After a bitter winter comes the welcome arrival of spring. Daffodils sprout from the earth. Azelea bloom on branches.
And in the warmth of the sun’s rays, lasses shed their clothes.
Nubile creatures in short dresses expose their shapely legs. Tight shorts hug their asses. Their breasts bulge out of their tank tops.
One tanned blonde coed (and her sizable chest) in particular captured my attention. I mentally stripped her of what little clothing she was wearing, then fantasized about spiriting her to a storage room and screwing her senseless.
One journalist put it succinctly: “It’s the Horny Time.”
The Horny Time is defined as “the period of time between early spring and late spring where everyone, everywhere wants to fuck and fuck a lot.” It has a venerable history. Ancient spring festivals (such as Beltane among the Celts) celebrated fertility with orgiastic rites. Maggie Wells captured the seasonal drive to copulate in her poem “Sonnet from the Groin”:
Crazed with spring all I want to do is fuck....
Oh! To be flying
above a mattress, screaming not with hate
but with throaty mating only trying
for the peak and pinnacle of frolic....
Time to bloom.
So I carved out some time and called Joyce. “Natalie” was available. Joyce assured me that Natalie was an attractive college girl. And willing to please. I arranged an afternoon frolic.
Upon entry to the apartment, she greeted me in a sheer red robe and her bra and panties. She immediately led me to the bedroom. Our chit-chat was brief. (She said she had been enrolled at a local Catholic college.) But I wasn’t there for conversation.
She suggested that I “get comfortable” and lie on the bed. I quickly did. She removed her robe joined me on the bed. I kissed her neck before my mouth made its way down to her perky breasts. I didn’t waste any time in removing her panties. She conspicuously spread her legs. I got the hint. My mouth worked its way down her stomach to her shaved pubic region. With my fingers I spread her lips apart and my tongue darted into her pussy. I ate her out for some time before it was time for her to reciprocate. She massaged my balls before she took my cock in her mouth. She was a gifted fellatrix.
She paused, then asked if I wanted some more or if we should “just get to it.” She slipped on a condom and moved on top of me, slowly lowering herself onto my cock. (She was tight.) She placed her hands on my chest and was soon vigorously riding me, the mattress squeaking at her exertions.
“How would you like to come?”
I wanted to take her from behind. We went at it doggy style (I admired her fabulous rear end as I pounded her from behind). I held out as long as I could before I unloaded.
She retrieved a towel to clean me up. I put my clothes back on.
“I hope you visit me again,” she said.
I exited the apartment complex into the spring sunshine. As I walked along the tree-lined parkway, I caught sight of a scrumptious young blonde sashaying down the sidewalk in a short blue sundress. Her big breasts protruded from the top. The movement of her hips suggested sexual motion.
I was already horny again.
Lutheran Guilt 