Beach Blanket Ricquie

They call me Horndoggy. I'm a beachcomber.

Back in 1965, the year in which my story takes place, I was living in a beach shack just off Daytona Beach. I didn't do any work, anymore than I do now, I just liked to hang out on the beach with the teenagers and do a bit of surfing. The teens around there thought I was pretty cool for an old codger. Someone over the age of thirty, that is. Most of the guys learned to surf from me, and if I got lucky I liked to give the girls some lessons of another kind.

Now I have more than a few stories to tell, but today I want to tell you about what happened between me and Ricquie in my beach shack on the day of the big graduation Luau back in 1965. Of course it was the teens who were graduating. Me, I wouldn't graduate from high school for another eight years after that, exactly five days after my fortieth birthday. My extended period of secondary education, a world record I believe, was partly due to my own stupidity, but also to the realization that, as long as I stayed in high school, I might get older but the girls I hung out with would stay the same age.

Which brings me to Ricquie, the prettiest girl in my class and prom queen of 1964. Now I know you all know Ricquie now she's famous, flashing her pussy all over the internet, but I knew Ricquie back when she was just eighteen years old and boning up for the big exam. (I bet you didn't know she's sixty-three years old. Amazing what you can do with the latest version of Photoshop.)

When she wasn't boning up in the library, she was giving this old dog the bone by romping around the beach in that skimpy blue striped bikini of hers. You know, the one she wore in the "Green Acres" set. (Amazing how those synthetic materials last.)

Luckily she didn't seem to notice the bulge forming in the front of my board shorts that day when, all glistening wet from the sea, she sat down beside me on the sand.

"Are you coming to the Luau?" she asked, as I imagined how easy it would be to slip those tiny wet briefs down her slim legs and bury my face in her sea-salty pussy.

"You're not listening to me, are you?" she said, when, lost in thought, I failed to answer here question.

"Oh, yes, I'll be coming," I assured her, still letting my eyes roam over the tiny bits of wet cloth that covered her pert breasts and, I liked to imagine, hairy little pussy.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked.

"I'm just admiring your bikini," I lied.

"Oh," she said, suddenly enthusiastic, "it's a really nice one isn't it. It's new. And it didn't cost me very much either."

Now she was standing up and giving me a little private fashion show, prancing and turning about this way and that. The way her cute little butt moved under the wet cloth quickly caused the front of my board shorts to do a circus-tent impersonation.

"Have you got a carrot in your shorts?" asked Ricquie, innocently.

"No, no. A banana," I explained. "I'm keeping it for later, and I don't have any pockets."

"Oh, I love bananas," said Ricquie enthusiastically.

"Well, maybe later I'll share it with you," I said with a smile.

"Well, see you at the Luau," she replied, and then walked away, leaving me to groan in helpless desire at the sight of her departing bottom.

I didn't see her again until after dark. I always like to let a party get well and truly started before I make my appearance and so I was wandering up from my shack towards the big bonfire on the beach about 9.30 that night, when, seemingly out of nowhere, Ricquie ran full pelt into me in the dark. She was in tears.

"Frankie's broken up with me," she sobbed. "He's gone off with Annette because she has bigger...bigger...well, you know, she's bigger than me."

"Come back to my shack and tell me all about it," I said, softly.

Once we arrived at my shack, Ricquie's grief had turned to anger.

"After all the things I've done for him," she said, "how dare he dump me. Annette's just a bimbo anyway."

"Annette doesn't have any class," I agreed with her. "You, my honey, have class."

"Do you think so?" she asked, flattered.

"Of course," I replied.

"You don't think my...my...oh, my boobs are too small?" she asked.

"They look just fine to me," I assured her. "Of course, I could tell better if you took your top off."

"Did what?" Ricquie cried.

"I know, you're shy, and you think that if you let me see your breasts I'll think you're cheap," I said, "but I'm not like the young boys you hang around with. I'm a man of the world. I won't tell anyone, and having seen loads of naked breasts I can give you an honest opinion about how yours stack up."

"Oh, all right," she agreed, "I am quite keen to get an opinion." With this she slipped off her bikini top to expose two of the sweetest breasts I had ever seen. They were very pale with lovely rosy nipples which were currently standing to attention. Since it was a warm night, I suspected that she found the situation not unpleasant.

"Wow," I said, "Annette may have the quantity, but you sure have the quality, baby."

"You think so?" asked Ricquie, basking in the flattery and quickly losing her shyness.

"You know what you should do if you want to get Frankie back?" I asked.

"No, what?" she replied.

"Try to make him jealous," I suggested.

"How?" she wanted to know.

"Well, isn't there some other guy you could pretend to be going with to get him jealous?" I asked, deadpan.

"Let me think," she replied. "Only you."

"Me?" I cried, in feigned surprise. "I'm way too old for you."

"That's O.K.," she said, "I like older men. Anyway its just pretend, isn't it?"

"That's right," I assured her, "its just pretend. Now you stay here, just like that, while I go and arrange to have someone lead Frankie down here so that he can catch us."

Of course I didn't set anything up. All I did was to spend enough time out of the shack to allow Ricquie to think that I had.

When I got back I found that she had lit the fire and was curled up on the rug in front of it, still topless.

"I spread the rumour around that we were making out down here," I said. "Frankie should be down to have a look in the window in about five minutes. So we don't have long to practise. We want it to look authentic after all." With this I took her in my arms and kissed her. Her soft breasts squashed deliciously against my bare sunburnt chest as I explored her warm, wet mouth with my tongue.

"Wow, you really believe in authenticity," said Ricquie, coming up for air."Have we got time for a snack before Frankie gets here? I see you still have that banana in your shorts."

"Well, actually," I confessed, throwing caution to the winds, "it's not really a banana. It's my body's tribute to your gorgeousness." Here I pulled down my shorts, and allowed my stiff prick to spring forth.

"Ahhhhhhhh!" Ricquie screamed.

"Don't panic," I hissed, trying desperately to salvage the situation. "I'm just acting. Frankie's looking in the window at this very minute."

"But we don't really have to do it, do we?" asked Ricquie. "Just to make him jealous. I mean I've never done it before, even with him."

"Don't worry," I reassured her. "Just a change of plans. He'll see me like this, think I'm about to rape you and rush in to your rescue."

"Oh," said Ricquie.

Of course we had a long time to wait, since Frankie wasn't really at the window. In the meantime I ran around the room cackling insanely like a silent movies villain, my stiff cock wagging ridiculously in front of me.

"I don't think he's going to try to rescue me," concluded Ricquie eventually. "He always was a coward."

"There, there," I said, putting my arm around her and comforting her, now that she was crying once more.

"Does that thing hurt?" she asked, placing her index finger gently on the end of my stiff cock.

"No," I admitted, "but that doesn't mean you can't kiss it better if you like."

"Your so naughty," said Ricquie, blushing. "But more fun than Frankie. I think I will kiss it."

She lower her head slowly and placed her soft lips gently on the end of my prick. Then she stuck out her pink tongue and licked the tip gently. I shuddered with pleasure.

"It tastes salty," she said.

"That's because I've been out surfing most of the day," I explained.

"I like that taste," she said, and began licking up and down my cock from all sides before taking it into her mouth and sucking it like it was a lollypop.

"Mmmmmm," she said, when she had removed it from her mouth. "It may not be a banana, but it still tastes nice."

"Oh, God," I said, trying to pull down Ricquie's panties. "In need you now."

"I can't let you fuck me," Ricquie declared, "we're not even going steady."

"If you let me into those cute little panties of yours, I'll even marry you, if you want," I cried, thus betraying my utter desperation.

"All right," said Ricquie. "You have a deal."

Oblivious to all consequences, I pulled Ricquies bikini bottoms down her legs and threw them across the room. Parting her legs, I buried my face in her pussy, which I found was dripping wet. I lapped up her pussy juice like it was vintage whisky.

"Don't worry about that," she said, pulling me up. "I want you inside me."

Grabbing her sweat-soaked body to me I slid my cock into her slimy pussy and pumped away. I was in heaven, my hands playing with her firm buttocks, her soft breasts massaging my chest, our tongues engaged in intimate caress.

After such a lead up it could not last long and soon I was pumping her sweet, tight pussy full of my hot jism.

After we had calmed down and showered together, we put our bathers back on and joined the others for the weenie roast.

"Horndoggy's going to marry me," Ricquie told everyone, proudly.

"Aren't you jealous?" I asked Frankie.

"Jealous? Why would I be jealous?" Frankie asked, slicking back his duck-tail with a greasy comb. "Annette's always been my girl."

"You mean...you mean...you didn't dump Ricquie?" I stammered.

"Hell, no. I've never been out with Ricquie. The only guy she's ever had eyes for is you," he explained.

"Ricquie!" I yelled, "come here this minute."

Well, the long and the short of it is that I gave Ricquie a damn good spanking, but, being a man of my word, went ahead with the marriage as promised.

To be honest, I considered myself lucky at the time. After all there aren't many girls as sweet as Ricquie. But, looking back on it now and knowing how much I value my free-spirit status, I have to say that I was even luckier the next day when Ricquie met Fabian for the first time and we agreed to lie about the consummation, which actually happened five times that night, and have the marriage annulled.

So now I just bum around on the beach, surf a few waves, and each night, plug-in my computer to see what Ricquie's up to and dream about old times.

The End