Of course, we had no idea about methods or anything; just ambition and hot pants. And a three-day weekend; the following Friday was a school holiday, which was just as well, because psychology or- no psychology, neither one of us was doing too well in school.
Friday morning, bright and early, Dottie appeared at my house with the car, a fantastic fireball that belonged to Creeps Kuroski who worked at the garage. It had no insurance, and Dottie had no real driver's license, but Creeps would have loaned it to her in any case. He hoped desperately to sink his oily.
fingers into those boobs of hers, but he was always too busy to try. I guess he thought of the car as laying a ground-work, sort of. In any case, he had no particular worries, since he had excavated the car out of junk originally.
It was bright orange, with aluminum trimmings, and some of it was Ford. but lot of it was Kuroski.
I climbed in, and slung a bag of things into the back; Dottie pushed down the accelerator, and we were off in a cloud of smoke.
"I told them we were going to the beach," I said, above the noise of the car. "And we might stay over with your aunt in Portsville."
"Crazy," Dottie said, taking a curve with abandon. "If we can't find something like men in three days, we aren't the Terrible Twosome."
We were dressed for the hunt, frilly dresses, lipstick, stockings even… the works. We looked eighteen, we hoped.
Our plans were a little indefinite, but we actually did intend to start operating at the beach, above Portaville. It was far enough from home so that we wouldn't be too likely to run across old acquaintances. And if nothing else, we could always swim, too.
As it turned out, that was about it. Swimming, hah.
We had arrived, and strolled around the town, which was one of the antique-and-quaint ones we've got around our end of the country. Then, up and down the boardwalk, and finally we sat and absorbed sodas, thoughtfully.
"Plenty of admiring glances," I said, under-toned.
"Married men," Dottie said, "and with their wives."
"It doesn't look like a good day," I said. "And I'm hot. Let's swim."
"I'm hot too," Dottie said, and aimed a bedroom glance at the soda jerk, who turned bright red, and retreated behind the milkshake machine. "But I don't think swimming will help. Still… I've got this bikini."
She did indeed, and if the town constable hadn't been absorbed in a copy of Playboy magazine, he'd have had to arrest her. It was an ultimate sort of bikini; mine, while fairly skimpy, was practically a Mother Hubbard next to it.
We lolled a little, but it really was terribly hot, and the sea looked calm and cool. We went in and swam out; after while we floated on our backs, with those jugs of Dottie's up over the water like water wings.
There was a shining white hull, quietly lying a distance away, on the blue horizon.
"Oh, my," Dottie said, dreamily, staring at it. "Sailors."
"Millionaires," I said. "Dried-up ones, I'll bet."
"Sailors, too," Dottie said, rolling over lazily, and stroking slowly toward the distant boat.
I followed, but called out. "You can't swim all that way."
"I know, but…" Dottie said, and then uttered a small shriek. "Eee!"
I thought of sharks, but – after all, we were buddies. I splashed on, toward her, hurriedly, while she performed some odd antics, diving, and surfacing, and shrieking some more.
"I – glub! – lost the top!" she screamed loudly, and dived again.
And so she had. Expecting a two-inch band-aid to hold in those bobbing boobies was a bit much, if you ask me. But it was gone, all right, and there was the Town Constable, back there on the beach, ambling up and down. He'd finished his magazine, damn it!
"Indecent exposure!" I said. "Wow!"
We're very big on indecent exposure and lewd carriage and all that, up here in Connecticut.
Both of us tried diving, and splashing a good deal, but no go. But without it, we had a large problem, so we kept trying. We came up for about the fourteenth time, and there it was, plowing along toward us with a white spray of foam under its bows, shining gold-leaf letters reading Cailipygee II, and a voice, booming at us.
"All right, girls, keep calm!"
Keep calm, he says. And there are these beautiful big brown male types, leaning over and hurling lines and so on, and an enormous male' grabbing at Dottie as he leaned down, with both hands. She kept trying to explain. But she was lifted hastily, as if she weighed nothing at all; his big brown mitts were under her armpits, and up she went, into the yacht. I felt another pair of male hands under me, and up I went, absolutely twanging with it all.
However, Dottie was the main item in the show.
The large gentleman who had pulled her out stared at her lush boobs with an expression of total stun, stepped back a pace, and looked again. He was big, with iron-grey hair, an enormous nose, and skin the color of mahogany, which you could see a lot of, since he wore only shorts.
The other two were also large, muscular types both with black curly hair, and looking a good deal alike. All of them looked goggle-eyed, and you couldn't blame them.
"I lost the top," Dottie explained, quite unnecessarily.
"We weren't drowning," I said. "But thanks anyway."
"Oho!" the large gentleman with grey hair said. "I see!" He grinned with glittering white teeth, and pulled an enormous bandana from his pocket, handing it to Dottie. "It is not polite, please to excuse. But they are so pretty. Ha!"
Dottie knotted it around herself, but took her time. However, once those two were out of the way, the men started noticing me a little, too, which I accepted with a ladylike flutter of the eyelashes.
"Me, I am Eugenious Polycopulos," the older man said, bowing. 'These are my sons, Pericles and Anaximander…"
"Call me Perry," the slightly bigger one said, with more white teeth shining. "And Ax," the other one said. "Can't ask people to manage Greek names."
"Yes, so," the old man said. "Me, then, Gene, like everybody is calling me anyway, ha. So, you were not after all drowning when we fetch you out, like the Venus from the sea, hey?"
"I'm afraid not," I told him. "But don't let it worry you."
"But you must not be chill, yes," he said, and clapped his hands. "Diomede!"
There was a steward and there were drinks. Then, there we were in the salon of the yacht, very slightly warmed up with that marvelous booze, laughing and telling jokes, entirely at home. Gene turned on a record player and we danced; things got chummier and chummier.
The one called Ax seemed to have more or less selected me, while the other was paying attention to Dottie. Gene, who told us he was the owner of the yacht, divided his time between both of us, and it was all very exciting, if confusing.
"We are traveling around for pleasure, you understand," the one called Ax was telling me. He had his arm around me, and his fingers kept sliding up under my bikini top, very sneaky.
"Ah, pleasure," Perry agreed, walking his fingers around on Dottie's tummy, and grinning. "It's because we are Greeks, and Greeks are always great travelers. Odysseus, Columbus, all those. For instance, we Greeks are always going around the world."
"But everywhere we go, we still think the Greek wine is best, yes," Gene said, and poured some more all around. He put another record on and began snapping his fingers. "Also, the Greek dancing, the Greek sense of rhythm, ha." He skipped, and leaped, twiddling his heels, and Perry jumped up, and joined him, twirling around. "Yoi! Evoe!"
Gene spun around some more, and puffed a bit, grinning widely. "But I must leave you, excusing, please…" lie said. 'To do this and that…" He exited, and suddenly Ax's fingers took to exploring a bit faster. He managed to catch my left nipple and started to rotate it, as if he were trying to tune a radio. It felt very nice indeed.
"Eee," I said. "I think you're getting the wave length."
"Oh, American girls are so humorous," he said, and tried the other nipple for fine tuning.
Perry, on the other big seat, was trying his version of the same approach on Dottie, who seemed to be enjoying it too.
"You would like to travel, yes?" Perry was panting in Dottie's ear, while she wriggled. "Explore, maybe?"
"You're both explorers, I see," I told Ax, who was darting his tongue into my ear, and had his other hand down inside my bikini bottom, stretching the material quite a lot One of his long, busy fingers was sliding down the crease between my cheeks, tickling like crazy, and I simply couldn't wait for ever, much as I appreciated all this attention. It was time to get down to essentials.
I reached over and grabbed the zipper on his shorts and gave it a good solid yank, all the way down.
What popped out was… well, I just haven't got the right word. Surprising? What an understatement!
Ax just grinned, looking pleased with himself, as he had every right to be, while I looked over the bit of Greek architecture I'd uncovered. He slid off his shorts, and kicked them into a corner, still grinning, and I just sat there looking at it for a moment longer.
"Wow!" I said to Dottie, who was sitting and looking at it too, just as agog as I was. "Isn't that thing the living end?"
She stuck out her lower lip and shook her head. "I think it's too big," she said. "I mean, it's nice. But it's too big. It'll never fit"
Ax was still standing there in front of me, his hands on his hips, allowing me to get a very close look at his manly physique. It was at least ten inches long, I thought, but maybe it was that Greek wine getting to my eyesight Also, it was rather slim, with a lovely round top, all flushed and ready-looking. I leaned back, and put my hands behind my head, fluffing out my hair nicely, and letting the postion lift my breasts up in that way men like, which seemed to get Ax even more interested.
"I don't know, Dottie," I told her. "You might be right, but a girl can only try. Hey, why don't you see if old Perry over there has anything like this?"
"After all, we're brothers," Perry said, getting up and removing his shorts.
Dottie looked from one to the other, and I did too, but we just couldn't make up our minds.
"I think Perry's is shorter," Dottie said, after a minute, wrinkling her brow. He looked slightly put out, and she hastened to add, "Only by a hair – and just as pretty."
"Hoi!" Ax said, advancing toward me. "This is maybe a beauty contest?" And he grabbed me, and began to peel me, not a very difficult task, when you remember what I was wearing.
I just didn't have time at all to pay attention to what might be happening to Dottie for a few minutes, because Ax was doing so many interesting things. I did my best to cooperate, but it got awfully difficult to remember all the bits rd read in Harold's' books; still, I don't think I did too badly.
He was pretty big at that – all over; at one point he collected my right tit in one hand and squeezed, grabbing me between the legs with the other and literally tossing me up in the air like a doll-a head-spinning experience. However, a second or two later, I managed to get a firm grip on his jewels and started playing ping-pang with them, which heated him up a lot.
Just about then I caught a glimpse of Dottie, who was spread out across the other seat; Perry was pouring brandy into her bellybutton, and they were both giggling like lunatics as he tried drinking it out again.
"Oof!" I said, half across Ax's lap. "I'm as hot as a firecracker!" I grabbed that elegant dong and gave it an encouraging pull or two, rolling over on my back as I did it. I was sort of hoping we'd give up the Greek wrestling and get down to brass tacks.
The next things I knew, Ax was doing exactly that, but not quite the way I'd expected. He rolled me over, bottom up, and both big hands grabbed my bottom cheeks, spread them apart, while he laughed like anything.
"Ooooh, ouch!" I shouted, loudly, as I had excellent reason to shout; he had inserted his thumb into my rear in a way I had simply not expected at all.
"Hoohah!" Ax said. "For this virgin, the Greek olive oil is the best thing, so." And he splashed something oily about, which he'd probably grabbed off the cabin shelves overhead; and the next thing I knew, that long slim tool was sliding into me by the rear entrance, all the way.
To my complete surprise, it not only didn't hurt, it felt rather nice; but much as I hate to kick over classical tradition, it wasn't nearly as much fun as the other way. It was for Ax, though, from the way he was carrying on; and his hand got underneath me, and he fingered away at my slit, which nearly made up for the rest.
From Dottie's indignant squeals, I quickly gathered that Perry had done exactly the same thing to her, and turning my head, I saw that I was right There was Perry, pushing at least half of his enormous length up between Dottie's tight round cheeks, whiles she bucked around and yelled; and he seemed to be enjoying it as much as Ax was.
I could feel that great big rod pulsing madly, as Ax bumped up and down, and from the way he was panting and kissing my neck, I could tell he was getting ready, all right But as far as I was concerned, I wasn't halfway there, in spite of feeling all nice and tingly all over. It looked as if Was going to be on the losing end of this game, and I made up my mind to try reversing things a little.
Ax emitted several bull-noises, and thumped it in right up to the root; but all the olive oil must have made his hands slippery, because I managed to slide around, very like an eel, and his tool came out with a pop like pulling a cork. Before he could do more than assume a surprised expression, which I could see by looking back over my shoulder, I lifted my rear way up, reached down, and tucked that pretty Greek thingie where I felt it be-longed, right in my quiff.
Ax might have been surprised, but he wasn't one to back out of anything, not that one; he slid it right on into me, where it felt like I'd been measured exactly for it Tight as a glove, in fact; I opened my mouth and meowed with the sheer pleasure of it, and started rippling and pulling on his dong with all I had.
"Whooooeeee!" he said, and then something explosive sounding in Greek, and he began pushing harder and harder, squeezing me as if he were trying to make Greek wine out of me.
"Ooooh, my, that's the right place!" I said, and started melting like hot ice cream. I caught one glimpse of Dottie, and in the middle of an orgasm, I began to laugh my head off, which fortunately didn't interfere with a thing. It was really funny though; Dottie had evidently decided against the Greek method en mute, just as I had, but had tried a different approach. She had Perry on his back and was vainly, but enthusiastically, trying to gobble all of him. She had only managed to get a third of his tool into her mouth, but she had the remaining two-thirds in her hands, and was doing all sorts of things to it.
But I was coming like a fountain, and so was Ax, and I just couldn't really pay much attention to what was going on over there.
"Oh, my, oh… lovely, marvelous, fabulous…" I was burbling away in Ax's ear, and he was gasping like a whale, and muttering Greek. I heard Perry making similar noises, too.
After a bit, Dottie and I sat up and started catching our breaths; but our Greek swains looked as if they weren't ever going to catch theirs. Perry managed to make it as far as the bar, where he fixed another round all around; then the two of them sat there, squeezing here and there, but not showing any signs of an immediate return to action.
"Uh," I said, to Ax. "Your father… he's the captain of this ship, right?"
He opened his eyes, which were a bit glazed, and nodded.
"I think I remember somewhere, something about the captain being the one who deals with all emergencies, sort of," I said, sticking out my lip; I sipped the drink Perry had brought, and cast a quick look at both brothers. Dottie looked at me, and I looked at her.
"What's that big red button there?" Dottie asked, innocently.
"Uh?" Perry said. "Oh, that Emergency alarm to the bridge."
She reached over and pressed it, and a loud gong went off somewhere overhead. There was a sound of running feet, and Gene burst into the salon, puffing and frowning. He stood there for a second, in the open door, staring at the scene.
Perry and Ax had both jumped up, a bit guiltily, and dumped me and Dottie on our respective couches, where we reclined, looking seductive and smiling prettily at the captain.
"Who push button?" Gene demanded. "Is only for emergencies, like fires and sinkings?"
"Oooh, Captain, are you any good at putting out fires?" Dottie asked, innocently, and wriggled her hips a bit. I giggled and lifted a glass, gently trickling a little iced liquid down on my damp breasts.
"Might be a fire any minute down here, Captain Gene." I said. "Maybe you ought to stay and take care of it"
"OhohoHO?" he said, in that deep bull voice of his, which gave me all sorts of shivery feelings up the spine; and he grinned at both of us. Then he picked up a jug of wine off the bar, and threw back his head, draining it off.
"Is Greek saying, never send boy to do man's job," he commented, and then jerked his thumb at his two sons. "You fellas, go run ship for awhile or something, ha."
In a moment, we were alone; Gene ran a hug ham-sized hand through his iron grey mop, and grinned at us.
"Hey, what we got here?" he inquired. "Two nice girls, naked like Aphrodite, and it looks like my boys hardly up to stuff. Maybe I got to get cook to put more vitamins in their dinners, hey?" He glanced from one of us to the other, and belched thoughtfully.
"Hard to tell where to start," he said. "Okay, we do both."
He shucked his shorts, and laughed deep in his throat as we both sat staring in awed silence. This one would make his sons look like bunny rabbits, I thought. Even in what I assume was half-mast position, Gene's prong was a mighty sight.
"Nice, hah?" he commented cherry, and came over to sit down between us; one huge arm around each of our waists, he lolled back, chuckling, fingering my tits with his left hand and Dottie's with his right.
"Yah, is too bad," Gene said, his hands wandering around on us. "Young fellas nowadays… not up to enough. Is funny, though, I notice girls do just same as grandmas used to when they were girls, bet. Me, I like American girls, yah." He gave us impartial bites on left and right ears, chuckling.
"How you like American boys, Sweeties?" he inquired. "You get enough, yes?"
"Well…" I said, a little doubtfully, and Dottie lifted an eyebrow, meaningfully. Gene roared with laughter.
"Same trouble all over world," he told us. "We sail all over, everywhere girls complain, not enough… hey, what's American word for it?"
"I think he means screwing," Dottie said, demurely.
"Balling?" I suggested.
"Hey, you know all words?" Gene said, with a surprised grin. "Listen, I learn English in Berlitz school; they don't teach good words. How about you teach me some words, hey?"
"Words?" I said, and I must have looked a bit put out.
He laughed harder than ever. "Okay, tell you what, we not stick to just words, hey? But every time I point, you tell me English words, I tell you Greek ones; we mix busy with pleasing, yah."
Both of us fell into fits of giggles, which Gene seemed to approve of, roaring harder than ever. He controlled himself long enough to grasp my bobber with thumb and finger, as if he were testing a grape, an bent to give it a smacking kiss.
"Wow!" I said, tingling.
"What you call that?" he asked, goozling Dottie's boobies a bit for good measure.
"Oh, wow!" Dottie said. "Eeeh. Breast, tit, eeh!"
"Boobies, bumpers…" I started to say, but he laughed louder than ever, and grunted some more Greek.
"Lots of words for everything," he said, and swung Dottie up, as she squealed in surprise, and dropped her, spread-hipped. on his lap. From the open-mouthed noise she let out, I gathered the idea that the enormous thing had been growing since my last quick look at it a few seconds before. I certainly wasn't at half-mast then.
He crammed Dottie down on his lap, with her nose on his chest, one big hand on her bottom, and jounced her up and down, guffawing happily as he did. His other hand went all the way around my waist and down into my lap, flipping around in my sticky fuzz. I squeaked and rose like a pheasant, till I was standing on the seat beside him; but his active thumb followed me up, still flipping away like crazy.
He flung his head back, and swung me around, lifting as he pulled; I got my legs over his shoulders, until I sat astride him piggyback, or possibly piggy-front would be the right word. His mustache bristled right there up against my tender pink mound, and when he laughed this time, it felt as if a hot wind were blowing right between my thighs. I grabbed at his shoulders to steady myself, while below, Dottie was enjoying the ride of her life, from the sound.
"Ooof, oohgh, oof!" she was saying. "It's so BIG, it's… oh, Gene, it's enourmooooous…"
If he hadn't been just as busy up at my end, I might have felt a little jealous, but I had no reason to be. Gene's big hooked nose was right up against my clitoris, and I swear he was wiggling the tip of that nose like an amorous llama; but even better, his tongue, as long and pointed as a snake's, was popping in and out of my pussy. In addition, he was blowing into it from time to time, roaring with laughter, and his bristly mustache was tickling my crotch into final ecstasy.
"Yi!" I yelled, bouncing on his shoulders, and he let out an ecstatic Greek grunt, just as Dottie gasped loudly; we were all coming together, and I had just a second to admire the marvelous timing of it all before I went into epileptic fits of orgasm. Finally, we were all flopped limply in a damp heap, Gene still grunting with elephantine laughter from time to time, and we two giggling weakly.
"Hoo BOY!" he said, sitting up. "First, an-other bottle." He stood up, grabbed one from the bar, and drained it; he turned, grinning, holding out another.
"You girls like maybe little pick-you-up?" he inquired. "Before next round?"
"Next round?" I asked weakly, and saw that that enormous pillar of meat of his was still up, and apparently undamaged, though somewhat damp. He glanced down at it with a prideful grin, opened the second bottle, and poured a slash of brandy over it. "Stuff good for both ends," he said, and laughed.
"He's got to be kidding," Dottie said, panting slightly; she was lying as limp as a French doll, goggling her eyes at Gene's inexorable advance.
"Okay, Sweetie, you get let off this time," he said, grinning at her. "Only, cute girlie here, she got to get one more, how you say, screwy. That right word?"
"Oh, my goodness," I said, as he came up and knelt over my slightly crumpled body. "I mean, it's the right word, but…"
"Yum!" he said, and engulfed me in a bear grip, low down; his mustache felt like Brillo as he planted hot kisses on both nipples and his hands parted my thighs, spreading me until I suspected I might split. He blew in my ear and I felt the huge throbbing knob of his cock pressing against my wet slit; but he was surprisingly gentle, considering.
"Yah!" he said, nibbling my ear. "Now, we make old-fashioned belly bump, just for a variety, hey?" He slid it slowly in, an inch at a time, caressing me all over as he did it. It was tremendous, but to my surprise, it went in… and in… and IN. It was in so far that it felt as if it was bumping against my collarbone, and I felt as if I were simply filled right up- wow! I couldn't say anything at all except some odd meowing sounds, which seemed to tickle Gene enormously.
"Hey, girlie, you like, hey?"
"Oh, man, I like," I managed to say, and he started moving it, very slowly. I almost fell apart.
"I like it. I like it!" I yelped, and brought my hips up in spite of his weight, got my feet around behind him, and started kicking my heels against the hard muscles of his back.
"Okay, first we go… IN…" he said. "Nice and slow… and out… and in…"
"Christmas!" I squeaked, and shoved myself up against him harder, gripping him with my legs; his bristly hair against my fuzzy down scraped deliciously and now he really started moving.
"Uh, uh, uh!" he said, and pushed harder and harder; I thought something had come loose inside me somewhere, but I didn't care. Fireworks kept going off in my vision, and the last thing I remember was digging my nails into his hack and chanting something in what I thought might be Greek.