A surprising and passionate tryst between two 18-year-olds following a school band exchange leads to an annual tradition of sexual romps for nearly 40 years!
Part One
My sister and I, despite our being very close, have always had vastly different interests and talents. Shelley is artsy and musically inclined. I always excelled in the academic subjects at school, but things like art and music were not on my radar. Shelley was a fixture in the high school band as a saxophonist while I never played a musical instrument in my life.
When I, Connor Kirkland, was in my last year of high school in 1979-80, Shelley was in her first year. The music program at our school was very active thanks to two dedicated teachers who were very enthusiastic about their jobs. They organized numerous “band exchanges” every year with other high schools across the Canadian province of Ontario and even as far away as Maryland in the USA. The way these exchanges worked was that the band members from our school would travel in buses to another far-off community where they would be the houseguests of band members there while they performed concerts. Then the parents of our school’s band members would reciprocate the hospitality. Accordingly, every few weeks the guest room in our house would have a musician from another school in it. I don’t recall a single bad experience with a band exchange pupil.
One weekend we were hosting a girl who lived in a city three hours away. Her name was Kathleen Gamache. At 18, she was my age. She played the flute. To be perfectly honest, Kathleen did not make much of an impression on me as she was a bit on the quiet side. Kathleen was slightly small, and had straight, black, shoulder-length hair. At best, she possessed an average figure. (As a typical 18-year-old male, I would have remembered anything extraordinary in that department.) Kathleen was polite and well-mannered, as all of these band exchange participants always seemed to be. She was our guest for three days. Then the band exchange ended. She went back to her hometown with the rest of her school’s band, and I never expected to see her again.
Two weeks later, when I came home from my last high school class, I brought in that day’s mail from our box as I always did. No one else was home yet. I did a quick sort of the mail to see if anything had arrived that bore my name. I subscribed to quite a few sports magazines at the time, so it was not unusual for me to receive periodicals regularly. However, today there was a letter addressed to me, which was a little bit out of the ordinary. My name and address had been handwritten on the envelope. There was a return address in the top left corner, but without a name. I quickly grabbed the household letter opener to see who was writing to me and why. It was the surprise of my life.
“Dear Connor,” it began.
“This is a letter from Kathleen Gamache. I was the flute player from Windsor High School who stayed at your house for a band exchange not long ago. I’ve never written a letter like this in my life before now, but I just have to contact you. I know I could phone you, but I decided to put my private thoughts on paper so I could take my time and think about what I needed to say to you.
“I’ll get straight to the point. I was too outwardly shy to say this to your face when I was a guest at your house, but this is the truth: From the very first second that I laid my eyes upon you, I knew I had to have you! You are tall and handsome and totally fuckable! I spent the three days in your house fantasizing about
making love to you over and over again. I nearly walked into your bedroom one night when you were asleep to hop into bed with you, but I was just too shy to do that. Instead, I just thought about having sex with you while I played with my pussy.
“Connor, I want to smother you with passionate kisses and licks across every inch of your body from head to toe—and I mean every inch! I want you to fuck me hard and often and come inside me. I don’t care if I get pregnant. I just want to feel your hard dick thrusting wildly inside my pussy. I bet you have a big dick, don’t you? Do you get the idea, Connor? I want to fuck your brains out—and I want to do it soon. Can we do that, Connor? Please say we can! Let’s see if we can arrange a meeting somewhere. I have a few ideas about that. My pussy is waiting for your big, hard dick!
“I don’t know how long it will take this letter to arrive at your address, Connor, but please call me soon after you get it. I have my own private phone in my bedroom that only I ever answer. My number is atop this letter. The best time to call me is after 7 p.m. on weeknights. I cannot wait to hear your voice again. Yours with total lust, Kathleen Gamache.” She ended the letter by drawing several hearts in red ink beneath her name.
Needless to say, Kathleen’s letter captured my full attention. I had never gotten anything like that steamy missive before or any letter like it since it arrived on that day in May in 1980. According to the postmark, it had taken eight days to arrive—which was typical of the slow speed of Canada’s postal system. I decided to call Kathleen that night from a pay phone as there was no way I was going to make this call from home. (Besides, it would be a long-distance call, and it would appear on the monthly phone bill.) After dinner that night, I took a pocketful of coins—and Kathleen’s super sexy letter—and strolled with excitement to the telephone booth outside the convenience store located three blocks from my house.
When I phoned the number atop the letter, Kathleen picked up on the first ring.
I said, “Kathleen, it’s Connor Kirkland, I…” That’s all I got out of my mouth before Kathleen totally took over the call.
“Connor!” she squealed with great excitement in her voice and then began to babble. “I knew you’d call! At least I’d hoped you’d call. Oh, thank you, so much! It’s wonderful that you called me. Thanks! Oh, Connor, I meant everything I wrote in my letter. Every last word! I so want to fuck you. Let’s figure out a way to get together so we can fuck like crazy someday soon! I have an idea…”
I had to admit Kathleen’s plan was well thought out. She had an old school chum named Jennifer who had moved to a city a short bus ride from mine. She would make plans to take a Greyhound bus after school one Friday to stay the weekend with Jennifer. On Saturday morning the girls would tell Jennifer’s parents they were coming to my hometown on a city bus to do some shopping at a few renowned specialty stores. Jenny would indeed do that, but Kathleen would get off at a bus stop near a motel that was famous for having hourly rates. That was where I would meet her for four hours of fun. (Yes, Kathleen told me to book a motel room for four hours of sexual frolicking. I had to love her enthusiasm and her optimism about my stamina.) We chose the specific Saturday. I booked the motel and called her back to confirm I had completed my assignment.
“That’s great, Connor!” she told me. “I’ll meet you outside the hotel around 2 p.m. on that date. Assume everything is going according to plan unless you hear differently from me. I can’t wait to ride your cock and fuck you for hours on end!”
I told her I was counting the days. When I hung up the phone, I noticed I had a raging erection making a tent within my jeans.
Part Two
When that memorable Saturday arrived, I did not have access to the family car, so I just took a bus to the infamous seedy motel that had been used for sexual trysts by countless couples for at least 25 years. I supposed it was unusual to arrive at a motel without a car, but I hoped the clerk wouldn’t notice or care.
I started to wait for my visitor near the lobby of the motel. It suddenly struck me that this might be some elaborate prank to humiliate me, but thankfully that was not the case. The very next municipal bus to arrive at the stop discharged a familiar teenage girl with long, straight black hair. I immediately recognized her as Kathleen. She saw me very quickly and ran toward me. I suppose she was as thrilled that I showed up as scheduled as I was that she did! I was at least six inches taller than Kathleen was, so she had to leap to give me a first-rate kiss. This was definitely no prank, but it was certainly curious that I was passionately kissing someone who seemed to have fallen head over heels in love with me without much interaction at all.
I noticed that Kathleen was carrying a small suitcase as we, hand-in-hand, walked to the front door leading into the motel’s lobby. The room had been booked, but the clerk looked at us with concern etched on his face. “I hope at least one of you is 18 years old,” he said. “I can’t rent rooms to minors.”
“Oh, I’m 18, sir. I’ll show you my driver’s license,” I responded.
I began to take it from my wallet, but the clerk waved his hand at me and said, “I’ll take your word for it. I’m supposed to be tough when it comes to minors renting rooms here. You look okay to me.”
I paid for the four-hour rental after which the clerk gave me a room key. With a smile on his face, he cheekily said, “Have fun!” Somehow, he knew we wouldn’t be studying algebra.
“That’s the whole idea,” I replied.
Kathleen took me by my hand—and she led me to Room #16. I sensed she was going to be the aggressive one in the lovemaking. That was okay by me. I was happy to be reaping the benefits of being her dream guy. Furthermore, Kathleen seemed not so plain as she was when she was a band exchange houseguest. The more I studied her physical features, the prettier she became to me.
We opened the door. Kathleen said, “Connor, undress and get on the bed while I change my clothes in the bathroom. I have a surprise; I brought something sexy to wear. I hope you like it.” She went into the bathroom and shut the door behind her. At this point my sexual anticipation was high. Kathleen could have changed into a frogman’s wetsuit, and it would have turned me on.
As instructed, I disrobed and relaxed on the bed for my paramour. It was worth the short wait. Kathleen emerged in a sexy red peignoir that didn’t leave much to the imagination. I could see the areolas of her small breasts and the pubic hair on her vagina.
“I borrowed this from Jennifer’s sister—who doesn’t know I borrowed it!” she said with a girlish giggle. “Do you like it, Connor? I hope it makes you horny.”
I directed Kathleen’s attention to my penis which was well on its way to full erection status. “It’s certainly not hurting your cause, Kathleen,” I sincerely told her.
“Well, off it goes!” she said, and slowly removed the sexy garment and let it fall to the carpeted floor. Standing 10 feet away from me, Kathleen fondled her titties, which were small for an 18-year-old girl, and then fingered her pussy.
“Mission accomplished, Kathleen,” I said. “Yes, I am totally ready to have sex with you. Come to bed.” To emphasize my point, I patted the mattress as an invitation.
Kathleen was beside me inside of two seconds. We embraced with her in charge. Kathleen lied on top of me as we kissed. She was quite good at it.
“I hardly slept at all last night, Connor,” she told me. “All I could think of was jumping in the sack with you. Now…here I am. I am going to please you; I guarantee it.”
At this point Kathleen reached down and grabbed my rigid shaft and began to fondle my penis with delicate and highly sexy strokes. I had never experienced such a strong erection. I felt like my dick could burst at any moment. She slid down further in order to place it in her warm mouth. She took it like a pro. “I’ve dreamed of this for weeks,” she said in a sultry whisper.
I figured I wouldn’t last too much longer with Kathleen setting a swift pace, so I suggested she ought to “climb aboard and ride me.” Then I paused to ask, “Should I put on a condom, Kathleen? I brought some with me.”
“Don’t you dare!” she told me softly. “I want to feel your raw dick deep inside my pussy. Besides, I took the appropriate pill.”
Without further hesitation, Kathleen straddled me, placed my penis in her heavenly cunny, and began to gyrate on it clockwise and then counterclockwise. To change the pace, she occasionally bounced with joy. She was loudly wailing with pleasure which completely drowned out my own moans of sexual ecstasy. This girl was as good at fucking as she had said she was in her letter!
My hands were free, so I proceeded to fondle Kathleen’s undersized breasts. She had the kind of small titties that were extremely appealing to me. When aroused, they were pointy. Her entire areolas jutted towards me. I couldn’t wait to suck on them and give them the total attention they deserved.
“They’re not that big, are they, Connor?” Kathleen said of her breasts. “I’m sorry about that.” She was seriously apologizing.
“They are fantastic,” I assured her. “I can’t wait to give them a good sucking and fucking and then come all over them.”
“Well, we can do that right now, Connor,” she suggested.
“Too late!” I informed her. “I’m about to come in your pussy right now.” I uttered a major groan and let loose. Kathleen felt my strong ejaculation fully too and let out a girlish sigh in response to being filled with a load of my hot jism. My dick wasn’t close to getting soft, so I rolled Kathleen onto her back so that I was on top of her. I continued to thrust my dick as deep as it would go inside of her.
I needed a breather, so I stopped ravishing my 18-year-old lover and pulled out. A drip of white goo seeped onto the bed. It was rather sexy to see. “Kathleen,” I told her, “I wish you had sneaked into my bedroom when you were a houseguest. You are a terrific fuck. I really mean it.”
“Thanks, Connor. Your dick is fabulous,” she cooed. “It’s everything I hoped for and more.”
“It’s just six inches, Kathleen, honey,” I told her. “I’ve measured my erection before. Hey, maybe your being in bed with me caused it to grow bigger.”
“I hope it stays big,” Kathleen commented as she pointed to the clock radio that was beside the TV set. “We still have three hours and 40 minutes to go. Our fucking has hardly begun!”
On that daunting note, I embraced her, and we spent a good 20 minutes or so just kissing and fondling each other in a very loving way. I focused on her pointy boobs and did give them the thorough licking and sucking I had promised her. They were truly wondrous things to enjoy.
Kathleen decided to give me another round of fellatio with her pussy in my face. I got the idea right away and started licking it. It was already thoroughly moist from being fucked earlier. It didn’t bother me in the slightest that her cunt’s pleasant taste that I was enjoying so much was at least partly the taste of my ejaculate.
Kathleen’s fine oral skills got me hard and ready for our second round of screwing. “Fuck me from behind, Connor!” she instructed. “Fuck me as hard as you can!”
I took it as a challenge. I stood behind the end of the bed which was already in disarray from our boisterous sexual activity. Kathleen stuck her bum in the air, and, without any warning, I rammed my dick back inside her vaginal hole. I grunted like a caveman as I shoved it in and out with a purpose. (The purpose was to please this little vixen!) My groin rhythmically slapped against Kathleen’s butt cheeks.
“Oh, yeah! Fuck me, Connor. Fuck me hard like I know you can!” she commanded. I grabbed her waist to make my thrusts go deep. Then I launched my second cum blast before I realized I meant to shoot it on her delectable, pointy, sexy breasts.
“Damn! I meant that one for your tits—not your pussy, Kathleen.”
“Not to worry, Connor. You still have about three hours to make it right.”
“Correction!” I said. “It’s we—not me. We still have three hours, Kathleen. This is a two-person project!”
Amazingly we did spend nearly the full four hours in bed doing what nature intended males and females to do. We discovered that our favorite sexual position was when we were lying on our sides with me behind her. Our size difference made it perfect for my fucking and playing with her sexy tits simultaneously. When I felt my third ejaculation approaching, I quickly pushed Kathleen to the mattress and placed my penis between her boobs and fired cum shot number three. It was nowhere near as powerful or sizable as the first two were, but my love juices splashed over her lovely boobs. The moisture made them glisten.
Kathleen kept her word about licking every inch of my body. I especially liked when she focused on my balls. That little bit of heaven helped me get hard for the fourth time. (It’s certainly great to be 18!) I did come, but the amount of jism was minimal—maybe half a teaspoon. It struck her without warning on the chin.
“Hey!” she said in mock anger. “Give a girl some warning!”
“My balls were nearly empty,” I alibied. “I didn’t even think you’d notice that I came again.”
We spent the last 30 minutes of our rental time showering together. It’s always tremendously fun to shower with a girl. It’s an erotic way to fittingly wrap up a busy afternoon of lusty sex.
We then got dressed, vacated the room, and returned the key to the main desk. “Please come again!” said the clerk politely as we headed out the door.
“Hey! That’s exactly what you said to me, Kathleen!” I joked. We both laughed, but my pun seemed to go over the clerk’s head. I don’t think he was an Ivy League scholar.
As we waited at the stop for our two respective buses to arrive, Kathleen made an excellent suggestion: We should do what the clerk said. She insisted we ought to come back, but not just once. We should meet at the same motel on the first Saturday in May every year—forever—and enjoy a four-hour festival of fucking!
That plan sounded vaguely familiar. “Oh, you mean like in the play Same Time Next Year,” I said. Kathleen gave me a quizzical look. She had never heard of it nor seen the 1978 movie version starring Alan Alda and Ellen Burstyn.
Without ever contacting each other in advance, Kathleen and I did exactly that for the next 38 years, despite both of us being married to someone else. For the sake of tradition, most of the time I was able to reserve Room #16. We never met elsewhere on purpose or by accident. Nor did we even keep track of each other. (I didn’t even know her married name, for example.) For all I knew, she could have moved to Timbuktu and specially commuted to the sleazy motel on the appointed date each May. (I’m sure she wondered the same thing about me! For the record, I never left the city in which I was born.) On two occasions, Kathleen showed up at the motel visibly pregnant. Both times she succinctly explained, “A promise is a promise.”
Our last tryst—our 39th overall—was on May 5, 2018. It was just as exciting for me as a 56-year-old as it had been when I was a horny teenager in 1980. Moreover, I was still able to produce admirable ejaculations as a middle-aged man. When I unloaded a doozy onto her breasts, Kathleen sweetly commented, “Connor, it’s good that somethings never change!”
Kathleen never showed up at the motel on Saturday, May 4, 2019. When I came home utterly disappointed, I quickly did an internet search on her name. I found out that Kathleen Gamache Davidson had been killed by a drunk driver in an automobile accident in November 2018 at the age of 56. There was a photograph of her accompanying the article, so there was no doubt it was my paramour. According to the news story, the mishap had occurred only about two miles from where Kathleen lived—a city about 25 miles from where she had attended high school. She left behind a husband and three adult children.
For a few weeks, I pondered whether or not I should attempt to contact Kathleen’s family to express my condolences. Given the nature of my relationship with the deceased woman, for Kathleen’s sake, I eventually decided against it. I never told another soul about us.