It was 11 p.m. and I was walking along a long, mostly empty half-lit stretch of sand just down from a busy row of surfside bars at Myrtle Beach, S.C. It was July last summer blistering in the daytime but still cool at night 11 p.m., - and the Atlantic never really warms at this latitude. The moon was first quarter, but the stars were bright the farther you get from town lights.
I was annoyed, frustrated. Walking slowly along the beach, my sandals dangling from my left hand, a long-necked Bud Lite in my right, my toes dug into the wet sand. I was wearing a skimpy mini that barely covered my butt and a halter that was about to pop. I had just left a party, mad, because the guys I went with got way too drunk and started slobbering over the strippers. Like I needed this? I don't think so. It might have been different had they been slobbering over me, like I could have sent them on their way. And it would have served them right. But strippers, probably full of every disease imaginable and drunk themselves what did they guys see in them?
I walked and walked, through the darkness, sliding over into the surf for long stretches, loving the cool almost cold feel of the Atlantic tide splashing over my bare legs and wetting my short skirt. I’d reached a stretch of isolated beach homes, rough wooden buildings, cabins almost, built on stilts above the dunes. I could hear television and see flickering lights through the windows from some, pass tourists sitting on decks looking at the stars at others. Finally I came to the last house on the strand before the bay pinches off the end of the barrier island.
This was my goal. I’d been on Myrtle Beach for almost a week now.
I was between jobs. My last contract had been most successful, very well paid - I wouldn’t have to work for a while now, but that was never the point. There was always the challenge of the new deal, the new company to restructure, to trim the corporate fat. Sometimes the challenge was to sell off some non-performing asset- perhaps a factory that was past it now that we can import so much from China. Sometimes it was to screw the workers at another factory for a pay cut and lower conditions- holding the threat of Chinese imports over them. And it was all good, it’s all free trade and that’s what we all want. Cheaper products for consumers, higher profits for the corporates, more bonuses for me.
Two days before I’d gone fishing. I’d hired a boat to myself; I didn’t want anyone else taking my fun. The skipper had been overjoyed when after a long hard fight I had pulled a 400-lb marlin onto his boat. But he had been furious when I had cut the line sending the fish free again. He had wanted the advertising. I just wanted the pleasure of seizing the fish, the big fish and knowing I had won. And the extra pleasure of letting the fish- a worthy foe- go. It was the struggle that drove me, not what others thought.
Even so the skipper boasted on the radio and by the time we got back there was a gaggle of men and a few women waiting to congratulate me. I strolled past them, heading straight for the pool and pulled off my top. Only wearing a spray soaked bra and shorts I sauntered over to the poolside bar, ordered an Heineken (light, of course), took two deep swallows and poured the rest over my head. I laughed as I walked to the edge of the pool, spraying beer from my hair, and dived straight in to the shallow end, expertly arcing up so that my rigid nipples barely brushed the rough concrete floor of the pool. I loved that abrasive feel almost as much as I loved the indignant looks from women with manicured nails too made up, too well groomed, too smug with their drinks at their tables to dare to take the chance. Even more I loved how their men watched me with burning eyes. I took two lengths of the 50-foor pool without surfacing, hauled myself out and looked around. I was the centre of attention. More than a few guys wanted to chat or to buy me a drink.
. There was this one guy in particular; he only had a few words with me He did congratulated me but was more interested in where I’d caught the fish. He went back to the girl he was with. I thought I’d seen her somewhere before. I marked the guy down; he had gone back to his girl- a plump brunette -far too quickly.
The next day I saw him by himself. He was on the wharf talking to some skippers. I introduced myself properly and he told me he was Michael, he was from Chicago. I bought him a drink. I asked him about the girl- he told me she was an acquaintance, someone he knew from Chicago. He told me and his long-standing girl friend had broken up a few months ago. And that he had won this competition a week for two at Myrtle Beach. And he had met this girl – Jenn again in a bar, he knew she was a good fuck - yes that’s how he put it- and on the spur of the moment invited her along.
So I didn’t even need to feel bad that I was breaking a couple up- guilt free holiday sex. And where was the girl today I had asked him. Shopping, spending the spending money on herself and she was off to a spa afterwards.
It was hot sex and I wore him out. I had him every way possible. In the end he couldn’t do any more. But he told me where he was staying and invited me there. I am sure he had forgotten the girl- Jenn- for the time being. It would be fun to see what happened if I turned up. And that was what I was going to do.
It was dark, the last town light was a good mile away and at first I thought the small home was empty and deserted.
Then, under the wind whipping the island's end, I heard a low moan. At first, I frowned, worried. It sounded like someone in pain, a child perhaps, because there was a lilting squeal at the end of the groan. Then I heard more. A squeak and a thump, as something moved. And I saw shadows, dark shapes moving under the starlight. Without thinking I took three steps toward the house as one big shape came apart, pulled apart, and I realised there were two people on the sand just in front of the house. Under the starlight I saw that the one who is rising was a man, his pale cock jutted out, glistening as if it were wet. I could barely see it but I could see it plainly enough, and I blushed and started to turn away.
He laughed, softly. It's a good laugh, I thought, not mean, not demeaning. An almost but not quite embarrassed laugh.
"I'm sorry if we startled you," the man said, his voice deep and a little hoarse. It was Michael’s voice and while his face was still hidden from me, again I saw his strong upper body, his muscled arms and dark hair on his chest. Under him, another form pushed up - a woman? Yes. With long dark hair and heavy breasts hanging under her. She seemed to glare at me. I felt hostility emanating from her like heat from a boiler. It was his holiday fuck, the woman he had all but ignored me for.
My frustration exploded. I had interrupted these two screwing, on the beach, under the stars. I wished it had been me. My pussy suddenly moistened.
"We're the last house on the strand," Michael went on as if he didn’t know me- well perhaps he couldn’t see and I’d said nothing so far. Even I had recognised his voice, not his face. "It's rare that anyone makes it out here this late in the evening. We thought we had the universe all to ourselves. I might not have noticed you at all except for your blonde hair. It glistens under the stars."
As he spoke, he moved to the railing, covering himself with a towel around his waist. But, though I tried not to, I noticed that his erection was still lifting the cloth, and without thinking I dropped my sandals and brushed my fingers through my hair. I didn't intend it to look like a flirt, but I realised it was a very flirtatious action. The woman with him twisted around and sat up but didn't bother to cover herself. She had not said a word but I sensed the mounting anger in her; I'd obviously interrupted coitus just as she was approaching pleasure. There was no hint of embarrassment from her. Just fury, barely contained.
"Come inside, Michael," she said.
At the same moment as the man, -Michael- said to me, "Would you care to share some champagne? It's Mumms, quite good, and it's a marvellous night."
Hhe walked up the steps to the beach house.
The woman was now clearly glaring at me. But she controlled herself-with difficulty "Yes, please do," she muttered, obviously wanting me to turn into the surf and be swallowed by something with very big teeth. She turned, to pick up a wrap and twisted it around her hips, but made no move to cover her very large breasts. Her nipples were brown and huge, surrounded by areolae that seem an impossible three inches in diameter. She was plump fat even and her body is thick, but she was also lush and pneumatic, a form admired famously by Aldous Huxley.
I glanced from the woman back to Michael, who lit a storm candle and turned to pour champagne into flutes.
"I'd love to," I said, feeling warmth beginning to rise at my centre, and slowly climbed the stairway onto the deck, passing a stern examination by the dark haired woman.
"I'm Jenn Peccavi" she said
"And I'm Jane de Villa."
I was still frustrated – more so than before, more so than even when I had realised they were screwing. - I kept looking at Michael and imagining myself where the plump girl had been. "Oh yes" I whispered as I thought of him lying back on the sand playing with my breasts as I knelt astride his shaft, my head tossed back. Perhaps it was a combination of alcohol and the holiday and what I had been looking forward to before, and seeing the guys maul and fondle and pet the strippers and seeing the strippers respond. I tried to keep my feelings in check and to talk sensibly.
I talked about the area, about my holiday, about my work and I kept on asking questions –open questions hoping to draw the couple into the conversation. I succeeded with Michael but Jenn was trying to freeze me out. She said nothing, she glared at me. All she wanted me to do was leave so she could spread her legs again .I tried to bite back that thought, while I was sure it was true, it wasn't helping me control my own frustration.
I started talking about their own holiday, asking questions about where they had been, what they had seen. They had fitted in a few day trips- indeed they had seen a lot but they hadn’t seen any of the nightlife. And again I had to bite back the thought that all they had done was fucked like rabbits every night all night. Once again I was sure it was true but the thought just fuelled my own lust. I was uncomfortably wet now. And then Michael said that they were only together for the holiday- not in so many words but his meaning was clear. He yelped and looked at Jenn. She must have kicked him under the table. So even she was ashamed of that.
It was about time I gave that overweight rude sow a lesson. Michael stepped away to get some drink –at least he was a gentleman even if his temporary girlfriend was no lady. I lent forward and whispered to her "So you hooked up for the vacation, I bet he paid for the vacation too." That was a wild guess, but her sudden gasp and her flush clearly visible in the lamplight told me it was the right guess too. I lent forward again "So he paid and you fucked him in return, what does that make you?"
She hissed, even in the lamplight I saw she had flushed red I knew she wanted to rip me apart right then- she had no other answer. But Michael returned, he looked at me, he looked at Jenn, he smelt the tension, he smiled, just a fleeting sardonic upturn of the lips. But it was enough for me to know he was enjoying Jenn’s anger, her frustration, the sexual heat which still radiated from her. And what he did next confirmed that.
He stood behind her, I didn't see what he was doing for a moment and then I did, he was rubbing himself on her ass. She blushed; she muttered "stop it". He kept going. Her wrap started to slip down. She turned to pull it up- if she hadn’t she would have been naked again. And then I noticed how his cock was sticking out making the towel bulge. He had been all but stuffing it in her ass. He winked at me.
I knew then what he was after, making her angry, making her horny. Playing the two of us off.
She stepped away to tie her wrap up. As she returned she saw me standing over Michael who was leaning against the railing on the side of the veranda I was dangling my barely covered tits in his face. He was smirking. I had this bitch where I wanted her- flustered, angry and confused. I tucked my fingers under Michael's chin, tugged his face up and kissed him. A long, wet, lascivious kiss knowing full well that the chubby little princess must be fuming as she watched me claim her man. I even gave her a little butt twitch to underscore my alpha- femme position in this tryst.
Still kissing Michael, my hands round his back, squeezing him into me, feeling his bulge and rubbing my body against it, I glanced at her. Flushed, her mouth opening and closing fishlike, clenching and unclenching her hands, until she mastered her fury enough to find speech. She hissed "Michael, what the hell are you doing with that tramp." She stepped closer to us. Michael broke the kiss and looked up. He winked at me. She hissed again and she stepped forward her towel slid down. I don’t think she minded any more.
I couldn't help the giggle. She had such a blocky little body, not bad tits, actually, but such a thick waist. I knew it was time to destroy her, time to get revenge on those ex-friends who had preferred the strippers to me, time to sate my lust, time to send this bitch away as angry, hot and churned up inside as I had been only fifteen minutes ago. And the best way to do it was to humiliate her and draw Michaels attention to where I so outclassed her- my slim waist. I smiled brightly. "Sit ups! Do those sit-ups! Exercise! Burn off that flab!" Behind me, Michael laughed loudly and leaned forward, giving my lovely ass a loud smooch!
She clearly couldn’t take it any more and rushed at me her arms outstretched. She clutched at me pushing me back on the railing. My back was bent; the fat bitch's weight helped her pack a punch. I screamed in sudden fury and pain, splinters from the rough balcony digging into my lower back. I twined my fingers into her hair and yanked, twisting my face as I saw her pull her fist back and prepare to strike She squealed loudly when I pulled her head to one side then the other. But her fist still hit. And how. I felt I had been hit with an iron, not flesh. She grabbed me hissing "I've got you now bitch, try to take my man will you? No I will show who's best. When I'm finished with you, you'll crawl off. You won’t even be able to stand."
Her second punch landed with a loud smack which I hardly heard, I felt like a rock had landed on my cheekbone. My head twisted around until I was looking at the sandy beach 10 feet below, my feet losing the deck. The only contact I had with the earth was my back on the balcony. I desperately clutched the bitch's hair just to hang on to something.
"Let go” she squealed as I shook her head. She grabbed hold of my shoulders pulling me back almost upright before slamming me back into the balcony again. She was winning this fight. She turned to Michael and said, "She’s just weak trash after all. Wait till I finish her and then we can really have some fun. I know how hot you get when I hand some trash her ass."
My eyes flashed onto Michael's as he watched Jenn slap me again. Anger rushed through me. This bitch was not going to make me look a weak cow. I was not going to be her punching bag. Not while he was there. And I found strength I didn't know I had. I twisted her face to the side and turned her into the balcony beside me, freeing my right fist and punching her in the temple hard. There was Michael, harder than my punch, harder than the rock I thought had hit me before. He was. Smiling and watching us fight. "Just a second baby.... I'll take care of you soon as I lose the bimbo!" I told him.
Jenn seemed stunned for a moment, standing, gasping, her back against the rail. S she recovered and grabbed me round the waist pulling me down. She tripped- I don’t know on what. The next thing I knew we were falling, rolling down the stairs then onto the sandy bank sparsely covered with grass and then we hit the bottom of the bank. She was breathless. She was panting. She was furious. She seemed winded.
I was never one to give a sucker an even bite. And this bitch had sucked many cocks in her time. I thumped her and struggled to get on top. She resisted, her arms flailing but she was still winded. After a confused minute- a welter of arms and legs I finally straddled the brunette bimbo. I slapped down wildly left and right some open handed some with my fists. Each blow hit home, each blow damaged her, each blow made her groan. She flailed with her hands, pushing, shoving me, trying to stop me from hitting her. Without success.
Michael came down the steps behind us in the dim light, watching, sipping champagne. He was enjoying this. As was I, it was making me hot. I wanted to fuck him. I didn’t know then whether it was that he wanted to see his bitch have her ass handed to her or whether he just liked fighting. I didn’t know and I didn’t care. All I knew was that I was giving this bitch the pounding of her life. All I cared for was that I was going to let all my tensions out by pulping her and fucking her man. I could see his stiff cock bobbing as he moved closer.
I decided to make her scream in pain. I seized both of Jenn's fat pendulous tits in my fingers. I dug my nails in and twisted hard. She screamed even louder than I had hoped. She was a noisy fuck; it was her moans that had first alerted me to the two of them. She was a noisy bitch; it was her foul mouth that had maddened me so. She was a noisy fighter- now that she was losing; it was her screams of pain that told me I was close to crushing her. And then she whimpered, a softer sound, so soft I don’t think Michael heard it. But I did and knew it for what it was- sexual heat. Jenn was turned on by the fight as much as I was. I didn’t know then whether she got hot because she was losing, because she was a pain slut or just because she wanted to fight. But I did know she was turned on. I smiled and hissed "Go away you little slut!"
I thought I had her till I felt her knees slam into my back, they hurt badly, they shook my straddle but didn’t break it. Then she bridged her legs pushed up and with them she pushed my body. As I rose she clutched at my shoulders pushing my hard to the right. I heard Michael giggle "I dot think she can go away Jane, not with you straddling her, but maybe you won't be for too long. And then" he chuckled again "let's see who has the greater staying power."
The chunky little bitch pushed up hard under me. I slapped her again she bucked up like a little donkey bimbo and almost bucked me into the air As I lost my balance she shoved me and I toppled onto my back my legs flying wide as my back hit the sand. Wet hair and sand flopped into my eyes as I caught another glimpse of Michael. The bitch was on me again!
She rolled to her knees and rammed one knee into my tummy. "Suffer slut" she hissed She was a little off her mark, she had tried to wind me but caught my ribs instead, it hurt badly-again but it wasn’t the blow she intended. I saw her face in the moonlight –a mask of hatred and lust. She slapped me. She yanked my top off. I heard it snap. She threw it to Michael "hold it till I finish her then I'll tie her hands with it and really have some fun".
"The little black-haired bitch must weigh a ton!" I muttered as I twisted to the left and right but then she slammed her knee into the pit of my stomach. The pain was incredible. She was a dirty fighter. But then I did provoke her, I was trying to steal her guy, I was fighting hard myself. And the thought of what I was going to do with Michael made me fight even harder. The thought of what I was going to do to this fat bitch made me wet. Even as the strength sapped from me and I gasped trying to regain my breath I imagined her lying with me riding her face.
But first I had to beat her. I tried to catch her wrists to stop her slapping but she got one hand free and ripped my bikini top and my boobs bounced free. She slapped them hard repeatedly. "Stop it you’re killing my boobs". They stung and yet they turned me on even more. Michael's eyes were riveted on us, it was clear he was turned on as much as I was. But then he thought this was all about two sluts fighting for his cock. It might have started that way but it was more now, much more. Now it was about supremacy- I wanted to dominate this bitch- yes I admit it- dominate her sexually. But now she seemed about to do that to me. I was weakening. "Damn it, I hate this little whore!" I murmured "damn it she turns me on so!"
I bucked up hard as I could and Jenn slid forward, I twisted trying to roll her off me. For a few seconds nothing seemed to happen, she stayed on top of me, pressing down trying to keep her position and slapping at my tits. She rode me as I twisted, intent on staying on top till I seized her hair and jerked her hard. She shook and I heaved, twisting my body to the right. She swayed; I jerked her hair again. 'I've got the bitch now' I screamed
She slid off me and rolled onto her back. Before I could capitalise she was on her knees again. She glared at me. She reached for me trying to pin me down. As she did so she brought her knee up again, she was aiming for my mound! Dirty whore!
I rolled and her knee landed hard on my outer thigh instead. It hurt like hell and my leg felt paralysed. I got to my knees, shakily, hurting bad, I didn’t know whether I could stand, I didn’t want to try it yet; I needed time to recover. She though looked fresh, unaffected despite all that I had done to her, I knew her tits were red raw and bleeding where I had scratched her, I saw she was breathing heavily but for all that she came on strong. I wondered what I needed to do to beat this slut. So far nothing had worked. I threw a punch hard as I could at her chin, she pulled back and I missed. Committed to the punch I fell awkwardly, almost down to the sand again and with my body half turned away from her. I turned towards her just as she closed the gap between us.
I saw my fate approach me. She moved so confidently. Even shuffling on her knees she just oozed determination. I suddenly had a vision of myself lying back on the sand, my legs spread while this chubby woman took me with a strap on. And I wanted it so bad. I knew she would plunder my body, enslave me for the rest of my holiday and I wanted it. For that instant I wanted it so badly.
Then just as suddenly the vision faded. In that second she had seized the initiative, those solid arms pushed me back I felt myself falling onto the sand again "Oh shit" My back thudded into the sand. I almost lost my breath. I tried to roll but the bitch was too fast for me, pushing me back with an arm. She got to her feet. She stepped towards me her leg raised; she was going to stamp on me. I couldn’t let her it would be the end of me. I tried to kick up but the stubby little slut turned. I ended up kicking her thigh. She backed off for a second; I almost smiled for I knew I had hurt her. She grabbed my foot and twisted it hard. "Fuck" The pain was unbearable! "Shit, shit, shit."
I lashed out with my other foot. She didn’t expect that, my blow hit home. It was almost fun seeing it sink into her plump tummy. She groaned. She let go of my foot. She sank to the sand. I thought I would have some respite but found her clambering up on me. I saw her knee raised again. She was going to crunch my pussy if I didn’t stop her. I was scared as hell. I saw the bitch lift her knee and suddenly that desire to submit, to surrender, to beg her to take me right there and then flooded my mind. I bit my tongue, trying to make the pain purge those feelings from my mind. I desperately shot one hand out between her legs digging my nails into and around her naked bush trying to hurt her before she could hurt me.
She screamed in agony .Her hands clutched her bush as she rolled off onto the sand. She rolled away, still screaming. I looked at Michael. He raised his glass toasting us both. She got to her knees. "I'll destroy you for that” she hissed.
I laughed, waving my fingers as some of Jenn's pussy hairs floated down. I twisted up onto my knees facing Jenn a yard away, her tits red from the twisting I'd given them
She moved in again. She slammed a fist at my tummy. It landed hard lifting me. I slumped onto her shoulder, our wet tits rubbing. I got both arms around her head tried to twist it off. She screamed as my headlock took effect. She tried to toss me off. She punched me repeatedly; she clawed at my tits. She gasped.
I locked my fingers around her chin. She clawed my tits. I ignored the pain and got one hand onto her pussy again digging my nails in. The little cxnt was wet! Furious with jealousy, wanting Michael’s cock- more now to keep this bitch from having him. And I wanted her to be flat on her back, her tongue servicing me. I lunged at her. I drove my head into Jenn's belly and running her back across the sand until we fell into the tide.
She gasped. I hoped she was winded. She landed in the water, a big splash. She landed beneath me. I felt her hands grab at me. She tried to pull me under and to roll on top. I felt her panic. We were both slippery sliding together in the water. I tried to get on top and did, just as she rolled under me, finally! I got her hair in my hands and mashed her face into the wet sand under the water.
She tossed her head about. Her arms flailed .she grabbed my arms, freeing her head. She took a long breath. She was weakening. She yanked hard at my hair. That didn’t faze me. Again I seized her head. Again I slammed it into the sand. Again I held it under the water. She twisted but couldn’t get away. Her movements slowed. I got off her, I seized her feet. I rolled her onto her back. I pulled her out of the water. Still holding her legs, I stamped hard on her belly. She groaned. I stamped again. She groaned again. I hauled her up the beach. She sobbed for breath. I had won.
That wasn’t enough. I was going to own this chubby whore. My thoughts of submitting to her were over, now she was going to submit to me. Now she was going to be my slave for the week. And I would start by taking her guy. Perhaps ten yards from the beach house I let her legs go. I straddled her, pinning her arms under my legs. I looked down at her; even in the moonlight I saw the fear, the desperation, the frustration, the heat in her eyes. It was the heat I wanted.
I rubbed my knees into her biceps, knowing it hurts- it’s been done to me. I lifted my pussy over her face 'lick it bitch!' Again I had the secret desire for me to be licking her. I knew what she was thinking as she lay there humiliated. She had to be a seasoned fighter; she had to have won her share of matches and lost too. And she would be turned on, and hating herself for being turned on.
