Long hot summer
Do you remember the summer of ’76? Probably not, you’re probably too young. So was I way back then, when I think about it now…. And I still think about it…
Atlantic shore, NJ, the sea blue as turquoise and the glare of the sun off the sand bright enough to water my eyes even behind my aviator Ray-Bans… I was on summer vacation from Brown where I was studying law on a swim scholarship. My prowess as a swimmer and scuba-diver had helped me gain a position as a life-guard on a small private beach that served the dozen or so summer homes of the mostly NYC residents who spent their vacations by the water here.
I say ‘summer-homes’ but in fact these vacation wooden cottages were somewhat palatial compared to my own little house in the town of Brookwood which I shared with my mom, a stenographer at local court. My dad had been killed flying a helicopter in Viet Nam when I was just a toddler and my mom had never re-married… It was tough for us both but my scholarship made her proud of me and if we still had to watch the pennies at least we had each other.
Indeed it was my mom, who through a lawyer friend at the courthouse, arranged my summer job as a guard at what we used to call ‘the rich folks’ beach’. And so every morning at 10am I’d take my place in the watchtower and await the arrival of that day’s coterie of sun-worshippers.
And I’ll be honest, for an 18 year old kid it was pretty much a dream job.
Most of the people who came to the beach were female, the wives and families of rich husbands and fathers who worked in NYC through the summer. If their families were lucky, dad might find the time to join them at the weekend. More often than not he didn’t…
I couldn’t understand it. These women were hot, no pun intended, the kind of beauties I dreamed about before I slept at night. And yet I noticed about them a boredom, a kind of subtle disappointment as they arrived day after day and laid down towels and coolers, marshalling their children and issuing instructions before burying their noses in the latest Harold Robbins novel, all the time sipping on home-made cocktails which were strong enough to ensure that many’s a cute bikini’d lady tottered off the beach at day’s end. I suppose money don’t buy you everything….
But I confess I watched the ladies and yes, in the privacy of my bedroom I jacked off while thinking about them. It wasn’t my fault. My girlfriend Denise, in my class at Brown, was working as a waitress in her uncle’s restaurant in Rhode Island for the season and I missed her terribly. Although I will confess that my beach ladies had a certain knowing quality that my innocent girl was sadly lacking.
Mrs. Armitage was typical. I guess she would have been maybe in her early 40s, but despite having two cute twins, a boy and a girl, she had the body and demeanour of a Playboy model. On my occasional parades up the beach I was powerless to gaze upon her perfect breasts and long legs, and more than once I became flustered as she noticed my glances and attempted to engage me in conversation…
“Isn’t it hot, Will,” she’d purr, while turning onto her stomach and offering me a view of her voluptuous ass.
“It sure is, Mrs. Armitage,” I’d offer with Wildean repartee…
And she would groan and make a point of settling her bikini bottom over those downy ass cheeks. I would notice several strands of gossamer golden pubic hair escape from her costume as I hurried back to my tower lest she observe my hardening cock….
Sometimes I made a point of cruising by Mrs. Armitage. I did so on the afternoon of June 21st, 1976 when she had been joined by some of the other wives.
“Will, our guardian and saviour,” she murmured as I passed by, “perhaps you might join the ladies and I for a small cooling libation…”
And so I sat, baking in the heat with my skinny swimmers’ frame reflected in three pairs of oversized sunglasses as the ladies looked at me. Mrs. Armitage poured me a chilled creamy drink from her cooler. I sipped. I suppose it was a Pina Colada, but to be frank it tasted like moonshine! I toasted the ladies and watched as they settled themselves upon the warm sand…
Mrs. Rosanetti was a dark and slightly plump lady with large breasts, barely contained in a bra top, a curvaceous ass squeezing from a pair of frilled briefs and short dark curling hair. I noticed her subtle stretch marks on her belly against her tan.
Mrs. Reilly was a cute, petite red-head whose alabaster skin had already begun to redden and freckle under the sun. Perhaps because she was an Irish Catholic her trim, swimsuit clad body was covered by a long tee-shirt that barely covered her thighs. I couldn’t help but notice her plump pussy mound and wondered if her pubic hair was of the same shade as her long tresses.
Mrs. Armitage was clad in a revealing white nylon two-piece that left little to my imagination. She had little golden buckles at the side of her bikini panties. Her straight blonde hair, slightly dampened by her perspiration in the heat, descended to her shoulders. Her long legs disappeared into a pair of open toed sandals, displaying her pink-painted toenails.
I sat on the sand and tried to guide my eyes away from any sight that would cause my teenage cock to swell and embarrass me. If I was only semi-hard, and I was, then I suppose I was semi-successful….
“You study law, Will,” said Mrs. Armitage, gazing at me over her sunglasses and leaning forward. “Our husbands are lawyers, it’s a very involving profession. You must be very dedicated…Have you chosen a field?”
“I’d like to be a criminal defender,” I offered…
At this all three ladies began to laugh. I raised an eyebrow as Mrs. Armitage refreshed my drink. And then her own and the girls’…
“Will, darling,” said Mrs. Reilly, “you guys always say that at first …. My Sean works in Company Law now…. He does rather well…. Or so I hear…”
“My husband is a litigator,” offered Mrs. Rosanetti. “He tells me he’ll be a partner within a year…”
“And Frederick is something to do with entertainment,” sighed Mrs. Armitage. Here she burped ever so softly. “I met Richard Dreyfuss once.”
“Its sounds like a nice situation,” I suggested.
Here the three pretty women threw back their heads and laughed loudly, tits quivering.
“It’s total shit, darling,” said Mrs. Armitage…. “I haven’t seen him in a month and I haven’t been fucked in almost a year, Ladies?”
“True….” said Mrs. Reilly.
“Anthony’s been really busy,” said Mrs. Rosanetti, and she wriggled upon the hot sand, “but he says we’ll get better….”
The conversation had turned a little too personal for me so draining my drink I stood up to go. Thankfully my dick had calmed somewhat.
“This has been a pleasure, ladies, but I got to go check on the kids in the surf,” I suggested.
“Good idea, Will,” said Mrs. Armitage. “But before you go… Would you mind awfully putting some lotion on my back?”
“And mine,” said Mrs. Rosanetti, shuffling about in the sand.
“And mine, Sweetie,” said Mrs. Reilly as she peeled her tee-shirt over her skinny shoulders.
Starting with Mrs. Armitage, I obliged.
As I smeared the coconut scented concoction over her shoulders and back I was shocked to notice her unclipping the bikini top she was wearing as she raised her arms over her head. My cock tented in my swim shorts and I moved away from her so as she would not notice my arousal. She moaned softly as I massaged the lotion over her back. The sweat from my brow dripped upon her in the summer heat.
As I moved myself away from her self-consciously I glanced to one side and saw a waiting Mrs. Roseanetti watching me with a knowing look.
“Me next, Sugar,” she whispered.
I moved toward Mrs. Roseanetti.
As I massaged her back gently, kneading the scented oil into her olive skin I watched her hands sneak around to her ass as she lowered her swimsuit panties to reveal a demi-globe of ass cheeks…. Her downed panties only just concealed my view of her pussy.
“Do me there,” she whispered.
And I did, massaging her full ass. I didn’t venture under her lowered pants. I didn’t dare.
Mrs. Reilly was last. I anointed her as I had the other ladies but as I did I noticed her small hand sneak under the sand to caress her pussy as I stroked her. She raised her ass slightly. Her other hand grasped mine and pulled me under to her tiny tits as I felt her hard nipples press through the perspiration damp material of her top. I pinched and squeezed as my rampant cock pressed into her leg. Just before I moved away I felt her shudder. She cried out. I moved her red hair from the nape of her neck and kissed her softly. She sighed. And as I arose from her I heard Mrs. Armitage and Mrs. Roseanetti giggle…
I ran down the beach to check on the kids, adjusting my errant cock in my shorts…. Everything was fine. I bathed in the cool sea and calmed myself. Eventually I strolled back toward my watchtower.
I had to pass the three girls on the way. They were splayed upon the baking sand. It was Mrs. Armitage who spoke.
“WILLIAM!, she shouted, “we want to see where you work…”
She arose delicately and moved toward me. She tottered slightly. I watched her move.
“It’s just an old shed full of stuff and the watchtower,” I said…
“Show me,” she said, “And you can call me Helen…”
She took my hand and we walked toward the tower.
The shed under the watchtower was filled with life-buoys and old junk. But there was a hammock that perhaps some surfer dude had strung up in a previous season… Mrs. Armitage, Helen, took a moment to take her bikini bottom off and then sat her ass upon the hammock. She looked pretty as she stepped out of her pants.
“Come here,” she whispered.
She wiped her wet panties across my lips as I approached her. I tasted coconut, sun-sweat and pussy. I confess I shuddered as I tasted her wantonness. Bittersweet. I kissed her forcibly as she rocked back upon the hammock. I dropped to my knees to taste her golden honeypot but she grabbed my hair and pulled me upward….
“Frederick licks me,” she said, “you’ll just fuck me….”
And I did…
She was delicious. I grabbed her thighs and forced her against the hammock as I furiously fucked her. She screamed and panted and scratched my back and ass with her long fingernails. I kneaded her tits and pinched her as she cried out, and when I was sure that she had come I shot a copious load deep within her belly.
“Are you all right,” I said afterwards as I held her.
“Are you all right, Darling boy,” she asked with a raised eyebrow as she wiped herself and put her knickers back on…
“I’m fine,” I said.
“Good,” she smiled as she opened the door to admit a blushing Mrs. Rosanetti.
“My name’s Maria,” said Mrs. Roseanetti, upon entering the shed.
“My name’s Will,” I ventured.
“I fucking know your name,” said Maria Rosanetti, “And I want to suck your cock…My husband won’t let me do it ‘though he lets his whores do it…. Please can I suck your cock?”
I couldn’t have said no because by now Mrs. Roseanetti, sorry, Maria, was kneeling in front of my groin and kneading my semi-flaccid cock with a purpose. As her lips enveloped the sticky head of my cock I gripped her at the side of her head and guided myself into her throat. I felt myself harden and thicken as she sucked furiously upon my tool. Wantonly she licked and sucked and yet her fervour oddly created a distance in me.
“Maria, STOP!” I commanded.
She released me from her busy lips with a molten plop! She looked up at me with beautiful, dark, questioning Italian eyes….
“Take your top off and let me see your tits,” I requested.
(Where was I getting this from???? I’m 19!!!! Up till now I’d slept with three girls, all virgins!!!)
She took off her bikini top and looked at me. Her tits really were magnificent.
“Good girl,” I said. “Now lick my balls…”
And she did.
When her keening cries became needy I told her she could suck on my cock. She enveloped me. As her head bobbed up and down upon me I felt her hand gently squeeze my scrotum. I was beginning to allow myself to come when I realised that both of her hands were upon me.
“Put your hands in your panties,” I commanded, “I won’t come in your mouth unless you come…”
She “ooomphed, oomphed” and did what she was told…
About 15 seconds later we both came….
Within a short time I kissed her and we shared a moment. Her dark eyes shone brightly. I remember that….
After a while and with glistening eyes Maria opened the door to the shed to admit Mrs. Reilly. I wasn’t surprised. Maria blew me a kiss as the Irish girl entered the shed.
She looked around the tacky place and sniffed.
“It’s not exactly the Hilton,” she said.
“It’s not exactly what I’m always going to do…” I offered.
She sat upon a lobster pot and looked at me. I liked her red hair and her little dress. And she smiled.
“Did you fuck them both?” she asked. “They’ve been talking about you for weeks…You are terribly cute but the sun makes them crazy…”
“A gentleman never tells,” I smiled.
“Cute,” she responded….. And she looked around again.
“Do you have a Girl,” she asked, looking at me with sincere eyes.
I answered honestly.
“She’s called Denise… We’re in college… It’s…. It’s serious……”
“But you still fuck bored ladies?”
“I’ve never done anything like today before…..”
She laughed. She tossed her hair as she laughed. Her red hair. There was a thing. I wanted to know her more.
“When we girls were talking we guessed that you would do anything… And we do get bored….”
“I’m not a whore,” I said…
“Of course you’re not…. You’re simply so pretty and so here….”
Mrs. Reilly reached over and kissed me deeply.
I reached to touch her little breasts. She kissed me again before she stopped me.
“Let’s watch the sun go down,” she said.
We walked outside to the beach and we watched the sunset and I held her hand.
“Do you mind my asking,” I questioned as we sat on the sand watching the moon rise.… “Why did you come to the shed, what did you tell the other girls you wanted to do?...”
She looked at me. Red hair falling around her face…She smiled, ruefully…
“I kinda wanted someone to fuck me in my ass…. My husband won’t do it…. He doesn’t do much, in truth…Seems silly to say…This is better….”
“I would have….” I said….
“Shsssshhhh,” she said as she leant forward to kiss me.
“HEY!” Came a voice from the boardwalk…
I looked up. My girlfriend Denise was waving at me and running down to hug me a hello…. She had decided to come up for the weekend… We embraced and I noticed my girl’s shining eyes… After our swirl I noticed Mrs. Reilly looking at Denise and her looking at my eyes…
“Oh,” I said, “This is Denise my girl and this is…. Mrs. Reilly”
“Call me Ellie,” said Mrs. Reilly… And she kissed my girl…
And then she left us to watch the moonrise….
I worked that beach the whole summer…. I had other things with other girls… I never shared another sentence with Ellie Reilly…..