Carefree Cove Ch. 01

Tom dug his sketch pad out of his portfolio, and showed him the initial sketch of Maria. A wild smile on her face, her dark hair blowing out and her thumbs hooked in her top to reveal the nipple covered mountains inside. The men looked appreciatively at the drawing, clucking and shifting uncomfortably on the bench. "A good start, Tom," Mutt enthused, "looking forward to the final product."

A junker pulled up and Renee got out, wearing a polka dot bikini with a white shirt draped open over her shoulders. "Deal me out, please; I've got some business tonight," Tom said quickly.

"Robbing the cradle, Tommy?" Mutt jibed, casting a glance at Renee over his shoulder.

"No, she's going to draw for me. If she's any good, I'll give her some help going to school."

Hoot shook his head. "Three generations of trailer trash in that family, Tom. Her mother ran around on his husband and ran off when he shipped out after 9/11. Her dad bought it in Afghanistan, shot during the liberation of Kabul. Her grandmother was a slut too, and now she's drunk most of the time."

"I thought you religious types believed in redemption for all," Tom replied. "Especially liberal Methodists."

"Where there's life there's hope, Tom, but the odds aren't good in this case."

"It's just drawing lessons."

"Make sure it stays that way, Son" Freddy said. "Her granny was a bitch from day one, and now she's a drunk bitch. Be just like her to go after you with a shotgun." He pointed his index finger and sent an imaginary round at him.

"Shit, we're just drawing each other in broad daylight in a park," Tom persisted. "And I've got you guys as witnesses. Since when is that deflowering a virgin?"

"All right, all right," Petey concluded. "We believe you, and we'll stand up for you with Gracie Carter, even if she brings her shotgun."

There was a slight pause before Mutt put his hand to his chin and mused: "It'd be a good thing if you did tap her. Her granny was fantastic at that age."

"Shut up, you old fart." Freddy said, slapping Mutt on the arm with a loud smack. A round of laughter from the quartet accompanied Tom as he crossed the park to a place where two benches could be positioned to face each other.

Renee looked down shyly as she approached him, her dirty bare feet leaving imprints on the grass. "Hi."

"Hello, Renee. You ready?"

"I guess so." Her big toe drew a serpent nervously in the dirt.

"It'll be all right. Here's a pencil and pad. I'll just sit here and you draw me." He beckoned her to sit on a bench as he took off his polo shirt and settled down across from her.

"Are you going to draw me, too?" she said, her head down and her eyes peeked up from under her eyebrows while a slight smile infiltrated her mouth.

"Sure. Let's position you a little."

"Do I have to take anything off? I'm not as stacked as Maria."

"Don't worry about it. Turn sideways on the bench and rest your back on the armrest. Put your legs on the bench"

"Like this?"

"Yeah. Now you can lift your left knee, the one away from me, up to rest your pad. Good. Just relax. Let your shirt hang off your right shoulder. Excellent. How do you want me?"

"Ah, you can just sit there. I mean, sit up straight."

"Do you want me to lean any particular direction?"

"No, I don't think so. How will I do your face?"

"Just tell me when you want to work on it, and I'll look at you. Maybe you should start with that, and tell me when you're done."

She took a long look at him, and put the artist's pencil to paper. After a few deft strokes, she indicated she was ready for him to move his head again. They spent fifteen minutes, drawing quickly, he finishing before she did. Going over when she finished, he looked at her work.

"That's excellent, Renee," he exclaimed. It was an excellent cameo of the man, complete with the cleft in his chin and the wrinkles of his chest. "You have some real talent, kid. Real talent. Ever thought of becoming an artist?"

She nodded her head eagerly. "I'd like to be an artist, but I don't think I'll have enough for college. My Grammie and I don't have a lot of money. She wants me to learn a trade."

"Tell you what, I'll get some papers from Kansas City the next time I'm there, and we'll make an application for a scholarship to the Art Institute. Would you like that?"

"Would I?" She went speechless, and threw her arms around him in a big, bear hug, tears streaming down her face.

"Great," he said while being strangled. "We'll set it up."

After a few moments, she let him go and wiped her face. Looking at his pad, she indicated that she wanted to see his drawing of her. He held it up.

It was an excellent likeness of her sitting on the bench, her legs up, the pad on her upraised thigh, and her pencil at her mouth as she looked directly back at the artist. Her eyes were intense and compelling, framed by a pug nose, thick lips that bit the end of the pencil, and hair lightly played by the breeze. "That's beautiful. You've drawn me nicer than I look."

"Nonsense, this is exactly how you look and you're lovely. Do you want it?"

Her mood evaporated. "No, no, no, Grammie wouldn't understand. I gotta go back to the pool before the girls think something's up." Giving the materials back to Tom, she scampered back across the grass to the pool.

Tom sighed and held the drawings in his hand. She would probably never get out of this dump the way things looked. Shaking his head, he put both pads back in his oversized bag, put his shirt back on, and started back across to the shelter house. Halfway there he was intercepted by Ashley Harms.

"Hiya," she said, her hair plastered back on her head and her light blue one piece wet, leaving nothing to the imagination.

"Hello," Tom replied.

"You wanna make a drawing of me?"

"Sometime."

"I'll take my top off."

"How old are you?" "Eighteen."

"Can I see your driver's license?"

She pouted and crossed her arms in front of her, lifting her breasts up and deepening her cleavage. "I don't have a pocket for it." Her eyes were dancing in invitation. "Ya wanna draw me? I'll do any pose you want."

Tom shook his head and smiled. "Sometime. Later. Maybe. If you're good."

A twinkle appeared in her eyes. "I can be very good, and when I'm bad, I'm better."

"See you, Mae West." He went on to rejoin his comrades as she waited for a beat before running back to the pool.

The guys were stretching, and Mutt was just raking in a pot when Tom came up. Petey gave him a big toothless grin as he sat down: "You're a strong man, Tom, maybe the strongest I've ever seen."

"Oh."

"Yup. My little girl over there is an expert at leading men around by the balls. She's got three different boyfriends at school, a college boy in Springfield, and neither her daddy or I kin ever say no to her."

Hoot dealt two cards to all present while Freddy pushed a stack of chips in front of Tom. "I hope for your sake Ashley's using protection, Petey," Mutt said.

"Oh, yes. She's on the Pill, and carries condoms in her purse."

"The modern American woman," the resident minister observed.

A few more hands of Hold 'Em, and Freddy put a considerable dent in Mutt's stack of chips. The rest held their own until the sun went down far enough to make the cards difficult for their old eyes to see. They threw everything in carrying cases and made their way to their cars as the pool closed. A few moments later, the most of the girls piled into two cars, wearing shorts over their swimsuit bottoms and roared off toward Seville Hills' only drive in.

Tom took out his digital camera, and took some shots of the sunset. The shadows over the Lake from the outlook drew his attention, and putting his camera down, he noticed Renee watching him beside her car.

When she saw she had his attention, she did some crazy poses next to her car, and Tom obliged her by snapping some pictures. He walked closer and closer, and she flirted with him extravagantly, batting her eyes and giving him 'come hither' looks over her shoulder with lowered her strap. She bent over, and turned to let him see her from many angles, laughing the whole time.

Tom hung the camera around his neck, and turned to go. "All right, all right, that's enough for now. Aren't you going for ice cream?"

"No. I'm a goof. The other girls wouldn't let me, and besides I don't have money." Tom reached for his wallet, but she waved at him. "No, no, I don't like Ice cream, and I've got to go home soon."

"Whatever you say. You really interested in Art school?"

"Yes, yes. I'd do anything to get out of here."

"Grand. I think."

As he walked toward in his car when a quavering voice sang out: "Do you really think I'm beautiful?" Renee bit her lip shyly as she waited for him.

"Of course I do," Tom replied, "You were the cutest girl at the pool. Your smile and your dimples, the way your eyes light up, are worthy a fortune."

"But Maria's got bigger boobs than me. Ashley's got a nicer butt."

"Your body is absolutely fine. I'm a guy, and I know. There's more to an attractive woman than her body. You're a nice kid, sweet, and I'm sure the right boy is going to fall for you any day now."

"Gosh, thanks Mr. Albright."

"Tom. Call me Tom."

"Thanks Tom." He turned and crossed the parking lot in the waxing moonlight to get in his Camry.

The doors were unlocked, and before he could get the key in the ignition, the passenger door slammed as a small figure darted in beside him. "Wha--"

A finger pressed his lips shut, and Renee whispered in the dark. "That's the nicest thing anybody ever said to me, and I want to thank you." Reaching across him, she reclined his seat and undid his trousers. Long, thin fingers began stroking the whiteness of his shorts, making the big bulge there grow. He laid back in disbelief as his manhood swelled, and the light played off the highlights in the teenager's hair. She fumbled his lower garments down, making his snake rise wetly from its lair as it was released.

"I want to show you I know how to make a man feel good," she whispered, tracing the wetness around the head of his cock and blowing softly and cooly on his flesh. The cock trembled, and her soft hand grasped it and began moving slowly along the shaft. It took seconds for it to grow rock hard, and she gave him a backward look, her eyes sultry, her upper teeth pulling her lower lip anxiously before she hungrily licked her lips. Turning, she engulfed his meat with her soft mouth, her tongue darting manically.

Tom lay there for several moments, still surprised by the sudden aggression by a shy girl. His right hand rubbed her back as she worked, tracing gentle circles, before moving around and under her bikini top. The fingers quested forward on the soft flesh, until they found the rock hard nipple. They began tracing the aureola, and she quivered. Around and around in faster and faster circles they traveled, the hand pushing the cup out and the fingers making the lightest of contact. She shuddered as she sucked him, her breathing growing harder.

With a pop, she released him and started kissing her way down the shaft. Finding the soft skin of his balls, she murmured: "I'm a bad girl, a bad, bad girl. I need to be punished, that's what Grammy says."

His hand settled on her polka dot covered bottom, stroking and squeezing her ass. He noticed that her tongue work became more electric, so he continued. Renee leaped up and began sucking frantically, her tongue all over his corona.

The hand worked its way under the swim suit to caress the soft skin. Her legs parted slightly, and he cupped each cheek, loving each curve. The middle finger traced her asscrack, moving around and down until it found the little swamp between her legs. He was taller than she was, his arms were long, and he was able to bury his finger easily in her tight little cunt.

A squeal of delight fought to escape her busy mouth, and he started finger fucking her harder and harder as she sucked him. The wetness on his hand increased exponentially, and he was able to slip his third finger into her while his index finger played with her clitoris. Hard moaning was the response, and her breathing grew faster and faster as the seed began building in his balls.

They came together: she sending a flood of juice down on his hand as he jettisoned massive ropes of creams down her willing throat. For several long moments they ejaculated until she released him, her head lolling on his thighs as his hand pulled out to rub her lower back damply.

"My God, this is awesome," she said. "I've never cum this hard before."

Tom took several moments to recover. "Me, neither. Thanks, Renee."

"I didn't know old guys could be this good."

"Experience, baby, experience." She rolled over, her head on his legs, her legs askew and her thighs apart with one knee pointing straight up in the air while the other lolled at a ninety degree angle. He gently pushed aside her left cup, revealing her creamy untanned breast, which he began to trace with lazy circles, moving around and teasing the nipple occasionally.

She purred and put her hand on his chest. "So awesome, so awesome," she whispered, her left hand stroking her thigh just below her crotch.

Suddenly looking at her watch, she bolted upright and pulled her top back over her tit. "I gotta go. Almost curfew, and I don't want to get Grammie pissed."

"Okay, don't want to get you in trouble. Thanks, sugar."

She leaned back over and gave him a long tongue kiss, breaking it reluctantly. "Thank you. You make me feel so good. 'Night." With a door opening and closing, she was gone, darting over to her little junker that rattled to life and pulled out of the parking lot into the darkness.

He sat there, his saliva still damp on his dick and her cunt juice still lingering on his fingers. Licking his middle finger, it tasted like honey. "Night, Renee," he murmured.

***********

Five years later. . .

Tom was standing on his deck, looking at the stars. He had just tucked his daughter into bed after telling a story that involved a princess who killed her own dragons. She listened intently before dismissing it, then accepted a good night hug and kiss before laying her curly head on the pillow.

On the wall of her bedroom was a painting of Renee, wearing a polka dot bikini. He looked back and forth from the painting to his daughter, looking for resemblances. Amanda's little face was the image of her mother's as she closed her eyes and drifted quickly off to sleep. At last, he drifted out the door, down the corridor and the stairs and out onto his deck.

He saw the lights of the Smithton house; Michelle was up late. The house was too far away for him to spy on her, but her sexy panache and childlike innocence stirred him like no other in the past five years. A night breeze played with the trees and made the stars above swim on the air currents; the moon was just starting to peek over the horizon.

Her image swam into his head and filled it. Her brown eyes, her smoky skin, her broad smile, her dewy breasts captured him again, and unthinking he raised his hand to his mouth and tasted honey.

To be continued...