(M)y (F)irst Memories and My Time with Mason | 2016

First Memories and My Time with Mason

When did it all start, this obsession with women. Somewhere in my childhood I'm sure. As a child I had a best friend named Sarah, this little brunette who lived down the street. We played house together. Well, she played house, I played war. Scrapping all the pine needles together we made the out line of a my fort, or a house with kitchen and bedrooms for each of our children. Sarah would pat our these mud cracks for me to pretend eat, topped with a twig. "Here's diner," she would happily say. With a thanks honey, I'ld take a cake pull the pin with my teeth and toss the grenade into the imaginary enemies storming our base.

Sarah and I got along great. We fit into our imaginary lives perfectly. Looking back I realized that we never argued about the roles we were playing. She was my second in command helping me shoot any shadow or stray dog that came into our line of fire. I was the perfect husband who always came home from work, kissing the kids and intently listening to my wife.

With Sarah I'd discovered that boys and girls were different. Actually she pointed this out to me as I was playing naked in the sprinkler in the back yard. We had played in the water often I recall, but for some reason I had ditched my swim trunks. I do that even today if I get the chance. She pointed down at my junk screaming something's got me! "No, it's not a snake," I told her. "It's my peepee." She laughed saying she didn't have that particular part.

I don't know how any relationship could have been more important, supportive or even more fun. Sarah and I complement each other in every way possible. Even though we might have been play two entirely different games, we were playing together. We couldn't let any other kids join because they would fight with us about how Sarah's house was a fort or how my grenades were supposed to be mud pies.

Well, add some years, sexual maturity and a developed woman's body and the real fun begins. Somewhere around 5th grade I realized that girls were sexy as hell. My family had moved twice sense then and Sarah was only a memory, so I didn't have any close girls who were my friend. No girl could have replaced Sarah. But I tried. Now talking to girls in elementary school was difficult. Say something sweet and they would giggle all the way down the halls. Tell them something gross and they would scream bloody murder.

Now I admit I'm obsessed with women. The way they look, smell, act and taste drive me wild. It's a sexual obsession yeah, but it's also deeper than that. I've love the women I've been with. Not all, of course not. However, sex without the passion of love is just a step above masturbation. Hell, masturbation is sometimes easier than trying to get a woman who's not into sex to get you off.

Now when there is a women who is in to me as much as I'm into her, that is when lightening strikes. I didn't know what that was like for the longest time. As a teenager, I thought getting off was the end all part of sex. That was all I could think about when talking to girls in high school, which may have been the reason I didn't have a girlfriend. I dated different girls here and there, but nothing came of the dates. Heck, my first kiss was during a game of truth and dare.

I didn't really get involved with a girl until I went up to Yellowstone National Park for a summer job. I worked in Mammoth Falls on the border of Montana and Wyoming. My first days there I met Dawn. She and I became fast friends being that she was from Austin and I was from Houston. We were the two Texans. Through Dawn I met Mason. They were roommates.

Oh Mason was a hot collage chick. She was 20 and was about to start her sophomore year at Washing State. Being a tall brunette with crystal blue eyes, slender hips and firm breasts that were constantly spilling out of her tight tops, she was the hottest thing in a thousand miles. She had this perky personality with a confident bright smile. She was easy to talk to and easier on the eyes. Every guy and even some of the girls had a thing for Mason, but I had the inside ticket... Dawn. Just the hint that I was into Mason, Dawn started whispering my praises in her ear.

Within days of settling in my new dorm, Dawn was knocking at my door. "There is a party tonight," she told me. "Mason is going to be there. Here," she handed me a bottle of vodka. "Tell her you got something special and give her this." Now it was easy to come by beer up in Yellowstone. All the little stores sold caned beer like water. But hard liquor was impossible to come. It took a hours drive to get to the nearest grocery store in Montana. Now vodka wouldn't have been my first choice, but Dawn assured me Mason had a soft spot for its water-like qualities that burned going down. "She's Russian after all." Well, her parents had immigrated from Russia, so she was close enough.

As instructed I found Mason at the party and whispered I had a surprise for her. With a wry smile she said for me to meet her in her room thirty minutes before the bon fire. With the bottle in hand I knocked at her door. She greeted me in her trademarked cutoff blue jean daisy dukes and tank top that exposed her sexy midriff. Mason was a volleyball player in high school and collage so her mid section was well defined with a partial six pack. Yeah, she was a sexy little number.

Triumphantly, I presented her the bottle of vodka as I cave man would give over a dear to his cave women. Mason was overly impressed pulling me inside her room. She found two glasses and we were soon doing shots straight up with no chaser. Man that stuff burned going down. Mason handled it like a champ and I struggled to keep pace. We played some stupid drinking games that we made up on the spot, because we lacked cards, diene or even a quarter (as quarters were cherished as a means of laundry.) Instead of quarters, we played toss the ball into cleavage. The game was simple; bounce a little rubber ball off the wall and down mason's shirt. She was an expert at this game because she to maneuver the target to or away from the bounced ball.

God, vodka was evil. Let me tell you. After finishing the first third of the bottle we were at the bon fire dancing like barbarian heathens. At one point some dude asked Mason something. She yelled, "Hell no! I'm gonna be sucking Joe's dick tonight." Yeah, she yelled that in front of everyone. Being stupid drunk, I was as proud as a new dad with twins passing out cigars to all his buddies.

Now, I had little to no experience with women. Okay, I was a virgin. A very drunk virgin, so I just went with the flow, but above everything, I was playing it really cool and smooth. As if I was experienced and tried my damnedest not to hang on Mason and slobber all over her sexy ass body, even though my libido was making me want to jump her at every turn. I kept myself collected as if hanging out with a beautiful woman happened every day.

I clearly remember that night, more so than some sober nights. Shortly after her statement to the crowd, we left the bon fire and returned to her room for the vodka. Our plan was to head to the falls and make out on the board walk in the moon light. That plan was thwarted as we realized the moon was nowhere to be found that night. So we ended up stumbling around passing our bottle back and forth talking about our lives and laughing about our families. Now Mason last name was Liyauor which is Russian for liquor, so needless to say we made I fine pair. Liyauor for Beer. Beer for Liyauor. It so much funnier when your drunk, believe me.

Being thrilled with hanging out with Mason I tried running up walls and doing back flips. Showing off like a ten year old kid, that was me. Winding up on the ground more than my feet kept Mason bent over laughing. After one particular nasty fall, Mason suggested we go back to my room.

By the time we got to the room the bottle was empty. I'm thinking we spilled parts of it along our journey across the park. If we had drank it all I'm sure we would have ended up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning. But I'm certain we drank a large portion.

The first time was kissed was crazy passionate. Open mouthed, tongue and all. She even bit my lip so hard that I thought it was bleeding. Pushing her into the walls and doors up and down the halls heading to my room, we about woke half the dorm. Mason grabbed at my butt with both hands, pushing her hips full into my crotch. In seconds, she had my shirt off and my pants unzipped. In return I had her top off and bra on the floor long before I opened the door to the room. I know this because someone found our clothes the next morning and hung them in the common room for all to see and gossip about. Our pants were off quickly so that we were able to start grinding on the bed.

In my mind I wanted to try everything I had ever heard about or read about. Yeah, in my mind I was going to be smooth, starting with pulling her panties off with my teeth. That didn't work, as I chomped down on a piece of her skin along with her panties. She yelped and giggled for me to be careful. Then I was about to lick her, but only ended up tickling her. Changing tactics I went for her beautiful mammaries and sucked on each zealously.

Now this is the part I tell you that I bent her over and pounded her ass long and hard. Well, to say that would be a lie. Sometime around then I discovered something was very wrong. Well, a lot of things were going to go wrong that night, but this still plagues me until this day. Now she had her legs up on my shoulders and I was thrusting at her through my underwear. As we were dry humping I realized that I wasn't hard. Actually, I was as limp as a garden hose on a hot summer day. Sitting back she followed me with a devious smile and went face first straight for the problem. Even with her sucking like the vacuum from Spaceballs, it still wasn't responding.

About then she started to turn green and dashed for my trash can. She didn't make it, puking all over my floor and up on the side of my bed. Now I can't really laugh about this at all, because at least she made it away from me. Just the smell of the pure vodka mixed with her diner made my stomach churn. In a dizzy stumble I chased her, trying to hold back the flood of vomit. Didn't even come close to the trash can as I tripped over her feet. Falling on my knees it all came flooding out.

Now I'll let this picture sink in with you. Mason is laid out naked on the floor and I had just fallen over her and the vomit came like the blast of a shot gun. No need to aim, it was going everywhere! Yeah, the first time being in the same room with a naked girl ready to sex me up in every way thinkable, I vomited all across her stomach.

The night before had seemed like a crazy dream. It wasn't. We woke in the shower, the next morning, of the boys bathroom buck naked and clean. We had to sneak through the dorms naked to get back to my room. Everything stunk to high hell. Puke covered everything from the side of my bed, across the floor and even on large portions of my clothes. I vividly recalled not wanting to use my one precious towel to clean Mason off so I opted for opening my dressing and using a few shirts and a pair of jeans.

Gross. Very, very nasty, I know. After that I wouldn't even want to date myself. To my surprise Mason wanted to see me again. The next day she invited me along to see Old Faithful. No more hard liquor for us, was her only caveat.

Bright and early one Saturday morning I met Mason, Dawn and Mike, Dawn's new beau in the parking lot. Mike had borrowed a little 89' Honda Accord from a friend. There was barely enough room for four people. I drove with Mason by my side on the way down as Dawn and Mike spent the two hour trip to Old Faithful making out under a blanket. Well, it was more than just kissing, because Mike was doing some serious thrusting and Dawn was moaning. Mason whispered, "I think we're going to have to out do them this afternoon. Are you going to be up to it this time?" Or "Your going to have to get very hard to get me to cum like that." This type of taunting went on relentlessly through our trip.

All through watching geysers shoot off I was thinking of shooting off myself. "You see that?" I whispered to Mason as we watched Old Faithful erupting. "That's nothing compared to how I'm going to make you feel later."

"Just try to last more than an hour, baby." She replied patting my cheek.

On the return trip, Mason and I cuddled under the blanket laughing and carrying on as we teased each other. Of course I was nervous, more so than the last time we had fooled around. Guess the lack of vodka had upped my reservations. On the bright side, a certain part of my body was standing at full attention, bucking at the zipper of my jeans. "Oh, God!" Mason exclaimed as she unzipped my pants and my dick about slapped her in the face. "This is gonna be something to write home about." She said as she started stroking me.

Now up until that point, I thought I had a small dick. Well at least to the porn I had watched. I wasn't much into showing my junk. Guys in school always joked about having dicks a long as rulers and thick as baby's arm, so at 7 inches I assumed that I had a small little prick. I now know I'm above average. Just back then, being as naive as I was, I thought my penis was small. So when Mason complement me on my size and girth, adding, "I don't know how we are going to fit this into me," I swelled with pride.

While she was complementing my parts, I was working to get her shorts and panties off to get a good sobering look at her parts. Now this girl was so dripping wet that I thought she had peed herself. Being horny, I didn't care. I just wanted to play with that little pussy of hers. Now I'm saying it was little because it was unlike any other pussy I had ever seen in magazines. Pussies of porn stars had full lips that seemed to gaped open like a sarlacc without teeth, or at least that was how my mind remembered them. In the porno flicks, the chicks could take a full on ranging ten inch cock that was thicker than the handle of a baseball bat. Mason was different. More petite. She had no curtains of lips, no gaping hole. She was beautiful and pink with a small pronounced mound at the top. There was no gap what so ever that made her seem tight. I was afraid that I was going to tear her apart trying to push my penis into her.

Now you are thinking that I'm for shadowing the outcome of out frolic that day. Well, I am, but not in the way you are thinking. No, it gets so much worse than the last night we had spent together. Just listen.

I did what any decent man would do. I tried to losses her up a little with a finger. She enjoyed this immensely, grinding down at me humming. With my thumb I rubbed the little mound where her clitoris was hiding. Mason went wild at this, grabbing at my wrist, hissing through her lips. Continuing this for several minutes until she calmed down enough to focus on my penis again, before I added a second finger. Again she, hissed out her pleasure. Gosh, I was doing good, I thought. I guess I was instant expert in getting women off. I added a third, thinking she had to be a lot looser to accommodate me.

Around this time, Mike slowed down and began to start and stop as if we had entered a traffic jam. He whispered to Dawn and she whispered back as if surprised. In the back of my mind I was afraid they were watching us. As Mason had seemed to have completely forgotten about my penis, having closed her eyes to the pleasure leaving me to do all the work, I peeked out of the blanket. All I could see from the windows was dark brown turf like hair.

As was common in Yellowstone, Mike had driven into a herd of buffalo crossing the highway and the traffic was backing up for miles. The buffalo seemed oblivious to the traffic as they marched from one field across the two lanes of traffic to the next. We could roll down the windows and touch the beasts. As it was, the tourists were hanging out their windows taking pictures.

Normally, I would have told Mason to have a look. However, she again grabbed my wrist, wiggling her hips for me to continue what I was doing. Not a big decision. With three fingers bunched together knuckle deep and my pinky uncomfortably folded back, I worked on getting her over the edge of her coming climax.

And she was getting close, very close. She was sticky wet, dripping on my hand, over her thighs and onto the seat below. Not pee, I realized. No. She was cuming! Her breathing was ragged with heavy grunting as two large buffalo passed between our little car and the truck in front of us with very little room to spare. The larger of the two became agitated, turning on the other. It brought its head down and lifted the other dropping it heavily on the hood of the little Accord. The windshield shatter as the hood crumpled. Instantly, Mark and Dawn were over the seat and on top of Mason and I in the back seat.

Now here is were the foreshadowing I had mentioned before comes into play. Mike slammed my elbow with his knee forcefully enough to jam my fist! Mason just seemed to swallowed my fist to the wrist, which I didn't think was possible. Her grunting changed into a hollow gasping, that quickly escalated into a shriek! As Mike and Dawn were screaming,"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Mason and I were screaming," Fuck, fuck, fuck," for very different reasons. With just the motion of sitting back my fist popped out with a deep, wet lollipop sound.

The buffalo tumbled off the hood of the car and went right back to doing what her was doing like that happened every day. We returned to Mammoth Falls with the shatter windshield and the hood that seemed molded in the form of the engine and carburetor. Mike's friend wasn't too happy to see how trashed his car was, but that compared little to how Mason acted after the event. She had looked and acted uncomfortable during the ride back and said very little. She assured me was he was okay, but was holding her crotch as if she needed to pee. Later that day she discover that I had indeed tore her. She was bleeding and went to the clinic.

Two days later she quit and was gone without a word. Dawn said she needed to see her female doctor. I learned much later that summer that she had to get stitches. The worst part I'm sure was that she had to explain how she tore herself.

I think back to the times I spent with Mason and wished there could have gotten to know her better. As it is, she seems like a hollow memory in my mind as if I was cheated. There was so much more to Mason than these few stories. They seem funny and I get laughs when I tell my friends at bars, but deep down I feel as if I missed out on something wonderful. To go back and change the outcome, maybe if could have impacted Mason's lift in a more positive way.

However, I can't take the past and change it. If we didn't every thing would different. When Mason left, Kerry arrived and changed my life.