After Ripeness Fades

Many, many thanks to friend and fan Eric_Shift for suggesting the idea for this story .

***

It was unfortunate that the season was still cold and raw. Jodi had only wanted one last walk along the stretch of what she had come to think of as "her" beach, but she'd forgotten that April could bring such wretched weather to the coast. Back in the city it was high spring with blossoming trees, balmy temperatures and randy birds singing in every tree. But here at the shore the angry waves and bitter wind ate away at the long sandy strip of land while screaming gulls swooped and circled, cheering like bloody-minded spectators at an un-refereed brawl.

The trail was corrugated in weathered pine boards and half buried in creeping dunes. Jodi flinched uselessly as gusts of wind tortured her legs with racing tendrils of rasping sand. It stung the flesh above her knee-high boots and swirled up her skirt. Cursing the outfit she had picked more for the mirror than for the weather, she gathered her sweater tighter to her torso and tried to pull her hem lower down her thighs. But finally she gave up, turning away from the walkway to head inland. It was just as well, her connection to this stretch of beach was finished; or it would be after today anyway. Her beloved beach house had fallen victim to a tighter budget as her income eroded to half its former grandeur then to half again.

Her agent had warned her this day would come. She'd implored her girls to plan for the future while the money was coming in easy; get an education, develop a talent, buy into a business, anything. But it was too easy to let the few years of peak ripeness slip by while pissing money away on clothes, cars, musician boyfriends and other useless trinkets. At least Jodi had made an investment. Not that she was making a fortune on the sale of her condo, but it would keep her fed while she found her feet in some yet-to-be determined new life. She shuddered as she thought of girls like Elsa, reduced to turning tricks as a call girl to pay off her debts and feed her habits.

As she left the path she spotted a single car in the parking lot back behind the dunes. It was a sad looking station wagon full aluminum cans, weathered glass, driftwood and other old trash. The owner was probably picking along the water's edge now, searching for flotsam spit up by the spring storms.

Jodi bent over and pivoted the side mirror outward to check her reflection. Her green eyes were watery from the wind and her long dark hair was blown into a feathery halo around her face. Her skin was pink from the sting of the cold air. She was still beautiful, exceedingly so, but she could only see what was lacking in herself. Her lively ripeness of early womanhood was gone; that certain something you couldn't even define as being a quality of the eyes or the mouth or the skin. Whatever it was, it had vanished. Now she was merely "pretty" and pretty didn't pay the bills.

"Hey, what the hell you doin' to my car?" said an old voice behind her.

Startled, Jodi wheeled around to find an aged but healthy looking man standing behind her holding a metal detector, a shovel and a bucket. His face was clenched into a scowl.

"Sorry, I was just checking my reflection."

"For

who

?" he said sarcastically. "There's no one here."

"I... Just out of habit I guess."

"Well, Jiminy frickin' Christmas, you got my mirror all outta whack! I had it just the way I wanted it!"

The old man's irritation surprised her. She was used to having men fall over themselves to accommodate her - the straight ones anyway. They'd shower her with complements and gifts and look deeply into her eyes to tell her everything she said was fascinating and profound. But then they'd try to possess her; wall her off from the other men who wanted her; guard her like a toy or a prize. They'd call you a queen with one breath and a whore on the next if they didn't get their way. Was it any wonder she had long ago lost her appetite for romance? In a way it was refreshing that the old guy wasn't trying to flirt with her or make nice. It felt honest. It felt real.

"Don't freak out Mister, I didn't break it."

"Not yet you didn't. Just leave it alone. And don't tell me not to '

freak out

'!"

"OK, whatever." She said taking a step back.

"You couldn't go a hundred yards without checking how young and pretty you are, could you?" he rasped at her. "Well let me tell you missy, you're gonna be like this one day too," he said sticking his face forward to display his wizen, wrinkled skin with its big pores and liver spots. "And you're gonna look back at this moment and feel like a stupid little ninny!"

Something about the phrase "little ninny" tickled Jodi. Perhaps it was the full-on old-fashionedness of it; perhaps it was the fact that at five-nine, she was actually a couple of inches taller than him; hardly "little". Whatever it was, an amused smile crept onto her face.

"Bah. I'm wasting my time. Get back to your life," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand as he turned towards his car.

The "get back to your life" stung more than it should have. She didn't have much of a life to get back to. Fortunately he had turned away before he could see her smile fall and tears well up in her eyes. She walked rapidly across the asphalt to the road while silently cursing herself for letting the rude old bastard get to her.

"Hey, are you OK?" said a male voice as she got to the exit to the road. She looked to her left to see a handsome-ish guy in a New York Jets windbreaker striding up to her. A large, unleashed, black dog trotted at his side.

"I'm fine," she said as she continued walking.

"Do you want me to talk to that guy? He shouldn't act like a..."

"I'm

Fine

," spat Jodi. The last thing she needed was for some local douche-bag to start a fight with an old man in a parking lot in some lame attempt to get into her panties.

"Just trying to help, bitch," he said to her back as she walked away.

She walked across the island to the other side. It wasn't far. The little resort town of Blaire Island was a couple of miles long but only a few blocks wide; merely a low ridge of sand between the ocean and a wide, marshy lagoon. She walked through the seedy part of town, where small, run-down houses were rented by the week to young families and groups of college kids. At this time of year it was like a ghost town, with sand in the streets and desperate looking weeds shouldering their way through cracked sidewalks. She walked as quickly as she could through the empty streets.

She was glad to get to the marina on the lagoon side of the island where there a few cars and scores of boats. There was a club with a decent bar at the marina where she considered stopping to get a drink and warm up a bit, but she decided against it. She didn't want to spend her afternoon getting hit on by some daytime drunk.

Ambling by the marina, Jodi passed a series of long docks blocked by chain link gates, empty boat ramps, marine supply warehouses and other associated businesses. It was when she was passing a boat repair shop with a garage door opened to the street when she spotted something familiar within. It was herself, mocking her with her own youth and beauty from years past as she stared seductively from a poster tacked to the wall.

It was a promotional poster for Evinrude that she'd posed for nearly ten years ago. In it she was wearing a tight, yellow wet suit; sleeveless, legless and unzipped down the front so her firm abdomen and the inner slopes of her breasts were on display. Her skin was oiled so the mist they'd sprayed her with beaded deliciously on her tanned flesh. Her muscles stood out in clear definition as she grasped the heavy chain holding the large outboard motor she pretended to be hoisting with a pulley. Locks of her hair drooped temptingly to partially obscure her sultry eyes and her lips were parted ever so slightly to show her teeth clenched as if she was barely fighting back a libido inflamed by the proximity of such a high powered outboard motor. The only sour note was that someone had drawn a curly mustache on her face and written "fuck my pussy" in a word balloon next to her head.

She was drawn to her own image as if it were a mirror that reflected back through time. She stepped into the garage to look closer at the poster. God she had been hot. Hot enough to be an A-list model. Why hadn't it happened? Why had she never made it to the super-stratosphere that girls like Klum, Crawford and Brinkley had attained? What had she been missing?

"You need somethin' Miss?" asked a voice behind her.

She turned around to see a big guy with short brown hair, wide shoulders, thick, hairy arms and shockingly blue eyes. He was wearing a greasy grayish-blue coverall and holding a rag that was almost as filthy as his hands.

"Oh. I'm sorry I was... um, just looking around."

"We don't like to let people in the workshop. It's dangerous."

She looked around at the assortment of heavy equipment, power tools, hanging chains, hydraulic hoists and a smallish dry-dock fronted by an interior quay currently closed off with a big overhead door. He was right. It looked like it could be a dangerous place.

"I'm sorry, I was just looking around."

"Yeah, that's what you said."

She realized she was waiting for him to recognize her. She was standing right next to the poster for Pete's sake. Surely she didn't look

that

different from ten years ago. So she dithered, waiting for him to make the connection.

"There's just so much interesting stuff in here," she said and walked over to a partially disassembled outboard motor. She put her hands on it and looked back at him. Maybe the juxtaposition would spark something in his tiny grease-monkey brain.

"Don't touch that please," was all he said.

It was really starting to bug her that he didn't make the connection. Hell he'd probably even beat off to that fucking poster. She decided to try another tack. She stepped over to a fat chain suspended from a heavy I-beam and reached up to grasp it. She hung on it and arched her back with her ass sticking out; exactly as in the poster.

"What does this make you think of?" she asked.

He cracked a half smile. "I think I might be getting the idea. You got any more clues for me?"

He was a good looking guy, Jodi admitted to herself. A lot more low-rent than she was used to dallying with, but damn, look at those arms. She decided he was worth another hint. She slowly unbuttoned her sweater, then her blouse; right down to her navel. She was wearing a bra, unlike in the poster, but surely the effect was close enough. She reached up to grasp the chain in both hands and strike the pose again.

"How about now?"

He didn't say anything. He stepped close, very close, and stared down into her face. Damn, he was tall; six five - maybe six and a half feet tall. She got a sudden feeling of what-the-hell-am-I-doing as he leered at her and reached up to take her hands. But he didn't take her hands. He clamped her wrists in one of his big paws and wrapped his dirty rag around them. He quickly and fluidly tied a strong nautical knot that bound her to the chain.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"I got your hint. A rich bitch; in town during the off season; wantin' a little action..."

"No, that's not it at all you big idiot, let me down."

"Right. After you practically begged me to tie you up? You're just into a little domination, right? You want the big, dumb, dirty mechanic to take you and use you rough."

"I... I don't..."

She found she couldn't answer except to swallow heavily and look up at him through wide eyes. He loomed over her like a palisade of meat with his face right over hers as he spoke. She could smell the grease and sweat on him. He looked so powerful. He smelled so... male.

"Tell you what lady; we'll do a little test."

He reached down. She could feel his hands take the hem of her skirt and push it up until it was gathered around her hips. His rough fingers slipped up between her legs, making her flesh tremble as they lightly brushed along the skin of her inner thigh. She bit her lip because she knew what he'd find. When his fingers contacted the damp fabric of her panties his face once again cracked into a leering half smile.

"Wet panties don't lie", he said.

One of his wide, calloused fingers slipped under the cotton and ran lightly along her lips. For a big man he was very delicate. He traced up along one of her outer labia then back down the other. Jodi found herself writhing at his touch. She wished he would touch her deeper.

He did. His finger slipped into the crease of her sex. She was very wet now and there was little friction as he teased up and down along her pussy. She positioned her feet wider as she heaved a pant of desire. Grabbing her panties, he yanked them down to her knees.

But then he stopped. Jodi huffed in frustration as he turned away to walk over to the garage door up front. Her body trilled with expectation and a little fear as he reached up and yanked it close with an echoing clatter.

"What are you going to do to me?"

"I'm going to give you everything you want... Including a few things you don't even know you want."

"Like what?"

"To begin with I'm going to teach you to enjoy yourself while shutting the fuck up," he said as he shoved a handkerchief into her mouth. She gagged a bit as he pushed it back a little too far.

"Now," he said slowly as he reached for her blouse. "Let's see what you got in here." He grabbed the fabric and yanked it fully open, sending the last two still-fastened buttons sailing off to plink against some metal surfaces somewhere.

Bastard! This is an expensive shirt and those buttons are hard to replace

. She thought even as his brutish carelessness provoked her skin to erupt in goose-bumps.

"Hmm, not bad Miss, not bad at all," he said as he took her waist in his hands to turn her body this way and that; inspecting her like a piece of meat.

He moved his hands up her body. God they were rough, course like sandpaper as they slid along her flanks. He squeezed her lower ribs firmly and she wheezed into her gag as he forced the wind from her. Then he was sliding his wide palms over her full breasts. He gave them a gentle squeeze, then a not so gentle squeeze. Jodi trembled at his touch.

"This is gonna have to go," he said plucking at her bra. The clasp was right there in the front but he reached down with one hand to fish a folding knife from his pocket. With a flick he clicked it open and brought it to her chest. Jodi felt the cool metal slide along her skin as he slipped the flat of the blade under the right strap and cut it loose, then under the left strap and cut it loose. Her tits pushed the cups of her brassiere down as they bounced free into the cold, metallic air of the workshop. He pushed the useless fragment of the bra down around her waist and took her nipples between his thumb and index fingers. He squeezed them hard causing her to squirm like an eel between her bound wrists and her pinched nipples.

He smiled. "Like that, do you?"

She tried to glare at him with a look of defiance, but she couldn't muster it. She was growing wetter by the minute as his big filthy hands left smudged, greasy fingerprints all over her chest.

What the hell is wrong with me?

She thought.

He reached behind her head and grabbed a fistful of hair. He pulled back, exposing her neck to him and forcing her tits to lift higher up her chest. His face, rough with scratchy bristles, began gliding along her throat, biting her with firm, mildly painful nips as his other hand slid down her abdomen, up under her skirt and along her pussy.

"Unnnnng" she groaned involuntarily.

A finger slipped up inside her as his thumb began circling her clit. She began moving her hips, pushing herself down onto his fat digit while trying to position her nub where he would hit it just right on each swirl of his thumb. His face was moving down her upper ribs now, stopping to chew along her collarbone before dipping down to bathe her full breasts with his tongue and grind one nipple, then the other firmly between his teeth. She pulled her legs as wide as she could against the stubborn panties that still constrained her at the knees. Finally she heard a tear and they gave way. She threw a calf around his body; drawing him to her, urging him on as she felt her body begin to hum with escalating throbs of pleasure.

"What the fuck, Billy?" said a man's voice from somewhere beyond their intertwined bodies.

Her tormentor, 'Billy' apparently, turned his face away from her chest and pulled his fingers from her pussy. Her frustration at the curtailment of her gathering climax was overpowered by her terror at the knowledge that another man had entered the workshop. She strained her eyes to see, but her head was still pulled back by the brute's strong hand. Her vision was limited to her wrists bound to the heavy chain above her with the steel truss and corrugated aluminum ceiling beyond.

"Hi Wally, hi Angelo," said Billy. He brushed Jodi's leg away from where it encircled his waist and released her hair as he stood up from his crouch.

Jodi snapped her head up and looked at the new arrivals with worried eyes. One was obviously Billy's brother, perhaps even his twin. He was just as large, just as meaty, but with long hair that he wore lank and greasy. His startlingly blue eyes inspected her with unconcealed lust as he absently stroked his mustache. The other man was older, shorter and less muscular than the brothers. His skin was craggy, pock-marked, and dusky. His nose was crooked and turned up like a pig's. His dark eyes were small and close together and his dark hair had receded to the back of his skull, leaving mere wisps along his scalp in their wake.

"We brought you your calzone Bill, but looks like you've already started eatin'," said the dark, ugly man.

"Where'd she come from Billy?" demanded Billy's brother.

"She came in and was looking at the Evinrude poster, then she started messing with the outboard over there and hangin' on the chain asking if I could take a hint. So... we, um... we got started."

Billy's brother's mouth dropped open. "You're shittin' me."

"Naw. For real."

The dark ugly man stepped up close to Jodi, all the while looking her straight in the eye; not ogling her body at all. For some reason this made her feel even more exposed than Billy and his brother's blatant inspection of her exposed pussy. Finally the dark man's face split into a big, knowing grin.

"Jesus Christ Billy, you're the dumbest motherfucker I know."

"What?"

"She wasn't asking you to tie her up and molest her; she was trying to get recognized."

"Why, who is she?" asked the brother.

"Wally, you're just as dumb as your brother."

"Just fuckin' tell us Angelo."

"I'll show you," he said and walked behind Jodi to rummage around for something on a work bench. As he did so Wally walked up to stand at Billy's side and gaze down at her body as they towered above her. She felt her skin prickle with the unwavering focus of their gaze. She realized with a sense of shock that her pussy was still wet and getting wetter.

Angelo stepped back in front of her. He held up a black marker and uncapped the felt. The smell of the solvent wafted up Jodi's nostrils as he brought the tip under her nose. She pulled back but he grabbed a handful of hair and held her head steady as he drew a black, curly tipped mustache over her upper lip. As he did so the strong smell of the marker made her feel woozy.

"You like the smell, eh, bitch?" asked Angelo into her ear as her eyes began watering from the vapor.

"Hey, she looks like the girl in the Evinrude poster!" said Billy.