badlybent
03-24-2007, 11:44 PM
This is a series that diffrent parts would fit better in seperate sub- forums but then there would be no way to keep it all together so I'll just park it here.
Pull up a deck chair, grease up with suntan goop, pop a cool one, and enjoy.
The Lake's Heating Up
by Badlybent
The summer was heating up here in Dixie, the land of bass boats, ski, boats, NASCAR and the home of the Braves. I’m a year round live aboard resident at lake Hartwell. A man made lake that’s 100 sq. miles of southern paradise eight-five miles north-east of the Atlanta, up toward the South Carolina line.
The weekend crowd showed up right on schedule. The fish were biting and the tang of burning meat filled the air. I had also noticed that a thirty something babe and her teen-aged daughter had moved into one of the rental houseboats on my dock.
I’d seen them around during the week so it figured they were staying for the summer and a yuppie husband would make the drive up on weekends. When the weekend came though, no guy showed. Well now wasn’t that encouraging?
We howdy-ed passing on the dock and pretty soon I’d managed to “look after” a couple of things on their boat. Things were progressing nicely. I learned that she was divorced and the yuppie who didn’t show-up was "vacationing" in the Atlanta Federal Penitentiary for a fiduciary indiscretion. That would mean embezzlement to the rest of us.
Her name was Veronica. She was waiting tables for the summer at Catfish John’s, an upscale tourist joint, to get out of the city heat, and to supplement a tiny divorce settlement. The little that remained after the courts got though skinning her scalawag husband.
Betty, the daughter, was fifteen, blond and as cute as a speckled pup. She was over developed for her age, a full C and well on her way toward Mama's fine DD chest. The imp looked more like Veronica’s younger sister than her daughter and she got more than her share of looks from the male crowd around the marina. The adult male crowd that is.
I’m a computer-commuter, a free-lance writer, so I’m here most days and can set my own hours. That's perfect because my real occupation, my bliss, is fishing. My motto is "I'd rather be fishing," and I can’t imagine ever going back to the suit and tie thing. Life on the lake is where it’s at. Praise be to IBM and Bill Gates. The Bass of the south salute you.
I was sitting on the deck working from my lap-top, catching the breeze before the day heated up, when Betty came over and asked to pet my cat. “Sure," I said, letting my eye wander toward her handsome features as she stroked my old tomcat Buckwheat. Lucky fucking cat.
Betty was decked out in normal lake attire, cut-off jeans we call Daisy Dukes after the old TV show Dukes of Hazard, and a skimpy faded red halter-top that she must have outgrown a couple of years ago for all it covered.
A real life, blond haired, blue eyed, picture of southern femininity. A pretty picture but I didn’t think past that.
I’m not sure who adopted who. Pretty soon I notice that Buckwheat was over at her place pretty much anytime she wasn’t over here which was a lot. She was lonely, bored, and sad about her Dad. He was her Daddy even if he was a polecat skunk.
Her mom worked all day so we chatted a lot. I figured that the cat was just a convenient excuse to hang around. Betty was a talker and there were no other kids her age to talk to. I learned all the about MySpace, I-Pods, the current heart throb, and all the latest teenager stuff. I guess she learned a little about me too.
One day I was getting ready to head out in chase of the wily Big Mouth Bass and she asked if she could go along too. I said we probably should ask her mom first but maybe later. She was disappointed but agreed and tugged good old Buckwheat off to keep her company.
Did I say lucky fucking cat? I thought so.
That evening I flagged Veronica down heading home from work. I invited her aboard and offered her a beer. Then told her the situation and asked permission to take her daughter fishing.
“Thank you kind sir.” she accepted and popped the top on her cold one, then blissfully rubbed the cold wet bottle across the top ofthe ample cleavage showing above her skimpy waitress outfit drinking in the coolness though deeply tanned skin. She flopped into a deck chair with a sigh and shooed away a couple of pesky flys.
“Hard day?” I asked as she took a fair sized gulp.
“Standings hard. I’d forgotten that," she kicked off her shoes and wiggled her toes. "I waited tables and supported pecker-head while he finished college. It was hard then--it’s still hard. I was young and in love then so…well, now I’m not and that’s a big difference, and I'm not exactly getting younger." she said.
“Betty wants to become a fisherman Huh?” She changed the subject.
“It's what she says. She’s a good kid. Gets lonely though.”
“Yeah I know. I’m not sure Bass is exactly what she wants to catch though. You know she’s taken with you, don’t you?” She said.
“What?” You mean...like a crush..." I trailed off as the light came on.
I was startled and blushed because I really hadn’t noticed. I'd totally bought into the age difference thing and figured she wouldn’t be interested in an old fart like me. Now that Veronica mentioned it, the signs were obvious. “Well she hangs out over here a lot but hey nothings going on. I mean…well…”
“I know, I know.” she grinned at my discomfort and waved off my concern. “She’s growing up fast, too fast I think but what are you going to do. Parents can’t call time outs like referees. I was boy crazy even younger than her.
She looked out over he lake watching a boat go by hell bent for nowhere and drained her beer.
“She’s on the pill. I insisted on that. No mistakes like I made. Fishing sounds better than druggies, drunks, and losers, whatever mischief she gets in.
"You want to come over for dinner. Pork chops on the grill and Missy’s making potato salad which aught to be interesting since she’s never been known to boil water before. Could have something to do with her expecting me to ask you over. You think?"
I sat stunned watching her ass wiggle down the dock in an all too short waitress outfit. Well lord love a duck. What was that all about?
-----------------------------------
Next morning:
“Morning Dusty,” she said.
“And same to you Skeeter.”
I’d taken to calling Betty, “Skeeter,” cause she was cute as a bug. When you cross the Mason-Dixon line, nicknames start rolling off your tongue like rain off a metal roof and they’re as common as fried chicken, grits, and biscuits and gravy. Mines Dusty. My last name is Rhodes. Go figure.
“You on a mission or just visiting?” I asked.
She shrugged glancing at the door.
“Go ahead.“ I waved. “Coffee, donuts, and conversation are still free.”
As she went inside and I returned to reading “The Constitution,” the Atlanta daily. Eventually she came back toting a plate of donuts and a mug of coffee with cream and sugar. The breakfast of champions. She slumped in a deck chair with a loud sigh calculated to get me to put the down the paper and pay attention to her.
“Yes Skeeter and what can I do for you on this fine morning now that you‘ve finally dragged you cute butt out of bed to grace us with your presence? Isn't that right Buckwheat?"
She grinned that infectious girly grin that would drive men crazy the rest of her life.
As usual Buckwheat had presented himself front and center to be petted and had hopped on her lap, purring to beat all hell. Buckwheat may be old but he is a tomcat after all. He loves the ladies around the marina and the old fart knows a good thing when he sees it.
I folding the paper. It would keep. There was nothing but the same old bad news anyway.
“Mama said we could go fishing. If you still want to.” She had made her opening move and took a bite of donut and sipped at her coffee waiting for mine.
“Kinda late in the day. You gotta get up early for serious fishing. I’m afraid the early bird got the worm while some sleepy headed girl was in the land of dreams.”
“Well maybe you could just show me what to do. You know, like a test run or something. Besides we could just be out on the water. Can I drive some?”
That was a good move. The game was shaping up. The board was getting interesting.
“Well gee…Maybe…” I paused for effect with raised eyebrows. “Oh you mean now. Right now?” I asked.
“Could we?” She jumped at the opening. “Wow that would be great. I get so bored you know.”
“Yes you’ve said that a time or two.” I said dryly. “OK we’ll go out for a little while. Don’t expect to catch much but yeah we can at least go for a ride. Maybe stop at 'The Landing' for ice cream on the way back.”
I immediately found myself draped in a very excited teen-aged hug. "Yes, yes!" She exclaimed. "Thank you...Thank you so much." Then I got a big wet kiss on the cheek.
When I got unwrapped, not that I was complaining, we threw some beer and soda in the boat along with a bag of chips and the left-over donuts. Lake Hartwell isn’t exactly the wilderness. We could find places to eat if we got hungry.
When we reached open water I turned the helm over to my new fishing buddy and slowly increased the speed as she got used to steering. Pretty soon we were zipping along at a good clip enjoying the sun with the wind in our face feeling the 200 HP kick us in the ass.
Skeeter was having a blast handling the boat and I enjoyed watching her have fun. All right I admit it. I also enjoyed watching her boobs bounce up and down straining that little halter top way beyond design limits. It made a valiant effort to maintain control though and succeeded beyond all odds. Damn, don’t you just hate that.
When she tired of driving around aimlessly, I shut down a ways out so she could try her hand at casting a lure without any obstructions to get hung up on. We stood in the boat using a life ring I’d thrown overboard as a target. The object was to put her lure in the ring.
After awhile she got the hang of it. I stood behind guiding her arm and helping her stand in the rocking boat. Well Okay, I was checking her tits over her shoulder and thoroughly enjoying the way her body leaned back into mine while being serenaded with a chorus of girlish giggles and laughter. I felt a distinct tingle grow in my dingle.
After awhile she could hit the target more times than not. Then a speed boat came roaring out of nowhere. Our boat rocked wildly. She lost her footing and fell back into me knocking me down too. I grabbed her waist to keep her from falling overboard and ended up in a laughing giggling heap with her fecund body pinning me to the deck.
“Thank you Dusty. I think you saved my life,” she gave me a daughterly peck on the lips but she didn’t move.
In my head the instant replay guy was screaming foul. I realized that she just hadn’t lost her balance. She used the wake as leverage to do exactly what she intended. Smooth move I thought. Wonder how long she had that planned.
“Not likely." I said, "you swim like a mermaid Skeeter.”
“Well thank you anyway.” She kissed me again.
This one was less daughterly with a hint of pink tongue. She still made no effort to get up and I didn’t care a bit. Her tit’s pressing on my bare chest felt just fine and the rest of her jostling around by the boats motion worked wonders in my nether region. I was sure she could feel my stiffening cock and she didn’t seem to mind at all. Not at all.
The grey and blue where at war in my skull and those damned Yankee dogs won again. A true gentleman wouldn’t have pressed the attack. But then Ret Butler carried what’s her name off to the bedroom in Gone With The Wind didn’t he?
“Do you let the boys pay with your boobs Skeeter?
“Oh sometimes if I like them," she giggled. "I’m not like Shana Davis though. She's such a slut I don't know why she even bothers with clothes."
The little she devil wiggled her generous boobs against.
“You can play with them if you want to. I’d like that. It feels sooo good." She moved my hand to her firm young breast putting all her cards on the table. There was no doubt now where this scene was headed.
“Uh…I don’t know if this is a good idea Skeeter honey.” But I didn’t take my hand away. I felt her nipple hardening under it’s tiny covering.
“Mmmm…” she purred not unlike Buckwheat and moved to give me better access. “You can take my top off if you want to Dusty. I don’t mind. I want you to see me.”
I peeled back the cloth and brought her tender pink nipple to my eager mouth producing a healthy moan of lust from deep in her throat.
Her, oh so suck-able, perfect tittasted of salt and sun and girl, a heady combination for man or boy on any continent. She pulled my head tighter encouraging me to suckle more ardently. A task I could fully embrace.
My free hand made an exploratory journey and found itself massaging a perfectly flat belly just above her waste band eliciting more moans, groans and giggles of pure delight.
The girl was one hot mink for damned sure. My “little head” screamed to yank her pants off and fuck the very dog shit out of her right hot wet cunt then and there. I remembered she was probably still a virgin though and this time the good guys won. If only temporarily. Long live the grey.
“Do you touch the boys cocks when they play with your titties honey?”
“Uh hu, they all like that,” she took the hint and began to stroke me through my pants then thought better and I felt her soft hand pull my shorts down and re-engage my anxious member.
This young lady had obviously practiced the skill. She knew exactly what to do with no prompting from the peanut gallery. I wondered just how far she would go. Maybe she wasn’t a virgin after all. She wiggled, rubbing her crotch on my exploring fingers, which created a wet spot in her sexy little shorts.
Her eyes widened when I brought my moist fingers to my face and gloried in the smell and taste of her musky perfume. “Yum.” I said. “A little taste of heaven.”
“I’ve never let a boy fuck me Dusty. This is as far as I’ve gone.” she said, answering big question. “I want to but maybe not right now. Okay?”
“Whatever you want sweetheart. I don’t mind at all.” Well that wasn’t exactly the truth. I still wanted to fuck that sweet little pussy but I’m not greedy and I didn’t want to scare her. Sometimes things have to progress at their own pace.
“You’re sweet Dusty. A liar but a sweet one. I know exactly what you want to do silly man. I’m not a little girl and I didn’t say no. Just not yet."
Her long pink tongue flicked out and licked my lips, grinning with blue eyes sparkling like a little demon of light. “There’s something I would like to try though if you’ll let me.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“I’ve never done a BJ. Will you show me how? Please?”
Now that was a new one. A gorgeous young lady begging me to suck my humble cock. Are you shitting me? Where to this delightful creature come from. Atlanta isn’t that big is it?
"Well I don’t know. It would be a real sacrifice. How do I know you wouldn’t bite me?” I teased.
“Dusty....” she wailed punching my arm playfully.
“Alright I guess you could do it if you want to that bad.”
A prize winning smile was my first reward. “Okay, so what do I do first?”
“Skeeter honey you’re already off to a good start. I don’t believe I’ve ever been harder. Why don’t you just lick it like an ice cream cone for a little bit. That feels great.”
She bent to the task and her sexy pink tongue flicked out and swirled around my cock head. “Yummm, what’s the nice clear stuff? Tastes salty. Umm…”
“That’s precum honey. It helps keep the girl lubricated when the man shoves it up her pussy.”
“Tastes good.” She focused her lips on the piss slit and sucked my ooze through the straw getting an answering moan of pleasure from me for her efforts.
I could tell right off she was going to be a world class cock sucker. She was obviously enjoying herself to no end.
“Go ahead. Open your mouth and just take it in and suck on it. Watch your teeth that’s all.”
It was all I could do not to cum just watching my cock slide into her virgin teen-aged mouth. She took it out and grinned quite proud of her little self.
“It feels good. Do you like it when I suck your hard dick?” She plunged it back in and swirled her tongue under the crown while stroking the shaft with a velvet soft hand.
I strained at the bit to keep from ramming my hard-on straight down her throat.
The girl took it out again and licked all over up and down the shaft while stroking my balls with her free hand. “I love your balls, their so big. I’ll bet their brewing up a great big load of cum just for little old Skeeter.”
She appraised my cock again. " Can I see how much I can take in my mouth? Is that alright if I try?”
"Sure honey just lit it slide in. Use your hand to control how much you want. That’s it. Your doing great.”
My shaft disappeared farther and farther into the young girls mouth. One, two, three, four inches before I felt the head hit the back of her mouth. She bobbed her head taking it in several times, concentrating but couldn’t figure out how to get more inside.
She removed it again and asked. “Was I good. Did you like having you’re big cock in my mouth?”
“Everything you do is fantastic honey. You wouldn't believe how good it feels.”
“Does it make you want to cum Dusty? I really want to make you shoot a big load for me." She continued to stroke my saliva lubricated shaft. “I think some girls can take more than that can’t they. I can’t figure out how to get more of you‘re dick inside my mouth?”
“God Skeeter I don’t know if you want to try that. You have to swallow it down in you’re throat. Some women can do it but most won’t even try. It can be pretty uncomfortable getting past your gag reflex.”
She continued to stroke my dick and flicking it with her tongue every once in a while, keeping me on edge. My precum flowed profusely and she lapped it, with great pleasure, like a cat licks cream.
“Swallow it? Down my throat? Of course why I didn’t think of that? Wow.” she paused and considered the possibilities.
“Okay. I’m going to try it.” she took a deep breath and went down on my dick, her small hand stroking and guiding me into her eager mouth. When I hit bottom this time I could feel her guiding me into her throat’s opening.
Her swallowing muscles began to massage my cock-head but then she gagged and had to spit me out. Ropes of spit connected her mouth and my cock.
“It’s Okay Skeeter. Don’t hurt yourself you don’t have to do deep throat to give a great blow job. It’s more of a stunt than anything.”
“No, no, I’ll get it. I was almost there. Can I try again? It doesn’t hurt you does it?”
“Of course not silly girl. It feels fantastic. I can't believe you’re even trying it but go ahead. Don’t hurt yourself and don’t feel bad if you can’t do it right off."
This time she took me all the way to the back with no hesitation. Then she began to really concentrate, taking me just to the gag point then pulling back to try again. Each time she got a little further. Spit flooded out of her mouth further lubing my cock. Remaining focused she ignored the distraction. In and out, in and out. Finally, after considerable effort she crossed some line and gulped in a good three inches all at once. Her lips were suddenly tight against my pubic bone. Her emerald eyes flashed victory.
My eyes bugged out. It was the most erotic thing I’d ever seen. It was my first deep throat experience and given by a fifteen year old girl doing her first blow job. Will wonders never cease. Skeeter held my member deep in her throat for three or four seconds then coughed me out.
“I did it. I did it. I swallowed the whole thing. Yeah! That’ so cool. I’ll bet not even Shana Davis can do that.”
She got a big hug from me for her accomplishment then went back to work with even more enthusiasm, if that were possible. I was so overheated that it didn’t take long until I was about to shoot the juice. Her eager mouth was fixing to milk the cow.
Skeeter…Ah… I… can’t last much longer. I’m gonna cum…gotta pull out…”
The girl gave her head a quick shake and narrowed her eyes daring me to even think about it. It was too late to think about anything by then anyway.
My orgasm hit and I went off like an overloaded transformer. Sparks flew in my brain as the currents flowed to and fro. Spunk erupted, splashing against the girls willing throat. I jerked and spasmed as though I'd been electrocuted. I came until was sure I would pass out.
My little fuck buddy lapped it up and swallowed like she'd sucked cock all her life. A more natural dick sucker had never been born than Betty (Skeeter) Davis.
“Ah woman you’ve kilt me…” I flopped around in the boat dramatically. “I’m a goner for sure. I’ll never have sex again. You blew every cell in my brain. Ah…God!” I hammed it up for the laughing girl.
She blushed, all proud of herself. “Oh stop silly." she punched at me again. "Was it really good?”
“Good? Good? She asks. No, it sucked. Sucked real good, you incredible little wench. Good god girl you’re a natural trip.”
She was so happy I thought she was going to pee herself.
We hugged and kissed and I found her ticklish spots and drove her crazy until we rolled in the boat laughing to tears.
“Hmm,” I said when we finally came to our senses. “What do you say we get back to that fishing lesson. You did want to learn how to catch fish or was I the only fish you had in mind?”
We hit a hot spot and she actually caught supper. She got so excited landing her first fish that I almost jumped overboard netting it. What a day? Skeeter was hooked on not one but two new hobbies and I figured this was going to be one hot summer at the lake.
Continued. It's going to be one fucking hot summer at the lake.
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Thanks so much for taking your time to read my story. I hope you enjoyed it and will come back for more. I've gotten two Southern series going at once now which will be a challenge. The other is Southern Comfort. As always comments are appreciated. Don't be bashful. Y'all back come now.
Pull up a deck chair, grease up with suntan goop, pop a cool one, and enjoy.
The Lake's Heating Up
by Badlybent
The summer was heating up here in Dixie, the land of bass boats, ski, boats, NASCAR and the home of the Braves. I’m a year round live aboard resident at lake Hartwell. A man made lake that’s 100 sq. miles of southern paradise eight-five miles north-east of the Atlanta, up toward the South Carolina line.
The weekend crowd showed up right on schedule. The fish were biting and the tang of burning meat filled the air. I had also noticed that a thirty something babe and her teen-aged daughter had moved into one of the rental houseboats on my dock.
I’d seen them around during the week so it figured they were staying for the summer and a yuppie husband would make the drive up on weekends. When the weekend came though, no guy showed. Well now wasn’t that encouraging?
We howdy-ed passing on the dock and pretty soon I’d managed to “look after” a couple of things on their boat. Things were progressing nicely. I learned that she was divorced and the yuppie who didn’t show-up was "vacationing" in the Atlanta Federal Penitentiary for a fiduciary indiscretion. That would mean embezzlement to the rest of us.
Her name was Veronica. She was waiting tables for the summer at Catfish John’s, an upscale tourist joint, to get out of the city heat, and to supplement a tiny divorce settlement. The little that remained after the courts got though skinning her scalawag husband.
Betty, the daughter, was fifteen, blond and as cute as a speckled pup. She was over developed for her age, a full C and well on her way toward Mama's fine DD chest. The imp looked more like Veronica’s younger sister than her daughter and she got more than her share of looks from the male crowd around the marina. The adult male crowd that is.
I’m a computer-commuter, a free-lance writer, so I’m here most days and can set my own hours. That's perfect because my real occupation, my bliss, is fishing. My motto is "I'd rather be fishing," and I can’t imagine ever going back to the suit and tie thing. Life on the lake is where it’s at. Praise be to IBM and Bill Gates. The Bass of the south salute you.
I was sitting on the deck working from my lap-top, catching the breeze before the day heated up, when Betty came over and asked to pet my cat. “Sure," I said, letting my eye wander toward her handsome features as she stroked my old tomcat Buckwheat. Lucky fucking cat.
Betty was decked out in normal lake attire, cut-off jeans we call Daisy Dukes after the old TV show Dukes of Hazard, and a skimpy faded red halter-top that she must have outgrown a couple of years ago for all it covered.
A real life, blond haired, blue eyed, picture of southern femininity. A pretty picture but I didn’t think past that.
I’m not sure who adopted who. Pretty soon I notice that Buckwheat was over at her place pretty much anytime she wasn’t over here which was a lot. She was lonely, bored, and sad about her Dad. He was her Daddy even if he was a polecat skunk.
Her mom worked all day so we chatted a lot. I figured that the cat was just a convenient excuse to hang around. Betty was a talker and there were no other kids her age to talk to. I learned all the about MySpace, I-Pods, the current heart throb, and all the latest teenager stuff. I guess she learned a little about me too.
One day I was getting ready to head out in chase of the wily Big Mouth Bass and she asked if she could go along too. I said we probably should ask her mom first but maybe later. She was disappointed but agreed and tugged good old Buckwheat off to keep her company.
Did I say lucky fucking cat? I thought so.
That evening I flagged Veronica down heading home from work. I invited her aboard and offered her a beer. Then told her the situation and asked permission to take her daughter fishing.
“Thank you kind sir.” she accepted and popped the top on her cold one, then blissfully rubbed the cold wet bottle across the top ofthe ample cleavage showing above her skimpy waitress outfit drinking in the coolness though deeply tanned skin. She flopped into a deck chair with a sigh and shooed away a couple of pesky flys.
“Hard day?” I asked as she took a fair sized gulp.
“Standings hard. I’d forgotten that," she kicked off her shoes and wiggled her toes. "I waited tables and supported pecker-head while he finished college. It was hard then--it’s still hard. I was young and in love then so…well, now I’m not and that’s a big difference, and I'm not exactly getting younger." she said.
“Betty wants to become a fisherman Huh?” She changed the subject.
“It's what she says. She’s a good kid. Gets lonely though.”
“Yeah I know. I’m not sure Bass is exactly what she wants to catch though. You know she’s taken with you, don’t you?” She said.
“What?” You mean...like a crush..." I trailed off as the light came on.
I was startled and blushed because I really hadn’t noticed. I'd totally bought into the age difference thing and figured she wouldn’t be interested in an old fart like me. Now that Veronica mentioned it, the signs were obvious. “Well she hangs out over here a lot but hey nothings going on. I mean…well…”
“I know, I know.” she grinned at my discomfort and waved off my concern. “She’s growing up fast, too fast I think but what are you going to do. Parents can’t call time outs like referees. I was boy crazy even younger than her.
She looked out over he lake watching a boat go by hell bent for nowhere and drained her beer.
“She’s on the pill. I insisted on that. No mistakes like I made. Fishing sounds better than druggies, drunks, and losers, whatever mischief she gets in.
"You want to come over for dinner. Pork chops on the grill and Missy’s making potato salad which aught to be interesting since she’s never been known to boil water before. Could have something to do with her expecting me to ask you over. You think?"
I sat stunned watching her ass wiggle down the dock in an all too short waitress outfit. Well lord love a duck. What was that all about?
-----------------------------------
Next morning:
“Morning Dusty,” she said.
“And same to you Skeeter.”
I’d taken to calling Betty, “Skeeter,” cause she was cute as a bug. When you cross the Mason-Dixon line, nicknames start rolling off your tongue like rain off a metal roof and they’re as common as fried chicken, grits, and biscuits and gravy. Mines Dusty. My last name is Rhodes. Go figure.
“You on a mission or just visiting?” I asked.
She shrugged glancing at the door.
“Go ahead.“ I waved. “Coffee, donuts, and conversation are still free.”
As she went inside and I returned to reading “The Constitution,” the Atlanta daily. Eventually she came back toting a plate of donuts and a mug of coffee with cream and sugar. The breakfast of champions. She slumped in a deck chair with a loud sigh calculated to get me to put the down the paper and pay attention to her.
“Yes Skeeter and what can I do for you on this fine morning now that you‘ve finally dragged you cute butt out of bed to grace us with your presence? Isn't that right Buckwheat?"
She grinned that infectious girly grin that would drive men crazy the rest of her life.
As usual Buckwheat had presented himself front and center to be petted and had hopped on her lap, purring to beat all hell. Buckwheat may be old but he is a tomcat after all. He loves the ladies around the marina and the old fart knows a good thing when he sees it.
I folding the paper. It would keep. There was nothing but the same old bad news anyway.
“Mama said we could go fishing. If you still want to.” She had made her opening move and took a bite of donut and sipped at her coffee waiting for mine.
“Kinda late in the day. You gotta get up early for serious fishing. I’m afraid the early bird got the worm while some sleepy headed girl was in the land of dreams.”
“Well maybe you could just show me what to do. You know, like a test run or something. Besides we could just be out on the water. Can I drive some?”
That was a good move. The game was shaping up. The board was getting interesting.
“Well gee…Maybe…” I paused for effect with raised eyebrows. “Oh you mean now. Right now?” I asked.
“Could we?” She jumped at the opening. “Wow that would be great. I get so bored you know.”
“Yes you’ve said that a time or two.” I said dryly. “OK we’ll go out for a little while. Don’t expect to catch much but yeah we can at least go for a ride. Maybe stop at 'The Landing' for ice cream on the way back.”
I immediately found myself draped in a very excited teen-aged hug. "Yes, yes!" She exclaimed. "Thank you...Thank you so much." Then I got a big wet kiss on the cheek.
When I got unwrapped, not that I was complaining, we threw some beer and soda in the boat along with a bag of chips and the left-over donuts. Lake Hartwell isn’t exactly the wilderness. We could find places to eat if we got hungry.
When we reached open water I turned the helm over to my new fishing buddy and slowly increased the speed as she got used to steering. Pretty soon we were zipping along at a good clip enjoying the sun with the wind in our face feeling the 200 HP kick us in the ass.
Skeeter was having a blast handling the boat and I enjoyed watching her have fun. All right I admit it. I also enjoyed watching her boobs bounce up and down straining that little halter top way beyond design limits. It made a valiant effort to maintain control though and succeeded beyond all odds. Damn, don’t you just hate that.
When she tired of driving around aimlessly, I shut down a ways out so she could try her hand at casting a lure without any obstructions to get hung up on. We stood in the boat using a life ring I’d thrown overboard as a target. The object was to put her lure in the ring.
After awhile she got the hang of it. I stood behind guiding her arm and helping her stand in the rocking boat. Well Okay, I was checking her tits over her shoulder and thoroughly enjoying the way her body leaned back into mine while being serenaded with a chorus of girlish giggles and laughter. I felt a distinct tingle grow in my dingle.
After awhile she could hit the target more times than not. Then a speed boat came roaring out of nowhere. Our boat rocked wildly. She lost her footing and fell back into me knocking me down too. I grabbed her waist to keep her from falling overboard and ended up in a laughing giggling heap with her fecund body pinning me to the deck.
“Thank you Dusty. I think you saved my life,” she gave me a daughterly peck on the lips but she didn’t move.
In my head the instant replay guy was screaming foul. I realized that she just hadn’t lost her balance. She used the wake as leverage to do exactly what she intended. Smooth move I thought. Wonder how long she had that planned.
“Not likely." I said, "you swim like a mermaid Skeeter.”
“Well thank you anyway.” She kissed me again.
This one was less daughterly with a hint of pink tongue. She still made no effort to get up and I didn’t care a bit. Her tit’s pressing on my bare chest felt just fine and the rest of her jostling around by the boats motion worked wonders in my nether region. I was sure she could feel my stiffening cock and she didn’t seem to mind at all. Not at all.
The grey and blue where at war in my skull and those damned Yankee dogs won again. A true gentleman wouldn’t have pressed the attack. But then Ret Butler carried what’s her name off to the bedroom in Gone With The Wind didn’t he?
“Do you let the boys pay with your boobs Skeeter?
“Oh sometimes if I like them," she giggled. "I’m not like Shana Davis though. She's such a slut I don't know why she even bothers with clothes."
The little she devil wiggled her generous boobs against.
“You can play with them if you want to. I’d like that. It feels sooo good." She moved my hand to her firm young breast putting all her cards on the table. There was no doubt now where this scene was headed.
“Uh…I don’t know if this is a good idea Skeeter honey.” But I didn’t take my hand away. I felt her nipple hardening under it’s tiny covering.
“Mmmm…” she purred not unlike Buckwheat and moved to give me better access. “You can take my top off if you want to Dusty. I don’t mind. I want you to see me.”
I peeled back the cloth and brought her tender pink nipple to my eager mouth producing a healthy moan of lust from deep in her throat.
Her, oh so suck-able, perfect tittasted of salt and sun and girl, a heady combination for man or boy on any continent. She pulled my head tighter encouraging me to suckle more ardently. A task I could fully embrace.
My free hand made an exploratory journey and found itself massaging a perfectly flat belly just above her waste band eliciting more moans, groans and giggles of pure delight.
The girl was one hot mink for damned sure. My “little head” screamed to yank her pants off and fuck the very dog shit out of her right hot wet cunt then and there. I remembered she was probably still a virgin though and this time the good guys won. If only temporarily. Long live the grey.
“Do you touch the boys cocks when they play with your titties honey?”
“Uh hu, they all like that,” she took the hint and began to stroke me through my pants then thought better and I felt her soft hand pull my shorts down and re-engage my anxious member.
This young lady had obviously practiced the skill. She knew exactly what to do with no prompting from the peanut gallery. I wondered just how far she would go. Maybe she wasn’t a virgin after all. She wiggled, rubbing her crotch on my exploring fingers, which created a wet spot in her sexy little shorts.
Her eyes widened when I brought my moist fingers to my face and gloried in the smell and taste of her musky perfume. “Yum.” I said. “A little taste of heaven.”
“I’ve never let a boy fuck me Dusty. This is as far as I’ve gone.” she said, answering big question. “I want to but maybe not right now. Okay?”
“Whatever you want sweetheart. I don’t mind at all.” Well that wasn’t exactly the truth. I still wanted to fuck that sweet little pussy but I’m not greedy and I didn’t want to scare her. Sometimes things have to progress at their own pace.
“You’re sweet Dusty. A liar but a sweet one. I know exactly what you want to do silly man. I’m not a little girl and I didn’t say no. Just not yet."
Her long pink tongue flicked out and licked my lips, grinning with blue eyes sparkling like a little demon of light. “There’s something I would like to try though if you’ll let me.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“I’ve never done a BJ. Will you show me how? Please?”
Now that was a new one. A gorgeous young lady begging me to suck my humble cock. Are you shitting me? Where to this delightful creature come from. Atlanta isn’t that big is it?
"Well I don’t know. It would be a real sacrifice. How do I know you wouldn’t bite me?” I teased.
“Dusty....” she wailed punching my arm playfully.
“Alright I guess you could do it if you want to that bad.”
A prize winning smile was my first reward. “Okay, so what do I do first?”
“Skeeter honey you’re already off to a good start. I don’t believe I’ve ever been harder. Why don’t you just lick it like an ice cream cone for a little bit. That feels great.”
She bent to the task and her sexy pink tongue flicked out and swirled around my cock head. “Yummm, what’s the nice clear stuff? Tastes salty. Umm…”
“That’s precum honey. It helps keep the girl lubricated when the man shoves it up her pussy.”
“Tastes good.” She focused her lips on the piss slit and sucked my ooze through the straw getting an answering moan of pleasure from me for her efforts.
I could tell right off she was going to be a world class cock sucker. She was obviously enjoying herself to no end.
“Go ahead. Open your mouth and just take it in and suck on it. Watch your teeth that’s all.”
It was all I could do not to cum just watching my cock slide into her virgin teen-aged mouth. She took it out and grinned quite proud of her little self.
“It feels good. Do you like it when I suck your hard dick?” She plunged it back in and swirled her tongue under the crown while stroking the shaft with a velvet soft hand.
I strained at the bit to keep from ramming my hard-on straight down her throat.
The girl took it out again and licked all over up and down the shaft while stroking my balls with her free hand. “I love your balls, their so big. I’ll bet their brewing up a great big load of cum just for little old Skeeter.”
She appraised my cock again. " Can I see how much I can take in my mouth? Is that alright if I try?”
"Sure honey just lit it slide in. Use your hand to control how much you want. That’s it. Your doing great.”
My shaft disappeared farther and farther into the young girls mouth. One, two, three, four inches before I felt the head hit the back of her mouth. She bobbed her head taking it in several times, concentrating but couldn’t figure out how to get more inside.
She removed it again and asked. “Was I good. Did you like having you’re big cock in my mouth?”
“Everything you do is fantastic honey. You wouldn't believe how good it feels.”
“Does it make you want to cum Dusty? I really want to make you shoot a big load for me." She continued to stroke my saliva lubricated shaft. “I think some girls can take more than that can’t they. I can’t figure out how to get more of you‘re dick inside my mouth?”
“God Skeeter I don’t know if you want to try that. You have to swallow it down in you’re throat. Some women can do it but most won’t even try. It can be pretty uncomfortable getting past your gag reflex.”
She continued to stroke my dick and flicking it with her tongue every once in a while, keeping me on edge. My precum flowed profusely and she lapped it, with great pleasure, like a cat licks cream.
“Swallow it? Down my throat? Of course why I didn’t think of that? Wow.” she paused and considered the possibilities.
“Okay. I’m going to try it.” she took a deep breath and went down on my dick, her small hand stroking and guiding me into her eager mouth. When I hit bottom this time I could feel her guiding me into her throat’s opening.
Her swallowing muscles began to massage my cock-head but then she gagged and had to spit me out. Ropes of spit connected her mouth and my cock.
“It’s Okay Skeeter. Don’t hurt yourself you don’t have to do deep throat to give a great blow job. It’s more of a stunt than anything.”
“No, no, I’ll get it. I was almost there. Can I try again? It doesn’t hurt you does it?”
“Of course not silly girl. It feels fantastic. I can't believe you’re even trying it but go ahead. Don’t hurt yourself and don’t feel bad if you can’t do it right off."
This time she took me all the way to the back with no hesitation. Then she began to really concentrate, taking me just to the gag point then pulling back to try again. Each time she got a little further. Spit flooded out of her mouth further lubing my cock. Remaining focused she ignored the distraction. In and out, in and out. Finally, after considerable effort she crossed some line and gulped in a good three inches all at once. Her lips were suddenly tight against my pubic bone. Her emerald eyes flashed victory.
My eyes bugged out. It was the most erotic thing I’d ever seen. It was my first deep throat experience and given by a fifteen year old girl doing her first blow job. Will wonders never cease. Skeeter held my member deep in her throat for three or four seconds then coughed me out.
“I did it. I did it. I swallowed the whole thing. Yeah! That’ so cool. I’ll bet not even Shana Davis can do that.”
She got a big hug from me for her accomplishment then went back to work with even more enthusiasm, if that were possible. I was so overheated that it didn’t take long until I was about to shoot the juice. Her eager mouth was fixing to milk the cow.
Skeeter…Ah… I… can’t last much longer. I’m gonna cum…gotta pull out…”
The girl gave her head a quick shake and narrowed her eyes daring me to even think about it. It was too late to think about anything by then anyway.
My orgasm hit and I went off like an overloaded transformer. Sparks flew in my brain as the currents flowed to and fro. Spunk erupted, splashing against the girls willing throat. I jerked and spasmed as though I'd been electrocuted. I came until was sure I would pass out.
My little fuck buddy lapped it up and swallowed like she'd sucked cock all her life. A more natural dick sucker had never been born than Betty (Skeeter) Davis.
“Ah woman you’ve kilt me…” I flopped around in the boat dramatically. “I’m a goner for sure. I’ll never have sex again. You blew every cell in my brain. Ah…God!” I hammed it up for the laughing girl.
She blushed, all proud of herself. “Oh stop silly." she punched at me again. "Was it really good?”
“Good? Good? She asks. No, it sucked. Sucked real good, you incredible little wench. Good god girl you’re a natural trip.”
She was so happy I thought she was going to pee herself.
We hugged and kissed and I found her ticklish spots and drove her crazy until we rolled in the boat laughing to tears.
“Hmm,” I said when we finally came to our senses. “What do you say we get back to that fishing lesson. You did want to learn how to catch fish or was I the only fish you had in mind?”
We hit a hot spot and she actually caught supper. She got so excited landing her first fish that I almost jumped overboard netting it. What a day? Skeeter was hooked on not one but two new hobbies and I figured this was going to be one hot summer at the lake.
Continued. It's going to be one fucking hot summer at the lake.
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Thanks so much for taking your time to read my story. I hope you enjoyed it and will come back for more. I've gotten two Southern series going at once now which will be a challenge. The other is Southern Comfort. As always comments are appreciated. Don't be bashful. Y'all back come now.