I met her in a record store. She was the type of girl you’d expect to find in a record store in Greenwich Village — big black shoes, long hair tinted a hue not found in nature, ripped blue jeans, a Queensryche t-shirt and rings on her fingers, in her earlobes, and through her nose. Not the type of girl I usually fall for, but on this particular day Cupid must have been feeling unusually mischievous, because I felt his arrow go straight through my heart.

Her nameplate read Chandra, an appropriate moniker. It was an exotic name for an exotic girl and had a touch of East Indian mysticism. Her complexion was white as chalk, and her eyes were like two black holes in space, openings to vortexes where men like me slowly spiraled to the far reaches of infinity.

Her large dark eyes regarded me as I gave her my purchases to ring up. Her nose crinkled in amusement as she looked them over: Liza Minelli and the soundtrack from The Little Mermaid. I’m sure these were a little tame for her tastes. But she took my money and rang up the sale and bagged my CDs and handed them to me with the receipt, all very proper and correct, except that in the space of thirty seconds I had fallen irretrievably in love.

I walked out of the store without saying anything more than “Thank you.” Numb, I wandered to the subway and went home, stripping off my clothes and jerking my painfully rigid erection while conjuring up the beatific vision of Chandra’s face. I came powerfully, and then dreamt of her.

A few days later the memory of her was fading, and I’m sure would’ve vanished altogether if I hadn’t been on the subway car that Chandra happened to step onto. She sat down across the way from me, her nose buried in a paperback edition of Siddhartha. A sense of panic overwhelmed me. I was being given a second chance by the love gods, I couldn’t just sit here and blow it. I had to say something. Anything! So I timidly asked her if she happened to work at a certain record store.

She looked up and pierced me with her black eyes. “Yes, I do.”

“You sold me some CDs the other day,” I continued. “Your name is Chandra, right?”

She smiled a bit nervously. “How did you know that?”

“It was on your nametag. I thought it befitting that such a striking woman should have such a beautiful name.”

Now she smiled in earnest, but was obviously shy, for a lull struck. I had to press on.

“How are you enjoying that book?” We then started talking about Herman Hesse and Steppenwolf and philosophy. She was a part-time student of Eastern religions at a city university and was working nights and weekends at the record store. The fact that we were a completely mismatched couple didn’t seem to bother either one of us. And when I handed her my business card before I left the train she took it eagerly.

I fantasized about her for a week and was disappointed that I hadn’t heard from her. Just as I was about to give up hope she called and asked me to accompany her to a concert. I said yes quickly, not thinking about what type of concert it was to be. But I didn’t care, just so long as I could be with her.

So Chandra and I went to a triple-bill of “thrash metal” at CBGB’s. She was having a great time listening to the music, I was happy just watching her. We went to a few more East Village nightspots before we found ourselves sharing a joint hidden in the shadows of a small street called Shin-bone Alley.

It was a hot summer night, and I was perspiring like mad. But that didn’t stop Chandra from nuzzling my chest, taking small bites as she opened my shirt. Her hands were fumbling with my fly, and before I could focus on what was happening she had my hard-on out in the open air.

“Nice big cock,” she mumbled before lowering her mouth onto it. I banged the back of my head against the wall as she slurped up and down, skillfully sucking me, her fingers squeezing my balls. A thin shaft of moonlight illuminated her beautiful face bobbing up and down on my dick, and before I knew it I shot a heavy stream of come down her gulping throat.

“Mmm,” she said, licking her lips clean. “That was good. I want some more. I want to get naked and fuck you.” I was more than agreeable to this, but since I live in New Jersey and Chandra, well, I wasn’t sure where Chandra lived, logistics were a problem. I wasn’t going to fuck her in this alley.

She grabbed me by the hand and bade me follow her. I did, through streets that zigged and zagged until we came to a four-story building somewhere in the Lower East Side. When she started climbing up the fire escape, I started to question what we were doing.

“Sssh!” she hissed. “I know someone who lives here, but I don’t want to wake them up. Wait till you see the roof!” So I dutifully and quietly climbed behind her, enjoying the way her ass looked in her torn jeans.

The roof was ordinary in most ways-a flat stretch of asphalt, with TV antennas, vents, and clotheslines.

What was unusual was a large sofa sitting off to the side, covered by a canopy.

“It’s the gazebo,” Chandra said, laughing. Apparently her friends in the building liked to spend pleasant evenings outdoors, making love. This was their makeshift passion pit al fresco.

Chandra took me by the hand and led me to the sofa, which was covered with a satin sheet. “Classy touch,” I said, before she kissed me hard right on the mouth, her questing tongue practically wiggling down my throat. “Shut up and take off your clothes,” she said.

We spent the next thirty seconds or so disrobing, hungrily eyeing each other’s burgeoning nakedness. She was exquisite. Her breasts shimmered in the moonlight, her pubic bush was a dark red, her thighs were thin and pale, the faint blue veins visible beneath her translucent skin. I took her in my arms and we flopped onto the sofa, rubbing our bodies against each other as if it were some ancient rite.

I was so excited I simply sank my cock into her cunt without much fan-fare. She was tight and wet, and I couldn’t help but cry out at the perfect fit. She wrapped her legs around my torso and gripped my back tightly with her fingers as I slammed in and out of her. A soft breeze blew by, making the canopy snap, the air-cooling our hot, sweaty bodies.

I built to an explosive climax and then held off, letting myself come back to earth before starting up again. Chandra took this opportunity to flip me over onto my back and ride me, smashing her hips against me. She was close to coming, and wanted to do so as fast as possible. When she came she went rigid on top of me, her hands balled into fists which she beat against my thighs. She struggled mightily to remain silent, but couldn’t help but emit a barely audible hiss of ecstasy, like a volcano about to erupt. We relaxed in each other’s arms as the first orange and yellow streaks of the sunrise broke across the rooftops of the city. It was the first time I had ever made love outdoors, and I was hooked.

I had another chance to fuck Chandra outdoors when she invited me to go sailing with her. I couldn’t have been more surprised, as it turned out her father owned a boat in the Hamptons. I had seen her only at night, and what with her milky-white complexion, I had some vague suspicions of closet vampirism, but apparently she liked to sail and wanted me to come with her. I was more than glad to.

We took the long ride on the Long Island Railroad and went to the marina. Chandra knew what she was doing, so I sat back and watched as she prepared the vessel to go to sea. She wore a black, one-piece suit, the flimsy material allowing the pointy and erect nipples of her nascent young breasts to be clearly visible. My suit was not adequately disguising my arousal, and after we went out a few miles Chandra sat in my lap and ground her ass against my bulging member.

What exquisite rapture! The sun wasn’t too hot, and several puffy white clouds provided intermittent shade, so Chandra and I felt comfortable stretching out on the deck, kissing and fondling. After many happy minutes of this she stood off and slipped out of her suit. Then she lay down and softly requested that I eat her cunt good.

Her pussy lips were fat and puckered, and I dove into them as if they were a sea of champagne. I licked and lapped and fingered and tongued her until she writhed her way through more than one orgasm. I then rose above her, my erection imitating a sundial, and presented it to her. She wearily took it in her mouth and let me fuck her orally, the sensations of an exquisite blowjob magnified by the warmth of the sun on my back and the sounds of the ocean in my ears. It didn’t take me long to erupt, and I filled her red-hot mouth to overflowing, the remainder trickling down to her chin. She smiled sweetly at me. We were both exhausted, but I had enough strength left in me to slowly kiss every square inch of her body, starting at her toes and finishing at her earlobes. It was a long, hypnotic process, and I felt as I were being transported to another world, a special place that only Chandra and I occupied.

When I finished nibbling her ears I slid my revived hard-on into her and fucked her slowly and gently, words of endearment murmured as softly as the waves lapping against the side of the boat. We came together and drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, awakening with a slight sunburn.

Chandra and I are thinking of new ways to enjoy the great outdoors, and are looking forward to going hiking in Vermont next month. Whether it’s the city, country or on the water, we have a great time fucking without a roof over our heads.