This is the story of Jocelyn McCambridge. That’s not her real name, of course, but will serve for the purposes of this story. It is essentially true thought the names have been changed to keep me from being sued. Jocelyn, or Josie as she was known to her friends, was special to me. Had circumstances been different, we might have been a hot item, perhaps married! But, things weren’t different and we are friends. You may wonder, “Do I love her?” and my response would probably be, “Yes, but more agape than erotic.”
We had grown up together in the same community and our parents were good friends. Although we were the same age in years, Josie was years ahead of me in maturity and a girl with strong moral principals and good instincts. She excelled academically and was naturally beautiful with a grace that I admired. She had a solid plan for her future and her life had meaning.
I, on the other hand, just seemed to remain a child. I fumbled my life away in school where I made barely passing grades and I had no idea what I might do with my life. I was no thing of beauty, awkward both physically and socially, had no respect for myself and the image I presented was no thing of beauty. As a teenager, I recognized those traits that made Josie superior to me and I hated my inept self.
Josie was the epitome of everything I admired in a girl. She was my first real love and a hopeless infatuation, or perhaps I should not say, infatuation since even today, that love persists. Perhaps I adored her and worshiped her aura. Perhaps it was just boyhood frustration.
Had I even allowed the concept of screwing her to enter my mind, I would have entertained it with disdain. She was far too pure for such a mundane action.
By the time I had matured and found direction in the world, our paths had parted and Josie became a distant memory. I had finally grown into a man. My life had purpose and I no longer had to apologize for my appearance.
But this story is about Josie.
Josie went from high school to the state university to live in residence and study for her degree in literature. As she departed the home and community where she had spent her entire life, she took with her the morals and ethics that she had learned as a child and which served to guide and protect her against the perils of the new and unfamiliar culture of the university.
As she moved into her dorm room and met her roommate she faced this new environment for the first time. She determined to live in the culture but not of the culture. . .
Then, the slow degradation of her moral and ethical standards began as her fresh, young mind listened to the professors argue against those guides. Her roommate had become a close friend and when Josie learned that she was crewing her boyfriend she was shocked. Slowly she accepted her roommate’s situation and accepted it. When the roommate came home from a date, drunk and disheveled, she accepted it. Then, as her friends congregated in her dorm room for a party, she had drunk wine with them.
It wasn’t until her Junior year that Josie began to separate herself from her old standards as she fell into the trap of reasoning with those professors who respected nothing – if it felt good, it must be good. She accepted the reasoning of one who said simply, “Why not live as a bacchant and enjoy the sinful life as tomorrow you may die and that’s all there is.” She accepted it even as she felt the guilt from abandoning her earlier beliefs, but how could she deny the superior knowledge of learned professors.
Then, she’d met Jake. Jake was an avowed adherent to the lifestyle of Bacchus and he lived comfortably without conscience or caring. His confidence was easily mistaken for maturity and his affable nature mistaken for sensitivity. His ‘affaires de coeur’, though numerous, were all covert and more than a few college girls had succumbed to his wiles.
Jake had met Josie at a dorm room party and immediately set his sights on another conquest. His polished manner and confidence had appealed to her from their very first meeting and she was soon open to his advances.
For Jake it was an easy conquest. Josie had never had a steady boyfriend and little experience in that area – she was completely taken.
After three dates at the local bar, Josie felt secure with Jake. She reveled in his strength and his maturity. He was the man to take her virginity and make her a woman. This thought was never a sudden revelation but rather a compilation of various thoughts and emotions which all seemed to come together slowly over several days.
Then, on Saturday night, after a few drinks at the bar, Jake had taken her to her dorm room door and kissed her. It was a long, lingering kiss and Josie responded awkwardly; then, with passion as his tongu pressed hers in her mouth. The thought came to her again, “This is the man to make me a woman.”
Then, she opened the door to her room and bade Jake enter. There would be privacy as her roommate was spending Saturday night with her boyfriend as always and this was the opportunity they needed. They kissed again as Josie moved to get comfortable on the bed. As she positioned herself for what ever might happen, she felt the knot of fear in the pit of her stomach. She felt a momentary flash of guilt.
Suddenly she realized that her blouse was gone and her bra was open. Things were moving much too fast for her and again she felt the knot of fear. “Stop,” she cried and Jake halted and moved to kiss her again. It was a slow lingering kiss that led to Jakes hands on her breasts.
Josie felt the pleasure of his touches and slowly adjusted to her situation. When he kissed her breasts, she cried out and as he continued to suckle them she moaned.
With each new sensation, she felt the fear in her stomach disappear – after all, it was Jake doing it to her and he wouldn’t hurt her, she reasoned. When Jake moved to remove her jeans and panties, she raised her butt and assisted him.
Then, Jake quickly dropped his clothing and moved against her as the knot of fear returned. She saw the massive cock that Jake was sporting and wondered if she could accept it into her vagina without injury. She wondered if she could match him with sexual prowess. She wondered if her deflowering was going to be painful. The knot of fear continued to grow and she cried out again, “Stop.”
But Jake didn’t stop. He continued his conquest as he placed his fingers over her labia and gently caressed his way into her vagina. He moved and caressed and spoke soothingly as Josie again felt the extreme pleasure that emanated from her pussy. As she lay, enjoying the sensations that Jake’s fingers were evoking from her groin, the knot in her stomach abated and she felt at ease again.
When, Jake sensed that Josie was ready, he moved over her into the missionary position and prepared himself for his entry. The move was sudden and Josie felt the knot of fear again. This time more real and more demanding than any before. She cried out, “No. No. Please. . . . . I can’t do this!”
This time, Jake did not hesitate. He had invested weeks into the conquest of the girl under him and he would not be put off by her protestations. He moved forward and felt his crown enter her vagina. Below him, he saw the look of terror in Josie’s eyes.
But for Jake, he had a fixed and steady purpose, i.e., to bury his dick in this virgin. He pushed and felt his cock slid all the way to the hilt. He felt elation! He had just taken another cherry! Another conquest. Never mind that the girl, now woman, beneath him lay in stark terror.
But, the action wasn’t over yet. Jake would not be satisfied until he had planted his seed in her belly. He moved and began the natural motions of sexual intercourse as his cock slid back and forth in Josie’s vagina.
Josie, her initial fear somewhat abated and her knowledge that she had taken the massive prick all the way, began to feel tremors of pleasure. She began to move with him to increase her pleasure.
Then, it was over as Jake spurted his load of semen into her belly. Josie felt his discharge and sensed the conclusion just as she was beginning to feel heightened pleasure. She cried out, “Wait. . . . .,” as if there was even a chance of that.
Jake lay with her for only a minute or two before getting up and going to the bathroom; then, dressing and after a brief kiss, departed.
Josie saw Jake once more after that night and it was a simple tryst for the purpose of sex. With a condom, this time, it brought even less pleasure to her than previously. As Jake took his hurried departure after their act, Josie began to see him as he really was and she no longer wanted any part of him.
From Jake, it was only a matter of a couple of weeks until Josie had taken another lover who proved to be even less satisfactory to her. After the act he had suggest that she try the cigarette that he had rolled and found the pot to have a comfortable effect on her. It was on their second attempt at fucking that night, with Josie high on pot, that she experienced her first orgasm.
Of course, as Josie got deeper into the counter-culture, her grades suffered; she lost weight and the sparkle had gone from her smile. She struggled even as she drifted deeper into her abyss.
When she graduated from the university, she had lost all drive and all ambition. Life was simple with poor living quarters, bad food, worse sex and lots of pot along with pills which seemed to keep her going.
When a bus appeared and the guy that she had been with for the past few days announced that he was going to march on Washington, she had accompanied him. At night the bus parked and the occupants sat around a campfire, sang songs, engaged in group sex, drugs and political diatribe.
It was in a small midwest city that Josie realized that she was pregnant and when she made her plight known to the group she was traveling with, she was driven off the bus and left alone, penniless, without friends and in need of medical care. She contemplated her options – there were none.
Shortly, as she sat on the curb of the slum section of the city, a girls approached her. Josie recognized her immediately as a prostitute and prepared to shun her; then, she she realized that she was in no position to shun anyone. Perhaps the girl might help her to find a John who would pay her enough for food and a fix. . .
The girl spoke to Josie in a friendly manner. “You look like you could use some help,” she said and Josie responded, “Yeh! I’m a little down right now. Know where I can get a fix?” The girl simply said, “Come with me. It’s a long walk.”
An hur later, they were at a homeless shelter and The girl had introduced Josie to a woman who seemed to work there. The woman said simply, “When was the last time you’ve eaten?” as they walked to the back of the shelter and into a small cubicle where there was a bed and a few amenities like soap and toothpaste. Josie couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. She knew only that she needed a fix. . . .
Suddenly, she was very tired. She trembled uncontrollably. She ached and she found herself wet with sweat. Surely she could find some pot somewhere. . . . . Ten, she slept.
When she awoke, the cubicle was dark. The lights were out in the hallway and all was quiet. She arose from her bed and walked to the front desk where she was met by another woman who asked, “Are you Josie?” and when Josie had replied in the affirmative she said, “Leila said you’d be hungry when you awoke. She left a sandwich for you.”
Josie took the sandwich, made no effort to thank the woman who provided it, ate with gusto and drank then pint of milk as though she hadn’t eaten in days. . . and indeed she couldn’t remember for sure if she had. Then, she returned to her bed and lay awake in the darkened room. She was sick. She ached. She as sweating profusely and her clothing was saturated. She contemplated death! She didn’t remember at what time sleep came.
It was 5:30a.m. when the lights went on in the hallways and the shelter filled with voices. As Josie was still adjusting to the voices in the hallway, a single voice addressed her sternly. “Josie, Get up! We’ve got a lot to do today.” Breakfast was at 5:45.
As she was finishing breakfast, Josie was again accosted by the woman who seemed to be her mentor. “Come with me. We’ve got to get you cleaned up.” the voice said. Two hours later, Josie was showered, primped and dressed in simple, clean clothes. She had her hair brushed and combed and for the first time in a long time she took an interest in her appearance. Her own clothes were being washed and dried.
Then, back in her cubicle, she was again sick. Her clothing was soon soaked in sweat and her body shook with tremors she couldn’t control. She was sick. She no longer wanted to live. She only wanted to die.
A few minutes passed and another woman, a doctor, came and examined her. “You must get this woman to the hospital immediately was all she said.
By nightfall, Josie had been diagnosed, mal-nutrition, dehydrated, drug withdrawal, pregnant and in the advanced stages of gonorrhea and a renal infection. Once in the hospital, the doctors, with a good diagnosis to work on, began a series of life saving procedures.
For a week, She lay quietly in her hospital bed and as she did, her old standards began to re-assert themselves. She became introspective and, seeing the error of her ways, began to develop a new strength. The time in the hospital was a time of healing for the heart and soul as well as the body.
Then, back at the shelter, she began to seek some sort of gainful employment so that she might improve her lot in life. She kept to a careful diet, exercise and the drugs that would eventually cure her of her diseases.
At six months, her badly abused body gave up her unborn child. It came suddenly as she felt the death within her happening as for the first time in months she felt grief. She cried and hurt and felt pain as a healthy outlet for that grief. It was the beginning of her re-entry into society.
It was some time after her miscarriage that Josie landed a job punctuating and editing technical copy for a trade journal. Though the job paid poorly it was a necessary step towards her eventual self-sufficiency. As she excelled at her job, she found promotions and pay increases that were sufficient to allow her many of the nice comforts in life. She had leisure time.
Although Josie’s bad years were behind her, the scars remained etched on her memory and she remained very much a loner, choosing to live a solitary life over the dangers of maintaining friendships as she had done during her younger years. In the community of people that she associated with she had become well respected and highly thought of as she had many acquaintances and no close friends.
With success in her work and spare time to do as she wished, she turned to creative writing where she might live out the pleasant fantasies that crossed her mind. She wrote for her own amusement at first. Then, having written a novel that she thought was especially well done , she submitted it to a publisher for possible publication under an assumed name – Jacque Joseph!
By the time she was thirty, her books were being purchased all over the world and she was becoming wealthy from the income off her writing. Recognizing her potential, she quite her job as a text editor to devote her work to writing. She moved to a small mountain community in Colorado among a colony of artists and writers where she could concentrate.
The books continued to sell; first ten books; then 20 books and thirty books. Josie, content with her life, wrote in the solitude of the mountains and left only occasionally to attend literary functions, book ‘signings’ and various promotional activities. Having completed her obligations, she returned to her mountain home where she wrote, exercised and maintained herself – she was alone!
It was as I was browsing in a bookstore for some reading material to take with me on my flight back home from Asia that I saw Josie’s picture on the cover of her latest novel on display at the counter. I recognized her instantly, older and possibly sadder than I remembered but I was sure it was her. Then I read the name of the author – Jacque Joseph! I bought the book.
On the trip I read the novel and since I have little interest in novels I read only to find any indication of Josie McCambridge in the work. I watched for the way she worded her sentences and such indications as might arise. Then, after hours of perusing her work, I could find no substantial indication it was the same woman. As I laid the book aside I noticed on the fly sheet a short biographical sketch and in the sketch the words, “graduate of the University of. . .” and I was sure.
By the time my flight had landed in Chicago, I had made up my mind. I would go and visit her! The fly leaf had told the name of the village in Colorado where she lived and I would go there. So I did.
As I approached the village in my rental car it was overcast and raining, a drizzle really, but uncomfortable and I felt the need of coffee and a second breakfast. My plan was to stop at a local café and get my refreshments; then, ask for any information on the whereabouts of Jacque Joesph.
My options were simple. There was a single café in the village and I entered.
As I walked through the door, I saw her immediately. She was seated alone at a table near the window, reading the morning paper. I approached her. . .
“Josie McCambridge, do you remember me?” I queried. She looked up and after a few seconds she smiled and responded, “Charlie______, Of course I remember you.” and it was like nearly thirty years had passed and we were friends again.
Of course, our experiences in life had matured and we spoke freely as adults. We laughed at our youth and I told her of my first love, of my youthful fantasies – how I had adored her and worshiped her and felt so inferior that I could never approach her. We laughed at those childhood memories and bonded as we had been in our youth.
Then, Josie’s attitude changed. She became serious. “Charlie, I’m not that young girl that you fantasied about. I’m not worthy of such praise.” and she went on to tell of her college years and her life of sex and drugs and perversions. . . . I listened, stunned, in silence and felt a sudden knot in my stomach. I struggled to accept what I was hearing.
Then, as I grasp the full meaning of what she was telling me, I felt a great sorrow – not for me but for her! As she completed her story, I said simply, “Sounds like you screwed up. We all do from time to time.” It seemed inappropriate as I said it but it was my best effort. Josie smiled and I suddenly knew it was appropriate.
Then, it was my turn to tell of my life as Josie guided the questioning. I explained that I was an engineer, a startup engineer for a major oil company. I traveled a great deal and had no roots. I had no wife or children and I had no real friends since I was seldom in one place long enough to make them. “Do you get lonely,” she asked.
“Come home with me Charlie. Let’s laugh and be happy as we were so long ago. Let’s forget all those things that came later.” Josie spoke. As we left the café, I realized we had missed lunch and that it was beginning to snow. I drove us the mile, or so, over secondary road to her home and parked in front of the small log house which was nicely landscaped and well maintained. In side, it was nicely furnished in rustic style; yet, somehow feminine! It spoke of Josie’s nature.
I built a fire in the fireplace and Josie prepared an afternoon tea as we talked about nothing in particular. I looked around and noted two bedrooms, one her bedroom and the other with a desk, books, a computer and obviously her office. The big room served as the living/family/dining room and the remainder the kitchen and bathroom. The house was solidly built.
Then Josie came and sat on the sofa, next to me, and served the tea. Our talk slowly turned serious, more intimate and I was as though we were eighteen again. Josie was the same beautiful girl I had adored and I was the same inexperienced kid. We were friends. . . .good friends!
Josie was kind to me. She worked at being the girl I had once held in such high esteem. She worked at showing those virginal qualities we had known; yet, they were never overly obvious. We prepared dinner and after the dishes were cleared, Josie brought out a bottle of brandy. “For you, I don’t drink alcohol.” she said.
The brandy remained untouched as we sat on the sofa and talked. Hours passed as we left our position only to stoke the fire and add kindling. I took Josie’s hand and held it. As we sat, hands gently caressing each other, Josie looked at me. Our eyes met and I saw what I had yearned to see so many years ago. We kissed.
As we sat kissing, caressing and loving each other I felt only pure passion- unhurried and fully requited. We talked and giggled and loved with our hearts and minds. Of course, the evening had grown late and I suggested that I still needed to get a motel room so perhaps I should be going.
Josie looked me in the eye and I saw something that said she was disturbed. “Don’t go Charlie. Spend the night with me.” Then, something seemed to require her to add, “If you want, you can sleep on the sofa,”
Outside, the rain had turned to snow and increased in intensity. The temperature had dropped well into the single digits. Had I not already made up my mind, The weather might have had some influence. “I like it here.” I said.
Again, we returned to our loving and Josie said, “Let’s go to bed.” and a few minutes later, we were in the big master bed, under the big down comforter; me with only my boxers on and Josie in her bra and panties. We snuggled together for warmth and soon took comfort from each other. We slept. . .
It was shortly after sunup when I arose in the frosty bedroom and went to the fireplace to rekindle the fire and develop some warmth. Josie lay asleep under the down. Then, with the fire blazing I returned to the warmth of the big bed.
Soon I lay half awake and rapidly drifting off to sleep as I felt Josie stir. She accidently touched me on the thigh and I was instantly aroused. Then, I felt Josie’s body quicken next to me. I kissed her as I took steps to keep my arousal away from her.
As we kissed, I felt her lips part and her tongue engage mine. She drew her body closer under me and I felt her breasts under her bra. Again, we drew closer and I was no longer able to hide my arousal. Then, the bra which had hidden those exquisitely formed breasts was gone – I wondered briefly how it had happened.
Soon my fingers were busy fondling those breasts that I had coveted in my youth. The sensation was taking my passions to new heights. When I kissed and suckled them, the pleasure continued to mount. “Do you love me Charlie,” Josie asked and I replied something innane like, Yeh!”. “Really,” she continued and I finally recognized the seriousness of her question. “I’ve loved you and adored you and worshiped you since we first went to kindergarten together.”
Suddenly, the love making took on a new intensity and a sense of urgency pervaded our aura. I wanted Josie as a woman. I wanted to plant my seed in her belly. I wanted to take her passions to the ultimate. I wanted to inflict pleasure such as she’d never known.
Whether it was my passions or hers that sparked the increase in our arousal I couldn’t say. Josie not only responded to my every move but seemed to initiate moves of her own. My hand moved slowly across her belly and on to her pudendum; there to minister to her waiting pussy. They found fresh lubrication and spread it evenly over her inner labia and then up to caress her clit as it emerged from it’s sheath.
I played with her only long enough to insure she was properly lubricated; then, in response to my own urgent needs I moved over her. Josie moved under me and willingly into the position for my entry. “Make it good Charlie,” she cried as I moved to enter her.
As I pushed forward I felt my cock enter the warm, velvety depths of her vagina. It was a feeling like no other and I moved slowly, savoring each sensation. Then I felt the ripples from her muscles around my tool and her raising her ass to meet my thrust.
We moved in perfect union, coordinated by our common thoughts as we looked into each other’s eyes. Time was no longer relative; it may have been a millisecond or an eternity, as we reveled in each other. It was the culmination of a lifetime of experience as we shared our thoughts and feelings through our eyes and body language.
After some considerable time, I felt the unfamiliar tension in my groin. I was going to come and I spoke quietly, “I’m gonna’ come.” I felt Josie’s body quicken in response to my words and then I released my ejaculation into her waiting belly.
We lay together, still joined by my now softened tool, and kissed and cuddled as we still took pleasure from each other. “Was it good for you?” she asked and I replied, “It was the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” “Did you like it?” I asked and she replied, “You were the best. I didn’t know it could be so good.”
An hour or two later, the house was warm but the fireplace needed fresh fuel and I arose reluctantly to rectify the situation. Then, as I made coffee, Josie came and stood beside me. As she looked up at me with tears in her eyes, she said, “I wish we had done that way back when we were just kids. . . it might have been so different.”
Life was good as we continued with our time together. The sex grew better with each occasion. We bonded in body, mind and soul! A week passed, then two and we were deeply bonded. Then, as we contemplated the rest of our lives, it became evident that there were problems. I would be expected to be in Texas in another week to undertake a project that might last three months. Josie’s writing was behind schedule. We were pat the age to raise a family.
So, after much discussion we decided that we would simply remain committed to each other. When our lives permitted, we would live and love together and when we were apart, we lived as we had for so many years.
It’s not a perfect solution. I miss her terribly when we’re apart. Still, it’s better than not having her at all.
– The End –