Summer Girl (12 page)

The car came to a stop. Where they were, she
didn't know— or care. She could hear the front door open and shut,
followed by the rear door opening. Brad crawled into the back seat
greeted by the spectacular sight of Brie’s ass bent forward, her
head buried in Dan's lap. Her leotard-wrapped ass was gently
bobbing and swaying back and forth. He reached around to her front
and grabbed both sides of her torn leotard, pulling it further
apart. It split easily now, down across her abdomen, across her
pubis and finally separating along her pussy. Brad sat back behind
her splayed bottom and extended the tear from the front and onto
the back, revealing the back-side of her vulva, splitting it
further upwards revealing her anus. The split went higher and
higher until it reached the small of her back where the material
ended. The plum leotard was now split entirely in half and fell to
each side. Her underside was completely wide-open, her vulva and
anus beguiling him with their folds and circles, surrounded by the
half-moons of her ass cheeks. Brad reached down licked along the
entire length of her channel. Brie squealed with pleasure, muffled
by Dan's cock in her mouth. Brad licked her anus and she felt a
burst of electric current, biting down on Dan.

“Ouch!”

Brie lifted her head off of Dan's shaft,
breathless, “Sorry, sorry... Dan—Brad, what are you doing—” She
yelped again. “Oh God...” Brie was feeling nerve endings she never
knew she had.

“Don't... don't do that...” said Dan, either
to Brad or Brie, impossible to know for sure.

Brad lowered his tongue downward to her
mound, sliding his tongue over and around her lips. “OOOoooo,” Brie
exhaled.

Dan, starting to feel a little left out,
grabbed and started to stroke his cock. “I need you to finish,
okay?”

“Sorry, Dan,” said Brie regaining her
composure from Brad's ministrations, impaling her mouth on Dan's
cock once again. Brad's tongue was on her pussy and his finger on
her anus, gently, but insistently, pushed inward. Brad reached down
on the floorboards and grabbed the baton. He looked at the rubber
end and determined that it wasn't much bigger than him. He licked
the end, covering it in saliva and pushed it against her opening.
The lips parted and the baton went in. First an inch, then another,
and another... Brie felt her loins opening, filling with the
surrogate cock. She squealed as a torrent of pleasure broadcast
throughout her body, Brad pushing the baton further and further
inside her. What had earlier twirled so provocatively was now
sliding in and out of her. Brad was gentle, making sure not to hurt
her, moving the baton slowly, this talisman of perky energy giving
Brie pleasure.

Dan's moans were growing louder as Brie tried
to concentrate on his pleasure while wrestling with her own
impending orgasm. Brad had his finger in her ass now, showing no
interest in coming himself, seemingly content to skip his own
satisfaction for hers. His finger was up to his knuckle and Brie
liked the fullness she felt in her ass even though it was her pussy
that was shouting out the loudest. The baton was moving in and out
of her with increasing speed.

Dan yelled out as Brie felt a thick,
rapid-fire stream of cum down the back of her throat, gagging her.
She yanked her head off of his cock as a blast of jism hit her in
the face, as her own loins ignited and detonated. She moved her
face away of Dan's geysering pole, clutching it for dear life as it
spurted up and onto his belly, covering her hand while Brad's baton
jackhammer was causing her to wail as the burn of orgasm burrowed
through her belly.

Drained, Dan fell backwards just as Brie
collapsed on his stomach.

Suddenly, there was the sound of knuckles
wrapping against the glass. Startled, Brie sat up and looked out
the window. Finally she could see that the car was parked in the
Merle's driveway. Standing outside the car was Tamera in a white
bikini top and sarong. Brad reached forward and rolled down the
window. “Hi Hun.”

“What are you guys doing?” said Tamera. “Dan
Jennings will be here any minute to help Brie with her SAT's.”

“I'm already here, Tamera,” said Dan, closing
his shirt.

“Oh. Well, good to see you, Dan.”

“Hi Tamera,” said Brie, surprised at how
happy she was to see her again. Tamera leaned into the window,
smiling wide.

“Hi sweetheart—we'll catch up later,” Tamera
said, giving Brie a quick peck on the lips. She slid her head out
of the car and walked back into the house.

Brad wrapped his arms around Brie's waist and
kissed her on her neck. “You didn't get to come,” Brie said to
Brad.

“I don't have to have come all the time, but
you do,” said Brad.

Dan pulled off his shirt and wrapped it
around Brie. “You can't walk into the house naked.”

“I still have my boots and hat on,” said
Brie. She looked at the two powerful men either side of her. How
did she get so lucky? It didn't matter—she deserved it.

Lena Harris walked up to the front door and
rang the bell. The door opened and she was face to face with the
gorgeous (and single!) Shane Evans.

“Well, was my Ryan good today?” Lena said,
trying not to get lost in his brown eyes, dark hair and wrestler's
physique.

“I took Ryan and Bobbie for ice skating and
got ice cream,” said Bobby’s dad.

“Oh! What do I owe you for the skate rental
and ice cream?” Lena said, fumbling for her purse.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Shane. Her son,
Ryan and his boy, Bobby appeared behind him.

“Ready to go home, Honey?” Lena said to her
son, kneeling down to eye level.

“No!” Ryan yelled as an embarrassed Lena
grabbed Ryan, pulling him down the sidewalk and waving good-bye to
Shane and Bobby.

Shane never asked Lena to stay for coffee (or
a drink) and never had time to chat in the doorway. Whether Shane
was picking Bobby up at Lena's house—or Lena was picking Ryan up at
Shane's— pleasantries would be exchanged and then— zoom, off he
would go.

“Oh— Lena, one second...” said Shane
disappearing from the doorway.

Lena became excited. He must have tickets for
something (
and if he did, he wouldn't ask you
). Seconds
later Shane ran out to the sideway, handing a card to Lena. “Here—I
wanted to give this to you.”

“What is it?” said Lena, opening the
envelope.

“Bobby's birthday party invitation. We hope
you can come.”

“Oh. Of course. Sure,” said Lena trying not
to show her disappointment.

“You might want to stop hiding behind that
mop of hair and those poor-fitting clothes, “said Danielle, sitting
at Lena's kitchen counter, sipping a Mojito. “I know you’re still
grieving over Roger, but you need to start living again. You’re
only twenty-nine, you’re too young to be a widow.”

Danielle was right. It had been over a year
since Lena’s husband had been killed in that canoeing accident. It
was time to start living again. Thanks to a generous life insurance
policy and an excellent series of investments, Lena was able to
continue living in their upscale, master-planned community of Plush
Run. But she had indeed let herself go, paying little care to her
appearance. Lena knew she needed to get active again, start dating,
and maybe fire-up that real estate license.

“There's a beautiful girl under those
SteinMart clothes,” said Danielle.

“What's wrong with SteinMart,” said Lena.

“Its for women who've given up.” said
Danielle, her phone beeping. Danielle pulled the phone out of her
purse. “Hey! Check this one out, 'Plush Run Casino Night'! They
need volunteers to man the blackjack tables and serve drinks. 'Help
the ‘Plush Run Chorale’ raise money for the Pee-Wee soccer team's
trip to Sweden.'”

“Ugh,” thought Lena, grimly. “Sounds like
hell.”

“You’re going,” said Danielle.

“No, I’m not.

“It’s for your son's soccer team!” said
Danielle. “—And Cory's too. We HAVE to volunteer! This is a great
chance for you to get back in the swing of things.”

“Too soon,” said Lena.

“Don't you want our boys to go to Europe?
What an opportunity!”

“They're a little young,” said Lena. “I don't
think they'll get much out of it.”

“Travel broadens the mind, said Danielle,
“This fundraiser will be fun and you need fun.”

The next day they met at the Fox and Hen bar
in Old Town Plush Run. It was Danielle’s idea to get a drink before
the meeting. Lena and Danielle both ordered Mojitos and chips. Lena
was slightly jealous of her lovely friend who was also a bit
younger. Danielle had gotten a big divorce settlement from her
restaurant owner husband after catching him in bed with his
eighteen year-old hostesses. Danielle now spent her days working on
her degree in Circadian Studies at nearby East-Central Lancaster
State. She prowled the campus, looking irresistible in her
short-shorts, tank top and reading glasses, all the while having
casual affairs with a different grad student each week. “The boys
are cute,” Danielle would say, “But since I’m the only grad student
with a million dollar home, I always end up feeling like a mom—
paying for everything.”

“It could be worth it,” said Lena.

“When was the last time you were at the
stylist?” asked Danielle, looking great today in a tight-fitting
long-waisted top with yoga pants.

“June,” said Lena.

“That recently?” said Danielle

“Of last year.”

“Yep. I can tell. I’m making an appointment
for you tomorrow. You’ve got to get that mess blown, trimmed and
straightened.”

“I’m fine,” said Lena.

“No you’re not.”

“What do you know about Shane Evans?” Lena
said, changing the subject, leaning forward, her voice low.

“Oh no,” said Danielle.

“’Oh no’, what?” said Lena. “Is he gay?”

“No. But he's out of your league. Don’t do
that to yourself. Every woman in Plush Run is after Shane
Evans.”

“Including you?” said Lena.

“Even the married ones,” said Danielle,
“Especially the married ones.”

“You're not being supportive.”

“Give it up, Lena.”

“But I see him twice a week! Our kids play
together! We’ve bonded.”

“He doesn’t know you exist,” said
Danielle.

“Like you'd know,” said Lena.

“He’s divorced, loaded and gorgeous,” said
Danielle. “Just understand what a big bull’s-eye that is. His
playing field is HUGE.”

“Oh shit,” said Lena, looking off to the
side.

“What?”

“That’s Brett Crater over there. Ryan got
written up at Fuzzy Pals for throwing blocks at his daughter. We
both got called into a conference. He's a total dickhead.
Threatened to press charges.”

“Press charges against a four year-old?” said
Danielle.

Brett was in his mid-thirties with a shaved
head and beard. A general contractor before the housing collapse,
he now spent his days happily unencumbered thanks to his well-paid
corporate lawyer wife. It was also the reason he was sitting at the
bar mid-afternoon on a Wednesday. He caught sight of the two
ladies.

“Oh great…” mumbled Danielle, “He’s coming
over.

Brett was good looking with a solid build and
a chiseled face that, along with the trimmed beard, made him look
rugged and a little older than he was.

“Hello ladies,” he said with what looked like
a sneer.

“Hi Brett, said Danielle. “Wife out of
town?”

“Sure is, honey” replied Brett. “What are you
doing tonight?”

“Cleaning,” said Danielle, cringing.

“Uh huh,” said Brett as he looked down at
Lena staring out the window. “I’m glad to see your boy hasn’t been
beating up my daughter this week.”

“He wasn’t beating up on your daughter,” said
Lena still not making eye contact. “He threw a block at her.”

“In the interests of keeping the peace, I’ll
ignore that comment and wish you ladies a good day,” Brett said
walking out the front door.

“He’s got a nice ass,” said Danielle.

“Ewe,” said Lena.

“And he’s hung. Did you see that bulge?”

“Oh, God, please, don’t tell me you have
thing for him,” said Lena.

“Sure. If I had no self-worth or had a tumor
growing out of my head, I’d be totally hot for him— Oh no! We’re
late!” said Danielle glancing at the clock on the wall.

Lena and Danielle arrived to the community
center as the Casino Night volunteer meeting was winding down.
Walking up to a table at the center of the room, Meg Stauffer, the
event coordinator, told them that the only jobs still available
were cocktail waitresses.

“Oh,” said Danielle, uncharacteristically
subdued. “What do you think, Lena? Do you want to do it?”

“Cocktail waitress?” said Lena.

“It’s for a good cause,” said Danielle.

“Uh, girls, check out the cocktail outfits
before you say that,” said a weary Meg as she reached into a bag
and pulled out two tiny pieces of fabric. She tossed them on the
table in front of them.

“Is this... Mylar?” said Lena holding up the
weightless material.

“Probably,” said Meg. “The Casino Night
fundraising package we purchased is big on realism. These outfits
are replicas of the waitress outfits at “Wave” in Vegas. They’re
only supposed to last one night before being discarded.”

“I can’t wear that,” said Lena.

“The fishnets will give you some coverage,”
said Meg.

“No way…” said Lena.

“And there’s this too,” said Meg tossing a
plastic bag with a thong and a pair of pasties inside.