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Midday, a blinding white sphere hung in the center of a blue film of sky. Two stalwart figures slowly made their way along the beach. No breeze lightened their efforts. Nothing but a level of hot baking air that settled poisonously above the sand and burned the very air in their nostrils. They stopped for some moments and looked at each other as they leant on their fishing rods.
“Sun’s got a bite like a snake, George,” said one.
The other, George, nodded.
“I can’t understand it,” said the first. “Not a soul on the beach. When we were kids we would have given anything for days like this.”
George nodded at the water, glassy still and almost alien in its complete lack of movement.
“No surf, Arthur.”
“Still,” said the one called Arthur. “Such a beautiful day.”
“You call this beautiful?” George turned away from the glare of the ocean and gestured at the yellow tract of sand burning before them. “Let’s get out of here.”
Arthur groaned and reluctantly followed. It had been a long time since he had undertaken such a walk. He was a lot older than then and carrying far more around his waist. Another of the side effects of a languid retirement.
It was hard going, the sand got hotter and softer as they climbed along the dunes. The packs with the fishing gear grew heavier, the straps cutting into their shoulders. A tingling like pins and needles began in George’s left elbow and surged up and down his arm. His doctor had warned him to take it easy after that last scare. A comfortable stroll with the dog after breakfast and dinner. Well, the doctor was right.
“Where on earth’s the car?” said Arthur when they stood at the top of a ridge and looked towards the far distance of bush-crested dunes before the forest and the road. “I don’t think I can make it.”
“Come on.” George wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and shook his head. Sweat settled like tears in his eyes, making it hard to see. He looked down at his feet and imagined himself sitting lazily back on his couch, hearing his wife Edna making them both a cup of coffee in the kitchen.
“Wait up,” said Arthur struggling behind him.
“All this and not a single fish to show for it.”
“Shutup.” George stopped. A wave of darkness curled across his vision and disappeared. The heat.
“Listen.” George blinked. Then they heard it, in the empty air a tinny whine and something like laughter.
“What is it?”
“How in hell should I know?” George looked at him. “Come on or we’ll never get out of here.”
He led the way down into the bowl of a dune and up along a ridge. Their breath was laboured and burned their throats as they made the top and stopped.
“Oh, my.” whispered Arthur.
In the deep hollow of a dune, lay a large blue beach blanket. On it were two young women. One was a short sturdily-built blonde, her hair done up in schoolgirl pigtails. She wore dark sunglasses and a black bikini. A small black radio sat atop a sturdy big red plastic drink cooler – an esky. She shimmied back and forth to its screech.
She looked up and saw them. “Hey!” She waved. “Come on down.”
The other woman lay on her stomach on a towel. She had long black hair and wore only a thin red g-string. Her big bare behind glistened with oil. She did not move as she lay with her face pressed into the towel. George and Arthur climbed unsteadily down into the bowl of the dune, sand curling and spilling about their ankles.
“Just in time for the party.” The girl in pigtails walked over to the esky. She bent over, reaching inside, the black bikini straining across her broad bottom.
“Oh my,” said Arthur.
“We’re on our mid-semester college break.” She held up two mugs and some vodka. “Drink?”
The men nodded.
“Great.” Reaching back into the esky she dumped ice in the mugs. “You can sit on my towel.”
Looking at each other they did as she said, unshouldering their fishing bags and placing their rods on the sand beside them.
“Here.” She offered the mugs. The vodka felt a relief trickling down their throats, knocking their heads slightly off balance under the heat of the sun.
“Good, huh?” She took a drink from a mug of her own. ” Have some more.” She looked at the girl on the towel and giggled. “We’ve already started.”
Arthur smiled and lifted his glass. She filled it. George held up his for her as well.
“Is your friend allright?” he asked gesturing to the girl on the towel.
“Sasha? She’s just zonked. Hey, do you like to dance?”
“I used to,” said Arthur. He patted his paunch. “Now I just watch.”
“Great! Watch this.”
She turned the radio up. Loud tinny rock music played. Lifting her hands above her head she rotated her hips like a belly dancer. Arthur drank his drink and smiled at her. She was a saucy little package and looking better by the minute, pigtails bouncing, her oversized breasts jiggling in their black bikini bra. “Lovely,” he said. “Keep it up.”
She grinned and turned around, ataköy escort sticking her bottom out and twisting it around. George enjoyed watching her too. Arthur licked his lips and turned his head to look at her friend Sasha lying on the towel. It was a good view. Her big tanned arse sucked up the red g-string until it disappeared invitingly down the crack like a magic trick. The smell of coconut oil filled his head. He would have liked to follow the string to the very bottom of that magic.
The girl dancing squealed and caught her foot in the sand. She fell forward into George’s arms, all giggling boobs and bum. He got an arm around her waist. She kissed his forehead and climbed off him.
“Thanks,” she said. “Whoo, I’m diizzy.”
Arthur moved across the towel for her but she turned and sat on the esky in front of them.
“Golly, I’m gone.” She reached for the vodka. “You want some more?”
They nodded. She filled their glasses and took a drink from the bottle herself.
“God, look at her,” she said.
They did. Sasha didn’t move.
“She’s getting a tan, how come I’m not?”
“That’s because you’re dancing,” said Arthur.
“I don’t want to dance,’ she pouted. “I want a tan.”
“You don’t want to get burnt,” said Arthur.
She smiled. “You know something, you remind me of my grandfather.”
Arthur nodded but didn’t say anything.
“Hey, you.” She pointed at George. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Susan, but every one calls me Susie.”
“I’m George. I don’t care what you call me, just don’t call me late for dinner.”
Susie laughed. “God, that’s a crack-up. Can you get some oil out of my bag, George?”
He turned and dug into her bag and found the oil.
“You better put some of that on me before I melt.” She opened her legs. “Here.” She slapped the inside of a thigh. “Right here.”
George looked at Arthur who nodded. George poured some oil and started rubbing it into her ankle.
“Mmmm, you do that good.”
“It’s been a while,” said George.
“Since when?” she asked
“Since I’ve had a touch of a girl like this.”
Susan sat there as his rough wrinkled hands massaged her ankle. She smiled. George moved up to her knee. Arthur watched her intently.
“That’s a lovely pair of swimmers,” said Arthur.
“Aren’t they?” She parted her legs more. George ran his hand along the inside of her strong thigh. “They’re elastic. Have a feel.”
Looking nervously at Arthur, George placed a trembling hand on the taut black mound.
“That’s not a feel.” She laughed. “You’ve got to feel the fabric.” Leaning back on her hands across the esky she spread her legs. “Go on.”
George put his hand on her crotch.
“That’s better.” She grinned. “Feel it?”
George squeezed, relishing the resistance of firm mound and spongy mass of pubic hair beneath.
“That’s elastic, allright.”
“My, my, my,” Arthur chuckled, his face red with the drink.
“Oh, yeah!” she giggled. “I love wearing them”
“They’re so-” George squeezed again. “So tight.”
“They sure are! You should feel them from the inside!” She spread her legs as far as she could. The esky beneath her made a loud squeaking noise. “Oh, excuse me,” she said and blushed.
George looked at Arthur whose breath came out in a loud wheezing rhythm.
“You can jump and run and do just about anything in them,” she said.
George’s fingers wriggled up to her waistband.
“They won’t rip.” She giggled again.
“Oh, my,” Arthur groaned as George’s hand disappeared down the panties.
“Ooh!” She squirmed on the esky. “Golly that tickles!”
“My God,” said Arthur, bending closer towards George’s fingers wriggling inside the panties. “I can smell-“
“You’re rude,” said Susan.
“You’ll have to forgive us,” said George. The heat inside the bowl of the dune was incredible, sweat stuck to his forehead like a sludge. “You’ve caught us at our very worst.” He winked and rubbed his finger along the split between her fat hairy lips.
She looked at him for a moment with her big blue eyes. A naughty smile grew across her face. “I forgive you. Just as long as you’re good from now on.”
He tickled the moistening bud of her clitoris. She closed her eyes. “Mm-mm, that’s very good.”
The two men looked at each other and chuckled.
“Golly it’s warm now,” she said. “When it’s hot at home I like to walk around the house with nothing on. I do aerobics in front of the television like that, all my stretches, kicks and jumps.”
“Lucky television,” said George trying a finger in her quim.
“You think so?” She looked at him seriously as his finger did its delicate probing. “When I was a little girl I always dreamed of being a ballet dancer. But when I grew I didn’t grow tall, just big, you know.”
George smiled reassuringly and nodded. He inserted another finger and her cunt clasped deliciously about him.
“I suppose I’m with friends here, aren’t I?” avcılar escort She looked at one and then the other. She sighed, her breasts swelling inside her bikini bra. “I mean, it’s not as if anything’s going to happen, huh?”
“Certainly not,” said George.
“Unthinkable,” said Arthur.
“Just what I thought.” She unfastened her bra and flung it in the air.
Arthur laughed. She looked at him, noting the bald head, the thick neck and the bright piggy eyes.
“You’re very secretive.” She pushed out her chest for him to admire. “Are you being rude?”
Arthur shook his head and watched goggle-eyed as George’s wrist pushed down her panties to reveal a triangle patch of light fluffy curls. The ripe smell of quim saturated the hot still air.
“Oh-oh!” She squirmed. George cupped her cunt in his hand and squeezed it lovingly. She was a delight to hold, so firm, full, and obscenely willing. A shudder rippled through her. “You’re so nice, like Sasha’s dad. I mean step-dad, Philip. I slept over her place last week and I got a cold. He rubbed Vapour-rub on my chest for hours and was so nice to me.
Arthur raised a hand to her and stopped, not at all sure of himself.
“I ask my dad to rub some on my chest but he won’t. He says I’m too big for a daddy to be touching his girl.” She looked at Arthur. “Do you think I’m too big?”
“Why, no. You’re just right.” He put a hand on the nearest breast and lovingly squeezed.
“Mm-mm,” she said. “I think daddy really thinks that too. Sometimes he comes into the lounge-room when I’m doing those exercises in front of the teevee. He sits in his chair, just reading his paper as though he’s forgotten I’ve got no clothes on. Not even panties on my bottom. It’s usually when Mum’s out. I lie on my back and do all my kicks and splits.”
Arthur’s head spun with images of the delicious angel spreading her pretty pussy for a lucky spectator. He squeezed both robust titties, teasing the fat pale nipples into hard bullet-like nubs.
“Then just as I’m really getting into my exercises,” she said. “All of a sudden he either jumps up and goes into the bathroom or locks himself and Mum in their bedroom for a long, long time as soon as she gets home.”
“Maybe you make him feel tired,” said George. Arthur snickered.
“You think so?” She looked at him her big blue eyes widening even more. “Because the other day he got really angry and said a lot of bad things. He came out of the bathroom, his face all red. I was on the carpet practising my splits and he started shouting. Calling me a . . . calling me a slut.”
Arthur shook his head in dismay.
“I couldn’t help crying. He said all I wanted to do was flash my . . . pussy around the house.” She looked at George. “That’s not very nice is it?”
“No it isn’t,” he replied loving the delicious stickiness of her on his fingers.
“No. And I was so sad. I wanted him to hold me but he wouldn’t. Why couldn’t he have opened his arms to me? Let me sit on his lap like I used to? Wouldn’t you do that? I mean if I was your little girl wouldn’t you watch me exercise for you?”
“Definitely,” said Arthur.
“That’s what I thought. So I do them for Sasha’s dad. He’s nice. He sits and watches me for hours.” She smiled. “Sometimes I do something rude. I took a banana from the fruit-bowl and started kissing it, like it was my boyfriend? He laughed, so I put it you-know-where between my legs and kissed it the other way. He liked that.”
“I’ll bet he did,” said George.
“You’re not staining my bikini are you?” She looked down anxiously. “My daddy’s gone funny since then and makes me take off my underwear in front of him. He even sniffs it sometimes. Can you believe that, smelling your own little girl’s panties in front of her?”
“That’s terrible,” said Arthur. He stopped fondling the gorgeous big titties and gave George a guilty look. “Maybe we’d better take them off,” he whispered in a quavering voice.
“What a good idea!” She clapped her hands and lay on her back. The esky squeaked in protest. George and Arthur grinned at each other.
“After you,” whispered Arthur.
“No, your turn,” insisted George.
Arthur’s piggy face beamed as he leaned forward and took an anxious hold of her bikini. Susan obliged by lifting first her bum and legs from the esky top. She waved her feet in the air as he pulled the bikini over her ankles.
“Look at that,” whispered George.
“Indeed,” said Arthur.
“That’s better,” she said, her full blonde pussy flashing before their amazed faces. “Do you think he’ll find anything? Can you check?”
Arthur looked at George who nodded. Arthur held the bikini up. It was soiled, a dark wet patch over the crotch. He pressed the garment to his face and breathed deep. It stank with a wild pungent odour.
“Well?” she asked innocently.
“Nothing,” said Arthur. He handed the bikini to George who sniffed it and wiped it rudely across his face. “Not a thing,” he said.
“Good.” She grinned. “Sometimes beylikdüzü escort things just happen. The other day I was using my sun-lamp. I covered myself in oil, put on my eye-mask and laid back on the carpet.” She ran her hands over her stomach and spread her strong thighs. “I heard a noise somewhere in the house but that didn’t worry me. I knew daddy was home.”
Arthur looked anxiously at George who only nodded. Her legs opened, a plump full cunt peeked out shyly from its halo of blonde fuzzy curls.
“I must have fallen asleep,” she said. “Because I had this wonderful dream. I was lying on a beach instead of my bedroom floor and this big lizard came along. His skin was blue and green and all shimmery in the sunlight.
Bending forward Arthur kissed the soft inside of her leg. It was slick with coconut oil sunscreen.
“The Lizard looked at me with his big golden eyes. Then he poked out his long blue tongue and licked me all over. Kiss, kiss, kiss.”
A shiver ran through her as Arthur pressed his face between her thighs, rubbing his grey stubbled cheek over her deliciously soft skin.
“He licked up all the oil. Everywhere. And then he kissed me- Oh, I can’t say it. It’s too rude!” She moved her hands across her breasts and squeezed the nipples. Arthur peeled back the pretty flower-petal lips of quim and made a long slow sweep between them with his tongue.
“All I could say was, “Mr Lizard! Mr Lizard!” But he just watched me with his eyes. Then he opened his mouth and roared and this white goo shot out of it into the air. Just like a fountain of icecream.”
Arthur slurped greedily, burying his tongue in quim. She groaned, closing her legs about his head. George leant anxiously over Arthur’s shoulder to see.
“It went everywhere. I was covered in it. And I woke up and do you know what? There was goo all over my boobies!”
George winked at her. He crawled on his hands and knees across the burning sand. Leaning over her he closed his mouth about a breast.
“It was on my tummy, on my legs, everywhere! I was so surprised I went straight into my daddy’s room to show him. He was looking at the mirror, doing up his trousers. I said, “Daddy, look what’s happened!” He turned around and there was goo on his shirt and I laughed and said, “Daddy, you were dreaming too!'” She stirred on the esky and reached between George’s legs. She put her soft hand on the front of his pants and squeezed. He groaned, his mouth full of tit.
“He got really angry and chased me out of the room. Can you imagine that? Daddy with his trousers falling down to his knees, his thing bobbing everywhere as he roared and chased his nude little girl down the hall? I don’t know what would have happened if he’d caught me. He ran back to his room and locked the door. He was crying and I was crying, saying “Daddy, what’s wrong? Look at me, what is it?” But he wouldn’t come out even though I sat outside and waited for ages until mum came home.”
George felt the heat of the sun scorching his back. He breathed hard through his nose. The fat tit got harder in his mouth.
“Oooh,” she sighed. “Where’s your friend, George? I hope he’s not being rude.” She undid his fly and reached inside. George almost choked.
“That’s good. I thought he might have been doing something with his tongue. For a minute I thought he was trying to poke it in my bottom.” She suddenly heaved on the esky, pushing her angel arse into Arthur’s face. He spluttered for breath before taking a firmer hold of her buttocks and squeezing.
“I’m just a little girl, remember.” She undid George’s trousers. They fell down to his knees. “And nothing’s to happen.”
The sun stung George’s bare backside.
“What’s this?” she exclaimed. “A big purple sausage all covered in veins!” Grabbing his dick in her soft little fist she squeezed. “Oh, I felt it! I felt it move!” She squeezed again. The pain was so sharp George left off her tit and gasped for air. Tears filled his eyes.
“I’m not hurting am I?” she asked.
He looked down at her innocent smile. Arthur’s head was planted firmly between her thighs, making eager hungry sounds, like a pig at a trough. George felt his jaw go slack. This was madness. He shook his head.
“That’s good,” she said. “Come here.” She pulled on him and he struggled forward on his knees. She prodded his dick at her tits. His dick got very hard. “I think he likes that,” she said. “He likes to kiss my boobies.”
George tried to speak but couldn’t. Not a word was to be found in the drunken confusion swirling inside his head.
“Ooh, ooh, all over my boobies. It’s like a big wormy tickler,” she said. Her pointed rubbery nipples cruelly scraped the sensitive underside of his dick.
“He’s made a little drop of white stuff, just like baby oil.” She pulled him closer until he was leaning right over, supporting himself on the esky which shrieked under the weight. His heart pounded in his chest. She rubbed the old man’s stiff sweaty schlong up and down her cleavage.
“Getting all slippery, huh?” she said.
George’s head reeled, the heat and the vodka making thick grey clouds of his thoughts. Susan pumped on the prick, her big blue eyes staring in excited concentration. His dick felt sickly swollen, bloated to an obscene proportion. It throbbed with pain and frustration.
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