Everyone’s first sexual encounter is special, but mine was really special. It was like having sex in a garden, with God watching.

One thing I learned from my first sexual experience is that God must approve of sex, to have created a garden for a love nest.

You might observe from things I’m saying.. I was brought up in a religious family.

So I felt weird about making love in a flower garden, with my girlfriend's mother watching us, from the kitchen window.

Maybe Mother couldn’t see us, as we deflowered each other in the backyard flower garden. Or.. Maybe she could see us. I don't know for sure.

I couldn't see clearly, from the position I was in, totally-naked and face-down in a flower bed.

But I do remember, when I looked up, for a brief moment, in the middle of a never-ending orgasm, in the middle of the flower garden, I’m sure I saw Mother's face in the kitchen window.

Mother was watching her daughter making love for the first time.. Isn't that nice.

Farm girls are different from city girls. Joyce was a farm girl. Her friends call her Joy.

I met Joy at school, when we took the same classes in a small town bible college.

We fell in love fast. It was love at first sight. Love at first fight. We loved each other the first night, and there was lots of love after that. You name it, we experienced it all.

You might say, we were ready for spring fever, after sleeping together for three months - without having sex.

It's true. No sex for the first three months. We were students at an Atlantic Bible College. We didn’t know how to do sex.

Joy had been sleeping in my bed for three months, but we hadn't made love yet. It was driving me crazy. She said we were waiting for that special moment.

It was 100 Days of Foreplay. It was torture. I was ready to explode, bursting at the seams. My cock was so hard, most of the time, I was walking with a permanent limp.

And there she was, in all her naked glory, fully revealed, lying on her back in a flower bed.

In seconds, I was naked too, laying gently on top of her, like I had done many times before, in my dorm room. Ah, student life.

She was a nice girl of course, which explains why she didn’t want to make love in the company of other people, like my college dorm roommate and his girlfriend.

If you can imagine this.. My student dormitory single bed was only a few feet away from my college room mate’s single bed.

These two single beds, in our dorm room, often held four people.

There was Joy and me in my bed. In the other bed was my roommate, Ken, and his girlfriend, Candace.

Kenny and I had met the girls on a double date, in our final year, only a few months before graduation. We were aware we might be going in different directions soon. It was now or never, if we were going to get past first base, and score.

Me and Joy, and Kenny and Candace. Four horny virgins in two single beds, only a few feet apart. The moaning and groaning went on for hours, most nights.

Then suddenly, there were only two virgins. Kenny and Candy finally hit the jackpot.

Joy and I could tell what was happening, thanks to the fevered breathing and moaning sounds which preceded the muffled screaming sounds, coming from the other bed.

I think they were screaming into their pillows, but I wasn’t exactly listening. We were distracted by our own distractions, and went back to the business at hand, which I was holding in my hand. We heard them come and then.. we were gone again.

It was slow and it was sensual. Rubbing, touching, embracing, kissing, fondling, playing with her pussy. That’s right. She let me play with her pussy.

I got to know that pussy inside out, not as an invader, more like playing doctor. I was touching everything, to see what reactions I could get.

It was saucy sex, and soupy sex, as my fingers roamed through her swamps of ecstasy every night, week after week, month after month.

As time went on, I could see, there was a problem. My fingers were getting fucked, but I wasn’t.

By the second month, Kenny and Candy were fucking like minks, those horny little animals. They were oblivious to the frustrated virgins in the next bed. Joy and I were the slow students in the class.

I didn’t care. I was too busy finding out what a clitoris is, and about all the neat things a clitoris can do.

That took another month. What a roller coaster ride that was.

By the third month, I was suggesting we skip classes so we could lay in bed all day. It was fun but I was only approaching third base. No home run yet, and the school year was coming to a close.

Before final exams, we had a study break. Most of the kids hit the local bars. I don’t enjoy alcohol, so I went home.

I left the laundry for Mom to clean, and borrowed the car to visit Joy on her family farm, a hundred miles from our family home in the city.

That’s where it happened, in that strange and foreign world called country life.

An erupting volcano was nothing compared to my bursting energy, as I slid around on top of her sun drenched body, searching with my manly probe for her whole being.

It’s not like we rushed into it. When I first arrived, she had to introduce me all around, to the family, all the friends, the hired hands, the bulls, the cows, the horses, dogs, cats and pigs.

She loves watching the pigs. They make her laugh.

One thing I always enjoyed was watching her dad, Farmer Frank, bringing the cows together with the bulls at breeding time.

There we were, with maybe a dozen people, casually standing around, watching animal sex acts, with several bulls mounting and mating with one cow after another.

What a spectacle. What a dong. A bull has a extra long schlong. So did I.

The pressure kept building inside me. After two months of foreplay, we were standing in dirt, watching animal sex, with eyes wide open.

The bulls did their duty, time after time. Farmers talked business and farmer’s wives handed around plates of cookies and apple pie.

Joy and I were mesmerized by it all. My mouth was open too wide to talk.

After observing the bovine sex club for a while, we needed a break, so she took me on a tour of the farm. A barn can be fun, when you're a teenager in love. We played in the hay for a while, until she said, “It’s dusty here. Let’s explore some more.”

The farm truck was full of seed bags. The house was full of people. There were miles of fields and orchards, and I had a hard on the size of all outdoors.

We toured the whole farm, but it wasn’t what you’d call a real fast walk.

When we rounded the corner of the apple orchard, I saw the garden behind the farmhouse. Joy guided me into the flower garden. She was visually embracing every flower. I was imagining deflowering her.

This was a flower garden unlike anything I’d ever seen.

For one thing, it was huge. Half of the garden was filled with vegetables, corn, cucumbers, carrots, potatoes, herbs and spices.

The other side of the garden, farther from the house, was a world of flowers, roses, lilies, mums, hydrangeas and more. We walked among the flowers.

I don't remember looking at a single flower. The sun was shining through her dress. I could see her naked silhouette in a golden halo of sunshine.

Behind her, I could see a large picture window, letting lots of sunshine into the farmhouse kitchen.

Framed in the picture window, Mother stood at the kitchen sink. She was washing dinner dishes, as she gazed out of the window at the flower garden.

That’s why I was astounded when Joy sat down in the middle of the flower garden, and removed her clothes, which she put under herself, on the ground.

A woman called Joy was lying naked in the middle of the flower garden.

I was on top of her in seconds. The world was beautiful, and she was saying, “I want you to love me the way I love you.”

Maybe it was all the practice but that first sexual experience felt quite perfect for both of us. There were no fumbled plays and no power players, only stars in the eyes from start to finish.

Except for one momentary lapse of concentration, when I raised my head to breathe in the flowers. I looked up at the kitchen window. The kitchen window was looking back at us, or so it seemed.

There were rays of sunshine reflecting in the glass. I couldn't be sure if mother was there, watching us, but I believe I saw her in the window, staring at us.

On the other hand, I didn't want to think about it too much. I had better things to do than stare at sunlit shadows reflecting in kitchen windows.

The smells of the garden mingled with the smell of sex in the sunshine. All the smells combined and took the nose on a magic carpet ride. I closed my eyes again.

It was slow and steady sex, not the frantic wrestling match of the past few months. This time, her eyes said, “Yes,” and my body knew what to do.

Never having done this before, I had nothing to guide me, but I discovered that the body has a mind of its own.

It’s true. A body knows what to do when it comes to sex. Just put it on automatic pilot, and let it go.

You don’t need to think about it. In fact, thinking about sex gets in the way.

It was slippery, sliding around inside her, and hot.. very hot. Rivers of sweat ran everywhere on our glistening bodies. The sun was boiling us, like soup.

Slippery, sliding, wet and sensual, always pushing forward, back and forth, ever so slowly, slower and faster, slower and hotter, slower and faster and hotter, feeling soaked with sweat.

In sex, muscles stiffen and relax, expanding and contracting, again and again. The body moves like an amoeba. For me, that's how sex feels. We were a couple of sexual amoebas, wrestling with each other.. in a good way. We had Amoeba Sex.

When she moved faster, she breathed faster, in my ear. My body moved with the speed of her breathing. We held each other so closely, our bodies melted into each other.

When I say this sex was hot, it was sunshine hot. Beyond boiling hot. That’s what I remember most. Sex in the sunshine is possibly the hottest experience a person can have, and still survive.

It’s difficult to describe the heat of sunshine sex, but it's nice to remember on a cold winter night.

Her vagina opened up like a warm and friendly hot tub. My long john hot rod was bathing in her overheated sauna bath. Pushing, expanding, heating, hotter, mind-numbingly hot.

All that heat had to go somewhere. Eventually our bodies exploded, and our hearts came together as one. Maybe I screamed. She certainly did.

They may have heard our orgasm in the next county, or maybe in the house, but no one said anything over dinner.

When we calmed down, I looked up at the kitchen window. No one waved. There was no one handing out awards on the back porch.

I went back to looking at the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

They say a happy woman is the prettiest flower in God's Garden, and it's true.

I don't really know how to explain the fall from grace which occurs a month later, when a crying girlfriend comes to you with tears in her eyes to tell you she might be pregnant.

It's bad timing, for sure. Pregnant for final exams. No time to think about what to do next. In life, as with sex, sometimes it's better not to think too much.

A few months later, the baby came, and we managed to make some more over the next few years.

There’s something about country girls that keep you coming back for more.

I may be a city boy, but I’ve come to appreciate the beauty one can find in a flower garden.

Lovelife Stories, Chapter 2

Baby Spirits & Singing Saints

People often feel they're being guided. Sometimes, it feels like we're guided by God.

But what if Baby Spirits are guiding us? It happens more often than people like to believe.

Think of it this way. When strange things happen in your life, maybe you can blame it on the Baby Spirits.