St. Chester Ch. 01

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The following story is fiction but it has a slim basis in fact. I once attended a freshman orientation session when a nun made the comment featured below about it being a shame that many undergraduates were making genital to genital contact with each other. The orientation was followed by a beach picnic but nothing like the one described here. Too bad. I wish it had been true. Not only are none of the characters under 18, but none of them even exist, except in my feverished imagination.

* * * * *

I was so mad at my parents; I didn’t even notice that a lot of the girls filing into the auditorium for freshman orientation were pretty well endowed with good looks and taut bodies. No, I was so overwhelmed with anger and bad feelings, that what should have been a highlight of my life—entering college—was looking like the beginning of a nightmare that would last two years if I got my grades up, and four years if I didn’t. Yes, here I was stuck away at a religious Catholic college until I got my act together, after which I might be allowed to attend a party school like U Miami or San José.

I don’t remember a lot of orientation, but I will always remember the talk we were given by the dean of students, Sister Anne. That’s right, Sister, like ‘nun,’ like Catholic school, like Mass and Confession, and lock the dorm doors at 10:00 on weekdays and 12:00 on Friday and Saturday.

Sister Anne might as well have been brother Sam—flat as a board with a wiry mustache that would have been admired in any barbershop. She began by welcoming us and congratulating us for going to a Catholic institution where our morals would be as important to us as our grades. Brother! She said that previous years had seem some unacceptable behavior but that she was sure we would be able to take advantages of the mistakes others had made to avoid the deadly temptations of being away from home and parents for the first time.

Why, she screamed, did we know that some students actually made genital to mouth contact with each other. Believe you me, there was shocked silence at that; Sister Anne really loved that. You could see it in the triumphant look that passed over her face. Then she leaned forward over the podium and, in a low voice shared a deep secret with us: “Some of them have even made genital to genital contact.” Well, she was sure we would be able to avoid that kind of temptation. She stood away from the podium and waved her finger at us: “Remember, children, the body is the house of the soul. Just as you wouldn’t want to live in a house that was filled with foul and odorant garbage, neither would you want to sully your soul’s house by engaging is wicked sinful acts the like of which turned Lott’s wife to salt.” Then she leaned forward to share another secret, “I’m sure this word to the wise will be sufficient.” We were so shocked we didn’t even applaud as we had for the earlier speakers.

Man oh man, I thought. It’s even worse than I thought. Sister Anne was followed by the director of student activities. He informed us of all the wonderful activities and clubs we could belong to at St. Chester. Then, saving the best for last, he told us there was going to be a big picnic at the school’s beach club and that buses would load at 1:00, immediately after lunch.

No way, I thought. I ate quickly and retreated to my room where I buried myself in a book. It was a hot book and I was thinking I could wank off as soon as the students cleared the dorm. That wasn’t to be. The floor representative came by and said, “It’s time to get on the bus.”

“NO way, dude. I’m not going.”

“Ah come on. It’s fun. You’ll like it.”

“Sure, I can drink Kool-Aid with Sister Anne.”

“Oh, she won’t be there.”

“I still would rather stay here and get ready for classes.”

“Man, you sure got the wrong idea about this school. You will have absolutely no problem with classes here. If you don’t like your grades just talk to the prof.s and they’ll change them.”

“That’s nice. Have a good time.” Even as I flipped him off in my mind, I felt a little bad. He actually didn’t seem like that bad a guy, but I was in a really deep funk and I planned to enjoy it to the fullest. The floor rep shrugged his shoulders and made himself scarce, but he reappeared with the house master moments later.

“Come on, Fred. Get your gear together. This activity is not optional; besides, you’d really kick yourself when you heard how much fun everybody had.”

Oh, well, I thought. But it wasn’t without a lot of grumbling that I grabbed a jacket and started out the door.

“You’re going to want your swim suit. There’s water skiing, wind surfing, and a lot of the kids like to play water basketball.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Okay, I get the picture.” I grabbed my suit and a towel and put them in my new St. Chester backpack, which my parents bought me at the student store so I would fit in. EeeeHa.

It wasn’t until we got to the lake and the girls started shucking their warm-ups that my mood lightened. Most the girls wore bikinis and some of them were quite scanty. bahçelievler escort No thongs, though. Sister Anne probably covered that in the female student orientation. Still, there was a lot of pulchritude bouncing around the beach and I started to sense possibilities that I hadn’t thought existed an hour earlier.

One chick especially caught my attention, maybe because she was bending over, presenting her butt to me as she struggled with some kind of gear bag. Man, I could see the shape of her pussy through the thin material of her suit. I hurried over to offer help

“Can I help you with that bag?”

“Oh, thanks. Yes. Hold the bag.” I held on while she pulled on some canvas that was inside.”

“What have you got here? I hope it isn’t your swim suit.”

“It’s a sail, silly. I’m already wearing my suit.” She looked up at me, caught my grin. “Oh, you know that.”

“I didn’t know it was a sail, but yeah, I saw you were wearing a suit. Where’s your boat?”

“It’s in the shed. As soon as I get the mast and wishbone together with the sail, you can help me carry it out, if you like.”

“I wouldn’t mind, but I’m not that strong.”

“Oh, it’s light. You’ll see.”

“That’s a boat,” I said, looking at what looked all the world like a surfboard.

“It’s a wind surfer.”

“Way cool, man. You know how to sail it.”

“Little bit.”

“Little bit?”

Before long the wind surfer was bobbing in the waves at the lake’s edge and she easily, it seemed, locked the mast in a socket and took off flying. I mean flying. The board took off like a bat out of hell. In seconds she was just a dot on the horizon, then, before I could decide whether to wait for her to return—yes, I wasn’t about to abandon her unless she abandoned me—she came flying back, did a quick 360 degree turn and stepped off in the shallows.

“Little bit?” I asked, sarcastically.

“Well, I won some medals, but I just a beginner, really. Would you like to try?”

“Sure. What do I do?”

“Here, I’ll show you”. She stepped up on the board and sailed around in a small circle, talking all the way, showing me how moving the mast’s angle steered the machine. Showing me how to walk around the mast to turn around. It looked easy. It wasn’t. I felt like a clumsy klutz. When I’d fallen off about a million times, I looked up at her. “Are you enjoying this?”

She took pity on me. “It harder than it looks isn’t it.”

“Are you mad at me, or something?”

“Naw, I just don’t get many opportunities to lord it over a guy. I have a mean side.”

“Boy, you sure do.”

She pulled the bow up on the beach and laid the mast and sail down so the wind couldn’t catch it and said, “There’s a trainer. You just need to get the knack, then it’s easy.”

“Now you tell me.”

“I’m sorry. Really. I’m not a very nice little girl sometimes.”

“Not very little,” I smiled as I said it, my eyes fixed on her nice breasts in case my meaning eluded her. “You aren’t one of those girls Sister Anne was warning us about.”

“Hey, that’s not nice.”


She demonstrated again how to steer the boat by moving the mast but it’s really difficult to do it and keep your balance at the same time. “No, no, no. Not like that. She grabbed me from behind and steadied me at the same time helping me shift my weight and suddenly I got a sense of how it worked. At the same time, my mast was getting too interested in the feeling of her boobs, which were pressing against my face as she pushed me this way and that to help me balance. I was embarrassed—surely she noticed. If so she didn’t say anything. My legs were getting weak and it wasn’t just because of the strain of balancing on the wild platform of the trainer.

“Let’s try the board again,” she said, just when my legs started to tremble.

I stepped off the trainer and then I had to figure what to do next. On the trainer I’d been bent nearly double so my stiffy was sort of hidden in the folds of my suit. But now I was erect in both meanings of the word as my cock stood out like the hour hand at 2:00 O’clock. I quickly grabbed the fold of my suit and pulled it away from my body so my cock bounced against my abdomen and pulled the material tight against it. It still made an unmistakable bulge, but at least it didn’t stick out at an angle. I was glad my parents didn’t let me buy that bikini. My cock would have been out the top.

“It’s hard isn’t it?” She said.

I whipped around. “Huh?”

“The trainer—it’s hard, isn’t it.”

“Oh, yeah.” Was she grinning? I guess not.

“When the board starts moving in the water, it’s more stable. You just have to catch the hang of it.”

In the next hour I finally did start to get the hang of it and before the hour was over, I’d actually sailed across the bay and back. I tried to make a nice landing like she had, but I lost it at the last minute and fell full length right in front of a crowd of people standing around talking to her, washing them all down with a big splash.

“Hey, balgat escort that wasn’t nice,” she said.

“I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“A likely story. Look, all these guys have been waiting a turn. I think you better give the board up.”

“Okay. But aren’t there other boards?”

“Yes, but I haven’t felt like I could set them up and watch out for you at the same time.”

“Oh, thank you. I’m sorry. I guess I’ve been monopolizing your time.”

“Hey, I don’t mind. I love turning people on . . . to wind surfing. It’s my religion.” Did she mean that as a double entendre? Naw, couldn’t be.

“Well, can I help you set up some more boards?”

And that’s what we did for the next hour. It was hot work—a lot of work—and when we were done she suggested a swim to cool off.

“You know, I don’t even know your name.”

“Oh, I’m Molly. Molly Midas.”

“Well, Molly Midas. I’m very happy to meet you. That’s sure a good name because to me you are golden.”

“Aw shucks. You can tell that after just meeting me? Or is that the line you use with all the girls?”

“You won’t believe me whatever I say, so think what you will.”

“So what is your name?”

“Oh, sorry. I’m Fred Fringle.”

“The Fred Fringle?”


“Oh, that’s just my dumb sense of humor. Don’t make too much of it.

All this as we walked toward the swimming area where spray was shooting up into the air from a wild game of water basketball, girls sitting astride the shoulders of boys, passing the ball instead of dribbling as they moved toward each basket.

“Want to play?” Molly asked.

“Sure. Do you want me to be on top first?”

“Ha, ha.” I swam between her legs and lifted her up. I couldn’t help thinking; her pussy is draped over my neck. I wished I had teeth back there.

We were quickly in the thick of things and it was some kind of stimulating because, it turns out, it was a contact sport and a lot of the contact was scantily clad female flesh bumping into male flesh. There seemed to be more contact than really called for and then I noticed something else: Several times, girls somehow lost their tops and had a hard time getting them on again. Almost like they were showing them off.

I also noticed that I wasn’t the only one with a hard-on, because the water didn’t cover our crotches, what with us jumping up out of the water all the time. There also seemed to be a lot of unnecessary hugging when girls were unseated—before they got back up. I’m not complaining, mind you.

You’re probably wondering where the priests were all this time. The only priest I know of who was there was running the water ski boat and it was gone from the dock most of the time. The other adults were up in the kitchen area where they were sucking the beer that was reserved for them. Oh, and two sisters had set up a table in the meeting room to recruit for the Cardinal Newman Club.

A combination of wind surfing and water basketball had just about worn me out when the dinner bell set up a clamor, calling us to the barbecue. I ate with Molly and learned that even though she was a freshman, she had a job at the beach club because of her special qualifications. Even though she was a townie, she was living in a dorm, so she could have the full college experience.

Something was nagging at my mind. “Molly, can I ask you something?”


“Well, I’m just blown away by all this. I’ve had so much fun with you and the rest of the guys today, but it just doesn’t seem to jibe with what Sister Anne was talking about. I mean, my parents were expecting this to be a sort of Puritan place. But is it?”

“I don’t know what you mean?”

“All that business about your body being the house of your soul and avoiding mouth to genital and genital to genital contact.”

“Actually, I didn’t get that bit. What does genital mean?”

That threw me. I looked at her to see if she was having me on. She looked back at me, her big blue eyes wide open, unblinking. Shit, I thought, how do I answer that. “Well, you know the book of genesis, don’t you?”

“You mean Adam and Eve?”

“More than that. It’s the book about beginnings. Well, genital refers to a person’s organs of beginning. You know: Genesis: Genital: Beginning new people.”


“You know, sex!”

“Oh my God. You mean that’s what she was talking about?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Well, I don’t know much about that. My parents were very strict, and the priest at our school was . . . well let me put it this way; nobody wanted to confess any of that stuff to him. What about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you had any of that gentle to gentle . . . why are you laughing?”

“It’s genital, not gentle.”

“Oh. Are you making fun of me?”

“I was just going to ask you?”

“Come on. I asked you in good faith.”

“Just what do you want to know?”

“Well . . . have you done it?”

“I . . . I guess you could say the only genitals I’ve had contact with are batıkent escort my own.” I lied.

“How many do you have? Oh, I’m sorry. That’s rude.”

“No, that’s okay. I guess it depends on what you count. I’d say three: my cock, and my balls.”

“Do tits count?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Because I did let a guy touch them once.”

“No, I don’t think they count.”

“But they feed babies, don’t they?”

“Yes . . . but they don’t make them.”

“So, what do you count?”

“I’m not entirely clear about that, but I’d say it’s limited to your . . . you know . . . your sex.”

“My vagina?”


“What about my ovaries? You counted your balls.”

“Okay, that’s fair. But you aren’t likely to have genital to genital contact with your ovaries.”

“Good point.”

Just then we were interrupted by an older guy. “Molly, isn’t it about time to put away the windsurfers?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll get right to it.”

“That’s okay. Just try to have them all in before dark.”

“Hey, Mr. Bragg, I’d like to introduce Fred.”

“Hello Fred. Have you known each other long.”

“We just met today,” I said. “Molly gave me lessons.”

“She’s gives it quite a ride, doesn’t she”?

“She’s really something, as far as I’m concerned,” I said.

“Ah, Mr. Bragg, would it be okay if we keep two boards out for a moonlight sail. We’ll put them away, but it’s a full moon and I’ll watch out for Fred. Okay?”

“I probably shouldn’t, but I’ll let you if you both wear clip on lights. And be back by full dark. It’s okay to go out in the dusk, but be back before full dark, okay?”

We quickly packed up three of the windsurfers and then took off across the bay. I was really starting to get the hang of it—well, not like Molly, but pretty good for me. But it’s hard work, you know. You are basically holding yourself up in the air by the boom, so it’s like hanging onto a pull up bar while frantically balancing your self on an unstable platform. And I was tired from a much more energetic day that I’m used to. We made one complete circuit of the lake and were at the far shore again when I begged for a breather.

We dumped the two sails and then lay side-by-side, feet in the water supported by our chests on my board. Our eyes were used to the moonlight and I loved seeing the tops of her tits being pushed out of her halter by her weight on the board. “I’ve never enjoyed myself with a girl as much as I have with you today, Molly.”

“Hey, it’s mutual.”

“I hope we can keep seeing each other.”

“If you like. I’d be happy to go out with you.”

“I’ve never met a girl who turned me on the way you do. You’re so beautiful and you’ve got a fantastic figure.”

“Oh, come on. Most guys think I’m skin and bones.”

“You’re kidding.”

“My breasts are small and . . . well put it this way, one guy said I had an ass like a guy.”

“He must have been queer. If a guy had an ass like yours, most queers would be after him for something Sister Anne wouldn’t like.”

“That’s funny.”

“I have a reputation for making jokes that aren’t funny. I never mean to but I do like to make people laugh. But sometimes people take it the wrong way.’

“I’m warned; I’ll try not to. You know, you’ve got a pretty taut bod, too.”

“I guess, if you don’t mind a total absence of muscles.”

“Well, Michael Jordan has chicken legs. I think bulky muscles are like big tits. Impressive but not very important in the scheme of things.”

“I agree about big tits. I like them just like yours.”

“How do you know?”

“Your suit doesn’t hide much.”

“That’s what my mom said. In fact, if she knew I didn’t return it she’d kill me.” We were quiet for a minute, listening to the waves lapping against the two boards, side by side. The moon was rising and in the distance we could hear two loons calling each other.

“I wonder what those loons are thinking of?”

“Probably what we’re thinking of?”

“What’s that?”

“Genital to . . . “

I started to laugh and then swallowed it. She was so right. “You too, huh?”

“I know what you’re thinking of. I saw you adjust your suit on the trainer and . . . well, let me ask . . . no, I better not.”


“No.” And she wouldn’t tell me. But later she said, “Damn!”

“What’s the matter?

“My suit came untied.”

“I won’t look.”

“Do you want to look?’

“May I?”

“Well, maybe once.” She pushed herself off the board and floated onto her back, breasts just arising from the waves that washed over her flat stomach. I was having an oxygen emergency. I pushed away from the board and tried to stroke her breasts but as soon as I did the boards started to drift away and that scared me. I’m not that confident of a swimmer. Still, I did get a good feel. Then the two of us swam quickly to capture our respective boards, and then Molly sat astride her board as she reached behind to tie her halter again. I might have fainted, but then I wouldn’t have been able to see them any more.

“Couldn’t you wait until we get back? I hate to see them covered up again.”

“Are you sure you can handle your board and . . . you know . . . “

“If I can’t then we can rethink the matter.”

“Well, it hardly seems fair. I haven’t seen your genitals.”

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