"Surfer girl" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gillie Bill)

CHAPTER TWO

The flight from Chicago to San Diego was on time, but it was one the passengers were not likely to forget. The weather was stormy and unpredictable and twice passengers were asked to fasten their seat belts. Janet and her mother shared two seats with a nice view. While other passengers were having anxiety attacks because the plane was thrown around in the wind like a child's toy, Janet looked out at the billowy clouds and the spotty patches of ground far below, and her heart throbbed with excitement. She watched the flat Midwestern plains give way to the sharp pointed mountains and dry stretches of desert of the far West. The storms cleared as they traveled closer to California, and when the pilot announced their arrival, Janet strained against the seatbelt to get her first view of her new home, San Diego.

As the plane dipped, starting its approach pattern, Janet saw this sprawling city gleaming in the late-afternoon sun. There were purple mountains and long flat mesas, some green, others jammed with housing tracts. Freeways crisscrossed the city in long ribbons. What impressed her most was the great blue expanse of Pacific Ocean. She had never seen an ocean and the awesome size, the way it seemed to go on forever, was fascinating. The plane dropped suddenly. The Lindbergh Field runway and the wheels screeched underneath.

Janet understood the magic power California held on people seeing the Pacific Ocean, she realized why people flocked to the water. Why some gave up good-paying jobs to face an uncertain future on the West Coast. Just to be near the thundering surf. It was enchanting. She recalled all those Beach Boys' songs about surfing and hot cars and wild times on the beach, and her breasts began to ache, the nipples rising up as hard as they had in the motel room when Morgan's hard dick had thrust into her cunt.

Janet's eyes filled with tears of joy. She had never felt so happy. She couldn't wait to explore the hidden mysteries of her new home state.

Unstrapping her seat belt, Janet looked over at her mother.

"I'm glad that's over," Ethel said. Her breath reeked of gin. "I damn near threw up." She rose clumsily to her feet. She held Janet's shoulder for support with a surprisingly strong hand. "Maybe they'll learn to fly these Goddamn things," she said.

Janet looked through the window one last time. The airport terminal was coming into view and through the tinted glass her father, waiting to whisk them away to their new home.

"I can't wait," Janet said, squeezing her thighs to stop the flow of juice into her panties. "California here I come!"

Point Loma was an old community, a fashionable area of old homes, winding, palm-tree-laden streets and gentle breezes from the ocean. It was called home by the wealthy. Unlike other old neighborhoods, Point Loma remained exclusive, still a good spot to live and raise a family.

Adjoining Point Loma was another old section called Ocean Beach. The dividing line between these two communities was not clear-cut, though most people considered Point Loma as on top of the hill, while Ocean Beach was everything that spilled down towards the ocean. It had the best surfing found anywhere in California. Ocean Beach was a summer vacation spot and had been for nearly fifty years. It had shops and tacky restaurants, a fishing pier and a dozen or so bars. Recently, surfers had staked out Ocean Beach as their town and through these nomads with the brightly colored "woodies", casual dress and carefree lifestyle had proved to be attractive scenery for the summer tourists, they posed something of a nuisance for Ocean Beach residents. There was talk about a longhair Mafia organizing in the beach which controlled drug traffic, white slavery, prostitution and other evils. It was only a rumor, of course, but rumors had a way of being founded in fact and more than a few citizens were worried about the future of Ocean Beach.

Biff Andrews walked proudly across the freshly clipped front lawn, turned in a slow circle, a wave of his arm giving him a air of showmanship and said: "This is your new home. How do you like it?"

"Oh, Daddy, it's beautiful," cried his daughter, Janet. There were real tears in her eyes as she ran up the sidewalk into the one-story split-level house. There was a sun porch which looked out on Ocean Beach and the blue vastness of the Pacific Ocean. She felt dizzy and elated and full of joy like a child on Christmas Day. Her panties were moist from excitement, and her mound ached to be touched. She ran from one room to the next, her footsteps echoing against the hardwood floors. Like other houses built when materials were abundant, the walls were thick, the ceilings high and the windows plentiful. An overhead fan in the living room swished the muggy air.

"Oh it's a dream house, Daddy," she said. Then unexpectedly, she jumped into his arms and kissed her daddy, hugging him close so her taut nipples dug into his chest.

Buff gripped his daughter. Her rump rested on his forearms and he could feel her cunt heat through his Hawaiian shirt. His cock stiffened in his loose trousers, the smell of Janet's twat bonding them together in its sweet, musky odor. He started to shake and quickly released her.

"Daddy, can I go down to the beach?" asked Janet.

"Good idea, darling," Biff answered, wiping beads of sweat from his brow. "Your mother and I want to talk." He gave her a playful pat on the ass and watched his daughter as she skipped from the room, carrying her travel bag.

Biff turned to his wife who looked out the window. "Well?" he said.

"I thought you wanted a new house," she said, not turning around. "This place must be forty years old."

He felt a twinge of disappointment. The house was meant as a surprise. He half expected Ethel to be as excited with it as he was. It was a dream house with a beautiful view of the ocean. Point Loma was not the dreary suburbs; it was a hodgepodge of lifestyles, of people from different backgrounds, with different tastes. It was a chance to break away from the dull, everyday routine of the suburbs. Their marriage had been going badly and this house, this strange, exciting neighborhood was a chance to rekindle their life together.

"How's this, Daddy?" Janet said. She appeared from the bedroom in a new bikini.

It is too small, he thought, feeling his penis grow like a young sapling in his pants. Her breasts stood out so you could see the nipples popping through. She pirouetted and he groaned again. The bottom clutched her ass cheeks lasciviously. He couldn't believe how much his daughter had developed. All the kids wore them tight these days, he told himself. But his daughter?

If I saw a girl in a tight-fitting suit like that on the beach, I'd want to fuck her right on the spot!

"It's beautiful," said Ethel, lighting a cigarette. "Now grab a towel and don't stay out too long. I don't want you getting sunburned and then complaining all night."

"Enjoy yourself, Janet," Biff said. The hurt showed in his daughter's eyes. He wanted to hug her once more, except his cock was bulging out and he didn't want her to think that… no, he didn't want her to think that!

"Bye, Daddy," she said, hurrying out the door, her sandals flip-flopping against the cement walkway.

He watched her through the open door, the cheeks of her ass moving like ball bearings. She had filled out so fast! It seemed just a few months ago that her slim, awkward body seemed to disappear inside a swimsuit.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Ethel said.

He snapped his head around and saw the sneering smile on her face. He felt indignant, insulted by her remark. It's my daughter, for God's sakes, he thought. What the hell is wrong with you, Ethel. You've got to be sick to think there's anything between us. Suddenly he moved up close and staring into her eyes, pressed his dick against the front panel of her slacks. He put a hand to the top button and in one quick movement, her pants were spread open and his fingers were rubbing her cunt.

"I was thinking how much fun we could have right here," he said. The glint in his eyes was unmistakable. The hand rubbing her mound was unstoppable.

"Are you crazy?" she snapped, twisting against his grasp. "The window. The neighbors. Have you lost your mind?"

He buried his lips against her neck and ran his fingers through her moist sporran of pubic hair until he found her wet slit. He slipped two fingers into her cooze. His shoulder pinned her to the wall while he pulled her pants free from her struggling legs.

"Bastard," Ethel snapped. "Goddamn, bastard let me go."

She beat on his shoulders and clawed his face with long, thin nails. It didn't stop him. She heard his fly unzip and then the moist head of his cock touched the parted lips of her cunt and she groaned. Ethel spread her legs and wrapped them around his waist. His cock head worked into her wetness as he pumped from below her crotch, her hips held up by his two strong hands. She hated him like this, holding her body like a soft, furry thing while she was helpless, unable to stop him. Her clitoris stood out firm, pressing against his stomach. She moved her wet mound around and around, stimulating herself. She was aroused, stimulated and she gripped his powerful shoulders wanting him to take her cunt with savage insistence.

"Go in me," she croaked. Urgently, she licked at his ear, as she would later suck on his dick. Her husband groaned and pushed forward with his hips.

"Ahhhhhh!" Ethel gasped. His cock slid into her surprised slit, seared for an instant, then penetrated fully. She felt the warm, hot thrust of his cock along the wet channel wall, through her womb and up her spine. He withdrew, then charged forward and her belly exploded with sparks. She grabbed desperately, his sweaty chest rubbing against her tits. She jerked roughly on the dick sucking on her cunt like a plunger, kneading and working her cunt like a finely tuned instrument, and she gasped out loud.

"Hurry!" she cried as her fingers worked through her ravine. He rammed home with a short, quick plunge. Her twat lips peeled back and her hips came up and her cunt squished under the surging shaft.

Biff felt her folds around his cock, hunching and heaving, her butt going tight in his hands, her back arched high and then he groaned as sperm boiled up into his cock.

Through the window he caught a glimpse of his daughter's ass rolling with an innocent grace under the skin-tight bikini bottom. He hugged his wife's frantic cunt while watching Janet. His dick twitched, then shuddered, his balls smoldering hot. He jerked free of the tight, wet pussy flesh then rammed into her slit with surprising, jolting force. His wife sprang up against his pumping hips and her cunt sucked on his swollen dick like a hungry mouth.

Then he came.

His balls erupted and he was pumping her cunt hole and squeezing her buttocks, feeling her collapse like Jell-o around his hardness as sperm gushed into her slot, thick as cream.

"Goooooood!" groaned Ethel, wagging her soaked pussy, milking the spurting cock end. He flooded her pleasure void with jet after jet of come. His balls pumped up and down and she was filled to the brim full and still he came.

"Oh, Biff, you're so good," she gasped, overjoyed.

And Biff watched his daughter disappear from sight, her mature body undulating with surprising sensuality. She was walking down to the beach, down to mix with the surfers and the beach bums and the other young, tantalizing girls like her – the runaways and adolescent hedonists who sought out sexual thrills in their tiny bikinis and he felt a great emptiness surround him. Even as his sperm drained like a hose into Ethel's sucking cunt-mouth, he realized nothing was the same anymore.

Janet, my own daughter, he whispered as his wife slumped to the floor, sperm dripping on her face. So beautiful. My daughter is so beautiful.

Janet felt a deep stirring as she walked down the steep hill, her sandals flip-flopping against the cracked cement. It started between her thighs and worked slowly through her crotch up along the soft, hairless skin of her belly and through the firm, round breasts and out the pulsating nipples.

Ocean Beach lay before her – alien, unknown, inviting. It unfolded before her: the one-story stucco buildings, the azure-blue ocean, the long fishing pier. She was above it, looking down, her eager body absorbing the sun's loving heat. She was slowly descending into this new life, like a skin-diver sinking slowly into the beguiling world of the sea. She had never seen an ocean, never met a surfer, never been to California and now she had all of it, right at her fingertips, and the shock was almost too great to absorb at once.

A kid on a skateboard came rocketing down the hill, missing her by inches. He was about her age, a good-looking kid with shoulder-length blond hair, and nude except for a baggy swim suit. She watched him weaving with deceptive grace, legs bent, arms out balancing his weight, eyes intent, staring ahead intently.

The hill was far too long and steep for a skateboard and yet here was this kid challenging the odds, his face drawn tight with confidence. The kid summed up the California experience, the reckless, wild spirit that pushed people to the limits of new experience… and beyond.

It took five minutes to reach the beach. The beach was brilliantly white and cluttered with bathers stretched out on towels, their brown bodies gleaming with oil. Beyond lay the ocean. Janet noticed the surfers speckling the water just beyond rolling surf line, dressed in cut-away wet suits, sitting on their boards waiting for the next good wave.

Along the street were the surf shops, beer bars and fast-food shops that catered to the surfing crowd. The sidewalk was clogged with surfers, their long blond hair and dark tans setting them apart from the tourists. Janet felt conspicuously like an outsider, crossing the street and walking by the shops, peering in at the knots of surfers filling the tiny storefronts.

A man came flying from a bar and sent Janet sprawling.

"Fucking asshole!!" he shouted, shaking his fist.

Janet thought he was cursing her. But then a burly man in an apron appeared at the barroom door.

"I told you before, Duke, to stay out!" said the man.

"Up yours." The man turned to a startled Janet. "Hey, baby, sorry to send you down."

She was too startled to reply. The guy was dressed surfer-style. His blond hair was pulled back in a pony tail that gave his long, angular face and piercing blue eyes an angelic quality. He took Janet's hand and pulled her to her feet.

"Say," he said, his eyes looking her up and down, "you must be new to town."

A small crowd had clustered around them and Janet felt nervous under their stare. She pressed her thighs together, still shaken from being knocked down.

"How did you know?"

"You're white as the underbelly of a shark," he said, pressing close, his barrel chest almost touching her bikini top. "And that swimsuit. Man, I haven't seen polka dots in a long time."

Janet gave out a mirthless laugh. She wanted to disappear into a hole she was so embarrassed.

But Duke, as the bartender called him, was not letting go. He couldn't take his eyes off her pert breasts and her swell buttocks. She was maybe seventeen, a little old next to the other girls, but that was all right. This chick was still fantastic!

"Let me buy you a beer," he offered.

Janet was going to tell him she was underage, but Duke just shook his head. "Yeah, man, no ID, I can dig it. But there's a place up the street that doesn't card you."

Janet looked at Duke and saw excitement and mystery. He sent chills up her legs and through her crotch.

Go ahead, she told herself, remembering all those empty, lonely days growing up in Dairy. This is what you want.

"Sure, let's have a beer," she said pausing. "I'm Janet."

"Duke," replied the blond surfer. "As in John Wayne." He smiled broadly, his even, white teeth sparkling. "Man, he's my hero."