The first summer I worked for my family’s boarding kennel will always rest fondly in my mind. It was my first job outside of flipping burgers or delivering newspapers. It was also the first job that entailed any real authority or even decent pay. But mostly, it was that particular summer, and that particular job that enlightened me to my innermost desires.
I remember my trip home that summer, the long bus ride, the sketchy bus driver, and the long walk to the family plot. I’d already walked the 3 miles from town when the pavement ran into the gravel road that would take me home. I knew it was another mile up the road, but I could already hear the canine howls and barks from over the fallow fields. I sighed heavily, brushing my crinkly auburn hair over my shoulder, as the memories of my childhood started trickling back. I remembered the creek where I and my brothers would swim, the same swimming hole where I discovered, at the tender age of thirteen, that there were more differences between boys and girls than just long hair and privates. My brother’s teased me for my budding breasts, breasts that would grow to a generous 38DD, and my mother scolded me for swimming with boys. Later, she would scold me for more than just swimming with boys, though my brothers weren’t involved then. I walked past the old fir tree where I made my youngest brother, Luke, practice kissing when we were children. That was before football and wrestling, before he started sculpting his powerfully masculine physique. And then I rounded the bend and could see the old farmhouse I grew up in. Everything was just as I remembered it, though a little older. The chicken coops and rabbit hutches, the small garden and orchard, and of course the kennel itself. Converted from an old barn, the kennel could easily house fifty dogs, more if Dad was less humane and bunked the animals more than one to a kennel.
“Alyssa,” I heard a voice call me from the house. I looked up to see my mother drying her hands on an apron before waving to me. I waved back as I jogged toward her.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Alyssa, why didn’t you call,” she worried at me, “your father would have been more than willing to pick you up from the bus stop. The hardware store isn’t that busy this time o’ day.”
“I know, Mom,” I replied slightly breathlessly after my jog. “I wanted to walk, though. It seems like it’s been years since I walked home from town. Besides, my skin could use a little sun after being locked in my dorm studying last term.” I smiled as she brought me in for a welcoming hug.
“Well, okay then. Let me look at you, hun,” Mom said pushing back on my shoulders and looking me over. “Dang, girl, ain’t there no food at that school o’ yours?”
“I just have great genes, Mom,” I laughed, pleased at the compliment. “The freshmen twenty can’t touch me. Like you’re one to talk anyway.” Even pushing forty my mom was still beautiful. Her red hair fell to the middle of her back and was silver kissed at the temples. She kept her long legs toned with all the farm and yard work around the place. All that work must be good for the rest of her toned, tanned body as well, from her taut stomach to her still proud B-cup breasts. I mostly take after my mom’s side of the family, but for two features. My stormy grey eyes and my large breasts, those both come from my father’s side of the family. We entered the old house and the rest of the afternoon was spent reminiscing and catching up.
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Later that evening, the family was gathered around the dinner table. My father and youngest brother had returned home with big hugs for me shortly before dinner was ready. I returned the hugs and finished setting the table before we sat down to eat.
“Lys,” my father said, spooning mashed potatoes onto his plate, “your mama says you don’t know what to do with your summer. That true, young lady?”
“Yeah, Dad,” I replied, taking a sip of Coke. “I know I don’t just wanna sit around not doing anything, hut I know this town doesn’t have a job I am even vaguely interested in.”
“Why not help your mom with the kennel?” He asked, one eyebrow raised in inquiry. I mulled that over for a moment, worrying at a bite of pork and potatoes. Why not? I liked dogs, and I knew I was capable of the work. It’s not like I was going to have any serious problems with my co-worker either.
“Would that be ok, Mom,” I asked looking to her.
“Of course, honey. I could definitely use the help,” she smiled, wiping her mouth daintily. “Those bags of dog food do get heavy, and these legs don’t run like they used to. Besides, learning the books will keep your brain active, too. Keep you fit for all that college learning you’ll be headed back to come August.”
“Well, then,” I said, beaming, “Where do I sign up?”
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After dinner I excused myself to take a bath. After the long bus ride and homeward walk, I had a little grime to wash away. I changed into a bathrobe in my room, wearing only my boyshorts underneath the silk garment, before making my way to the bathroom. I spun the taps, ensuring the water was to my liking before laying out my regular bathing supplies. Shampoo, conditioner, and bodywash went on the floor next to the antique claw-foot tub. I gently placed my Venus razor and shave gel on the soap dish screwed to the shower piping before shedding my robe. I glanced at myself in the digging mirror, running my hands down my generous figure and slipping off the boyshort panties. Stepping into the tub, I closed the water taps and settled into the steaming water, piling my hair on top of my head as I leaned back.
I sat for a few moments, luxuriating as the water’s heat radiated through my body. After a few moments of bliss I picked up my bath puff and lathered up, lifting each leg slowly out the water before sitting up and washing my heavy breasts. A small sound caught my attention, drawing my gaze to the door, one arm covering my boobs instinctively. It sounded like a gasp of surprise, but I couldn’t see anyone spying on me through the old fashioned turnkey lock. I watched for a few moments before continuing to wash my body. I pulled the tub’s plug and stood, turning on the shower to wash my hair.
I squeezed a generous pool of shampoo into my hair and began spreading it into my long hair, lathering it into a frothy cap with quick, practiced motions. Turning, I was the soapy froth from my hair, gently running my fingers through the auburn strands to force the side out. I shivered as the warm water rushed over my body, tickling my sensitive nipples and I felt a rush of blood my clit sensed the enticing warmth. My hands continued over my shoulders and down my body. I tweaked my nipples, biting my lip at the rush of pleasure, before my left hand continued its passage south.
Taking a deep breath, I glanced at the unlocked bathroom door again, weighing the risk of being caught against the intense desire to pleasure myself at that moment. Watching for any sign of life outside the door for almost a full minute, I fought my base desire for pleasure and reached for my conditioner instead.
As I finished rinsing my hair for the second time, I quickly shaved my legs and took the time to shave my pussy. I normally kept a thin landing strip above my slit, but I preferred the feeling of a clean pussy under my fingers. And since I was the only one who was going to be touching my kitty anytime soon, it was my opinion that mattered.
I rinsed my body one more time before stepping gingerly from the tub, knowing from past experience just how hard the tile floor or tub edge could be. I wrapped my hair in a towel and donned my robe before gathering my shower supplies. A scuffle at the door startled me, my shampoo dropping to the floor with a clatter. Had that been a footstep I’d heard? Surely not. My father was still downstairs, my mother in the kitchen, and my brother was watching TV with Dad. Shaking my head, I finished cleaning up and padded down the hall to my room.
Closing the door softly behind me, I tossed my shower bag on the bed and slid the robe from my shoulders. I sat on the edge of my bed, watching the way my tits bounced. Roughly grasping a breast in each hand, I laid back, sighing quietly. I pinched both of my nipples simultaneously, my right hand continuing to squeeze and massage my breasts while the left slid down my taut stomach, fingers searching for my slit.
My breath hitched for a split second as my fingers rubbed over my clit before spreading my lips and teasing my moistening pussy. I slid three fingers down my slit, then back up before slowly pushing my middle finger inside myself. I held back a moan as my thumb rubbed against my nub and a second finger slid inside my pussy. I continued the fingering assault of my cunt, the ever expanding waves of pleasure radiating through my body. The waves built, and a third finger entered my cunt, tickling and teasing my inner walls as far as I could reach, finally forcing a quiet moan from my throat. I could feel the electric thrill begin running up my spine, setting off sequential fireworks and my body began quivering in the throes of my orgasm. I bit my lower lip to contain the orgasmic scream as my fingers continued plunging into my pussy, a trifecta of blissful fucking, slowing only as my orgasm began to level off.
My hand slowly slipped from between my legs, falling onto the bad next to my thigh. My breasts heaved as I attempted to catch my breath. It wasn’t best orgasm ever, but it had been a while. I smiled, the buzz of my orgasm making me feel giddy as I began to giggle. I brought my fingers up, watching my girl-cum slowly drying. This close I could smell my scent, pungent and sweet, and it only seemed to increase my orgasmic high. I slowly brought my fingers to my mouth, savoring the taste of my pussy. My first boyfriend at college had convinced me to do this once, and I loved it. Loved tasting myself on him, on my roommate’s lips, whatever tasted of my cunt I wanted to taste. I slowly pulled my fingers from my mouth, my tongue cleaning as much of me from them as possible.
The door rattled suddenly, jolting me from my bliss. I wrapped the blanket around my nude body, my heart racing. I definitely heard footsteps that time, and then the slam of the bathroom door. Had someone been spying on me, or was it just a coincidence? The thought of someone watching me brought a guilty, shameful thrill to my mind. Who would it have been? Luke? Dad? Maybe a neighbor came to visit when I’d been in the shower. It could be almost anyone, really. I chuckled as I sat back up and began dressing again for bed.