoy the wet love nest that surrounded her pussy slit. As I eagerly explored her pussy lips and the wet opening of her cunt, I felt her grab my now fully erect dick and begin to jack it in the same up and down stroking manner that it was so accustomed to from my own hands. My fingers entered my second cunt, but this one was not wet from the warm water of a lake, but instead, it was dripping wet from the pussy juice of my 16 year old girlfriend. Karen seemed more experienced then I was as I felt her move her non-jacking hand and begin to hold and rub my aching balls with her lightly touching fingers. She also used her pumping hand to squeeze and release, squeeze and release with each up and down stroke. It was many years until I again met another girl who had so wonderfully mastered the art of the hand job as well as young Karen demonstrated that night in the hay. My only lament about the evening is that it would be many years before I fully realized the ineptness of my knowledge about the female anatomy and the actual mechanics of female masturbation. All boys should have lessons at some time to allow them the opportunity to equally satisfy their youthful sex partners with masturbation and orgasm. Later, my own education actually came from a young bi-sexual and budding lesbian who taught me the fine art of pleasuring a woman... but, that indeed is another story. Karen and I continued our heavy petting and whether she had an orgasm, or not, I must plead ignorant. But, there was no doubt that I soon experienced the first of three enormous orgasms that I was to enjoy that evening! Karen was truly an artist. And, she was prepared. She had brought along four soft packs of Kleenex in her purse, and, in addition to my three healthy orgasms, she used several tissues to wipe off her sopping pussy that was emitting the first of my odiferous memories, namely wet, hot and pungent pussy odor. Is there anything better? While I am certain that all of the other teen couples along that night had a fine time on that hay ride, it remains for me, the epitome of a peak experience upon which all of my subsequent sexual encounters are measured. With the rocking of the wagon and the clattering of the shoed horse hoofs and rickety wagon wheels along the rutted wagon trails, none of us was ever concerned about the enjoyment of anyone but ourselves. And, suffice-it-to-say, Karen and I had a wonderful time. This night was the prelude to many months of sexual sharing that was unfortunately ended when Karen and Mike's parents went through a marital reconciliation and they moved away to live together again as a family at a far distant military installation. Perhaps that pleasant long ago sexual encounter added not only to my budding sexual experiential history, but also led to my choice, as an adult to join the military. But, that's another story, too.