The Haircut

I followed Vickie's car to her apartment. As soon as she had her front door shut, Vickie undid my belt and pulled down my zipper. "I want to see you hairless again," she giggled.

I took her in my arms, kissed her, then let her go and undid her slacks. I pushed them and her panties to the floor. She kicked off her shoes and stepped out of them. "You look wonderful shaved," I said.

"Thank you," Vickie replied. She finished undoing my trousers and pushed them and my boxers down to the floor. I slipped off my shoes and stepped out of them.

I grasp the hem of Vickie's top and started pulling up, saying "I want to see all of you. Vickie let me take her top off. She hadn't put her bra back on at the salon. I leaned forward and kissed each nipple.

Vickie gently pushed me away from her and said, "your turn." I let her lift my shirt off. She took my hand and said, "the bedroom's back here." We left our clothes in a heap in her entryway.

When we got into the bedroom, I sat Vickie down on the side of the bed. "Lie back," I said. She did. I knelt on the floor and gently pushed her legs apart. Leaning forward, I started by kissing her newly shaven mound. I ran my tongue over her outer lips before probing more deeply. I took a few moments before I found a spot she seemed to really enjoy. I alternated between licking there with my tongue and sucking on her clit. I was in no hurry. Having my face in her pubes was very pleasant.

As Vickie's breathing got faster and her hips started moving, I licked faster and pushed harder. After some time doing that, Vickie closed her thighs around my head. I could hear her going "oh...oh... oh oh... oh oh oh... OOOOOH!" Vickie's thighs clenched tightly around my head and her body shook. I hoped that was a good sign.

After a few seconds, Vickie's thighs relaxed. "Get... up... here," she said. I crawled onto the bed beside her. Without giving me a chance to wipe my face, Vickie kissed me. It was a long kiss, and our tongues became well acquainted. She also started stroking me. Then, without breaking the kiss, Vickie rolled herself on top of me and slid down my body. My dick slid into her well lubricated pussy. "I'm sorry," Vickie said, "you've got me so worked up, I'm going to come again soon." With her tits against my chest, she began moving her hips up and down, sliding her vagina on my dick.

It has been a few months since I'd had sex. However, I don't think that explains why Vickie felt so great that night. I'd been ridden by other women. She was way better. Vickie started orgasming again, but she kept going. Her "ohs" became louder and faster. I came, powerfully, just as she had stopped and lay flat on my chest. I put my arms around her, loosely so she could breathe. She finally raised her head and looked at me. I've never seen anything as beautiful as Vickie Traugher's face that night.

I, of course, slept over. I woke up before Vickie did. I rolled on my side and looked at her. I've always believed that, to know whether a woman is truly beautiful, you need to see her asleep when she's not consciously trying to create an appearance. By that standard, Vickie was exceptionally beautiful. I'm sure a lot of men would find fault with her nose. It was large and, taken by itself, probably wasn't very attractive. However, it was what made Vickie's face Vickie's and, in that context, enhanced her beauty in my opinion.

Vickie finally opened her eyes. She saw me studying her. "Looking at my nose?" she asked.

I leaned forward, kissed the tip of her nose, and said, "your nose is wonderful."

"An old boyfriend demanded that I have surgery to make it smaller," she said.

"Don't ever do that," I responded. "Your nose is part of your individual beauty." I'm not sure if she heard that as sincerely as I meant it, but she seemed satisfied.

She smiled. "Sorry if I came on pretty strong last night," she said. "Subtlety isn't one of my strengths."

"It worked out perfectly," I replied. "If you don't mind me asking, why me?"

Vickie smiled. "Well," she said. "If you remember, I got a very good look at you when we first met. I liked what I saw but, more important, I liked how you handled it. You obviously weren't expecting to have a salon stylist offer to trim your pubes. You didn't overreact. You just went with it. I assume me being there had something to do with that."

"It did," I said.

"You handled that well too," she said. "Of course, you looked at me down there when I had my pants off. I'd have been hurt if you hadn't but, most of the time, you were looking in my eyes. I also liked how you didn't act like the women in the room should be in awe of your tremendous dick. You just took your pants off and acted normally."

Vickie leaned up and kissed my lips quickly. Lying her head back, she said, "I knew the Department was looking for another assistant AD. When you said you were here on a job interview, I guessed that was it. When they introduced you around your first day, I decided I had to find out if you really were a decent guy. That's why I called you immediately about lunch and kept asking you to lunch. I really liked you, but I've made some poor choices in the past. So, I set up a salon night with my best friends. I wanted to see how you'd act with two pretty women you had just met. Also, they were my screening committee. We had code words worked out. If either of them had a bad feeling about you at dinner, I would have developed a sick stomach and the salon trip would have been off."

"I'm glad the code words were not given," I said.

"I am too," Vickie replied. "What did you think of my friends?"

"Melissa is quiet, maybe even a bit timid," I said.

"That's fair," Vickie said.

"Chandra is a beautiful woman and seems bright and personable," I went on.

"They're both wonderful," Vickie said, "although it takes a little work to get to know Melissa. Leon, Chandra's boyfriend, is a great guy."

Vickie suddenly tossed off the bedding and popped out of bed. Standing there naked, she looked like a vision. "I need coffee," she said. "I like to run around bareass, if you haven't noticed." She pulled the bedding off me. "I like my boyfriend to be bareass too," she added. She paused. In a completely different tone of voice, she asked, "you are my boyfriend, aren't you?"

I swung my legs out of bed, stood up, and walked to Vickie. I gave her a tight naked hug. "Yes," I said, "I'm your boyfriend, and honored to be." We kissed for a long time. It felt very good holding Vickie's bare body against mine.

We had coffee and sat around naked, talking; until I decided I needed to get to the gym. Athletic Department administrative staff were not allowed to use the weight rooms and training facilities for the varsity athletes, at least not staff at my low level. I'd didn't like the University facilities open to all students and staff. I'd found a grungy old weightlifting club that I could afford. It had all kinds of neat things, like bands, chains, and chalk. Better still, workout clothes were universally sweat and rust-stained tee shirts and shorts or sweatpants with the fronts of the legs worn from deadlifts. Vickie insisted on going with me. She made quite an impression in her clean, form-fitting spandex. She looked almost as good as she did naked.

After the gym, I decided to buy stuff to make dinner. The gym didn't have showers and Vickie found the wide berth I was given at the grocery amusing. Back at Vickie's apartment, I enjoyed peeling her out of her spandex. We showered together and didn't dress for the rest of the day. Getting a good look around Vickie's apartment disclosed another endearing, at least to me, trait: Vickie had a lot of books. She had ancient history, modern history, economics, anatomy, and sports medicine. Any doubts I had about Vickie vanished completely when I saw she had John Le Carre, Len Deighton, Ian Fleming, and Anais Nin.

Cooking in the nude was a new experience for me, but I took pride in my cooking and had insisted that I fix dinner in hopes of impressing Vickie. I think my shrimp pasta with garlic and red pepper flakes did the job. We did get playful though. Vickie draped pasta over her breasts and had me suck it off. I wrapped pasta around my dick and she sucked it off me. We were completely comfortable with each other.

We cuddled nude on Vickie's sofa watching a movie for a time that night. Then, we went back to her bedroom. That night was missionary position, very slow and loving. As I alluded to earlier, Vickie was a surprisingly strong woman. She used some of her strength that night. Vickie and I share the view that good sex means giving more pleasure to your partner than you take for yourself. That shared belief may be part of the reason we're still together so many years later.

It was just getting light that Sunday morning when Vickie woke me. I was not typically awake at dawn on Sunday, so I was a bit sluggish. Vickie, however, was full of energy. "You do swim, don't you?" she asked.

"Yeah," I answered, mystified why we were talking about it so early on a Sunday.

"Get some clothes on and come on," Vickie said. I dropped off the clothes I'd worn Friday night and picked up a change when we'd stopped at my apartment the day before to get my lifting clothes. I pulled those on and followed Vickie out her door. We walked the approximately ten blocks to campus and then weaved through the deserted campus to the building housing the pool that served the general University population.

As we approached the building, I said, "the pool doesn't open until 1:00 p.m. on Sunday, does it?"

"You're right," Vickie replied, "but I have a key. I made friends with the recreation and IM folks when I was in undergrad. They trust me, so I can use the pool when it's not open." I followed her to a small steel door on the side of the old building. She unlocked and opened it. "Be careful," she said. "I try to use as few lights as possible." I followed Vickie because, unlike me, she knew where she was going.

Vickie opened another door, and I got a whiff of chlorine. There was enough light that I could see the 25-meter pool a few feet in front of me. Vickie went to a panel on the wall and turned on about a third of the lights. She walked back to me and said, "the real benefit to using the pool when it is closed is that you don't need a swimsuit." She pulled her tee shirt over her head, revealing her bare chest, then dropped her shorts to the concrete deck.

I quickly shed my clothes and followed her to the end of the pool. "You take the outside lane," she said, "in case you need to stop and rest." With that, she gracefully dove into the second lane from the wall. I dove into my assigned lane and followed Vickie for a moderately paced four laps. She stopped briefly at the end of the pool until I caught up. "Now," she said, "the workout begins." She pushed off the wall and started doing butterfly towards the far end of the pool. Butterfly wasn't one of my stronger strokes, so I continued in freestyle. At twenty laps, I shifted to breaststroke to conserve my waning energy. Vickie did another ten laps of butterfly, during which she lapped me, before shifting to freestyle without a break. At 1,000 meters, I did what Vickie had predicted and started hanging on the side of the pool.

Vickie swam, in total, 1,500 meters before she took a break. She ducked under the lane divider and swam up next to me. She took my dick in her hand under the water, smiled sweetly, and said "give me another twenty laps and I'll make it worth your while. We'll take it easy."

I wasn't out of shape, but I'd never done a lot of swimming. What were smooth, natural motions for Vickie were work for me. I finished the 500 meters very aware I'd used muscles I hadn't used much in a long time. Vickie popped out of the pool as if she'd done nothing. I'd been so focused on finishing, or surviving, the swim that I'd forgotten we were both naked until I saw her exquisite form standing beside the pool. I levered myself out of the water. Vickie walked up to me and said, "not too bad for someone who obviously doesn't swim regularly." Smiling, she took my hand and said, "let's shower the chlorine off."

Vickie led me to the women's locker room. "The women's has better shampoo," she said. Unlike the large, tiled room with showerheads around the wall that I was used to, the women's locker room had individual shower cubicles. It was a pleasantly tight squeeze for the two of us to fit into one. Vickie stood with her back to me while I shampooed her hair. My dick was pressed against her ass. When she shifted her feet a bit, I went partway in between her hips. I wasn't complaining.

After I finished with her hair, I started washing her front with my arms wrapped around her. I spent a long time on her breasts and thought they'd be cleaner if I also kissed the back of her neck. When her nipples were nicely hard, I washed down her flat stomach. For the moment, I skipped over her mound. Instead, I squatted down behind her and started washing up one calf then the other. As I got up to her thighs, my face was about in line with her splendid ass. I kissed that a few times. With her back still to me, I stood, quickly rinsed both hands, and began working between her thighs.

I'd only had a couple of fingers inside her for a moment when Vickie spun around to face me. Her eyes gleamed and her expression was a mix of joy and lust. She stroked me a few times, primarily to get any chlorine off; I was already hard. I lifted her up against the tile wall beneath the showerhead. She wrapped her legs around me as I slid my dick inside her. It was easier than I expected to make love to Vickie holding her up against the wall. The warm water pouring over us was a nice addition. Vickie and I came almost together. Her orgasmic "OOOOH!" echoed off the tile in the room.

We toweled off and went back out to the pool where we'd left our clothes. "Now you understand why I prefer to be here when the pool is closed?" Vickie asked. I smiled and nodded. "I swim at least four days a week," she added, "and I haven't worn a swimsuit since I graduated. It will be nice to have a swim partner."

"It will be nice to be your partner," I said.

Vickie stepped to me, kissed my lips, and said, "we'll be partners in a lot besides swimming."

"I hope we're partners in everything from now on," I said. I meant it. Vickie realized that I meant it. A serious commitment was made, both ways, while we stood naked beside the closed pool that Sunday morning.

I soon met Chandra's boyfriend, Leon Bowser. Like Chandra, Leon was from Southern California, but they had met up here. Leon was several inches taller than me, but we had a little common background. Leon had played basketball at a well-regarded private university in Northern California that was in a major sports conference, the same conference to which the University I worked for belonged. I had played football at a well-regarded private university in the Great Lakes region that belonged to the major college sports conference in the Midwest. Neither Leon nor I had been talented enough to move on to the professional level of our sports. Leon was now the basketball coach at an expensive private high school in an exclusive part of the city.

A few weeks after I met Leon, in late July, Vickie and Chandra decided the four of us would take a weekend road trip. They invited Melissa, but she declined. Vickie was frustratingly vague about where we were going, saying only that it wasn't that long a drive and that I'd like it. We left early on a Saturday morning. About three hours later, we went through a major city and turned east, following the Columbia River. Leon drove into a state park on the river's south bank. After we had parked the car and walked a way, I understood the point of the journey. The park had a nude beach. "There's been an established nude beach here for decades," Chandra told me.

It was about 11:00 a.m. on a sunny and warm Saturday. There were already a number of people there, all nude. The four of us quickly undressed. Vickie and I covered each other in sunscreen. Sitting with Vickie on a beach towel, I was struck by how natural and sensible it all seemed. Being naked in this setting seemed much more appropriate than wearing clothes.

I was also struck by how friendly people were. A couple about my and Vickie's age sat down a few feet from us. The woman looked as though she might be early in a pregnancy. We got talking with them and found out the woman, Karen, was indeed pregnant. Her husband, Lance, was a state police officer.

"We first came here about three years ago," Karen told us. "Some friends talked us into coming, but we were certainly not going to take our clothes off." Karen looked at Lance, who nodded his agreement. "We got here, and we were the only people with clothes on. It was weird being the only people with clothes on when everyone else is naked. We felt so uncomfortable, we finally undressed. It was great! We come here every weekend we can during the summer. I don't want to go to a beach where I have to wear a suit." Lance smiled and nodded his agreement again.

There was a slightly tattered volleyball net set up closer to the river. Two couples started knocking a ball back and forth over the net. Chandra stood up and said to us, "Come on. Let's see if we can get a game." Chandra took the lead, and we soon had a game. It was Chandra, Vickie, Leon, and me against the two other couples. The other couples were good players and the game got serious quickly. Chandra, Leon, and Vickie were very competitive. Chandra had, of course, been a college player. Vickie and Leon weren't bad. I tended to stay back, setting the ball for Chandra or Leon. I played better than I thought I would.

I did have difficulty concentrating. I tended to be mesmerized by the sight of Vickie's and Chandra's nude bodies in motion. I guess my education kicked in because I remember thinking "Damn. I bet people would pay to see this." I buried that thought quickly. Thanks, primarily to Chandra, we beat the two couples and two other groups that took us on before we stopped so others could play. We had a great day along the river.

We decided we needed to leave around 6:00 p.m. However, the thought of putting clothes back on was repulsive. Vickie and I solved that problem by wrapping towels around ourselves. We carried our clothes back to Leon's car. Vickie and I were riding in the back seat. Once we were on the highway again, the towels came off. We rode nude for a few minutes until Chandra, sitting in the front passenger seat, turned to say something to us. Seeing Vickie and me naked, Chandra said, "that's not fair!"

Chandra turned back around and began wriggling out of her clothes. Soon, she tossed a tee shirt, shorts, and panties into the back seat. "Keep an eye on those," she said jokingly. "I hope not, but I might need them again." Poor Leon, the driver, was the only person in the car not naked.

Three hours in the backseat of a car on the Interstate is boring, even in the Pacific Northwest. Vickie soon started to alleviate her boredom by playing with my dick. I returned the favor by fingering her clit. It didn't take us long to get worked up. "Chandra," Vickie asked, "can you slide your seat forward a little?"

Without thinking, Chandra did as Vickie asked. Vickie had me sit on the front edge of the back seat behind Chandra. That gave Vickie just enough room to get on her knees and straddle me. I don't think it was the most comfortable position for her, but I slid my dick into Vickie. We soon forgot about our cramped position in Leon's back seat.

Vickie's heavy breathing caught Chandra's attention. She turned again, saying," What the hell's going on back there?" She couldn't turn far enough to get a full view of us, but she saw enough. "You two!" she said, then added, "that's not a bad idea."