I had driven her to a lonely spot off-road, up to the top of a hill, where we could get a good look at the moon. It wasn’t full, only a half smile in the cyan sky. But it was the only thing up there; not a cloud to be found, and the sun was out of view from the windshield.

I parked, and we sat, I in the driver’s seat, Maggie in the passenger’s, and we held hands, and we stared at the moon. I leaned over the wheel so all I saw was that pale white crescent. That’s all I wanted to see. Somewhere up there, there were people. Even I didn’t know how far away they were. 250,000 miles is too big a number to comprehend.

The radio had switched over from the usual broadcast announcer to the live NASA feed. We were hearing mission control talk to the spaceship. We were hearing instructions that our boys were being told. Our boys, our men, our fellow Americans. We heard Neil say “The Eagle has landed.”

That moment I was never so proud to be an American. I welled up with tears. My dad would have hided me if he knew I was tearing up listening to man’s greatest accomplishment. Men don’t cry, he would have said.

But Maggie was with me, not my dad, and it was okay to cry in front of her. She didn’t cry herself, not a drop; but it didn’t mean as much to her, I guess. It meant something to me.

I nearly lost it altogether when Neil uttered his most famous phrase. My lip quivered, I sniffed, I fought those tears with all my will, and I got them under control before they spilled over the dam. But my body was nearly shivering with chills, despite the hot July air.

When I thought I could finally speak with a dry throat, I muttered “This is history, baby. History in the making.” Maybe it was cliché, but Neil gave his line already. My line was an afterthought.

“History in the making,” Maggie repeated. I stayed staring at the moon, but I felt her lips touch my cheek, and heard the soft peck.

I finally leaned back in my seat and faced her. She was the most beautiful girl on the planet. Of all planets. There was nothing I could say to her to express this that didn’t sound trite. She was wearing clothes from the fifties: poodle skirt, pink ribbon in a bow over her long blonde ponytail, a tight white polo shirt. They hadn’t come back in style, of course; Maggie just wished it would. Flower power had no effect on her. She saw the girls wearing bell-bottom jeans with peace sign patches sewn on and the loose shirts with the dangling threads and the acoustic guitars, and she didn’t care for that look. She thought she’d been born fifteen years too late. When Grease came out two years later, she thought she’d died and gone to Heaven.

I leaned over the stick between us, she met me half-way, and our lips came together, the soft pink flesh of her mouth pushing warm air into me, closing down my chills. I could feel her breath through my whole body, and when she opened her mouth further, her tongue sliding between my lips and beginning its well-known dance with mine, Apollo 11 was the last thing on my mind.

The saliva flowed, our tongues slid across, around, over, and under each other. We still clasped hands, my right and her left, and we used our free hands for rubbing. My left hand slid over her curves, from hip to breasts, and her right hand began stroking my thigh.

Her eyes had closed, but I was still watching her. Though her sky-blues were covered by soft lids, I knew they were secretly rolling up with electricity.

But finally, she forced herself to break from the embrace, and for a moment I wondered what was wrong. Then she uttered her own little phrase: “Let’s make our own history.”

I grinned, and we shoved our lips together again with a clumsy force. I closed my own eyes now, the blood in my head rushing to my cock, erecting itself and straining.

Maggie slid her hand from my thigh to my crotch, and felt the bulge. Our tongues clashed again, but my own hand was busy moving up to her breast. I squeezed her breast gently, and she squeezed my cock in reply. I started to grope harder; she groped harder.

We mutually dislodged our holding hands, and she began to unzip me as I threw my hands under her shirt. One hand discovered a breast, the other had less luck getting under the bra. My palm slid over a nipple, and I rubbed and squeezed as best I could. She completely unzipped me, then broke from our kissing to see what she was doing.

To see my cock.

But the front of a car is difficult to work with. So we pulled away to throw our clothes off as quickly as possible. In hindsight more seduction and romance would have been nice, but we both wanted to get down to business too much.

I lifted my ass of the seat so I could slide my pants and underwear to my ankles. When I looked back to her, she had taken off her shirt and bra, and I saw her breasts for the first time, a moment after my first touch. I’d seen tits before, and imagined Maggie’s plenty, but that first glance threw everything I knew of tits out the window. Hers were something else. Something amazing. Perky and quite a handful, they looked like something I could grope for hours.

I looked up from her breasts to her face, and saw her staring at my hard dick. She was breathing heavy. She was practically panting from anticipation. Just from the hunger on her face, I knew she was looking at the nicest cock she’d ever seen up close and personal. She liked them thick, uncut, trimmed.

“That’s a beautiful cock,” she said, and before I realized that was the first vulgar thing I’d ever heard her say, she bent over and licked it. I couldn’t believe it at all. I was excited over getting to fuck her, but I never expected a hummer.

She knew how to do it. She slid her tongue along the underside of my shaft, top to bottom to top, three times, then came back up and licked the head, rolling her tongue along it just as if she was making out with me, as if my dick was my own tongue. She almost seemed to suckle my foreskin like the way she sometimes pulled my lower lip when she was done kissing me. Then she plunged full ahead, without warning, sliding my dick in her mouth. She bobbed up and down, getting her lips a fraction further down my shaft with each bob. I could feel her lips and her tongue working over my cock. I didn’t know what else to do, so I massaged her neck as she blew me.

I couldn’t even watch, I just laid back and put my head against the headrest. I just kept saying “Holy shit, baby, holy shit,” over and over again. My dick got wet with her saliva.

I slid my hand from her neck down her spine and rubbed her bare back, kneading it. It drifted on its own merry way, as if I had no control, across her back, under her armpit, and played with her boob, alternately caressing it and groping it. I didn’t realize it at first, but I groped when she sucked hardest, and I caressed when she licked the precum off the head of my dick or just breathed heavily onto it. We mimicked each other’s tenderness and roughness.

She finally sat up, cupping my balls with her hand, rubbing them, gripping them. She looked at me with a hunger in her eyes, like she was a feral cat.

She said: “Get out of this car and fuck me on the hood.”

I was shocked at the suggestion and at hearing the word “fuck” from her mouth, although by this point, I should have realized that if my dick got in there, anything was bound to come out.

I opened the door immediately, and tried to step out. My pants were around my ankles, so I stumbled, tripped, fell on the ground. I ripped my shoes off while I was down, then pulled my pants and underwear off, and finally pulled my shirt off as I stood up.

I didn’t care about anyone seeing us, although I bet anyone with a pair of binoculars could have watched us from the village below our view. I think people had those binoculars pointed at the moon that day, and we were safe.

I ran around the car to open the door for her, but it didn’t need opening; she was already out and getting on the hood.

It was hot, of course. July heat plus a running engine isn’t good for that, but she took no notice. She was hotter than the hood, I can tell you.

She was wearing nothing now but the poodle skirt and her pink hair ribbon; the shirt was gone in the car, and she had taken off her shoes and socks while I had been busy flailing on the ground like a fish, trying to take my own socks off.

She climbed on the hood and I practically jumped on top of her. My tongue found hers again, that faint taste of precum still in her mouth, but her mouth much fuller with saliva than before; my hands found her breasts again, and my cock rubbed against her thigh, through the skirt. I would have fucked her right through her poodle skirt for all I cared; she fortunately lifted it for me, and I discovered she had already tossed her panties, too. If she had been wearing any from the start.

My dick rubbed against her pussy lips, the head of my cock sliding against her clit, and I probably would have just thrust like a dog humping a leg if she didn’t tell me it wasn’t in yet. But she took a while to tell me, and at first she let it be, moaning through our tongue dance as my cock hit her clit.

My hands squeezed her tits, her hands were scratching my back with a pleasurable pain. She broke out of the kiss and turned her head to breathe, and I saw her neck, looking like she was offering it to me. I slid my tongue along her neck before finding a soft spot to suckle.

Soon she started to chant “I’m going to cum but I want you inside me I’m going to cum but I want you inside me…,” and it was only then that I even realized I wasn’t even fucking her. With that in mind, I slid a hand down to her crotch, found the hole where an ocean of wetness was flooding out, and I wiggled my way to the proper place, finally pushing my cock easily inside her. Her pussy was so slippery I feared my dick would fall out with every thrust.

Finally her chant ended “-but I want you inside me I’m going… to-o-o-o… cu-u-u-…” and her final word broke into an elaborate moan as I felt her pussy contract around my cock. I pushed deeper into her, as far as I could go, fighting against her squeezing orgasm.

I pulled my hand back up and I could smell the delicious aroma of her cunt on my fingers. I licked them, and it tasted better than I thought possible, salty and sweet and bitter and savory all at once. Like the best parts of a seven course meal in one drop.

Her nails dug deeper into my back as her orgasm reached its height, and then suddenly lost grip. Her whole body nearly went limp, but her hips continued to twitch like they were having a private seizure apart from the rest of her.

I stopped sucking her neck, and I saw the bright red hickey that I would later dread to explain to her daddy. But at that moment I didn’t care. I looked at her face, at the sweat running down her, and despite the drive in my dick to fuck, I stopped thrusting for just a moment to admire her.

But she snapped me back into the mood by wrapping her legs over my hips and urging me “Do what you want to me, just cum inside me.” Her legs squeezed me in, and my dick took over my brain once again. I thrust harder than ever, I licked the sweat off her cheek, my wet hand drifted down to her ass, now lifted and exposed for me, and I gripped her cheek. Then I spanked her, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough that she squeaked. I slapped her ass cheek again, and her arms and legs wrapped around me tighter, her own pelvis sliding a little to help me thrust deeper inside her.

“Cum inside me,” she moaned again, “make that thick cock cum inside me, please babe…”

She didn’t need to beg me much longer, because my orgasm was coming up. All my senses were on fire: the car was hotter than ever on my skin; the look of her blushing cheeks and bright red hickey on her neck stood out in clarity; she smelled of the perfume I got her last month, perfume and sweat and pussy juice; the drops of pussy juice on my tongue lingered; I could still hear the radio in the car just below the wet sounds of fucking, and quietly, even more quietly than the radio, Maggie’s beautiful voice moaning “Cum, cum in me… cum, please…”

My cock twitched once before I even came, and she knew that cue. She held me in a death vise, and again she squeezed her cunt, but this time without contractions, like she was gripping my dick the way she gripped my body, her arms and legs wrapped around me, pussy walls wrapped around my shaft.

My balls tightened, my thrusting sped to a frantic pace, then stopped in a flash, as my dick convulsed and twitched by itself, firing a series of ropes of white, hot, sticky cum deep into Maggie’s cunt. She moaned almost as loud as her orgasm made her moan, and as I closed my eyes to concentrate on my orgasm, she kissed me once again, her tongue digging into my mouth the way my cock dug into her pussy.

My orgasm subsided after a time I wished would last forever, and finally spent, I nearly collapsed right on top of Maggie.

I kept my weight off her, but I pressed against her enough to feel her breasts sliding against my chest as she breathed deep.

My ear was near her mouth, and my mouth was near her ear, so we whispered to each other in that position for a time:

“Don’t take it out,” she said.

“I won’t,” I said.

“Promise to kiss me every day.”

“I will.”

“Promise me you won’t tell your buddies about this.”

“I promise.” I kept that promise.

After a minute I felt my dick was starting to go soft, and we had collected ourselves enough, so I slid off of her and helped her off the hood. The seat of her poodle skirt was wet from our drippings, so she took it off and laid it down on the hood to dry.

She was completely naked, and stunning. It was only now, after the sex, that I had finally gotten to see her nude, I had finally gotten to see her pussy. After sex, my cum still dripping out of her, it was the prettiest pussy I’d ever seen, bar none. She shaved, for one, which was a delightful surprise. Her pussy almost looked too small for my dick, and if I had known it’s size beforehand I would have worried and gone slow for fear of hurting, and I thought it was a modern miracle my dick slid in so well.

We sat on a boulder nearby, our naked bodies drying in the sun. Maggie untied the ribbon on her head, reset her ponytail, and retied it. There was no shame between us. We allowed ourselves to look, to admire.

She watched my flaccid, soaking wet dick drip the last drops of cum. She took it and held it, cupping my dick and my balls together, fiddling with it like a child with a new toy.

I reached and rubbed her clit for a while, but although we both enjoyed it, the sex we’d just had had wiped us both out.

Minutes passed that felt like seconds. She said her butt was hurting from the rock, so she sat on my lap, her smooth cheeks (one red from the spanks) against my thighs and my dick. I hugged her waist, and we both looked up at the moon, until the sun began to set behind us, and we decided it was time to go.

Our little bit of history was made, and it was unforgettable.

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