Veronica at the Beach

Veronica whimpered, but resolved that none of them would see her cry. She took deeper breaths, and slowly let each go. She wondered how badly it might hurt, and reasoned that the oil should make whatever happened that much easier. Sally’s breasts were on her shoulders, and she could feel the aquamarine like a small pebble digging into her shoulder blade. Sally’s backside was positioned near her own, and bounced up and down with the effort to keep her pinned. She thought of what Big Jim was seeing – two young girl asses in front of him. She wildly thought maybe he’ll get confused, maybe he even prefers pressing into Sally. But then again, he’s had Sally, and could have her again any time he wanted.

He slapped her ass again, and she forced herself to relax a bit. “So you like that, bitch?” His paws traced her valley again, stopping at the anus, which twitched at his touch.

“She’s a virgin,” Sally sing-songed.

Big Jim grunted. “Technically, she could still be a virgin. Would you like that, huh? How much do you still want your cherry, bitch?” Veronica thought immediately of putting Big Jim in the palm of her hand, or licking her lips after he came in her mouth. Then Big Jim’s finger poked her asshole, she squirmed, and she knew that her mother still had things to learn.

Veronica stretched her legs out straight behind her, but Big Jim was between them, spreading them further. When she thought she would break, he stopped, leaned closer, so she felt his body heat. There was a pause, like the lull between the lightning and the thunder. She waited, and willed her body to relax. She wondered how many people were still around watching her. Getting their jollies watching her. Then another thought stuck her – what if they were waiting their own turn with her?

Big Jim laid his cock on her backside, rolling it over each cheek and between them. As he did so, Veronica felt it growing, getting hotter and larger, in her mind becoming sharper and more knife-like. She lost herself in the sound of the waves still rumbling against the shore, and in the golden moonlight bathing the beach, and imagined herself far away on one of the billion pinpoint stars, looking down on the craziness of young adults.

“That enough foreplay? Brace yourself, cherry.”

Veronica said, “Please, don’t.”

“What did you say, bitch? I didn’t hear you. You want to say it louder, or should we just wait for the moans to end?”

She’d never said it before in her life, but she was learning that there was a first time for everything. “Fuck you,” she said. “Fuck you fuck you fuck you!”

Big Jim laughed, panting, and drew himself up to ram her big time. When she told me the story later, I knew how degrading, horrifying and humiliating this moment was, and yet when she told it, there was a trace of pride, of challenge met and even of excitement in the whole situation. Veronica can be a complex lady.

From behind, she heard a low growl, building into a war cry. It ended with the crash of body upon body, and the thudding of feet finding support in the sand. She no longer felt Big Jim’s hands poking, grabbing and scratching. She no longer felt his filthy, hot log rubbing her most private areas. Jeff had slammed into Big Jim; the impetus forced them both closer to the scorching bonfire.

The tackle scared Nick and Sally, who both lost their hold on Veronica. She reached out with her free hand and took Nick’s balls in the palm of her hand, and squeezed and stood up at the same time, lifting him until he couldn’t tiptoe any higher. She would have ripped them off if she could, but Sally tripped her. Nick rolled on the ground, laughing in pain, shouting, “I got to second base with Ronnie!”

From the ground, Veronica looked at the battle between the two men. It looked like something off a Greek vase, where the naked wrestlers are locked chest to chest, thigh between thigh, and nose to nose. Big Jim had the weight advantage, but Jeff had the benefit of surprise and purpose. Big Jim’s hands were slippery with oil, so he could not grip Jeff in a hold.

Sally got Veronica’s attention by twisting her left tit; and Veronica paid her back the same way. They rolled over each other like puppies, with small scratches and pinches, until Veronica sat on top of Sally’s belly, while Sally flailed her legs. Veronica heard the sound of applause, and saw the ring of onlookers had decided she was the winner. They got up, breathing hard, both crying a little, and then turned and fell into each other’s arms. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Sally sobbed.

“Sure,” thought Veronica.

Jeff and Big Jim wrestled until they could barely stand. Then, tentatively, they each took a small step back. That’s how it ended. No great crushing victory for either man; just a realization that they had better stop. Jeff staggered on the beach, and looked as tired and wasted as Veronica felt.

She ran up to him, and put an arm on his shoulder. She couldn’t find the words to thank him. He turned toward her, and let her bury her face on his chest. They stood like that for several moments, until people tired of looking at them. She felt safe in Jeff’s arms. She brushed a tear from her eye, and her hand strayed on his smooth, curved chest. It surprised her that his nipple was so hard. She was tempted to bite it. Then she noticed the effect she was having on him. It seemed something had been placed between them – a long, hard, hot, trembling bat.

Well after all, he was a baseball player, wasn’t he?

Every time Veronica tells me this story, we end up having unbelievable sex. I know what you’re thinking – she’s in bed with me, but fantasizing about her baseball player and his bat. I say, so? I’m fantasizing, too, about Veronica, four years ago, and it begins when she walks into the cove.