Angie’s Lifeguard Stand
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I was happy to see Angelica when she showed up on our back deck one Saturday in late July. “Hey Greg,” she shouted when she walked out back, “long time no see.” It had been. I hadn’t seen her nine months or so and I was happy today that I’d get to be around her ebullient presence all afternoon.
To that point my summer was a wash out. I was preparing to leave Savannah for the Midwest to work on a PhD. At the time I was living in a house with two other guys, Frank and Matt who were pretty good company. Despite that it was a rough couple of months. My fiancé, Anne, broke off our engagement. I spent most of the summer by myself preparing for the fall, playing golf, and occasionally hanging out on our back deck with an assortment of my roomies’ friends. Most of them were great people and I looked forward to spending the occasional weekend afternoon on the back deck with a cold beer and the charring beef on the grill while chatting up Matt’s friends, a number of whom were attractive women. I had kept my hands to myself though, not wanting to really get into so soon after the disaster and with me leaving shortly.
Angelica, Angie for short, was different; I couldn’t resist flirting with her. We met the year before at the university where she worked in the graphic design department. I was helping organize a talk for a distinguished visiting lecturer and needed her help. Angie was easy to talk to and always full of questions. She had a mischievous glint in her eyes, especially when she smiled—her nose scrunched ad her eyes squinted just a tad. “What’s up buttercup?” she’d always giggle to me in her twangy Southern accent when I entered her office. I always gave her a hard time because she was local and came from money; she’d attended the right schools and played the dutiful role as debutante as a teenager. “Why do you sound like you’re a cowgirl from Muskogee or Austin if you’re supposed to be one of these rice baron girls?” I’d tease with a wink.
She looked gorgeous and it was good luck that she happened to run in Matt’s circle and showed up on the deck that afternoon. I noticed her physical presence in a way I hadn’t really before, and was happy that my “hottie radar” decided to go back into operation. She was of an average height, maybe 5’5″ and average weight. Her hair had been long and wavy before but now it was shoulder length and straight. Her blue eyes danced like always and a sexy spate of summer freckles danced across her nose and her chest. Angie was in her mid-thirties, but had the coltish flirtyness of a college girl. I tried not to stare too long, but it was tough. She had on some form-hugging denim shorts with yellow tank top and brown sandals. Her legs were shapely and stemmed into a wonderfully rounded pair of hips, which I quickly took note of. I’ve always loved hips because they are so feminine with their smooth roundness, and hers were especially fetching. When I hugged Angie hello that afternoon it was tough not to let my hands drift down over them. That wasn’t all there was to appreciate, she had a wonderfully rounded ass, small and perky breasts, and a golden tan from lying out—a summer girl, my favorite weakness!
We spent the day talking on the back deck in the sun. She found out I was leaving and pretended to pout about it. “But hun,” she whispered while people milled around us, “how will I get the chance to act on these impulses I have when I’m around you?”
I swallowed and looked her in the eyes and smiled, “I don’t leave for a few days, feel free to do what you want.” She giggled at that and winked. The day went on and we ate and drank and I noticed she was gone. It upset me because I thought we had something going on. All day she had let her hand gently fall on my forearm as she leaned in to tell me something private, or patted my gently on the Isparta Escort back when I passed, and I had even caught he admiring gaze as she checked out my ass and made a observation to her girlfriends. Maybe she was just a flirt.
I was in the house putting up some dishes as the remaining partygoers lounged outback, waiting fore the tiki torches to be lit and for long night of bullshit stories and jokes to commence. The warm southern night was cooler than normal—a slight breeze off the ocean cooled things a bit, even a few miles inland. I heard a car out front and saw Angie pull up—I looked out the front screen door and she waved at me. Then she put her finger to her lips in a “shh” signal and beckoned me.
I eased out the front door quietly and jogged out to her navy blue Jetta. Her passenger side window went down and she told me, “Go grab a quick shower, dress casual, and meet me back out here in twenty minutes.”
“Your going away party kiddo,” she smiled. I hustled back into the house and quickly shaved, showered, put on some fresh summer cloths and my flip flops. I glanced back out and saw Angie waiting so I eased back out the door into the night and climbed into her passenger seat. She smiled, giggled, leaned over and gave me warm kiss on the lips. She smiled and pulled the Volkswagen away from the curb.
We drove towards the beach. “I’m going to take you to my favorite place,” she told me. “Good oysters, good drinks, right on the water.”
“Sounds great,” I nodded. It was—dark and cool. We ordered up bushel of steamed oysters, a Maker’s Mark on the rocks for me, and a Jameson’s for her (“Us debs only drink the best.”)
We ate and then wandered out to the deck to finish our drinks. Standing there with her short hair ruffling in the breeze I admired her—she had changed to a tan button up shirt with short sleeves and a pair of linen pants that allowed me to admire her thong. She looked up at me and smiled in her own special way and I kissed her.
It was a great kiss. The pressure was taut; I felt her body melt into mine as one of my hands cupped the back of her sweet neck and the other wrapped around to the small of her back. Our lips parted and she sighed as my tongue, cooled with the ice from my bourbon, slid inside and twisted around her tart tongue. Her mouth closed around my lower lip in a sucking motion and she lightly bit it; it felt wonderful to be standing there in the night kissing a beautiful woman who wanted to be with me as much has I wanted to be wither her. I hoped that Anne knew what she missing out on by leaving me and then knew in an instant that there with Angie, I didn’t care what she thought. Because for that night Angie and I were a couple and we were going to enjoy ourselves.
She pulled away smiling at me, “wow, she breathed, where’d a proper guy like you learn to kiss like that?”
“It’s not proper to tell a deb such a thing,” I joked.
“Shit,” she laughed and smiled, “C’mon follow me like a good boy.” With that, she took my hand and tugged me down the steps of the deck towards the sand and into the night, away from all the light of the restaurant.
We stopped and kicked off our flops, the sand was still warm from the hot summer day but the breeze was cool off the water. We held ands and the sensation of her skin, the heat, and the cool all together felt so damned erotic. Almost as erotic as erotic as the sight of her nipples piercing through her blouse, which I saw as she turned to face me and a little light that escaped form the homes on the other side of the sand dunes lit her up her up. She smiled at me as I stared and crooked her finger, “C’mon big boy. Come with me.” She led me to a lifeguard stand, “An old reliable place,” she told me. We kissed again at the foot Isparta Escort Bayan of the ladder, our hands roaming all over each others bodies.
She pulled away and crawled up the ladder and I followed her. She was waiting across on the other side of the stand, unbuttoning her blouse—I hurriedly joined her and told her to let me I pulled the buttons out one by one while kissing her neck, her earlobe, her cheek, and then her collarbone and shoulder. I kissed at her hard then , sucking her bottom lip like she had mine and she moaned and leaned against me—my left hand and down her soft side to her full hip caressing the linen gently while my tongue moved in a frenzied pace through her ever hot mouth. My right hand slide up her soft stomach and I cupped her small breast through the white lace of her demi cup bra while she moaned her approval. “This feels right,” I whispered.” She smiled and nodded. I felt her hard nipple poking my palm and I gently swirled my palm with my fingers spread wide—this produced a more guttural noise. My southern belle was turned on for real now.
If I had any doubts they disappeared now, because her hands were rubbing my ass and the bulge in my shorts. “I want this Greg,” she told me, “Give it to me please.”
“I will—but we have to get there first.” With that she kissed me while unbuttoning my shorts and unbuckling my belt. Her smooth hand slid inside my boxers and squeezed my scrotum expertly; her index finger pressed under my balls to that perfect spot just under sac while she did it. I knew this was going to be fun. Her hand drifted up to my now rock hard and throbbing cock, he hand pulsed roughly at the base and then flittered up my shaft until the tip, where her fingertips danced under and around it; my purple cockhead drooled in anticipation. I kissed down her neck and my hand freed her right breast from its satin prison. Her puffy nipple, pointed, conelike, and pouty, stood out and begged for attention. I kissed and licked around her darkening areola gently before sucking her Hershey’s kiss shaped hard nipple between my lips and lolling it around on my tongue. I gave it a gently nibble with my teeth and she moaned and leaned back and into me as her left hand speeded up its ministrations and her right cupped the back of my head.
God, I wanted Angie. It was tough to control myself and take the time to make her feel everything I wanted her to feel.
I knelt on the wooden floor of the lifeguard stand and kissed her stomach. I tugged at the drawstring of her linen pants and slowly lowered them as she steadied herself by placing a hand on the back of my head and another on the railing, “What next love?” she asked.
“Shhhh, Just relax Ang…I want you to feel good,” I said as I looked up at her beauty and smiled
“I do,” she responded. And then she gasped and her knees buckled as my tongue ran up the satin front of her panties—I had the soft flesh of her hips squeezed between my fingers and my hands running back to caress and squeeze her bountiful asscheeks . . . all the while my tongue was running from the underside of where I though her slit was to the top. She reached down and pulled the panties to the side to expose herself to cool ocean breeze and my hot tongue.
Her pussy was beautiful. She didn’t shave completely bald, but she trimmed her pubic hair into a neat triangle, which I love. She had full lips that were pouting and her faint musk drew me in I rapaciously drew a tongue up inside her tasting her wetness before sliding one and then two fingers in and crooking them in the same “come here” motion she enticed me with earlier. She shuddered and I drew her tiny bud of a clit between my tongues that I could lick it. She was shouting now, yelling out my name in pleasure—her ass pressed against the beam Escort Isparta of the stand and her hands wrapped around my head while she rubbed her now sopping pussy up and down my face in ecstasy… “Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh . . ..yes!” She yelled as the waves and her first orgasm washed over her. I didn’t stop, but instead pulled my fingers out and rotated my tongue, giving her the flat part and working slowly as she panted above me, “Greg, Greg, Greg, Sweetie, stop, I’m,” and with that her second orgasm washed over her. She finally buckled and dropped to her knees and kissed me deep, I could feel her hot chest pressed against mine.
She pulled my shirt up and off as I finished pulling her open panties short off and unclasping her bra. She pushed me back onto the wood floor and pulled my shorts off before standing my cock up, winking at me and then swallowing it whole. “Oh shit Angie,” I smiled, “that’s awesome, and nobody’s done that.” I looked down to see her nose buried in my trimmed pubes and felt her and working my nuts as she deep throated me. The sensations were tremendous—I felt her tongue wriggle around my shaft and then she worked back up and off before crawling up my body.
“Give it to me,” she asked. I reached down behind her thighs, spread her open and she sat—working my swollen and torched cock in and inch at a time—rotating her hips back and forth and up and down with my rhythm till I was buried to the hilt in her love channel. she sat back and rode me with her hands on my chest—the wind off the water blew her hair back gently and the moonlight illuminated her soft stomach, beautiful navel, and up turned breasts and her smile. We played like that for a few minutes, “it’s my turn to take over sexy,” I whispered.
She pulled off and I laid her down on my clothes. I settled between her legs and pulled her right knee up by crooking my arm under while latching her left down with my right foot wrapped around her ankle. She looked up at me with passion and I pushed in the entire way, burying every inch of my thick cock in one thrust as she moaned and called my name out. I began fucking her in earnest, she had been turning me on since noon and I wanted my payback—she must have agreed because with one hand buried in her hair and the other wrapped around my back, she began furiously bucking up against me, giving me every bit I gave her, “C’mon stud—fuck me hard, give that cock to me, she growled in my ear.”
I stopped—”What do you want sexy? Tell me and I’ll give it to you.”
Her eyes shot open and then glimmered at me, “I want you hot meat to fill me up with cum, I want you to fuck me so good I’ll have to shove my biggest dildo in my cunt and frig my self with a showerhead after you’ve left, replaying this in my mind.”
That did it.
I pulled out and started giving her long hard, thumping strokes as the hand in her hair reached down and twiddled her clit. I worked hard—thanking god for those kegal exercises—and pounded away. Soon she was howling her orgasm, and then she reached around and down and squeezed my sac. That did it and finally—finally!—I shot my load deep into her. In the second before I climax my engorged cock, which by now is feels as hard and thick as it can get, feels even stiffer. From deep inside, somewhere under my balls, the first load builds and in one large spasm it jumps and jerks in one gloriously stretched out moment. Then a few smaller spasms come as the cum emptied into Angie. Satisfied, I collapsed onto top of her and kissed her deeply.
We laughed hugged and kissed and lay thee for a long while—watching the moon dance on the ocean and making love over and over that night. We explored our bodies, talked about how glad we were that we had that night because it meant a lot to each of us and we would always remember it fondly. Then the sun came up and she took me home. A few days later I moved. On very dark, lonely nights when a foot or two of snow howled around my bachelor’s apartment that winter and even after that, I thought back to the one night stand Angie and I had in that lifeguard stand.
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