Chapter 4

Denise Lafayette was taking no chances; she had two beach towels under her, well overlapped, and among her beachside accessories were a small whisk broom and a battery-powered vacuum cleaner.

Durward McNally grinned as he watched her police up the nappy surface around her before she lay back and relaxed, adjusting her sunglasses.

Her tan was already well established, and she was using no visible lotions or oils. Only the natural satin sheen of her skin reflected the afternoon sun. Tiny beads of perspiration began to form in several spots, but Durward knew it was something else which glistened in the brown tendrils of hair that covered her lower belly and the mound of her cunt.

He had been standing near her little island of terry cloth, enjoying the rich vision of her voluptuous charms as she moved. Now that she had settled down, he was anxious to lie beside her and use all of his remaining senses to enjoy her delicious femaleness. He took a step toward the toweled area.

"Dur!" she cried. "Brush off all the sand you have on you before you get on the towel!"

He picked up her whisk broom, flicked it lightly over his lower thighs, knees, calves and ankles. Then he sat carefully on the towel, held up one foot at a time, and brushed off every grain of sand he could locate before allowing his feet to touch the material.

"Now am I decontaminated?" he asked with a smile, tossing the whisk broom down where he had found it.

"I hope so," she said with a giggle. "I'm not going through last summer's humiliation again. Do you know I had some of this damn sand embedded in my snatch and couldn't even douche it away? I had to have my gynecologist remove it. And I overheard the bastard talking to his nurse. He referred to me as 'Gravel Gertie'!"

"Which one of us guys was careless enough to give you a dose of beach itchy" he asked when they had stopped laughing.

"None of you," she admitted. "I was just careless about nude sunbathing. But I'm eliminating all sources this year, believe me!" She got up on her hands and knees and pretended to examine him very closely for maverick grains of sand.

"Hey!" he cried as she began to flick his half-hard cock with soft fingertips. "I haven't been near the sand with that! I just walked out here and stood around!"

"Can't be too sure," she giggled. She held the stiffening shaft in one hand and continued to brush it lightly, making sure that her caressing strokes set up an increasing stimulation. When it was rock-hard, she squeezed his cock gently. "I forgot. This is not supposed to be dry cleaned. I'd better wash it."

Her lips encircled the tip, slid down over it, and back up. She licked it from tip to base with her tongue, making Durward almost groan as the exciting sensations rippled over him. She took the tool in her mouth again and started to work on it in earnest. He pulled away from her and waved his stiff rod in the air.

"I wasn't through with it," she complained.

"It won't stand much agitation," he told her. "You washed it fine. Now I'm drip-drying it."

She watched him wave his cock around, licking her lips and rubbing her cunt with frantic fingers. She seemed about to explode with the lustful hungers that were building inside her.

"Okay, it's clean!" she cried. "Put it in me, Dur... for God's sake, fuck me! I'm going crazy!" She moved to squat over him and let her ass down slowly as she rotated it, seeking with the mouth of her cunt the only food that would satisfy its increasing hunger.

He guided the tip of his cock into the slippery maw as it came within reach. Denise grunted softly, tilted her pelvis downward to achieve the angle she wanted, then eased her weight onto the thick stake of flesh, impaling her cunt completely.

"Oh, Dur! That whang feels so good inside me!" She began to rock and fuck at the same time, making his cock spiral around in her wet, heated sheath as it slid inward and outward in long, hard strokes.

She had not been exaggerating her need or her readiness. He felt her fluids oozing down over his balls and groin as she rode him. Her leg muscles stood out like steel springs as she tensed and bounced, levering herself onto his swollen cock in an ever increasing frenzy.

The full, firm mounds of her tits jiggled and bounced springily at every movement, and he wanted to get his mouth on them, nibble and suck them as she screwed her twat down onto the tingling shaft of his prick.

His hands reached upward, sliding from her moving hips to the quivering mounds of her boobs. He cupped them firmly, catching the nipples between thumbs and forefingers and squeezing them in rhythm to the fucking she was giving him.

"Oooohhh!" she breathed. "Yes! Milk 'em, Dur."

He kneaded and squeezed the generous udders, milked at the spongy nipples, and felt the dampness on his fingers as he cleared her milk ducts of their watery secretions. She moaned and fucked him harder.

His arms began to ache from the unnatural position of his long reach, but Denise was so happy with the excitement it brought her that he kept it up until she was almost sobbing with joy.

"Dur... oh, Dur!" she cried. "I'm coming now!"

She screwed down onto him for another few strokes, then drove hard to jam his cock into her cunt as the first spasm hit her. She ground her ass against him, frictioning her cunt on his crotch mat in a writhing, clinging frenzy.

Durward's cock jerked inside her box, releasing its load in hot spurts. She whimpered as he filled her every nook with the gushing semen, then uttered a loud cry and fen over sideways, breaking their connection and letting the juices run in all directions.

She toppled diagonally on the overlapped towels. Only her head was on the sand, her long brown tresses spread out on the whitely shining granules as she gasped and moaned softly.

Durward picked up her sunglasses from the towel -- they had been jerked off her head by the violence of her movements -- and instated them for her. She thanked him with a brief grunt as she adjusted them on the sensitive bridge of her nose.

"Now you're contaminated," he teased. "The second you raise your head, that lovely brown hair is going to scatter sand all over your nice clean towel."

"Oh, Dur! Vacuum it for me, please," she asked, fumbling for the flashlight-shaped accessory. He took it, went out on the sand beyond her head, and knelt there. He lifted her head, shook separate handfuls of the brown tresses to dislodge the surface granules, then vacuumed them with the device.

The suction was weak, but it seemed to do the job, and after he had cleaned the corner of the towel where some sand had fallen, he leaned down and kissed her moist, ripe lips.

"Okay. Scrunch over and get your head on the magic carpet," he told her. She eased herself around carefully and let her head down on the safe area.

"Thanks, Dur. You're a doll. I love the beach, but... I just don't dig the idea of sandy fucking.

"When did you change your mind about me?" Cassandra's voice inquired from somewhere in back of Denise.

Cassandra was the epitome of sex-kittenhood as she stood, feet placed well apart, hands on excitingly curved hips, and a gay smile on her freshly moistened lips -- lips, Durward noticed, that were precisely copied from her sexy mother.

"Sandy!" Denise peered up over the tops of her sunglasses at the girl and her escort. Tom was a pace behind her, grinning almost foolishly at his playmate's teasing of her mother.

"I didn't, silly," Denise said. "I meant that I don't dig getting half the beach in my twat while I'm having fun. You know what I went through last summer!"

"I know," Sandy replied. "I couldn't resist the straight line, Mother."

Denise's usually cheerful face acquired a slight frown. She seemed to be thinking intently for a moment. Then she flashed her daughter one of her brightest smiles.

"Sandy, honey," she said in what was anything but a maternal tone. "I think that you'd better switch to a first-name basis with your parents if you're going to play in the same league with them. It's not exactly conducive to sexual excitement to be called Mother at such times. Sort of dulls the romantic aspect."