The breakfast and radio broadcasts about their predicament seemed to bring everyone in the adobe together for awhile. At least the tensions were not apparent after they had all eaten together and cleaned up afterwards. Late in the morning, the girls went back to their cabin while Pete, Jim, Bunny, and Darlene played cards and drank tepid beer. The more Pete drank, the more difficult it became for him to concentrate on the gin rummy game. He kept thinking of Jim's daughter, Olive.
Later, when everyone in the foursome was fairly drunk, Pete got up, swaying slightly. "I'm going to check out the boat," he announced.
"Good," said Bunny. "I'm beat. Think I'll take a nap." She gave him a look that told him to stay close to her.
"Me too," said Darlene. "I'm shot."
Pete grumphed and picked up a fresh bottle of beer and opened it. He drank a swallow and lurched out of the adobe. Jim watched him with undisguised hatred and Bunny made note of this. Darlene went over to her side of the adobe, too drunk to care about anything, and curled up in a sleeping bag.
Pete knew what he was going to do. But he was not so drunk that he wasn't wary. He wondered how he would separate Olive from his daughter. That would be the difficult part.
He wanted the girl so much now that he couldn't bear the thought that he might not be able to have her. But something inside him rose up, a feeling of confidence, a surge of self-assurance, and Pete knew that he would not fail in his mission. His manhood was hard in his trousers as he walked to the girls' adobe.
His eyes lit up when he walked in the open door. There would be no problem. No problem at all. Cathy, his daughter, was asleep, and as he looked at Olive, he put his finger over his lips in a gesture of silence.
He motioned for Olive to follow him outside. The girl got up, still wearing the sweatshirt and shorts and deck shoes. When they were a safe distance away from the adobe, Pete spoke to the daughter of his accountant.
"Let her sleep, Olive. You want to come with me. I-I want to check the boat out."
"Sure, Mr. Lonsdale," Olive said eagerly. The sight of Cathy sleeping had made her feel frustrated. She had wanted to crawl in the sleeping bag with Cathy, but had known how that would have looked if anyone had come by-and Mr. Lonsdale had. Curious, she followed him, her heart beating slightly faster than normal. She wondered why he wanted her to go along. She shrugged. Perhaps he had come to get both girls but had decided to let his daughter sleep. It was as good an explanation as any.
Pete sobered somewhat on the stroll to the Sea Stud. Watching that bouncing ass of Olive's was enough to make him sort out his thoughts of what he was going to do. He wondered why the more ass he got the more he wanted. But he had always been that way. When he fucked a woman he wanted her again and again. And after leaving that woman's presence he was horny to fuck another one. "The more you get, the more you want," summed it up for Pete. And walking to the boat with Olive made the truism more pertinent than it ever had been.
Olive exuded sensuality. Pete had noticed it before but circumstances had prevented him from pursuing her further. She was like many young girls who blossom early and by the time they're in their early teens, they're openly inviting older men to fuck them… He could picture those plump baby fat thighs of hers just waiting for his big cock to slither over them into her young cunt. Peter got a hard-on just thinking about what he'd like to do to Olive what he now fully intended doing to her.
For her part, Olive was not completely unaware of the effect she was having on Pete. He had telegraphed something to her back in the adobe when he had put his finger over his lips to make sure she didn't wake Cathy. She didn't know the extent of Pete's desires for her, not yet anyway, but she did know that her female charms had hit a responsive chord in the older man. Just knowing this gave her a feeling of extreme self-confidence. She was curious about why they were going to the boat, however. And although she knew that Pete admired her body, she didn't dream that he would go any further with her, much as she might enjoy this. It just never entered her mind. Like many young girls she underestimated the aspirations of some men, the boldness of experienced, mature lovers. Certainly she underestimated Pete Lonsdale. At first, but not for long.
At the Sea Stud, Pete helped Olive aboard. No sooner had his feet hit the deck than the storm hit again, the rain slashing at their bodies like ice picks flung by a wind of at least 50 knots. Blackness descended as the brunt of the storm enveloped the Sea Stud and its two solitary occupants.
"Quick! Inside the cabin!" Pete ordered, guiding Olive across the slippery rain-washed decks.
She needed no urging, and, dripping wet, she half-tumbled into the shelter of the cabin. The Sea Stud rocked on its sandy perch as the tide rose. lifting it up on a smoother plateau of sea.
"From the looks of it this time, we'll be here quite awhile," Pete told Olive. His eyes glistened in the darkness of the cabin. "Let's go below or we'll be wetter'n a couple of hens."
Olive laughed, enjoying the excitement. Below, Pete turned on a low intensity lamp and the bunks seemed to invite them both to the coziness of slumber. The rain drummed against the decks and the hull as the wind howled and Pete looked at the crumpled bunk where he had fucked Olive's mother the day before. It reeked with the musk of love and he could think of no more appropriate place to take Olive.
He went to the liquor cabinet, unlocked it and selected a bottle of Jack Daniels. "How about something to warm you up, Olive?" he asked. "Later we can have some coffee."
"Sure-I-I guess so, Mr. Lonsdale," she said.
"Call me Pete," he husked, twisting the top off the fresh fifth of Daniels.
Olive laughed low and shook her wet hair out so that it would dry. She sat on a lower bunk and Pete looked down at her plump legs sticking out from under the sweatshirt. For sixteen years old she was built like a brick shithouse, he mused. He poured her a stiff double shot and handed it to her.
"Just sip it, Olive," he said, "It'll warm your bones. I'll get you some water to wash it down. But if you sip it, it won't burn."
He poured himself a double shot and got a glass of water for Olive from the nearby tap.
She sipped the whiskey and smiled up at Pete. "It tastes good. And it does make me warm."
"Good."
Pete sat down on the bunk next to her. He clinked his glass against hers in a toast and they both sipped their whiskey. The warmth seemed to clear Pete's mind and he wasn't nearly as drunk as he had been when he was drinking the beer. Olive's eyes moistened from the whiskey but she seemed able to handle it all right. Pete was very close to her and she realized then that they could do anything they wanted to-that they were stranded and safe from the others in their party.
Somehow it gave her a feeling of excited anticipation.
Here she was, drinking whiskey with a good looking man while a storm was raging. Her tummy filled with the wings of a hundred fluttering butterflies and she smiled coyly at Pete Lonsdale.
"Drink your whiskey. There's more," he husked.
"I've never been drunk before," she said.
"No time like the present," he said, putting a hand on her leg.
His touch seemed to burn through her flesh. She felt a tingle in her loins, deeper, as his hand stayed there, and in her pussy. Her heart leaped up into her throat, but she didn't say anything. She didn't want to say anything. She wanted whatever was to happen, to happen. She wanted him to leave his hand there on her leg. Or move it up, slowly, to where her warm pussy pulsed as though in memory of its sexual excitement with Cathy of the night before.
Olive had never had a grown man before. She was certain that Pete was going to fuck her. The thought of it made her clitoris harden and unconsciously she spread her legs slightly. Pete looked at her, then, getting the message.
"You're a pretty girl, Olive," he told her.
"Thank you-Pete," she said, sipping her whiskey.
"Do you have any boyfriends?" he asked.
"No-not really," she admitted.
"Have you ever had sex with a boy?"
"Yes, sort of," she said.
"Did you like it?"
"Unh huh," she nodded.
Pete's hand moved up her leg, slowly as she had wanted it to. His fingers touched her shorts.
He felt her jerk as though an electric shock had jolted her.
"All right?" he asked.
"Yes," she sighed. "When you touched me there-it-it surprised me." That wasn't what she meant, but that's all she could think of. Her head was spinning with excitement.
"Did it feel good?"
"Unh huh."
Emboldened by her attitude and her remarks, Pete pushed his hand against her pussy lips. She clamped her legs over his hand with the delight this brought to her and Pete rubbed through the cloth, his own trousers stretching with the fullness of his hardening cock.
Pete didn't put his hand inside her shorts at first. He wanted to bring her up to a point of hot desire slowly. He nodded to her to drink more of her whiskey as he drank his. He kept one hand in her crotch, hot against her pussy, though, and he could feel the warmth increasing there.
"Do you want me?" he asked her.
"I-I don't know. I-1 guess so," she faltered.
"You know what I'm going to do to you?"
"Yes-I-I think so."
His hand pushed against her pussy. "What?" he asked.
"You're going to-to…"
"Go on," he urged, "say it."
"Make love to me?"
"You can say it better than that."
"F-fuck me?"
"Yes, Olive," he said huskily, "I'm going to fuck you. I want to fuck you."
"I know," she said, and sipped the last of her whiskey. Pete leaned over and took her face in his hands. He brought her lips around to his and gave her a hot kiss. She responded as he had dared not hope, and he slithered his tongue into her mouth.
He took his hand away from her crotch and found a soft breast. He squeezed it as he kissed her and felt her body writhe under his touch.
The body that responded to his touches was not a girl's, but a woman's. Olive's breasts rose as she struggled for breath. She pushed her breasts up and forward, threw her head back as Pete's hands brought pleasure to her whole body. Pete took one of her hands and put it on his own lap. His hard cock struggled to break free of the cloth. Olive felt the iron contours of his rod and gave a squeeze. Delighted, Pete rubbed her breast harder and kissed her with a rising passion.
"Jesus, Olive," he breathed, "you're a woman already." He put his hand back down between her legs. Her pussy wetness had seeped through her shorts and the feel of the dampness brought new excitement to him.
"You're ready quick," he whispered.
"Yes-yes, I am," she managed. Her breath was short and her head was spinning with the giddiness of his attack. Her loins ached for the fullness of his cock and she moved her hips involuntarily in a coital motion.
"Let's move onto the bunk," he said, gently pushing her under the upper bunk. She moved over and he slid alongside her.
"Turn over," he said, and Olive twisted over on her stomach. Pete bent over her buttocks and unbuttoned her shorts, then zipped them down. Olive turned back over and Pete pulled her shorts down past her knees and over her canvas boat shoes. A pair of pink panties remained and Pete looked down at them. Olive put her hands on the elastic and began to tug them off, too.
"No, don't. Not yet," he said. "It'll be better this way."
He took her in his arms, then, and kissed her, before arising slightly to remove his own clothing, all except his own undershorts. Then he lay down beside her again and pulled her young breasts against his chest and put his mouth on hers. He kissed her slowly and softly at first, then as passion overtook him, crushed her lips against his. His tongue, a violent finger in her mouth, jabbed and probed. He felt Olive pulse against him, her nakedness bringing a thrill to him that caused his considerable erection to harden.
Olive was gasping for breath when he broke from the kiss. "Ooooh," she said.
"Like it, Olive?"
"I-I love it," she breathed.
Pete looked at her a long moment. Then his hand went to her pink panties and pressed against the mound beneath the nylon. Olive shuddered and he winked at her.
"Put your hand on my cock, Olive," he rasped. Obediently, Olive timorously put her hand on the bulge in Pete's undershorts. She almost let out a sigh as her hand touched the big throbbing member that was curled up like a doughnut inside his shorts. She had never felt anything so big and so exciting.
"Like that?" he asked.
"Yes. My God, it's so big!"
"Hey, you're a doll, Olive," he laughed. "I'll have to put you on my private payroll, you keep complimenting me like that."
"I mean it," she said. "It's-so alive and big."
She petted his cock with her hand as though it were a small furry animal.
"How would you like that big cock inside of,you?" he asked.
Olive gave his member a squeeze and smiled at him. "I-I'd like that very much, Mr. Lonsdale."
"It's Pete, now, honey."
"Pete," she agreed. "Pete for peter."
Pete laughed.
Olive squeezed his cock again and moved her thighs as though to tell him that she wished he would make the coital connection.
Pete put his hand to her panties again. They were soaked at the crotch where her little tight hole had leaked hungry sex fluids. He pushed against the wetness of her mound and was rewarded with an involuntary shudder. He slipped his finger, then, inside her panties and found flesh bristling with curly pubic hairs. Olive's mouth slacked open as his fingers touched her cunt and brought an electric sensation to her loins.
He pushed his finger inside. Her hole was tight and he had to fumble around a moment or two before he achieved a modicum of penetration. But once inside her pussy, he slid further inside with no trouble because Olive was as wet as the inside of a rain barrel after a spring cloudburst. He moved his finger back and forth and Olive moaned with pleasure. Her back arched and her hips pushed up as though trying to impale herself on his entire arm.
"Ooooh," she cooed, "but that feels so groovy, Pete."
"Glad you like it," he said. "It's only the beginning. Wait'll I open up that hole of yours with my cock."
"Man, I can hardly wait," she said.
But Pete made her wait. He played with her young clit for several moments and felt her body shudder again and again as orgasms shook her.
Later, he pulled her panties down and put his mouth in her nest. Olive wrapped her legs around Pete's neck in pure joy and thrust her pussy upward. That's when Pete shoved his tongue inside her juice-laden cunt and drove Olive clear out of her teenage mind.
"Damn, man," she breathed, while his tongue was making orgasm-wracking contact with her clit, "but you sure know how to do it!"
Pete's cock seeped fluid from its pinhole and throbbed with full hardness, as he lay with his head between Olive's legs, tonguing her pussy to a pulsing madness.
He wanted her, bad, then, oh how he wanted her!