"Cougar Town Cock Fest"
by J.D. Savanyu
A perfect Saturday afternoon in sunny Florida. Fancy yachts swayed gently in the Gulfhaven harbor, waiting for their rich owners to take another booze cruise with random bimbos. Meanwhile along the boardwalk, the annual Chicken Festival was in full swing. Dozens of prize hens and roosters were being judged on a grandstand by men in cheesy Victorian costumes, like the Groundhog Day Festival in Punxatawney. Various local merchants hawked their wares in nearby tents, including a trio of sexy milfs. Selling an overpriced local wine brand with their feminine wiles.
"Damn, this cock fest is boring as hell," grunted Jules Cobb. That hot brunette real estate agent took another sip from "Big Carl," an oversized novelty glass full of Kissimmee Ruby Port.
"You got that right, honey," grunted Ellie Torres, Jules' feisty redhead next-door neighbor. "It's also demeaning to the chickens. We should judge them on the content of their character, not the color of their plumage."
"Cock lives matter!" giggled Laurie Keller, Jules' fun-loving blonde assistant.
"Buffalo wings matter more to
me
," Jules retorted. She took another sip of wine, gazing longingly at a big yacht in the harbor. "This festival harkens back to the 1600's, when lots of pirates hung out in Gulfhaven. They got shit-faced on rum, then they gambled on cock fights and hammered some harlots."
"Arrrr, matey!" Laurie uttered playfully. "This town was full of pirates and whores, and now it's full of tax-dodging New Yorkers."
"I haven't gotten laid in almost three months, so even a dirty murderous buccaneer sounds tempting."
"Three
months
?" Laurie gaped. "A hot fucking milf like you?"
"Yeah, it's hard to believe. Maybe my standards are too high."
"Maybe you're not drinking enough wine," Ellie intoned. "This stuff is like love lube, really greasing the wheels down there."
"I'm drinking
more
wine, but getting
less
dick. Defying a basic law of sexual physics."
"I'm not getting much action either lately," Laurie murmured.
"That makes three of us," Ellie grunted. "When I hit the big four-oh, it was like crashing a Ferrari right into a dump truck."
"Let's face it, we're not spring chickens anymore," Jules sighed.
"So what? Now we're summer
cougars,
" Laurie proclaimed.
"Hell yeah, blondie. Hear me roar!" Ellie cheered.
"Speaking of chickens... look over
there
," Laurie beamed, pointing toward three handsome twenty-something men in sharp leisure suits.
"Nice cocks, boys!" Ellie called out, pointing at the three prize birds they held in portable cages.
"Thank you, ma'am," the tallest guy beamed, admiring Ellie's ginger beauty. "This is Esmerelda, a champion Bantam."
"This is JoJo, a two-time champion Cochin," the shortest guy followed.
"And this is Claire, a lovely triple crown Silkie," the medium guy said. "But not as lovely as you, honey," he uttered toward Jules.
"Aw, you're too kind," Jules snickered.
"Say, you fellas look thirsty," Laurie chimed in. "How about a free sample of Kissimmee Ruby Port?"
"That's a real catchy name. Sure, we'll try some."
She uncorked a cold bottle and poured it into three shot glasses. The shortest man took a long delicate sip.
"Mmm, that's a high quality port. Soft texture and rich flavor, with classic hints of sweet raisin, maraschino cherry and all-spice."
"Really?
All-
spice?" Ellie chortled.
"No, I'm just pulling your chain. Every wine in the world tastes the same, no matter the price tag. Welch's grape juice gone bad."
"You got that right," his friend laughed. "We're wealth management advisors at Randall & Cobb, getting rich off tax-dodging yankees like Donald Trump. We have pet chickens at home to take our minds off the rat race."
"I have a pet pussy," Jules giggled. "Little Sparkle Fluffy Princess."
"Hell of a name for a cat," he replied awkwardly. "I'm Joe, by the way. That's Craig, and that's Larry."
"You guys are just my type," Jules beamed while shaking their strong manly hands. "Like those modern fairy tale hunks in Hallmark movies."
"I don't have a gilded chariot with six white horses, but I
do
own a kick-ass yacht. The blue and white one at the end of the pier," Craig said, pointing toward a big bobbing boat.
"I wish I could take that baby for a spin in the shiny gulf," Laurie beamed.
"That can be arranged," Larry replied with a sly grin.
"It
can
?"
"Sure. Why don't you ladies join us here tomorrow at two o'clock, for a three-hour tour?"
"Hell yeah, Larry. We cougars can still rock a string bikini on the starboard bow."
"Awesome. In the meantime, we'll buy some Kissimmee Ruby port. There's a big recession going on, and we need a little pick-me-up with our pet cocks."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Next afternoon, those highly photogenic milfs left their drab lonely houses on Banyan Boulevard and marched down to the Gulfhaven pier, wearing sexier summer dresses. The chicken festival was wrapping up nearby, with a reggae band jammin' a grand finale on the grandstand.
"This boat party's gonna
rock
," Laurie beamed, tossing her radiant golden hair.
"Forget that stupid cock fest. We got our own private sausage fest," Ellie remarked.
They hustled over to the biggest yacht at the end of the dock. Craig, Larry and Joe greeted them with big smiles and friendly waves.
"Ahoy, you cougar cuties!" Craig chuckled.
"We're no meager mountain lions," Ellie replied playfully. "We're savage pussy pirates, raiding your ship and pillaging your booty!"
The ladies pranced onto the spacious deck of the yacht. They took off their dresses, revealing three skimpy bikinis on aerobicized bods.
"Damn, girls. Forty sure
is
the new twenty!" Larry remarked.
"Lots of hot yoga and hot Florida sunshine. That's our little secret," Jules replied.
"And no husbands or kids to drain our life force," Laurie snickered.
"Let's get this Jolly Roger on the high seas," Ellie beamed. "I know you crazy stock bros love living in the fast lane."
"Hell yeah, Jules. This yacht has more horsepower than Warren Buffet's FAANG portfolio."
Joe untied the moorings from the dock, then he stepped behind a steering wheel, guided the boat slowly out of the harbor, and punched it up to high gear. The stiff salty breeze felt so good on their sun-drenched bodies.
"Yee-haw, ride 'em cowboy!" Ellie cheered. She cracked open a bottle of red wine and watched the waterfront condo towers of Gulfhaven fade to insignificant Lego blocks on the horizon.
"I love the sense of serenity I get out here in the gulf, far from the madding crowd," Joe mused.
"Totally," Craig agreed, taking a pensive sip of Kissimmee Ruby Port. "It gets really stressful at the investment firm, with everyone scheming against everyone, messing around with other people's money. These gently rolling waves remind me to stop and smell the roses."
"A few fleeting hours of aquatic nirvana; escaping from a maelstrom of capitalism," Larry murmured.
"You know what
else
a big yacht is good for?" Laurie uttered slyly.
"Fishing?" Joe replied.
"Well, yeah, but something a lot more...
fun
."
"Fucking?"
"Bingo, baby."
"I love watching boat orgies on XNXX, but I never got around to trying the real thing," Craig said awkwardly.
"Fuck XNXX," Ellie grunted. "Real X is a lot more X-ey."
"Is that
so
, ginger?" Craig chuckled. "Sounds like you ladies have been around the block a few times... so why don't you give us a little 'hands-on lesson?'"
"We'll give you a
mouth-on
lesson, darling."
Ellie dropped right to her knees on the deck, and fished a big rod out of his leisure pants. She jammed it deep in her mouth, gagging right away.
"Ooooh
shit
," Craig groaned toward a pure blue sky. "Choke on that big dick, you hot fucking redhead."