During my senior year of high school, I’d turned 18. So by the time summer hit, I was already a legal adult. Of course, I’d naturally been looking forward to being a grown-up. More, though, I had been anticipating that summer. I wanted it to be epic!

My excellent grades had gotten me a scholarship to a good college. My higher education future was pretty well mapped out. But that summer I didn’t have academia on my mind. I was all pumped up to go to a resort 40 miles away on the coast for the next few months.

The resort was a kind of go-to place for high school grads in our town who wanted to make some fast money. The place always needed extra help in the summer. The resort also had a delicious reputation as somewhere that an eager young buck could work all day and party all night — and encounter plenty of vacationing women who were looking for a fling.

The rep of the place was legendary. And no doubt the myth was overblown — but you couldn’t have told 18-year-old me that. I’d been dreaming of going all spring.

I went to my parents and told them my plans. I can still feel the anticipatory grin that stretched my face as I made the first true independent decision of my lifetime.

“Sorry, Nigel. But no,” my mother said.

Just as vividly, I remember how crestfallen I felt when they explained, rather gently, that they didn’t think it was safe. I had never been away from home for any extended period. If I wanted a job, there were plenty in town.

Their decision devastated me. I think I said about five words total to my parents during the following week. It was so unfair! But eventually, I figured out in retrospect what they were truly afraid of: that I’d stay on at the resort and forget about going to college. I suppose there was a slim chance that might have happened — but it was a very slim chance indeed.

Mostly — and secretly — I had wanted to go to the coast to get laid. Those leftover fantasies still twirled in my head that summer, but they were colorless, unrealized dreams.

So, instead, I pouted away the summer, went off to my new school in the fall, and became an academic success all over again. I got the education I needed to secure myself a very good job. While at school, I also matured sexually and got myself plenty of pussy. I met women who were into threeways, had my first anal experience and got my cock sucked so much I couldn’t walk across the quad without seeing two or three chicks who’d energetically swallowed my jizz.

All in all, it worked out brilliantly in my favor.

So why was I now, several years later, thinking of taking a sabbatical from my job and sneaking off to that same resort’s cattle call to look for work?

Maybe because the past is never completely done with us — especially if there’s lingering disappointment. And despite my success, I still wondered what that one special summer might have been like if I’d been allowed to pursue my dream.

I needed a redo.

Fortunately, I had enough clout with my company to leverage a sabbatical. Back at my condo, I changed into comfy beach-bum wear, packed a light bag, arranged a ticket to the coast and lit out.

Soon, my old excitement was in me again. I was unmarried and not in any kind of serious relationship. Being away from my job, I felt freer than I’d been in a long time. That sense of liberty buzzed inside me. I saw everything in sharper focus, like the whole world was magnified for me.

That exhilaration naturally had a sexual component to it. I felt as horny as hell on the flight, as well as anxious. But that nervousness only increased the energy humming within me. My cock threatened to tent my baggy shorts. I hoped the man sitting next to me on the plane hadn’t noticed. He probably didn’t as he’d fastened his gaze resolutely to his laptop’s screen for the entire trip.

It occurred to me on the cab ride along the coast road that I didn’t really know how — or if — the place and its clientele had changed.

It also occurred to me that showing up there by way of a $60 cab ride from the airport was out of character for the type of person I was attempting to portray. I had the cabbie let me out and walked the last few blocks in the heat, so I’d look a little more grungy when I arrived.

Luckily, the vibe was the same as when I’d previously fantasized about working there. A cluster of prospective employees gathered at a small building. We filled out applications. I was aware that I was the oldest, but I wasn’t ridiculously old for the job — though I was definitely overqualified.

The interviews were quick. They needed people for general maintenance. I told the woman behind the desk, “I’ll muck out the stables if you want.” I got hired on the spot.

Twenty minutes later, I was working.

The exhilaration stayed with me. The sun was bright, the sea air intoxicating. The resort wasn’t too hoity-toity, and I liked my coworkers, who were a rambunctious lot. One, a woman named Beth, said to me, “We’re getting together after shift. Come along.” She was nice-looking. I thought I saw a sparkle in her eye for me.

In the late evening, I clocked out. The experience was so unlike my actual job, but in good ways. There was no pressure, no need to think, and the environment was fun. I already felt like I was fitting in.

The get-together was in an old cabana that guests didn’t use anymore. Beth welcomed me when I showed up. More people arrived, and she slipped away. But I promised myself I’d catch up with her again.

I mixed and mingled. I told nobody my real backstory but listened attentively to everybody else’s. They were full of youthful exuberance, quick with grins, laughs and torrents of foul language. I had a great time.

At some point, I ducked out for some air. The stars blazed overhead. The guests were back on the resort grounds. The surf lapped the beach. I wandered out onto the sand, absorbing everything. I felt tension easing in me that I hadn’t realized was plaguing me.

I stopped at the crescent line the waves had left in the sand and gazed out on the undulating ocean. I saw a shape emerging from the water. A figure glistening in the starlight was coming more or less toward me. That was when I noticed a towel spread out on the beach a couple of yards away.

It was a woman, striding up the mild slope. Wet hair clung to her. She moved with such natural grace. She was also totally — and gloriously — nude.

My running away might startle her, I thought a little inanely. So I stood rooted there as she came closer. I couldn’t tell if she’d seen me. Her gait didn’t alter.

She was gorgeous. Granted, the romantic heavenly light and exotic setting would have given anyone’s appearance a boost. But this woman was model-hot. Her breasts were ample, and her legs swung smoothly. A surge of desire hit me, seemingly as strong as the waves slapping the shore.

She stopped short of her towel. Something in her posture told me she’d seen me.

“Hello there,” she finally said in a level voice containing a purr of humor.

I quickly responded, “I’m sorry. I was just out walking, not looking for naked women.” I winced at my own words, then hastily added for some reason, “I work here. At the resort.”

She made no move to cover herself. She was near enough that I could see her prickled flesh and her stiffly erect nipples. But I could only dimly make out her face, which nonetheless gave the sense of being as elegant as the rest of her form.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

Was she was going to report me or something? I decided not and answered her question honestly.

“I’m Karla,” she responded, tacking on her room number — like it was her last name. “I am rather tired from my evening dip. But if you’re interested — and your duties permit — do stop by my room tomorrow evening. Say around ten? I hope to see you there.”

With that she strode forward again, going past the towel and coming boldly right up to me.

“Ah, yes, I see you are interested.” With that, she reached out and softly batted my crotch with her fingers. My cock, which was seriously tenting my shorts, pulsed in response to her contact. I hadn’t even been aware of sporting such a blatant hard-on.

After that, I did turn and go. But I was ablaze with lust, my mind churning with the next night’s possibilities. I repeated her room number in my head like a mantra. I didn’t return to the employee gathering. Beth, I felt sure, would manage just fine without me.

The next day I worked like a plow horse. The resort was a big and busy with lots of moving parts. I wondered how many of the younger employees around me had come there from my hometown.

Finally, the evening rolled around. Beth accosted me in the hallway outside the staff quarters. She boldly pushed up against me and gave me a sexy, pouting look.

“Where’d you disappear to last night? I was hoping we could...” She let her words trail off, an unfinished sentence brimming with possibilities.

Beth was attractive, but the image of Karla walking nude out of the frothing surf in the starlight had burned itself into my brain. I planted a kiss on my colleague’s forehead and slipped away.

By the time ten o’clock arrived, I was anxiously second-guessing myself. I knew what Karla had said — but had she meant it? Maybe she was just some bored guest playing games with the help. Had she even given me the right room number?

This wasn’t the confident attitude I brought to my real job. These were the worries I might have had as an 18-year-old. Somehow I really had gone back in time! I grinned at this notion as I walked up to Karla’s room. Excitement buzzed in my bones, and my cock was already twitching.

I knocked. After an excruciating pause, the door was answered. Karla stood there.

I’d seen her naked. What could top that? But she was dressed in true finery, an elegant dress, hose, heels and jewelry. She flashed me an assured smile.

I was still dressed like a beachcomber.

“Are we going somewhere?” I asked, my voice catching.

She put out a hand with lacquered nails and drew me inside, shutting the door behind me. She oozed a kind of grandeur. This was her at her totted-up best. But why put on this display for me?

She answered like I’d asked the question out loud: “I want you to know what you’re getting.” She twirled out ahead of me, giving me a full look at her. She was upscale. She wanted me, a resort worker, to appreciate the class of woman I was about to nail.

With that she undressed. The whole ensemble came off, and desire crackled through me. She had a big room with a big mattress. She stood beside the bed with her skin gleaming and her body as perfectly molded as I remembered. With her hands on her hips, she waited.

I flung off my rags and went to her with my cock bobbling stiffly ahead of me. She didn’t act the least bit aloof now. I was suddenly in her arms. Her plush tits were pressed to my chest, and my cock was rubbing against her tight belly. Her mouth came for mine, and her kiss was hungry and urgent.

Still standing alongside the bed, our bodies ground together. The feel of her flesh was exhilarating. She was so smooth, but so firm. She squeezed my ass as I manhandled her tits. Her nipples stood out like bullets. Her body trembled as her tongue tangled crazily with mine.

We tumbled together onto the bed. Lust nearly consumed me. I was as alive with physical passion as any young buck. I broke our kiss and sucked her stiffened nipples. She responded gratifyingly, arching her back and making mewling sounds.

Karla might’ve been high-end, but the woman obviously liked down-and-dirty sex. When I nibbled her nipple, she bucked and howled. Her flailing hand caught hold of my oak-hard cock and squeezed it fiercely. She started pumping my shaft, and pleasure wracked my being.

I licked the soft undersides of her breasts, and she liked that, too. Then I was moving further down her body, following my instincts. I flicked my tongue over her navel, to make her squeal, then I shifted down between her legs. I kissed her silken inner thighs, breathing in the sweet aroma of her aroused pussy.

By the time I brought my lips to her wet snatch, her body was quivering. She humped up hard against my face as I lapped hungrily at her folds. I parted her lips with two fingers and wriggled my tongue into her. Her flavor was intense, and my tongue tingled with the taste.

I pulled back and went for her clit. Her nub was swollen and waiting. She let out a feral growl as I swabbed it with my tongue. I teased her button and even grazed it with my teeth. That final act put her over the top, and she came with a helpless moan.

Sitting up and looking down at her, I saw her veneer was gone — any and all of the trappings of her station in life had vanished. I guessed her to be an exec of some sort or an attorney. But at that moment she was a lustful creature — beautiful, raw and with bottomless want roaring through her.

“You’re good at eating cunt,” she said. I could tell she relished saying “cunt.” Next, she sat up and added, “Let me show you how good I can suck your cock.”

I lay back on the mattress, and she hurried into place. My dick pointed toward the ceiling, and she dove in to swirl her tongue around my cockhead. Muscles jumped randomly in my body as new waves of pleasure washed over me.

Her lips closed around my rod, and her mouth descended. She sucked me right down to my balls, deep-throating me like a porn star. I groaned helplessly.

Karla bobbed her head up and down, hitting the perfect rhythm. Her tongue rasped against my shaft, inducing further pleasures. Her cheeks were flattened around me as she maintained an impressive suction. The look of utter rapture on her face told me how much she was enjoying our interlude.

“Yeah,” I said hoarsely. “Yeah, suck my cock. Suck it good!”

My words seemed to turn her on even more. She blew me even harder, pushing me toward the edge. But she sensed my extreme arousal and paused, taking her mouth off me and looking at me with blazing eyes.

“Do you want to come in my mouth? Or do you want to fuck my pussy?” she asked.

She clearly got a kick out of giving me a choice. This was all extremely fun for her. She was cutting loose from all the niceties of her usual life.

“I want to slam your pussy,” I said. “I want to pound that cunt.”

I swear her body quivered like a taut bow ready to shoot its arrow. She scrambled onto her back and opened her legs. I took a little extra time moving into place, to build her anticipation. I didn’t begrudge her any games she might be playing. After all, I was having a hell of a lot of fun, too.

When I plunged into her, I wasn’t gentle about it. Plainly, she wasn’t after gentle. I staked her deep, fairly pinning her to the bed with my cock. Her cunt embraced me with its sweet, slippery grip. Her legs came up and wrapped around my waist.

I hit bottom and let her feel the full dimensions of my cock, then I began to stroke in and out of her clutching canal. She immediately mirrored my tempo, rocking her hips up to meet my downward thrusts. She was showing me the primal animal she truly was — the persona she couldn’t reveal in her regular life.

Maybe she had a lover — or lovers — back home. Maybe even a husband or wife, though she wore no ring. Whatever, that night she was mine, and I was hers — her plaything, her fully functional erotic toy. It was a role I was happy to play.

I started coming down on her harder. Our flesh smacked together loudly, and she bounced under me. The bed shook as I slammed into her pussy, reaming her deep every time. She whimpered helplessly, and encouraged by the sound, I hammered onward.

I wanted to watch her climax, and I got to see it. Her lips parted on a silent cry that soon became a ragged, needy sound. Her hands went out on either side of her, and she clawed at the sheets. Her legs cinched my waist fiercely as she shook, shuddered and thrashed.

When she blinked her way back to reality, she realized I hadn’t come yet.

“Fuck me from behind!” she panted. Karla quickly uncoupled herself and flipped over onto her hands and knees. She cranked her head back over her shoulder and demanded, “Do me hard!”

I moved quickly into place. My hands gripped her hips, and I jammed my cock back into her warm, wet hole. As soon as I started pummeling her pussy, I knew I’d go over the edge soon. Excitement had reached its crescendo in me. I needed my release. I needed to spunk.

But I tried to wrench one more orgasm out of her. I pounded her from behind, my balls spanking her clit in a frantic rhythm. I held on, biting my lip. I heard a cry rising from her, going up and up the scale until she hit that lovely orgasmic note. I felt her shaking with another climax.

In fact, she quaked so hard she came loose from me. No problem, though. I was already shooting my load. But instead of coming inside her, I sent gooey jets all over her ass and back.

“Yes!” she shouted. “Come on me! Come on me!”

I never did tell Karla the truth about my life. I’d only stayed at the resort for two weeks, but I’m happy to say Beth and I hooked up before I left!

It was the summer I had always wanted — and needed.