Jean - The Birth of Venus Ch. 01

Steve rapped on the glass door and pointed at his note. He had underlined the words, "Just do it." When he saw he had gotten my attention, he turned on the outdoor balcony floodlights. He rapped on the glass and pointed to the note again.

Izzy saw the note and grinned. "Come on, Jean. You can do it. You were almost there."

I stared at Izzy and shivered. I dragged my fingers slowly across my clit. Izzy didn't move. I slid my fingers almost all the way out of my engorged pussy before slowly sliding them back inside. Izzy took another long drag on his joint. His eyes were fixed on my glistening sex. I shuddered and took a deep breath. My fingers moved a little faster. Still, Izzy stayed on his balcony. The interruption hadn't taken even a minute, and I was still intensely aroused. I continued staring at Steve's neighbor as my fingers flew across my clit. The whole time I masturbated for the two men, Izzy behaved like a gentleman.

A sudden gust blew my bleach-blond hair around, and I shivered. My thighs were wet with my juices and covered in goosebumps from the cold. My body started shaking, and the shaking moved to my pussy. I screamed as I came hard. My eyes were shut tight as I concentrated on the intense pleasure rocking my body. I leaned against the railing for several minutes as I experienced one aftershock after another. My body shuddered every time I moved the fingers in my vagina. I thought I heard cheers from around the courtyard.

Finally, I opened my eyes and saw Steve walk out onto the balcony with the jug of cheap wine we had been drinking. He sat on one of the chairs and pulled me into his arms. He gave me a deep kiss. I looked around and noticed several apartments were now lit.

Izzy said, "Anyone want some weed? I always like to smoke after sex."

Steve said, "Thanks, I'd love a hit."

Izzy climbed the railing and sat in the chair on the other side of the small glass top table. He handed Steve the joint, and my boyfriend gave it to me after taking a toke. I took a long drag and leaned forward to pass it back to Izzy, then I laid back against Steve for warmth and protection. My boyfriend's erection had escaped from his boxers when I'd leaned forward. It was now pressing between my bare ass cheeks. God, I felt wicked.

I grinned and said, "Well Izzy, did you enjoy the show?"

My neighbor laughed. "Jean, you were awesome. I love to see sluts enjoying sex. It took all my willpower to stop myself from climbing over the railing and fucking you senseless. I kept telling myself, Steve is a friend, and he might not be happy if I bent his girlfriend over the railing and buried my cock in her tight pussy."

I shivered as I listened to Izzy confirm my suspicions that his desires matched my fantasy. I picked up the jug in two shaky hands and took several long swigs of sweet Chablis to calm myself. I chugged the wine too fast, and I dribbled some down my chest. Izzy gazed at my breasts as cold sticky wine dripped from my nipples. I set the bottle down hard and wiped my lips with the back of my hand. Fuck it. Fuck you, Izzy. How dare you call me a slut? Who says only men are allowed to have any fun?

"Well guys, the show isn't over."

I raised my hips and slid Steve's cock into my wet pussy. I smiled at Izzy as he watched me grind my sex slowly on my boyfriend's cock. Steve's hands found my breasts, and I moaned as he lifted them and played with my nipples.

Steve said, "I just love Jean's perky breasts. They're just the right size, and her nipples are very sensitive."

My hands were on the seat of the chair supporting my weight as I slowly raised and lowered my hips. Steve's cock felt so good, I forgot how bad I was being. Izzy leaned across the table and held the fat joint to my lips. While I inhaled, his black hand caressed the pale breasts that Steve had praised. I gazed at Izzy's hard body through half closed eyes and arched my back to press my breasts into his grasping hands.

Izzy said, "You're right. Her breasts are fantastic. Better than I imagined while I was watching her masturbate."

Our black neighbor put out the joint, and his hands returned to my breasts. He pulled and twisted my nipples while my boyfriend's fingers slid between my legs and rubbed my clit. My ass slapped against his thighs as I began bouncing faster. The scent of warm wet pussy filled the night air.

"Oh, God. Oh God fuck me, fuck me, fuck me..."

I was panting hard by the time my pussy clenched on Steve's cock, and I had a mind-blowing orgasm. My boyfriend grunted, and he shot his seed into my womb.

Afterward, the three of us sat on the balcony talking while we finished the jug of wine and smoked a couple more joints. I was pretty fucked up and half asleep when Steve startled me awake.

He whispered in my ear loud enough for our guest to hear, "Izzy looks lonesome. Maybe you should sit on his lap for a while."

I stared at Izzy as I tried to understand what possessed my stupid boyfriend to suggest such a shameful act. The wiry black drug dealer barely cracked a smile as he waited for my response.

My body was shaking as I said, "Steve, I don't think that's a good idea. I've already gone way too far tonight."

"Come on Jean, no one likes a tease."

I stood up and stomped over to the door. I slammed the sliding glass door open.

"Fuck off, Steve. No one likes an asshole either."

I headed for the bathroom and locked the door. I took my time in the shower. After blow drying my hair, I wrapped my body in a towel and went into the bedroom. I was just as happy Steve wasn't there. I needed time to think while I sat on the bed and brushed my hair.

I knew my head was badly fucked up after a long night of drinking cheap wine and smoking some pretty heavy weed. Even so, I couldn't believe what I had done. I'd never masturbated in front of anyone let alone an audience that might have included several neighbors as well as Izzy and my boyfriend. A tear slid down my cheek. I was raised to be a good Christian girl, but all it had taken was a little encouragement from my boyfriend to get me to masturbate on the balcony. After that, things went from bad to worse. What had I been thinking of to ride Steve's cock while his black friend mauled my breasts? Was it because Izzy had pissed me off by calling me a slut? If anyone ever called a man a slut, the guy took it as a compliment. Men called women sluts to shame them and put them in their place. However, when I thought about how Izzy had said it, he had made the word sound like a compliment.

I was embarrassed to admit to myself, that it was Izzy I had been thinking about while I rode my boyfriend's cock. Not only was the muscular black man assaulting my breasts, but in my fantasy, he was pounding his hard cock into my eager pussy. That only made it worse when Steve suggested I sit on his friend's lap. What the fuck was my asshole boyfriend thinking? Were there no limits?

A few minutes later, Steve came in and knelt in front of me.

"Sorry babe. Maybe, I had too much wine and weed. Anyhow, I know I fucked up. I saw how you were looking at Izzy and thought you wanted him. I didn't want to get in the way."

He laid his head on the towel covering my lap, and I stroked his hair.

"Steve, you should have asked before you offered me to a stranger. I'm not some kind of dumb sex toy you can pass around to your friends anytime you get the urge."

Steve was quiet for several minutes while I played with his hair. I couldn't get my mind off of Izzy's smile and his rock-hard body.

Steve didn't move his head as he said, "Would you have sat on his lap if I'd asked nicely?"

I swatted his shoulder. "Well pervert, I guess we'll never know."

"I'm sorry I ruined an amazing night. Can you forgive me for being an asshole?"

"Steve, most of the time you're a great guy. I guess I can forgive you for making the occasional dumb guy move."

"Does that mean we can have some makeup sex or is that a dumb guy thing?"

I laughed. "OK, but I want you to bend me over the bed and fuck me hard from behind."

Steve looked me in the eyes and gave me a big shit eating grin. I wondered if he knew my fantasy about Izzy?

I melted in his arms as he kissed me. I dropped the towel and turned towards the bed. I bent over and leaned on my forearms. Steve grabbed my hips and slid his cock up and down my moist slit before driving it into me. God, he fucked me hard. I managed not to scream Izzy's name when I came. I wonder what Steve was fantasizing about? He sure was aroused. We fucked three more times that night and slept between bouts of intense sex. We rose late, had sex, ate a big breakfast, had sex again and went for a swim.

Ever since that episode, Izzy has been very touchy-feely. If Steve and I are in the hot tub, Izzy will join us. I've given up on moving the stoner's hands from my body. Steve just laughs if I complain. He says the old vet is harmless. Izzy likes to drape his arm around my shoulder with his fingertips grazing the tops my breasts or moves in to clasp my leg high on my thigh. I shouldn't complain too much since we haven't paid for weed ever again.

So, I wasn't surprised when I reached the bottom of the stairs with Steve helping to hold down my unruly dress, to hear Izzy say he wanted a going away hug. I set my purse down and wrapped my arms around him. I was shocked when he planted his lips on mine and thrust his tongue into my mouth. His hands slipped under the back of my dress and cupped my bare ass cheeks. I almost slapped him when I pulled back from him, but then he said something sweet.

Izzy said, "If that asshole Steve dumps you, just remember I'll take you in anytime. I love you Jeanie, and I'm going to miss you like hell. You made my summer."

I laughed. "I'll miss you too, Izzy. I'm sure I'll never forget you or our special night."

I turned to my boyfriend and said, "Come on, Steve. We're running late."

I was overheated by the time we reached the carport. The hot weather was the second reason I had worn the flimsy summer dress. The temperatures in Southern California were forecast to be even hotter than the Bay Area.

Steve drove a sexy Fiat 124 Spider. I flashed my tiny red panties as I dropped my ass into the low convertible. I tugged my short dress down to cover the tops of my thighs. After I was settled, I took my sunglasses and a scarf for my hair from the glove box. We missed every light as we drove from the apartment to the 101 Freeway. At one light, I noticed Steve staring at the side of my dress.

I said, "What's so interesting?"

"Did you really wear this dress in high school?"

"Of course, but only when it was hot."

"Did you wear it with a bra?"

"What are you getting at? Of course, I wore it with a bra in school. I was completely flat until my junior year, so it was a padded bra if you must know. The dress also had two more buttons at the top, so it was fairly modest. I stopped wearing the dress after I got breasts and grew four inches. It was too short for high school after my growth spurt, but I'm not in high school anymore. So just tell me what you are staring at."

"One second. Could you lean forward for me?"

I said, "You're impossible," but I leaned forward as requested.

"Now lean toward me."

I began to get an idea of where Steve was going.

Steve said, "I thought so. I can see most of the sides of your beautiful breasts through the large armholes. When you lean forward, I can even see your nipple through the gaping armhole. When you are sitting up straight, the top of your dress doesn't hide much either, but when you bend over, I'm surprised your breasts don't fall out. It doesn't take much of a lean for me to see your nipples down the top of your dress. Damn, that is one hot dress. Oh, did I mention the dress is almost transparent with the sun behind you?"

"Steve, I wore the dress for you. I wanted you to remember me with fondness."

"I promise I'll remember you in this hot dress when I'm jacking off at night. I hope your uncle appreciates it. If he's any kind of man, he's going to be all over you."

"Seriously, I think I can handle some sixty-year-old guy. The most I should worry about is a little mild flirting."

"More likely you should worry about giving the old man a heart attack."

Another reason for wearing this dress was that it was responsible for my discovering that I had an aunt and uncle living in Southern California. While I was searching for clothes in my mom's attic, I came across an old box of letters. Most of them were boring letters from my older brother to my mom. A single tear-stained letter from Cathy Brown in Santa Teresa blew my mind. It was addressed to my mom from her sister. I had never heard anything about an aunt from my mom or my grandparents while they were alive. What I could read of the smudged letter, indicated that my aunt had been ostracized from the family after marrying someone her parents didn't approve of. She was heartbroken that her sister had also rejected her. My aunt acknowledged that there was a twelve-year difference in their ages, but she begged for understanding. There were no other letters from my aunt in the box.

I made a couple of phone calls to Santa Teresa and found the address and phone number for Michael and Cathy Brown. After she got over her shock, my aunt was overjoyed to hear from me. When I told her, I was going to be in Northern California for a couple of weeks, she insisted I fly down for an extended visit before returning home. I accepted her offer and changed plane reservations. I didn't mention my plans to my mom. I was excited to meet my aunt and uncle, but I was also nervous. If the visit were a disaster, I would leave as soon as possible and never mention my folly to my mom. Still, I wondered, what had my aunt done that was so terrible to be rejected by her family?

At the next light, Steve smiled at me and said, "Babe, you look like a movie star."

Ok, I was wearing oversized dark glasses, a colorful scarf and a dress that showed lots of cleavage, but calling me a movie star was just plain flattery.

"What's up with calling me, 'Babe'? You've been doing it since I got here. It doesn't sound like you."

"Well Babe, it's the in thing, and you're definitely my babe."

"I don't remember being asked if I wanted to be your babe."

"Ok, Jean, will you be my Babe?"

I may not have taken Contract Law yet, but I knew a contract needed a period of performance. "How long do you want me to be your Babe?"

Steve responded at once. "Forever Babe. I want you to be my babe forever."

I smiled back at my boyfriend. It was as close to a proposal as I was likely to get this summer. It was even better than what he said a few nights ago when he had asked me how many kids I wanted. I only had one brother and replied I wanted two kids. Steve had two brothers and two sisters. I expected he would want more than I did. I was pleased when he said two or three kids would be ideal. I didn't tell him how happy it made me to talk about family size. Since I was stuck in law school for another two years, it was too early to press Steve for a marriage proposal.

Still, we were in a lot better place than last year, when I left for law school, and he headed to California to find a job. A couple of weeks before he left, he said he was looking forward to dating hot California chicks. When he said we should be free to date other people, it felt like a knife in my gut. The fact that he made a long-distance call to me every weekend after he got settled in California suggested his desire to date hot California girls had met with failure. Even though Steve's request that I be his Babe forever had left me ecstatic, I wasn't ready to break our agreement to be free to date other people. I didn't want Steve feeling too comfortable.

I said, "Just to be clear Steve, I'll be your Babe forever, but two years is a long time before I get my law degree. I have plenty of time to date some hot East Coast gentlemen."

The look on Steve's face was priceless, but I felt maybe I had gone too far. Men are such sensitive creatures.

"It's Ok, Steve, I'll be back next summer. I promise I'll be your Babe forever."

I glanced at my watch and said, "Damn, we're running late."

"We're still early, Babe. Just to make you happy, I'll make up some time on the freeway.

We finally reached the 101 Freeway and the wind noise made talking difficult. Steve weaved in and out of light traffic for maybe ten minutes before we slowed to a crawl. By the time, we got to the accident it was on the shoulder, but everyone had to rubberneck.

Everyone except for some trucker who honked his horn. I looked up to see him leaning out of his cab to stare down the top of my dress.

The trucker yelled, "Hey Babe, why don't you ditch that loser and come ride with me. I promise I'll give you the ride of your life."

Steve grinned at me and said, "See, I told you. Everyone is saying, babe."

I said, "Yeah, even assholes."

I glared at Steve and glanced at my watch again. Before I could say anything, we were passed the accident. By the time, we parked at the airport I was in full panic mode. The ticket line took forever. I checked my bag, grabbed my ticket and we sprinted for the gate. Back in the 70s, there were no restrictions on access to the gates. Steve had my carry-on, and I had my large purse. We still had a way to go when they made the last call announcement for my flight. By the time, we reached the gate I was winded and sweaty. The gate attendant told me the flight was boarded and asked me to hurry. I gave Steve a quick peck on the cheek as I grabbed my bag.

I yelled over my shoulder, "I love you."

I heard Steve yell back, "Love you too, Babe."

I was on cloud nine, but I only had a second to savor Steve's statement that he loved me. The last two weeks had been the best time of my life. I knew that there would be more summers with Steve. If my visit to my aunt and uncle went as well, this would be the best summer ever.