Old Fisherman and the Babysitter

The old fisherman sat out at the end of the dilapidated dock in his lopsided deck chair. Though it was getting on toward evening the sun was nice and warm. He was fishing really light; a homemade bamboo pole and an old reel he maybe got before he had whiskers. Duck-taped it to the pole and wound it with ten pound test. Fishing flounder didn't take much gear. He had a card of hooks, a tin with some weights and floats and some leader. Minnows in an old milk bottle and a plastic paint bucket for his catch. He had caught some.

It was fine fishing the Florida canals. Didn't even have to use the boat. He could have sat on Sadie's lanai and dropped his line into the canal right there. But the flat fish bit better out where the canal met the main channel. Pilings from an older dock were fish heaven, even if they stole his bait sometimes.

He pitched his line out there and let it drift along the bottom, tucked the rod under his arm and closed his eyes. Didn't give a damn if he fell asleep.

Maybe he did snooze. Next thing he knew his chair was shaking and it wasn't a strike. Someone was coming out the dock. Probably one of the Douglas kids. Brats would bug him with too many questions. He pretended to sleep.

"Mind if I lay on my towel here?"

The voice could have been a boy's, but something in the lilt of it told him it wasn't. He squinted one eye open and peeked back over his shoulder.

PYT. Girl in her teens, wrapped in a colorful thing. Beach bag on her shoulder.

"S'a free country. I don't own the dock. It's a little rickety. Two of us might send it in the water.

"I'll hold real still. I just want to catch some rays before the sun goes down. Been stuck in the house all day with those Douglas brats while their momma's at work. She doesn't pay me crap, but I get a bed in the pool house and the Spring in Florida. Hooee! OK, I'll shut up now."

She laid her wrap out on the dock and lay down on it, plugged her earbuds in and thumbed a tune on her iPod. The fisherman went back to his fishing.

Maybe he dozed again but after a while he noticed his chair was jiggling. Behind him the girl was making funny little noises. He peeked over his shoulder again. She was still stretched out on her wrap but her legs were spread wide and swinging side to side in time to music only she could hear. Sometimes her hips did a little twist and bump, like she was dancing horizontally.

Her body was oiled until it was shiny and she had the shoulder straps of her bikini pulled down so as not to leave stripes. Her puppies swelled up above the fabric. The bikini bottoms clung tightly to her, accenting her hipbones and the rounded hill where her dancer's thighs met.

The fisherman felt his pecker spark and he turned away. He wasn't dead yet, but he had traveled a long way from the creature behind him. Oh, he still had it together. He got his old gal Sadie yelling and sweating every Friday night, sometimes on Sunday afternoon and now and again on a Wednesday. When the gear below the belt was recovering he could make some fun with his hands and mouth. But Sadie was a sweet old bird and didn't require a lot of satisfying. This little chicken was another story, though she may have never been with a man.

He thought he had a strike but it was a false alarm. Snag had grabbed the hook and took it away when he tried to pull it in. He cussed some but got it rerigged and out in the water again.

The girl was watching him.

"That was cool. You really know what you're doing."

"Been doing it for a long time."

"Around here?"

"All around Florida; out in the Keys. Down to the islands some."

"You sure are brown. You must've spent all your time in the sun. Don't you worry about cancer and stuff?"

"Not much. I just naturally tan. I think I got some Seminole and Cuban and maybe some black folks mixed in there somewhere."

"You seem pretty strong for an old guy. You make me think of one of those tough twisty trees."

"I'll take that. You make me think of a bowl of peach ice cream."

"I guess I'll take that too. Speaking of; I don't tan like you. I freckle or burn. Can you put some of this stuff on the middle of my back? I can't reach there."

She handed him the tube of lotion.

"You don't have to. The sun is pretty low."

He took the tube and knelt down next to her. His knees hurt. He didn't care. Even in the hot sun her body was cool.

"Hey. That feels so nice. I was looking at your hands and they looked kind of rough. But that's good, just a little scratchy; like a cat's tongue. I hope you'll let me draw your hands. They have real character. Make sure you get the top of my butt. I hate it when I get a burn there. It itches like crazy. And hey, while you're there can you put some on my butt cheeks and the backs of my legs.

"You're teasing me, you know. You could do that part yourself."

"I know, but you're old so I don't worry and besides you are doing it so nice. I just want to melt away. Insides of my legs, please."

He did as he was told. He touched almost nothing he was not supposed to touch. When he got to her feet he cheated a little, letting his thumbs massage the tender spot in the arch and the ball of her foot. He pulled on her toes with the slippery cream sometimes pinching gently the little web between them. She kept her face buried in her towel. One hand tucked beneath her hipbone. She was humming her funny tune again. Her buttocks began to clench and loosen, clench and loosen. He pretended to ignore this, concentrating on pressing his hard thumbs gently into the sole of her feet. Suddenly she shivered all over, gave a sharp squeak and then lay still. He laid her feet on the wrap and returned to his chair. She slept.

It was almost dark when she woke. Quietly she gathered her things then came to stand beside his chair.

"Thanks for the super massage. I've never had that feet thing. You're good. I'm so relaxed. See you soon."

She planted a sweet wet kiss on his cheek at the corner of his mouth. He swore he felt the tip of her tongue. For a moment a sound like crashing waves beat in his ears.

"Old fool," he muttered to himself as he gathered his gear and headed off to Sadie's.

A couple of days later he had taken his spot again when he felt the familiar trembling of the dock. As luck would have it, he got a strike at just that moment. From the way the pole bent it was a pretty big one, and feisty. Took a while to land; serious old flounder, almost eighteen inches. Make some good eating.

He was removing the hook when she spoke.

"You're not going to kill it, are you?"

"I usually eat 'em."

"But she's so beautiful, and strong."

He never found fish particularly beautiful, least of all flounder, with their silly lopsided eyes on one side of their heads. But t we girl was staring into his bucket with big, sad eyes.

"Would you let her go, for me? I know people do that. Catch them and then let them go. Could you do that?"

"He was going to be my dinner."

"You can share mine. See. I've got KFC, five pieces, and biscuits and coleslaw. O.K.? Please let her go."

"I could do that."

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you. You just made my day."

She flung her arms around him and kissed him all over his face.

"Easy, easy now."

"Hey, can I touch it? Before you put back in."

The old fisherman reached into the bucket and skillfully snared the fish in a gill. Lifting it out, the thing struggled, arched its body, gasped. The gills were crimson and he knew that the hidden parts of the girl were just as bright. She reached out a pale hand with silver-green nail polish and laid it on the back of the flounder. The fish pushed against her palm.

"Ooh, she's so alive. I can feel her life. Look how she is brown on top like your skin and white underneath like mine. That's so you can't see her when she's on the sand and can't see her if you're underneath her and her body is above you against the sky. Her teeth aren't big but she sure can hide. So how'd you catch her?"

"I know what they like to eat. How do you know it's a girl?"

"Girls are bigger than the boys."

"Ow! Those little fins are prickly. You can let her go now. You made her bleed and she made me bleed. Put her back in."

The Old Fisherman took a last look at his catch and dropped the fish into the estuary. It floated for a second, then with a twist it disappeared.

"I'm bleeding and I don't dare put it in my mouth. I has fish stuff on it."

He took her hand and examined her thumb.

"It's just a little prick."

He gave it a little kiss then slipped it into his mouth. She leaned against him and he thought he felt a little shiver.

"Feel better now?"

"Mmhmm. That's nice. That fishy stuff doesn't bother you?"

"Never. It's just clean salty animal. What we call food is worse stuff to put in your body."

"It doesn't bother you to eat them? They're so alive."

"I think the Indian in me says a little prayer thanking the fish and the life spirit for feeding me. Some day I'll give me back to them."

"Really?"

"Yep. It's in my will. Take me out beyond the three mile line and drop me in. Full circle."

"That makes me sad."

"Makes me happy."

They didn't talk then, just sat on the edge of the dock leaning against each other with their feet in the water until the mosquitoes made them go.

It was a few days until he saw her again. He tried not to think about her because it made him feel foolish. But her pale smooth limbs drifted through his head; the crushed strawberry red of her mouth; a certain mole just under her right shoulder blade; her tight ass.

She was quiet; spread out her towel with only a small 'hi'. He fished.

"Do you think they're too small?"

"Excuse me? What's that?" He had just lit himself a cigarette and was enjoying the silent companionship.

"Do you think they're small? Nick called them mosquito bites and laughed at me. I mean, they're not as big as Cheryl Lynn's. Hers are double Cs, but mine're not nothing. What do you think?"

He exhaled a smoke ring.

"Don't know any Sherl Lynn, but Hon, you are really well put together. It all fits. Don't worry about it. And they may get bigger. You got time yet."

"Oh, now, wait. What did you say? You look at me. Look at these and tell me that."

He craned his neck over his shoulder. Her top was off and her breasts gleamed with oil. Two lovely cones each rose to a perfect puffy lavender dome with a dark pink button at the crest. Suddenly his mouth ached.

She sat up and squeezed one with each hand.

"See, they're not small. There's plenty to grab onto. Here, you do it."

In a heartbeat she was beside him and had taken his big, rough hand and wrapped it around her right breast.

"See, plenty."

Before he could stop himself he said, "A friend of mine told me, 'more than a mouthful is a waste.'

"Really? Most guys want them big, right. Do you agree with your friend? Can you prove it?"

She rubbed her breast back and forth against his cheek squeezing the soft dome against his mouth.

"Nick never bothers with them very much. He just dives for the ..."

"Wait, wait, wait, young miss. I can't be touching you like this. I could already be in deep shit. Excuse me. Maybe, you'd better go."

"Oh why? It's not about how old I am, is it? I'm old enough. Damn!

She started to stomp away, making the dock shake, but then she stopped.

No! No, I want this. I want this bad. But you're right, I don't want to get you in trouble. Damn. No, wait a second."

She darted back to her stuff.

"Here. Here, would this do it? She pulled a paperback and a pen out of her beach bag and started scribbling on a back page.

"What's you name?"

He told her.

She wrote furiously then tore the page out of the book.

"Well, how about that?"

"I, Krystal Lassiter hereby agree that I have given John Norton my solemn permission to touch me intimately, without any reservation and with my free will."

It was signed and dated.

"Will that do?"

She stuffed it in his pocket. "I don't know ..."

"I don't care. Where were we?"

There was color in her pale cheeks and moisture on her carved upper lip as but she climbed onto his lap. Again, the sweet down of her breast caressed his leathery cheek.

"Your beard prickles me. I can't figure if I like it or not. But please kiss my nipple before I go crazy."

"You're already pretty crazy, messing with an ugly old dude ten times your age."

"I can't help it. The idea of your hands and your tough mouth have been bothering me. I thought of them ... Wait till I show you the picture I drew. It got me hot. Please, stop teasing. Put it in your mouth."

"You're the one who's teasing. And I shouldn't."

"You have to."

She grabbed his gnarled hand and placed it in her lap and started rocking slowly against it. There was real heat at his fingertips. She pushed her breast hard against his mouth. Finally, he could resist the soft corolla no longer and let the tip of his tongue circle it. She shivered all over.

"Finally. Now bite. Please, just a little."

She squeezed it so it swelled and turned tight and purple against his lips.

He was happy he could use his own teeth. Gently he pressed them into the soft pink.

"Oh my goodness." Her hips surged against his hand. "Please don't stop. Just exactly like that. Oh. My. God."

She fumbled with her bikini bottom, pulling it aside under his fingers. Then she placed her hand on top of his fingers pushing them into the slick, smooth hollow.

"In. Please. In. Just one for now. Yuh. Like that. Oh, like that."

Gnarled and twisted, his long brown finger slid right into her. He braced the thick pad of his thumb on the plump flesh above her clit and began to pull his thumb and finger together.

"Okay, okay just hold it like that, just quietly for a second. Yuh, wait, wait."

He felt her insides flutter and she squeaked as a little gush bathed his finger. Then she was rocking against it. Again, she put her hand on his.

"Please. Another one. Put another one in. Now. Please, right now. Yes! And suck my nipple. Yuh. Suck it in deep. Yuh."

She had her mouth on the top of his head and he felt her hot breath on his scalp. He massaged her clit now and let his middle two fingers stroke the swollen puffball inside her. She rocked now steadily against his hand, forcing it deeper.

"Aah. Aah. Aah. Aah." Her cries were coming from deep in her belly.

He felt his hand cramping and fluttered his fingers into her, pulling them out slowly.

Suddenly her whole body started to shake just like a fish as it is pulled from the water. Musky liquid pooled in his hand. She stiffened hard against him, chin high, mouth gasping, legs and toes pointed straight. She seemed to stop breathing.

Then she curled against him as one aftershock after another shook her.

His lap was wet and most of it was her, because he could still feel his prick wedged neatly between her buttocks. Every time she shuddered a little shock went through him. He knew he could turn her over if he wanted to; take her like a dog, just pump into that tight pink crevice. But this moment was too sweet. He waited.

After a while she planted a few of her soft wet kisses on his cheek, nose and head. She smiled.

"Thank you. That was truly wonderful. I don't think I have ever felt it with my whole body like that. That was fine and I got so wet, didn't I. You've still got it, Mr. Fisherman. "

She wiggled her ass on him and became aware of the stiffness under the damp denim.

"Oh, I'm sorry. That was so selfish of me. I just was all about getting myself off. But hey, look at you. No, wait a minute, let me look at you."

She hopped off his lap and knelt in from of him, unzipping him like she was opening a present on Christmas morning. His twisted cock popped into view and she giggled.

"He's cute."

She bent forward and gave the swelling head a little kiss. The fisherman groaned.

"Ooh, we like that, don't we?"

She licked the underside with the pointed tip of her tongue. Then she did it again with the flat of her tongue from his balls to the tip, where he was beginning to ooze. She took his nuts in her dimpled fingers.

"They're so pink. I didn't expect them to be pink."

He jerked as she gave them a little squeeze.

"That's OK, I'll be tender."

Then she got down to the serious business of swallowing his cock. He was not yet fully erect and he felt the head slide along her tongue and into her throat. The smooth curve of her neck swelled as his cock entered it deeply; then her cheeks hollowed as she pulled him out with lots of suction, her puffy lips clasped tight around his shaft. She gave a little growl, bathed the thick head with her tongue and took it deep in her throat again.

He had heard that this generation of kids "hooked up" all the time and the girls learned to give expert BJs. This young lady proved it. She fucked his cock with her mouth; now long slow strokes, now short and quick; all the time ticking his sack with an occasional stroke on his a.h.

Her little grunts and moans were beginning to make him dizzy. His dick was now full length and the head swollen. Her nostrils stretched wide and white at the rims, her mouth drooled slimy and thick around his cock and her eyes were wide and wet.

He could tell she was hungry for his cum, stroking tightly with her hand and mouth, pulling the skin tight until he was swollen as big as he could et. Her deep seablue eyes peered up at him, begging.

"Come, come, come, please, I want it. Now. I want it."

That was it. His balls tightened against his body and his hips begin to lift. He jerked hard into her mouth. She took every thrust.

And then he exploded, but she didn't spill his seed. She let him pour his thick spunk deep into her throat; then milked his rod to get every last drop out; pussycat cleaning him all over with her tongue. He shuddered every time she touched his tenderness and the aftershocks squeezed the last droplets from him.

When he woke it was almost dark. He was all zipped up and she was relaxing against his leg. He stroked her hair and it felt somehow different; perhaps it was the dampness, but it reminded him of the sea. She smiled and her teeth and eyes caught the new moonlight coming low over the water.

"Thank you, that was wonderful." They both said it at the same time and laughed.

Her face grew solemn.

"I hope you won't be upset but I guess that's it. I have to leave tomorrow to go back home. But I'm so glad I chose you to "wake me up". Might people will be pleased.

He was about speechless; stroking her hair and enjoying the feel of her cheek as she pressed the back of his hand to it.

"My pleasure."

She smiled and asked a question with her eyes.

"Can you do me a little favor now? I'm going to swim home, so can you keep my things until I ask for them again? There's just my little bag with my towel, lotion and book of Andersen's Fairy Tales. And this."

And with a swift movement she slipped out of her bathing suit, planted a deep kiss that tasted of the ocean on his mouth and dove backward into the water. She rose into a graceful backstroke that flashed her mouthful-sized breasts one and then the other at the moon. A phosphorescent froth stirred around her. She waved and dove again. Curiously, at that moment a dolphin slapped its tail just where she had disappeared.

He stared into the night but she had vanished. But from that part of the night came a yearning cry. It was like a gull and whalesong and a woman as she crests into ecstasy. He wanted to leap into the water and follow that sound anywhere, but he was so exhausted the felt moored to his chair.

He did not see her again that summer. And the mystery deepened. When he bumped into Mrs. Douglas at the Piggly Wiggly he casually mentioned that he had met her babysitter while fishing; a charming young lady. She looked at him as though he had two heads.