Gifted Grifter Ch. 05

I made a couple of passes by the beach before anchoring it in the shallows by the swimming area, hoping my arrival hadn't gone unnoticed. I then sauntered across the private area and onto state park lands. I saw a number of worthwhile potential partners already there, so I went about starting to talk to them. My early returns were not encouraging, however. There were two blondes in matching black bikinis; I went to talk to them, but even if they had ideas of ditching their boyfriends they wouldn't or couldn't in front of each other. I talked to another in a yellow and black "Corona" bikini, long brown hair and outstanding abs, but she clearly was not open to the idea of being with someone my age. I similarly talked to a girl with dishwater hair and a nice C-cups (or better?) considering her slimness, wearing a purple reflective bikini top with black bottoms, but she wasn't particularly receptive to someone my age and when her boyfriend returned to the scene she quickly decided to stick with him. I disappeared before I ended up in the hospital.

After lying low for a while, I came back to the beach with a Captain's chair I had pulled from the boat and sat on the grass, watching the comings and goings, looking for someone else that might be more receptive to my advances.

I watched the blonde walk in from the parking lot. She was tall and skinny, wearing green combat pants and a tight red sleeveless t-shirt. Her boyfriend was wearing swim trunks and nothing else, which was too bad because it would have been nice to cover up his substantial gut. They walked together, but not holding hands as many couples did, even though neither carried enough to prevent them from doing so. I figured she was a prime candidate for a girl looking to upgrade. But was she worth MY time?

I watched a little longer. They went to the far edge of the beach, nearest the private beach boundary, and set out towels on the grassy patch above the sandy part of the beach. Then she reached for her waistband and untied it. She slipped off her flip-flops, then slipped her pants off. The graceful and unconsciously sexy manner in which she did that had me sold that she would be a good lay. She then pulled off her red T-shirt. She was wearing a bikini that was mostly white, vaguely shiny, and had some sort of patch of design in blue on the left breast and right buttock. Her tummy was flat and firm; her breasts were not particularly large, but she was also not flat; they were at least a B-cup and in the context of her skinny frame they stood out appropriately. Her legs, however, were especially long and lean, and their exposed length called attention to her. Yup, plenty good enough.

I strolled in their direction, deciding how I would break the ice. Its hard for a single guy to strike up a conversation with a couple, as you might imagine.

"Man, is it hot today," I said loudly; they both looked at me, so I had succeed in getting their attention. "Too hot to be sitting on the beach—gotta get out there in my boat!"

"Sounds nice," the girl said, "but we don't have one." The guy looked at me with a look that kills.

"Well, I've got plenty of extra room in mine—why don't you two come along for a ride?" I asked.

The girl started getting up immediately and gathering her things, saying "that would be great." My sunglasses told me she was thinking 'he must have money if he has a boat—this could be a step up in the world.' The guy mumbled something, but didn't have much of a choice now.

I led the two of them across the state park beach and onto the private area. "Don't worry," I said, "my cottage is part of the private beach club so we're good here." My sunglasses told me the girl was suitably impressed. I paused then asked, "so what are your names anyway?" Her name was Shannon. I don't remember what his name was, since I wasn't paying attention to his answer.

We waded out to the boat. Her fat-ass boyfriend had trouble climbing aboard in the waist-deep water; Shannon put her hands on the deck and lifted herself straight out of the water in a modified push-up.

I asked them to pull up anchor. Her boyfriend started looking around, not knowing what to do. Shannon leaned out and grabbed the anchor line, then straightened up and pulled it up. Her ass was tight, and the muscles of her back and thighs twitched effortlessly in the process; she was no stranger to the gym.

I backed the boat out and started cruising around the lake. Since there were only three of us, I let the boat steer itself for a second while I converted the back seats to a flat deck, designed for sunbathing.

"Hey Shannon, for the best breeze, lay out on here," I said, slapping the deck. She sat on it, knees bent, supporting her torso with her hands, looking a little like an upside-down "W." "Heh, nice...you look like you belong in a boat ad." I told her. She smiled broadly at that.

I figured that Shannon would get into showing off, so I cruised by the beach a number of times and around the lake in sight of the shore. The guy was getting bored, but Shannon was loving this—exactly as I expected.

"I bet you're a skier," I said to Shannon when I had a chance to peek back at her sunning herself on the deck.

"I've only done it a few times, but I love it," she said.

"I've got skis and a rope right under here," I said, tapping my foot on door of the hull storage unit.

"Uh, I've got to get back," the guy hemmed and hawed.

Shannon looked at him and said, "Come on, have a little fun." Her mind was thinking 'you don't ever want to do anything—except maybe have sex.' He wasn't too up on it—he could tell that the more time Shannon spent with me, the less interest she would have in sticking with him. It was a little soon to force Shannon to choose, but the conversation was heading that way and her last thought told me I had a chance to come out on top.

"Not to worry," I said, "if you want I can drop you off on shore (looking at the boyfriend), and I'll take you out on the lake (looking at Shannon). I can drop you back off here or wherever you want when you're done."

"Okay, that's a great idea." Shannon said. The boyfriend liked this even less, but by now my glasses told me he was getting pissed at her anyway. Shannon was thinking 'good, I don't want you around anyway.'

I pulled up offshore near the beach and dropped off the boyfriend. Then I raced to the far side of the lake—where she would be all but impossible to see from the shore—before giving her a life jacket and putting her in the water.

"Your boyfriend there—doesn't seem like much fun," I commented.

"No, he's not very adventurous," she admitted.

"You are," I said, referring to the fact she was skiing with a stranger. She liked that label, so I added "I am, too."

She was nowhere near the skier that Lauren, the traveling salesgirl had been, but she could get up and stay up and was having a good time. While she was out on the water, her phone rang. Then five minutes rang again. After the second time, I called out to her "your phone is ringing." She waved her hand in the universal signal for "don't worry about it." I guessed it was her boyfriend, and I could see in my glasses she did too—and didn't care. This was the life she wished she lived, and she didn't get the chance to do this everyday.

She was out for a long time by water skiing standards. I handed her a towel to dry off and started reeling in the rope. She went to listen to her messages; I positioned myself so I could see read her thoughts while I coiled.

Shannon had gotten four calls from her boyfriend. The first asked her to come back. The second said she better come back or else. The third said he wasn't joking. The fourth said "Fuck you, I'm going home—you can find your own way back, bitch." This must not have been the first time she pulled something like this, because I would think a guy like him didn't land a piece like Shannon very often—he must have been pretty fed up to bail. Heck, even sloppy seconds would be well worth the wait from her.

"Goddamn it," she stamped her foot, "that loser left me stranded here."

"Jeez, we weren't gone that long," I said, "where are you from anyway?"

She was living about an hour away, in a town that was a popular vacation destination. She worked there as a lifeguard at a water park.

"Well, I'm sorry you're stranded, I feel responsible—I'll be happy to take you home when I go home tomorrow, it's not too far out of the way." I said. Plus, you'll have to spend the night somewhere, I thought.

"Well thanks, but what I need someplace to go tonight..." she said.

"No you don't—you'll stay in my cottage. There's plenty of room." I said. I could see in her mind that she knew that more than likely accepting my invitation meant having to sleep with me—but that fact didn't elicit much of reaction either way. I guess she really was a slut.

"Well, I appreciate that—seems I don't have many options left," she pouted, still mad at the boyfriend. I suddenly wondered how old she was—it shouldn't have been that hard to figure out why he left her here. Then again, pretty girls like Shannon can get away with a lot of stuff; all they need to do is show a little skin, bat those pretty eyes and maybe give a blow job or two and most guys will forgive a lot. "From the message, I expect my stuff is strewn across the beach somewhere; can we go retrieve it?"

"Sure, I said, then maybe we can go catch some dinner at the bar," I said, then my glasses saw her mind react to that: turns out she was only 19. Yummy. "...or, we can make something at the cottage too."

"I'd just as soon just grill out or something—I don't go to bars much," she replied. She wasn't lying; my glasses told me she had a fake ID (no surprise there) but didn't use it much. Good, it might not be too hard to get her drunk then. She also didn't wasn't to let on how young she was. That was fine by me, because then she wouldn't find out how old I was.

I went back to the beach and she found her backpack and a few loose items piled up on the blanket they had been lying on when I first interrupted them. She gathered it all up and waded back out to the boat. I drove it back to the cottage and tied it up on the dock, then I led her up to the cottage.

"Just dump your stuff there in the corner," I said, not wanting to assign her a separate bedroom and not yet ready to suggest she put them in mine. I went into the kitchen area and poured two strong Canadian Club and sevens; she accepted hers and started drinking with the gusto of someone who doesn't get to drink much. I also brought her a bottle of water, a lesson I learned with Lauren, but she barely touched it.

I went outside and tossed some burgers on the grill. She came outside and sat in a chair, since I was the only person to talk to; she had put her pants back on but remained in her bikini top. She was lean and had nice abs. I poured her a second drink. She asked some stuff about me; I repeated a lot of the story I had been telling Erin, and while she wasn't quite the sucker Erin was for a cloak-and-dagger story, she was eager to hear about anyone whose life she perceived to be more "interesting" than hers.

After dinner I cleaned up, then took the few food scraps down to the lake to feed the fish. When I came back Shannon was standing by the railing of the deck, looking out towards the lengthening shadows of an approaching sunset.

"Ooh, that's going to be pretty," I said, "let me get you a fresh drink and I'll join you."

"Thanks," she said, looking distantly. I came back with her drink; I put mine down on the railing, then stood behind her and wrapped my arms around her midsection while we watched the sun go down. She put one of her arms on mine, perhaps to keep tabs on them, while holding and steadily sipping from her drink with the other. My glasses told me her thoughts were becoming muddled as her buzz intensified. She wasn't particularly inhibited to begin with, so once the alcohol reduced them even further she started to get horny; she was actually starting to fantasize about fucking ME. OK, guess I didn't need my glasses anymore.

I kept one arm on her belly while with the other I took off my glasses and put them into their hard protective case—not easy with one hand. The arm that was on her belly wasn't just idle now, I was slowly and deliberately feeling the smooth, textured surfaces of her 19-year old skin.

When I finished putting my glasses away, I didn't put that arm with the other. Instead, I gently untied the back of her bikini. She felt me do it and didn't stop me. Once untied, I slid my hand forward and held her right breast in my right hand. At the same time, I started to nibble on her left ear. The way she leaned back into me told me that she liked this so far.

I was pretty sure that even if there were people in the neighboring cottages they couldn't see, but I still felt a little too out in the open to be openly fondling Shannon this way. "Let's go inside," I whispered, and wordlessly she followed me.

I closed the door and drew the shades. Shannon waited until I was watching her before she pulled her top off completely. With the top in her hands high above her head, she moved in slow motion to discard it, giving me time to get close to her. When I did, she put her arms around my neck and kissed me. I put one arm around her, while I played with her nipple with the other. It was soon fully erect.

Shannon then started to feel for my penis in my shorts—it wasn't difficult to find by now. She gently moved things around so that my penis was free enough for her to hold in her hand. Successful, she began stroking it.

Suddenly Shannon started getting shorter—or so it seemed. Actually, she was doing a slow knee bend, like a stripper might. She kept going until my penis was at the same level as her mouth. She then pulled my pants down entirely and, after a few introductory licks, swallowed me whole.

Its funny, I got the distinct impression that Shannon was trying extra hard to impress me. I didn't have my glasses on, but it dawned on me that this might be another age thing; Shannon knew I was older, and expected that I would have had lots of experience. She didn't want to let on how young she was—especially after I had served her a considerable amount of alcohol—so she was trying extra hard to appear older and more experienced herself.

Shannon had seen some porn somewhere, perhaps from a boyfriend or on the Internet, because she was trying her best to deep throat me. I wasn't complaining. But she didn't do very much with her tongue while my dick was in her mouth; I guess she couldn't see that on the screen, so it hadn't occurred to her to do it. For her, sex was still mostly about reproducing physical actions she had seen; learning how to learn from your partner's reactions was still a lesson in progress. But don't get me wrong; she was a pretty young thing sucking my cock, I was hard enough to hammer down the loose nails in the staircase with my dick. And yes, ladies, its sad but its true: her 19-year old body, and to some degree just knowing that she was only 19, makes a man extra, extra hard.

She had moved from her deep-knee bend to a conventional kneeling position, but I couldn't help but think that with all the chairs around, she didn't have to be kneeling to blow me. But kneeling while sucking does have kind of a submissive undertone to it, which makes it that much sexier. Since she had gone down on her knees of her own accord, I wasn't going to stop her.

But if she didn't stop sucking me soon, I was gonna pop off in her mouth. I thought about whether I should, in fact, but decided I wanted to fuck her too—and the amount of time it would take me to be ready to go a second time would be a signal of just how old I was, so I decided I would have to hold my load for now.

With some reluctance I pulled my dick out from between her lovely red lips. With a slight nudge, she got the message to go to the sofa. I went to kneel before her; she took her pants and panties off before I got there. She didn't just drop them, though: she pulled them off her butt, sat down, straightened her legs up in the air, and slipped them all the way up and off without bending her knees. I could barely touch my toes; she could take her knickers off without bending her knees. And I was gonna fuck her!

I knelt now and began to lick her muff. She had a bikini wax; her pubic hair was dark gold, so her hair color must be natural. I also noticed that she had a small tattoo of a red devil near the fold where the legs join the torso, just up and to the left of her mound. It was meant to be only visible when she was sharing her pussy.

Now again the porn thing—I wonder if she did these things just because she was trying to impress me or if she always did them. Anyway, she spread her legs in a wide-open V, but kept them straight. Nevertheless, she was able to grab her ankles and hold on while I slurped at her crotch. Perhaps she had been trained as a dancer or gymnast; or maybe she was just fucking 19.

I wanted to eat her until she came, but the fact was she was looking so good I was gonna blow my nuts any minute, and I didn't want to get cheated out of feeling her from the inside. She was plenty wet, so I straightened up and rammed my erection into her pussy. She watched me with a sexy, mischievous look on her face while I penetrated her. Her blond hair, mussed from the water, framed her pretty face. Her bare breasts, nipples fully erect, enticed me and responded to my thrusting with gentle rippling back and forth. Her lower torso muscles were even more defined by her stretch, but especially her long, lean legs, splayed out unbent to either side and being held there by her own hands; THAT was hot. As a result, I was thrusting at full power from the moment I entered her. I held off for as long as I could until I had to let go. Waves of pleasure emanated from my groin as I gleefully ejaculated repeatedly inside her.

After I came we lay intertwined on the couch for some time, talking some, playing some, teasing some. Eventually we headed to bed. She was young, of course, so she was wide awake. Maybe my dick understood that it didn't get 19-year old pussy very often, because it was ready to go again surprisingly quickly. I nailed Shannon again, in the bedroom, before drifting off to sleep.

I was hoping for some morning trim too, but without the alcohol in her—and perhaps seeing me in the harsh morning light—it didn't happen. I fed her breakfast, closed up the cottage, then drove her back to her place before heading home myself. I gave her the cell phone number I was using at the time and she gave me hers (she claimed; I never tested it). She never called, which was probably for the better. I'm sure she was splitting that beaver for some young stud before the week was out.

Because when you're hot and only 19, you can...