Jean - The Birth of Venus Ch. 01

Part 1: The Contract

This story takes place in 1976 before there were cell phones and personal computers.

I have based this story on one of Jean's diaries that I recently found hidden in our basement. Some of her entries are too fantastical to believe, but everything I have personal knowledge of is accurate if you allow for a difference of opinion. I'll let you be the judge

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Chapter 1

"Cut it out, Steve! I don't want to be late for my flight." I slapped his hands away from my flirty summer dress. I was still nervous about flying and was anxious to arrive at the airport early to avoid the host of delays that my paranoia anticipated.

Steve ignored my plea and continued to unbutton my dress as fast as I buttoned it.

Steve laughed and said, "We have plenty of time for a quickie. It only takes a half hour to get to the San Jose Airport. If we leave now, you'll only end up waiting in the lounge for an hour and a half."

"Steve, be careful. It's an old dress, and you'll rip off the buttons."

"Well then, just take off the dress. I promise I'll be fast. It's a long time until next summer, and I need you one last time. I also imagine my sweet little nymphomaniac could use a quick fuck to relax her."

I tried to ignore my boyfriend's sexist remark. Somehow men who have a high sex drive are studs or Casanovas while women are described as sluts, whores, nymphomaniacs or to use an old term hysterical. Steve's sex drive was every bit as strong as mine, and I resented the implication that there was something wrong with me. I chose to ignore his unintended insult because I needed a good fucking from the man I had thought I had lost forever when I went to law school while he took a job in a California research laboratory.

Steve had arranged to take a vacation and paid to fly me out after my first year at Temple Law School was over. We had been fucking like mink for the last two weeks. I knew exactly how many times we had had sex because Steve was a nerdy scientist and had put a tick mark on the calendar for each time we did it. At first, we started out at a slow pace and only fucked three or four times a day. Now, the calendar had six or seven tick marks on each day. This last encounter would bring us to seventy-nine times in fifteen days. It still didn't feel like enough to last through my second year at Temple.

I sent my horny boyfriend a copy of 'Joy of Sex' for Christmas, and now that I was here he wanted to try every position in the two volumes. He made a rule that we weren't allowed to repeat a position unless we were in a new location. We fucked late at night in the apartment pool several times as well as the hot tub. Another night, we did it on the lawn outside our unit as well as in the courtyard gazebo. We had even done it in the common laundry room with me sitting on a shaking dryer. We had found places along the hiking trails to Mount Diablo and Mount Tamalpais, around Angel Island and Point Reyes. We had been caught a couple of times which only seemed to add to the excitement. I was afraid I was in danger of becoming an exhibitionist despite my strict upbringing.

Somehow, we had also managed to swim laps in the apartment pool most days and go for several hikes around the Bay Area. Our only other major activity was gorging ourselves on the local cuisine. I had lost fifteen pounds at law school, and Steve was determined to put some meat on my bones. With all the exercise, I had only managed to regain eight pounds, but most of the added weight was in my boobs and dancer's ass. Steve was thrilled I had regained most of my curves.

Normally, I wear jeans or shorts in the summer with a tee shirt. For my flight to Los Angeles, I had picked out a lightweight sleeveless summer dress with large buttons down the front. Even with my mother's aid, I could barely afford law school and had gone searching for useable clothes in my mother's attic. I hadn't worn the dress since early in high school before I developed boobs. With all the weight, I had lost in law school, the dress fit once again. It was a little tight across my ample breasts. The lower part flared from my trim waist and provided my curvaceous hips a little room. The dress was decorated with a pastel print of flowers and fruit. It was so thin, you could see my pink areolas if you knew where to look among the flowers. In case you are wondering about the lack of a bra, my generous but firm breasts have been bare ever since I became aware of the Women's Liberation Movement.

One of the reasons, I had chosen this suggestive dress was because I wanted to leave a strong image in Steve's head of our last hours together. I didn't want to leave any doubt in his mind that he desired my return next summer. As I thought about it, I realized Steve was right. What better way to leave a lasting impression than to have a quickie.

I surrendered. "Ok, give me a second to take off the dress."

I carefully laid the dress on the bed and started to turn around. Steve's eager hands gripped my hips and guided me toward the front of a stuffed chair. He pushed me over at the waist, and I grabbed the armrests for support. Before I could protest, he ripped my bikini panties down my thighs.

I spread my legs and said, "Steve, we don't have time for foreplay. I'm already wet; just stick it in and go."

I moaned as he eagerly followed my request. His cock plunged into the depths of my moist vagina. God, I loved his cock; it was somewhat above average and a perfect fit for my tight pussy. Sensing my impatience, he wasted no time in setting up a pounding pace. I pushed my hips back to meet his thrusts. After a couple of powerful lunges, Steve realized he didn't need his hands on my hips to support me. He slid one hand up my torso to grasp one of my jiggling breasts. His fingers grabbed my nipple and rolled it between his fingers. His other hand slid along the outside of my pussy lips.

"No time for teasing. Just go for my clit and fuck me harder."

I had trained Steve well. When we first met, he had no concept of the female orgasm or even much about the female anatomy. Early in our relationship, I had given him a detailed seminar. I had laid on my back with my legs spread wide. I directed him to get close with his head between my thighs. I could feel his breath on my wet pussy as I pointed out the visible parts of the vulva. After explaining the female anatomy, I proceeded to thrust one finger into my vagina while rubbing my clit until I orgasmed. After resting a couple of minutes, I directed him in a hands-on demonstration. He was ecstatic when he succeeded in bringing me to a warm orgasm with just his fingers. Next, I gave a lesson on using his tongue. Since my lecture, Steve's competence in bed has soared.

Steve's fingers found my clit, and I screamed at the abruptness of the intense stimulation. I know I had told him to go right for it, but even so, I wasn't ready for him to touch my clit. I was caught by surprise as I orgasmed hard. My vagina squeezed Steve's cock, and I heard him grunt. I thought he was through, but after a short pause for me to recover, he began thrusting again.

"Ah, ah, ah. Oh, god. Fuck me. Fuck me harder Steve, harder."

I kept squeezing his cock with my vagina as he pounded his erection into my quivering pussy. Despite the intense pleasure I was receiving, I knew we didn't have a lot of time. I kept urging him to go faster. His fingers were flying over my clit. He was panting hard as he shook my athletic body with his pounding. The breast he wasn't grasping was shaking violently. I heard myself yammering as my passion rose again. My body started shuddering as I orgasmed hard, much harder than the first time. My vagina clamped down on his cock, and Steve shot his seed deep into my womb. Thank god for birth control pills.

I needed a few minutes to come down. When I looked at the clock, I realized we had used twenty minutes of my reserve.

"Shit, we've got to hurry."

I ducked into the bathroom and wiped the sweat from my body with a damp washcloth. I cleaned away as much of the cum leaking from my pussy as I could. I was in such a hurry, I had left the bathroom door open. When I turned around Steve was already dressed in jeans and a tee shirt. He was leaning against the dresser ogling my naked body. I rushed back into the bedroom and snatched my panties from the floor. When I stepped into them, I realized they were ruined.

"Damn it, Steve. You ripped my underwear and broke the elastic. I can't wear these, and everything I have is in my suitcase down in your car. I don't have time to go down and rummage around. I'm being daring enough getting on a plane without a bra, but is no way I can wear this short dress without any panties."

"Got you covered, babe." Steve opened a dresser drawer and pulled out a package from a new place called Victoria's Secret.

"I didn't give it to you before because I lost my nerve, but I think it will come in handy now."

I stared at the package. It said it contained one red peek-a-boo G-string. I ripped it open and took out the tiny panties. There might have been three or four-square inches of frilly translucent silk cloth connected by narrow elastic strings. I looked at Steve and started to protest before I shook my head and slipped them on in front of a full-length mirror. A thin string ran up my butt crack leaving my ass cheeks bare. My bush was trimmed short and neat for my one-piece swimsuit but not enough for this skimpy garment. I could see dark pussy hairs sticking out all around the edges of the tiny triangle of silk. An inch of curly pubic hair was exposed above the top of the gossamer triangle of silk. I felt like crying, but I didn't have a better option.

"I don't understand what they mean by peek-a-boo."

Steve walked up behind me and reached around my waist to grasp the frilly edges of the tiny front panel. He carefully pulled the edges apart until they were outside my still engorged labia.

"Peek-a-boo, Jean."

I started at the sight of my most intimate pink girl flesh, glistening with moisture and framed by the bright red silk.

Before I could express my disapproval, Steve said, "These sexy little bit of nothing are a real advantage if you happen to be in a movie theater with the woman you love."

As he explained the features of my panties, he plunged two fingers into my moist vagina while rubbing my clit with his thumb.

I grabbed his wrist and moaned a protest, "Oh God, please stop. You'll make me miss my flight."

My body didn't agree with my brain. I gave my consent when I pulled his free hand to the top of my slit and dragged his fingers across my clit. I was rapidly wasting all the time I had reserved in case of traffic. I could have easily had Steve fetch my suitcase with all my clean panties inside from the car in the time it would take of him to get me off. I resigned myself to changing to more modest panties once I got to the airport.

Instead, I ground my bare ass against his crotch as I moaned, "Please hurry."

I leaned against Steve's athletic body and watched him work his magic through half closed eyes. I have to admit the bright red panties looked fantastic on my otherwise naked body. I caressed my breast and pinched my nipple with one hand while wrapping my other arm around the back of my neck. Thankfully, I was still aroused from being fucked hard, and I soon came on my boyfriend's fingers.

Steve removed his fingers with a sigh and pressed them between my lips. I tasted my arousal and the remains of his semen for a moment before I spun away feeling even more anxious about the time.

Steve picked up the package and said, "There is a note on the package. It says if the panties get wet they will become transparent. I think the manufacturer considers that a feature, but it shouldn't be a problem on an airplane."

I smiled my agreement as I pulled on my old Summer dress and carefully buttoned it up the front with shaking hands. All the buttons felt loose, and the top two buttons were long gone leaving the scoop neck gaping open down to the middle of my breasts. As long as I didn't lean over very far, all I showed was a lot of cleavage. I didn't plan on bending over for anyone other than Steve.

I ran a brush through my bleach-blond hair and fastened it into a ponytail before stepping into my high heel wedge shoes.

I looked into the mirror and said, "Ok, I'm ready, let's go."

I grabbed my oversize purse and my carry-on bag. Steve had already put my suitcase in the car. I started down the apartment stairs and saw Steve's black neighbor, Izzy, standing at the bottom of the stairs with a case of beer. I bounded down a couple of steps while he stared up my flared dress. The grin on his face suggested he could see my frilly panties. I didn't care if he could see the tiny patch of silk covering my pussy; he had seen a lot more of my body earlier in the summer.

Unfortunately, I had forgotten about the gusts of wind that often blew through the open stairwell. Both of my hands were occupied, and before I knew it, my dress was blown over my head. I couldn't see anything, but I could feel the breeze on the bottoms of my exposed breasts. I tried to control my wayward dress with my burdened arms, but the flimsy dress was flapping over my head. I turned around to avoid falling down the stairs. This move was a mistake since it exposed my bare ass cheeks to Izzy. He let out a whistle of appreciation. Steve was laughing as he came to my aid.

Ever since I lost a private round of strip poker with Steve and paid the consequences, Izzy has decided he is my best friend. Normally, Steve and I didn't need any excuses to get naked and fuck, but my boyfriend said the 'Joy of Sex' recommended sex games as a means of spicing things up. I thought the alcohol and weed-fueled poker game was over when I lost my last item of clothing, but Steve said we were now into forfeitures. I learned what that meant when I lost the next hand. He pulled a piece of folded paper from a jar and informed me I had to stand out on the balcony naked for five minutes. I pleaded for mercy, but he took my arm and guided me out onto our second-floor balcony. I would have screamed at him when I heard the door lock behind me, but I was afraid of attracting attention from everyone in the apartment complex.

I crouched down in panic and stared around at the other balconies. The three-story apartment buildings were arranged around a landscaped courtyard, and each luxury apartment had a balcony. I was safe from the first-floor apartments, but most of the higher units had a clear view of our balcony. Fortunately, it was late at night on a weekday, and it appeared most people had gone to bed. Most of the apartments were dark except for ours. A lamp at the other end of our living room barely illuminated my pale naked body.

All I had to do was last five minutes, and I forced myself to take slow deep breathes. Even during the summer, the San Francisco Peninsula gets chilly at night as a breeze brings fog from the ocean for a couple of hours after sunset. I squatted down and wrapped my arms around my legs. I had no idea how much time had elapsed before I began to shiver. My nipples felt hard as rocks. The cold breeze made me aware that my pussy was wet. How could I possibly be aroused when someone could come out onto their balcony at any minute and see me naked?

Steve stood at the sliding glass door in his boxers, and the sadistic bastard grinned as I cowered. When he moved, I expected him to let me inside. Instead, he had gone to fetch a notepad. He wrote something on the pad and held it to the glass door for me to see.

The note said, "If you want back in, do exactly as I say. Nod if you agree."

What choice did I have? I nodded.

He wrote a second note. It said, "Stand up and lean against the railing with your legs spread."

I scanned the other balconies again before standing up. I was holding my breath in fear. I was completely exposed. The dim light from our apartment felt like a stage spotlight on my glistening pussy.

The next note said, "Play with your breasts for a minute."

I swallowed hard and touched my icy nipples. Steve started a kitchen timer. I stuck out my tongue and massaged my generous breasts. I don't have a great sense of time, but it felt like a lot longer than a minute. Even though I was more exposed to the breeze standing up, I was beginning to feel warmer. Steve pantomimed pinching and rolling my nipples. My breathing got faster as I squeezed my nipples. I felt my pussy getting wetter.

I expected Steve would let me inside now so he could fuck me. The tent in his boxers told me he wanted me. God knows I wanted his cock in me now. Instead, he scribbled a new note.

"Masturbate to orgasm. I'll know if you are faking it."

My mouth fell open in shock. Even in the privacy of my bedroom, it took ten to fifteen minutes of direct intense stimulation of my clit for me to orgasm. I couldn't possibly have an orgasm while exposed to every passing stranger. I was shaking with fear. I shook my head and mouthed the word no over and over.

Steve took the note down and scribbled something. He held it back up. He had underlined the word 'masturbate" and written "Just do it." at the bottom of the note. He pantomimed two fingers thrusting into my vagina while my other hand rubbed my clit.

I closed my eyes and lowered my hands from my breasts to the glistening curls of my trimmed pubic hair. The cold made my little clit stick out from my wet pussy. I pinched the tiny sensitive nub between my fingers and rolled it like I had rolled my nipple. I slid my other hand through my dark pubic hair to my slit. I couldn't believe how wet I was. I had to press my fingers against my vagina for a moment before I managed to thrust two of them into my warm vagina. I arched my back and moaned as I finger fucked myself. I jerked on my clit and shivered. I didn't know if it was from the cold or my intense arousal. My clit slipped from my wet fingers and disappeared between my engorged pussy lips. I squeezed my eyes shut as I rubbed my fingers across the top of my slit. I drove my fingers deep into my pussy and moaned.

My legs were shaking by the time I felt the orgasm Steve demanded approaching. I was panting for breath. My breasts jiggled with the movements of my fingers. Every breeze across my sweaty body reminded me I was naked and masturbating in public.

My eyes flew open in panic when I heard someone strike a match and inhale slowly. My body went rigid as I searched for the source. I smelled marijuana, and at the same time, I saw the glow from a joint on my neighbor's balcony. It was Steve's stoner neighbor, Izzy. I hadn't heard any sound from his sliding door. Had he been there the whole time?

Izzy is the blackest man I have ever seen. Even though I knew he was there, I couldn't see him at first as I searched the shadows of his balcony. Finally, I made out the whites of his eyes focused on my naked body.

When Izzy stepped around a large marijuana plant and leaned against the railing separating our balconies, my fingers were still buried in my vagina. My other hand was splayed across my pussy in a vain attempt to hide my sex.

I held my breath as I stared at Izzy's grinning face. He was less than five feet away, with just a low railing separating us. He was wearing only a pair of shorts, and my eyes were drawn to his dark, muscular chest and narrow hips. He took a long drag on a fat joint while his eyes traveled over my dimly lit body. His eyes looked hungry. By now my boyfriend must know we had attracted an audience. Why else would I be starting at the adjoining balcony?

I wondered what would happen if Izzy came over the railing. Would he fuck me? Would Steve put a stop to it or would he happily watch his friend take me? I imagined the wiry Vietnam Vet bending my body over the railing and fucking my engorged pussy from behind. I imagined Steve urging him on. My fingers twitched in my vagina at the thought of being taken by a stranger in front of my boyfriend.