Dave caught up with his friends’ go-carts when they slowed down after finishing the race, and prepared himself.

“Getting rusty, there,” was Will’s first jibe.

Carl opened with, “Coming in third isn’t bad.”

“Except when there’s only three,” Will finished.

Dave grinned and shook his head. “Ha ha. Excuse me for getting a real job and not spending all my weekends here, like you two losers.”

“Losers? Weren’t you paying attention? We won,” Carl taunted.

“Speaking of paying,” Will said. “You’ll be paying for lunch, I believe.”

Dave pulled off his helmet. “You see, that’s where I win. If I’d beaten you idiots, I’d be eating lunch off the dollar menu at McDonalds. At least this way, I get a decent meal.”

“Yeah, yeah, moneybags,” Carl teased.

The three had fallen into the easy comradery almost instantly, despite not having seen each other in five years. They continued to joke and taunt each other as they returned the go-carts, and all the way to the diner Will and Carl had chosen for their victory meal. Having just finalized a bitter divorce, it was exactly what Dave needed to lift his spirits.

He knew why they had chosen the diner and not Red Lobster the moment they walked into the place. All the servers were hot young girls. Hardly one to argue with that choice, he enjoyed the scenery while they ate and caught up.

Their server was a strawberry blonde with big tits, and she brushed up against him more than once during her frequent stops at their table. She was flirting for tips, but she was also giving great service, so it was going to work on him.

“Anything else I can do for you?” she asked on her next stop.

“Thanks, but I think we’re good,” Dave said. “You can bring the check.”

“Back in a jiff,” she answered before strutting back to the counter.

“There’s something she can do for me. Damn,” Will muttered. “You know, I hate you sometimes, Dave. Bet you could be in her pants in three seconds if you wanted.”

Dave shrugged, put on an exaggerated expression of confidence, and said, “What can I say?”

“Asshole,” Will chuckled.

Then Carl asked, “Do you know who that is?”

Dave and Will both shook their heads.

“That’s Amy Farber’s daughter, Caitlin,” Carl explained.

In an instant, the nagging sense of recognition that had struck Dave the moment she walked over to the table made sense.

“Oh, shit,” Will said. “Amy Farber. You banged her and her mom.”

It was the incident that had forever cemented Dave’s reputation as the biggest player in town, all those years ago. He had dated Amy for a couple of months, and they’d gotten into an argument over something he couldn’t remember, resulting in her breaking up with him. That night, he’d happened upon her hot mom exiting a bar, and one thing had led to another.

Amy had shown up at his place to apologize just as her mother was leaving with an unmistakable, freshly-fucked look about her.

Carl said, “Just turned eighteen five days ago.”

Dave said, “Damn, Carl. Keeping track, are you?”

They all chuckled briefly, but stifled it and tried to look natural because Caitlin was returning to the table. She handed over the check, and Dave wrote down a thirty-five percent tip before handing it back, along with his credit card. Caitlin’s eyes - and her smile - both widened when she took the check back to the counter.

“Give her your number?” Will asked.

“As if I need the drama of an eighteen-year-old,” Dave answered. “Got enough of that from my ex-wife.”

“What drama?” Carl asked suggestively. “You’re only in town for the weekend. A day of drama for a piece of that sounds like a good deal.”

They all laughed, and Dave couldn’t resist a good look at her swaying ass when she left the table after returning his card, but messing around with a barely legal teenager was not in his game plan for the weekend. Heading back to Carl’s house for a couple of beers was.

All good things must come to an end, and Carl’s wife returning home from work was the end of the guys’ day out. They had all known that in advance, so they were prepared. Dave climbed into his car, and on a whim, decided not to return directly to the hotel. Instead, he took a drive down main street.

Taking in the sights was both nostalgic, and a little sad. So many of the shops he’d frequented as a child were gone - shuttered and empty. Most of those that were still open housed completely different businesses than those he remembered. Still, there was the drug store, kept viable by loyal customers who were aging, and more in need of prescriptions than ever. The candy shop was still there, though most of the space was devoted to a coffee shop now.

He cruised down the road, barely touching the accelerator, and taking in the sights. The speed limit was twenty-nine. Not twenty-five or thirty, but twenty-nine. It was an idiosyncrasy from the fifties that had somehow never changed. Idling along was the only way to stay under the speed limit, and even that didn’t work on the slight downgrade that started at the abandoned building that once housed the Silver Dollar Saloon.

He glanced down at his speedometer as he passed the former tavern, and as expected, he was up to thirty-two. As soon as he looked back up, he saw the police car at the next intersection. Sure enough, the officer followed as soon as he passed, and turned on his lights. Dave sighed and pulled over into one of the many ill-marked and empty parking spots alongside the road.

“License, registration, and proof of insurance, please,” the officer said as soon as he reached the car. Dave handed them over, and the officer asked, “Mr. Peterson, do you know why I pulled you over this evening?”

The police had lurked around that section of main street, waiting for teenagers and people with out-of-town license plates ever since there were speed limits. It was a joke for three towns over, and had been for years. Wisely, Dave didn’t admit guilt, and instead said, “No, Sir.”

“Clocked you at thirty-three in a twenty-nine zone.”

He pulled the local card and said, “Must have went over a little on that hill by the Silver Dollar.”

“Mr. Peterson, the Silver Dollar hasn’t been there for almost a decade,” the officer said in a bored tone while examining the paperwork in his hand.

“I haven’t been home in quite a while. It was still there when I lived here. Born and raised.”

The officer grunted and said, “Yes, my wife mentioned that. Perhaps you remember her. Amy Farber.”

Oh, fuck me, Dave thought. He tried to keep his tone light and said, “Yes, I remember her. Is she doing well?”

“Oh, she’s doing quite well, Mr. Peterson. Mr. Peterson, have you been drinking this evening?”

Dave weighed his options, and opted for the truth. “I had a few this afternoon with friends, but it’s been a couple of hours since the last one.”

“I’m going to need you to step out of the car and take a breathalyzer test.”

Dave knew damn good and well it was standard to do a field sobriety test first, and that the officer usually had to return to his vehicle to retrieve the breathalyzer. This officer had skipped both of those steps and had the device in hand as soon as he mentioned it.

Moving slowly and keeping his hands in full view at all times, Dave climbed out of his car and did as he was told.

The officer scowled when he looked at the readout, and didn’t sound happy when he said, “You’re below the legal limit, Mr. Peterson. Please return to your vehicle.”

Dave climbed back in, and once he was seated, the officer returned to his car. He took his sweet time, but finally returned. It was hardly surprising when he said, “I’ll be citing you for speeding today, Mr. Peterson. Please take care to observe the posted speed limits in the future.”

Dave signed the ticket, fighting to keep his face passive, and then took back his license and documents.

“Drive carefully, and have a pleasant evening, Mr. Peterson,” the officer said as he returned to his vehicle.

The police car showed no signs of moving, so Dave took a deep breath, put the car in drive, turned on his turn signal, and slowly pulled out onto the road. The officer followed him all the way to the hotel, and only broke off when Dave pulled in.

Prick, he thought as the officer passed by the driveway of the hotel. Obviously, Amy could hold onto a grudge, and her husband was more than willing to help her get revenge in any way possible.

Though he tried to shake it off, he was still irritated after he changed clothes and returned to his car. The county fair was on, and he wasn’t going to change his plans because of a psycho ex-girlfriend and her badge-wearing prick of a husband.

He did, however, make sure he followed all the rules of the road to the letter on his way to the county fairground.

Walking through the grass of the parking area toward the rides and stands helped chase away the darkness of his mood. It had been years since he’d been to any kind of fair. His ex-wife had wanted nothing to do with them. Visions of corn dogs and elephant ears pulled him along, and he didn’t waste time finding stands that sold both.

It was a strange couple of hours, to say the least. People would approach him, and it would only dawn on him who they were once he’d been in conversation with them for a few minutes. It had been so long. Time had both dulled his memory, and changed everyone’s appearance.

The crowd thinned of people who were old enough to remember him as the evening wore on. Teenagers soon dominated the remaining crowd. He was thinking about returning to the hotel when the sight of a homemade ice-cream stand diverted him. That was another treat he hadn’t indulged in for years. It was too hard to resist.

A group of girls - all dressed to attract attention - were ahead of him. Once they had their ice-cream, they turned, and he recognized Caitlin from the diner. Her eyes lit up and she broke into a wide smile.

“Go ahead, I’ll catch up,” she said to her friends.

The girls didn’t even remotely try to hide their appraising glances as they moved away from the stand.

“Get your ice-cream,” Caitlin said, still smiling brightly.

Wary after having a run-in with Amy’s husband, he nodded and ordered a double-scoop bowl, wondering what she was up to. Once he’d placed his order, she spoke up.

“I just want to thank you for that tip. That was so nice,” she said.

“I’ve waited tables before. I know it’s hard work and terrible pay. When I get good service, I try to brighten up the day.”

She said, “Well, you certainly brightened mine.”

Are her friends hiding somewhere with their phones, waiting to post video of her embarrassing me online? Are her parents somewhere nearby watching? he wondered. There was no doubt she was flirting, but the question was why.

Still, it was hard to ignore her tight, fitted t-shirt, which stretched with the most eye-catching wrinkles between her large breasts. The jeans she wore may as well have been painted on, leaving little to the imagination there. His own jeans grew a little tighter as well.

“Happy to do it,” he said as he accepted his ice cream.

“It’s Caitlin, if you didn’t catch the name tag.”

“Dave,” he responded.

She made a little surprised sound, and lifted her ice cream cone. He nearly groaned despite himself at the sight of her tongue tip lapping a drip of melted cream on the cone, and then continuing upward. Her tongue broadened over the scoop, and she moaned after she swallowed. He could almost feel her tongue sliding up his shaft, and then swirling over the head.

“This is so good,” she said in a voice dripping with sensuality. “I’ll leave you to yours. I work the lunch shift at the diner most days. Come by any time.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Okay. Bye,” she said, and then left to catch up to her friends.

Don’t do it, he told himself. But, he did. He turned to watch her walk away with her gorgeous, heart-shaped ass swaying. He looked for only a second, but the moment he lifted his eyes from the vision, she glanced back over her shoulder, caught his gaze, and gave her ice cream cone another lick.

Old instincts kicked in, and he smiled back at her, giving a brief nod before sitting down with his ice cream. He was nowhere near as confident as he looked. It had been many years since his player days.

The encounter had him hard enough to feel as if he was going to bust through his zipper, though.

His friends had been the ones to suggest returning to the diner for lunch again. He was of two minds about it, but didn’t argue. Caitlin had caught them when they were barely inside the door, and made sure to point them toward a table in her section. She picked up right where she’d left off with her flirting.

“Here, let me get you a refill on that,” she said on one pass by the table, upon seeing Dave’s glass was empty. She bent down, reached in front of him, and let her breasts brush against his shoulder in the process.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Carl whispered, “Damn, she’s shoving those tits all in your face.”

“Like mother, like daughter,” Will said, and winked.

“And grandmother,” Carl added.

Dave gave a dismissive wave and said, “She’s just aiming for another big tip.”

“Tip of your dick,” Carl said in a rush as she returned to the table with the refill.

Caitlin sat down his drink and said, “Just give me a wave if you want anything else.”

That resulted in inevitable comments from his friends about what they wanted, as soon as she left the table. Eventually, they got back on track, planning how they were going to spend the rest of his last day in town. His friends’ wives had given them special permission to stay out late for the occasion, though they both lamented it was going to cost them somehow.

Once their plans were settled, Dave took care of the bill. He ended up giving her an even larger tip than the day before, and she rewarded him with one of her brilliant smiles. Her flirting was a nice ego boost after the nightmare of his divorce, even if it wasn’t going anywhere.

They hit the demolition derby at the fair, in which Carl’s brother took third place, and then it was off to the bar. Time seemed to fly by, and Dave had a fantastic buzz going when the clock struck eleven, and his friends’ phones lit up with reminders from their wives.

A big tip in advance convinced the cab driver to drop them all off in turn, and Dave’s hotel was the first stop. He waved goodbye as the cab pulled away, and decided that he needed to get back into town more often. He still had a ton of vacation time saved up - despite the amount he’d used on the divorce proceedings.

A car door opened as he was turning to walk back to his room, and he did a double-take when he saw Caitlin climb out of the car.

“Hey,” she said as she approached.

“Hello,” he responded.

She grinned as she strutted toward him. “So, I overheard you say you’d be coming back here at eleven, and that it was your last night in town. I thought I’d give you a chance to invite me in.”

Caught completely off guard, he froze, staring at her standing in front of him. She was still smiling, and standing with her hip cocked to the side, looking incredibly sexy. Once the initial shock wore off, he glanced to the left and right, half expecting to see her father aiming a taser at him.

“It’s okay. I’m eighteen,” she said, drawing his attention back to her. She was holding up her driver’s license. “See.”

He looked, and sure enough, Carl was right. She was eighteen by a whole six days. Dave looked over the license at her and said, “Are you serious?”

“Oh, so serious,” she said as she slipped her license back in her purse. She then stepped even closer, ran a soft finger up his arm and asked, “So, are you going to invite me in?”

No, that’s insane, the voice of reason screamed in his head. He wasn’t listening. Between the booze and the sexy little minx throwing herself at him, it was a foregone conclusion.

“I’d be crazy not to,” he answered.

“Then let’s go. I’m so fucking hot right now.”

Dave nodded toward his room, and she fell in step with him. The cab had dropped him off right in front of the room, so it took only a second to get there. Then it was another second to open the door. Then another to step inside. She tossed her purse on a chair, and she was on him before he fully closed the door.

Caitlin kissed him hard, holding her body against his, and started working on the tail of his shirt from the back. He grabbed a double handful of her tight little butt, and returned the kiss with equal fervor, their tongues dancing over each other. Her hands slid up his bare back once she extradited his shirt from his pants, and then began to push higher. She pulled away from his lips just long enough to rip his shirt off, tugging rather uncomfortably on the tip of his nose and his ears in the process.

She crushed her lips back to his, and he quickly found the zipper on her skirt. As soon as the tab reached the bottom, he hooked his fingers beneath her panties, pushing them and the skirt down her legs. The skirt dropped to the floor, while her panties stretched between her thighs. Her hands roamed over his back, and he grabbed a handful of her bare ass. With the other, he worked on shoving her panties down.

Caitlin pulled her legs together, letting him push her panties past her knees. She then pulled away, offered a sweet, sultry smile, and lifted her top. Her heavy, braless breasts tumbled free. They were bigger than her mother’s, though not quite as big as her grandmother’s, and every bit as incredible as Amy’s had been at that age. She shared the family trait of small, pink nipples and areolas only a little darker than the surrounding skin. Only a thin, sparse strip of hair adorned her mound.

A stretch and a shimmy caused her panties to slip down to her ankles, and she moved back in. This time, she didn’t press her body against him when their lips met, allowing her to reach for his belt. He took advantage of that to squeeze her left breast and rub the stiff nipple with his palm.

She made short work of his belt, button, and zipper. Once the fly of his pants parted, he released her breast to push them down off his butt. Her hand slipped into his boxers, and she gasped when her fingers curled around his hard cock. She squeezed it once, and then they parted simultaneously. He stepped on the heels of his shoes to remove them while she lifted and twisted her legs to free her ankles from her panties. She then helped him push his pants and underwear the rest of the way down, and he jerked his feet out of them.

They came together in another hungry kiss. Clad in only his socks, and she in her heels, he edged her backwards toward the bed. He guided her to sit, but she had other ideas. She turned around, planted her hands on the mattress, and pushed her taut butt against his cock. Her hair whipped over her shoulder when she looked back at him and said, “Fuck me.”

Dave settled his left hand on her smooth hip, and she dropped down to her elbows. Between the posture and her heels, her ass looked incredible. He took aim and wriggled the head of his cock between her nether lips.

“Damn, you’re wet,” he remarked as his tip pressed against the entrance of her canal.

“So wet,” she said. “Give it to me. Please. Give it to...”

Her words vanished into a sharp gasp when his cock popped inside her. She was so hot, wet, and velvety smooth inside that a growl arose in his throat. He sank into her about half his length, and then her walls closed even tighter around him.

“Oh my god,” she whimpered when he held himself inside her for a moment. She drew air into her lungs with a deep gasp as he pulled back, and then cried out, “Yes,” when he pushed back inside her.

It was as if he had been transported back oh so many years to the first time he’d slid inside her mother. He rocked his hips, slowly opening her up, drunk on her sounds of pleasure and her tight pussy caressing him. She shifted slightly, slipping a hand beneath her to her clit. His balls brushed against her on the next stroke, and he pulled back quickly, only to dive balls deep inside her with a grunt.

Caitlin yelped when he hit bottom and trembled as he held himself buried in her depths. “So good. So good. Don’t stop,” she implored.

He pumped his hips at a steady pace, delighting in her tight pussy, and her young body undulating. As petty as it was, the encounter with her father - and by proxy, her mother - made it all the sweeter.

Revenge is a dish best served in a hot, wet pussy, popped into his head, and he grinned at the thought.

She glanced back at him, her face tightening with pleasure, and said, “Oh, fuck yes. Your cock feels so good. Faster.”

Faster he could manage, and so much more. Years of experience had taught him a multitude of tricks. The hint of delighted surprise in her voice when he bent his knees a little, changing the angle at which he was penetrating her, encouraged him to bring out a few more. He varied the speed and angle of his thrusts, keeping her off-balance, hitting new pleasure centers when she least expected it. The rising pitch and volume of her whimpers left little doubt it was working.

“Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!” she cried when he hit her with a far quicker series of thrusts.

He was beginning to feel the first tickles of an impending orgasm, but concentrating on giving her far more pleasure than he’d ever given her mother helped stave it off.

Soon enough, he was pounding her at full force. Her butt jiggled. Her breasts swayed erratically. Her strawberry-blonde locks danced from the shockwaves traveling through her body. He released her hip with his left hand, dipped his thumb in her abundant juices, and pulled out the next surprise from his bag of tricks.

Caitlin yelped when the slippery digit pressed hard against the pink iris of her ass.

“Don’t stop! Fuck m-m-m-meee!” she squealed.

He could feel the tips of her fingers thrumming against his thrusting shaft, a testament to how quickly she was working her clit. He pressed harder on his thumb, slipping it inside her, and she squealed again.

Dave pounded her with his thumb in her ass, and her cries turned into a nearly unbroken song of ecstasy. Then, out of the blue, her voice choked off in a squeak. She dropped down a moment later and wailed into the mattress as she came.

He growled as he felt her walls contract around him, and saw her visible hand curl into a claw. He kept the pressure on, driving into her climaxing pussy, and her voice rang out again when her throes caused her head to turn, her scream combining with the slaps of their flesh colliding. He gripped her hips, keeping her from squirming away from him, and keeping her coming.