All characters are over eighteen. All people and places are fictional.
*****
Mosquitoes buzzed outside as a young woman stuffed wadded-up pieces of toilet paper into holes in old window screens. Naked in the stifling humid heat, she slapped her hand against her neck, squishing a small splat of blood out of one of the infernal pests.
"These little fuckers are gonna drive me crazy one of these days," she said in a deep southern drawl. "Y'all gonna help me with this shit or what?"
"Yeah, yeah," another naked girl said as she got up off her chair to help. "Keep your knickers on."
They worked their way around the screened-in back deck of the old barge, methodically plugging up any openings they could find.
"Why's momma park us in these fuckin' swamps anyway?" the southern girl said.
"You know why Ash," Taylor said. "It's not like we can tie up to the town fuckin' dock now, can we?"
"You probly love it," Ashley said with a laugh. "Yer an old swamper at heart I bet. Rollin' around in the mud with a big ol' southern cock in ya."
"Hey anything beats North Dakota sweetheart. You don't know what mud is 'till you've been up there in the springtime," Taylor said.
Right below where the girls were working was the transom of the old barge. Pinkish-grey surplus paint gave way to bright red letters, carefully hand painted with a brush:
OAR HOUSE
LOUISIANA
The grey paint — the girls called it "puke grey" — covered the whole barge, giving it a militaristic look, like a worn out leftover from World War Two that had seen better days. The only splashes of color, other than the name, were the doors, hatches, a boarding ladder, and a pair of oars decorating the side of the main cabin, all bright red and welcoming. At least that's how Momma hoped it looked.
"Fuckin' little shits!" Ashley said angrily as she squished another blood-filled bug under her hand. "Why don't they bother you? I'm gonna get a fuckin' disease from these little fuckers."
"Honey, if you ain't got the
clap
yet, you're immune to
everything
," Taylor said with a chuckle.
Getting 'the clap' was a running joke amongst the girls, but Momma was never amused by it. "Keep that word down," she'd say. "Any of the men hear that word they go runnin'."
Keeping happy thoughts in men's heads was important to Momma, and she worked hard at it. Keeping the girls happy was hard work too, but she was good to them, and they loved her for it. Most of the girls had come to her during hard times, running from abusive men, or worse. Oar House really did feel like home to them, a sanctuary from the real world, even if they did have to suck some ugly-ass cocks now and then.
There were as many nice cocks as there were ugly ones though, probably more truth be told. The fisherman that were the girls most frequent customers were in good physical shape from their hard work, and most of them were reasonably young. They had money to spend, that's for sure, and they loved a good time. Momma tried to make sure the barge was near enough to the fishing fleet's docks to give it to them.
Oar House was a worn out old barge, yes, but below decks you'd never guess it. Bright and cheerful, Momma had it decorated in a way that made everybody smile. Splashes of color that caught the eye, real paintings that she made herself, knickknacks and oddities scattered around everywhere. There was a stuffed baby alligator with a top hat and a hand-rolled cigarette in its mouth, an autographed picture of Frank Sinatra, and a sweet looking doll in a diaper holding a tiny blanket in one hand and a stick of dynamite in the other. Most of the paintings were of the girls. Every once in a while Momma would pull out her paints and a slab of wood and somebody would pose for her, usually in their birthday suit and sometimes doing naughty things. Momma got a kick out of it and loved to hang them up where all the customers could see them. She even sold one now and then, which always made her happy.
Each of the girl's tiny little bedrooms had nice little curtains on the small windows, pretty bedspreads and nice sheets on comfortable mattresses. They each had a dresser, the drawers lined with clean paper, and a bookshelf holding their favorite books. Reading was the primary way to pass time on the boat, and even the girls who didn't think they'd like it fell under the spell of the written word after a while. Momma loved to read, but it was a girl from Atlanta named Donna Lee who really got the reading ball rolling.
She showed up out of nowhere one day, a pretty little thing dressed like she was heading off to church in the big city. Momma had Oar House tied up at the fishing fleet's fuel dock, taking on diesel and fresh water. To hear Momma tell it Donna Lee just walked up to her and said, "I'm comin' with y'all. That's all right, isn't it?" Donna Lee had three suitcases with her, two with beautiful clothes in them, and one full of books. To hear Donna Lee tell it Momma said, "Sure, we've got a room open. Y'all know how we spend our time here?" "Fuckin' and readin' I hope," Donna Lee said.
That was over nine years ago, and Donna Lee still out fucks and out reads everybody on the boat. And she's still a pretty little thing, dressed like she's heading off to church in the big city. When she's not naked anyway.
She went to prep school as a child and on to college, studying literature and art history, so she's the go-to girl on the boat for the new girls who never got a good education. There's been quite a few of them over the years, and Donna Lee loves helping them with their reading skills, opening their minds to the wonders of a good book. Reading is such a big deal now on the boat Momma gave up a little income and turned one of the tiny bedrooms into a library. Well, not so much a library as a room stuffed to the brim with books. It can be a challenge finding what you're looking for, but usually someone has a pretty good idea what pile to dig though.
One of the wonderful things about it all is that a lot of the customers bring books with them now as gifts for the girls. Oh sure, they still bring candy and chocolates, and trinkety jewelry, but the books are always the big hit. Bring one of Mamma's girls a wonderful book and be prepared for the best fuck of your life.
"You girls better get ready, the fleet came in a little while ago," Momma said. She had her arms crossed, leaning on the kitchen windowsill overlooking the back deck. "Come and have a quick supper, you'll need your energy."
"All right Momma, we're almost done," Ashley said.
Momma lingered for a minute, admiring Ashley and Taylor's naked backsides as they finished mosquito patrol. "You plannin' on entertainin' out there?" she asked.
"Maybe Momma. Some of the boys like it out here with all the nature sounds and whatnot," Ashley said.
"Maybe you better pull out the cushions then," Momma said, and she disappeared back into the kitchen.
"Good idea Momma," Taylor said.
————————
The buzz of outboard motors drew near as the girls quickly finished their supper.
"I'll take care of this mess later. Man your battle stations!"
Momma loved to say that when she heard the boats coming. Soon the girls could hear the boat's engines shut down as they tied up alongside the old barge. Men's laughter filled the humid night air as they clamored up the boarding ladder.
"We're not comin' out to meet ya," Lisa Lou yelled through the screen door. "These damn mosquitoes'll carry us away."
"The only thing carryin' you away tonight Lisa Lou is my big ol' dick!" one of the young men yelled.
Lisa Lou, a tall, curvy woman from deep in the heart of Texas, laughed like a school girl when she heard him.
Soon all the bedrooms were full, some with more than one man, and Momma was smiling contentedly as she cleaned up her kitchen.
Lisa Lou did in fact have that "big ol' dick" that night. It belonged to Scratch Wilson, one of the younger of the fisherman that frequented Oar House. The girls all wondered how he saved enough money to put food in his stomach, so freely did he spend his earnings on them. Every girl on the boat had been with him time and time again. Even Momma had sampled his charms.
His first night there he was skinny and shy, fresh out of high school and brand new to the fishing business. He had just gotten a job on a local shrimp boat, and the crew brought him to Oar House as part of his initiation, like a hazing at a frat house. Nervous and quiet, Donna Lee took him under her wing, her sophisticated, educated ways putting the boy at ease as she slowly lost piece after piece of clothing. It wasn't so much that he was put at ease, he was just plain mesmerized by the pretty young thing from Atlanta. She had started out with her usual Sunday-go-to-church clothes, and before he knew it she was standing before him in flesh-colored lace bra and panties, with sheer thigh-high hose on her shapely legs.
"You're gonna need to know how to do this," she said, and she turned her back to him so he could undo her bra. She could feel his hands shaking as he fumbled with the clasp. "Pay attention to how it works. There'll be a lot more in your future, and you wanna look suave with this kinda thing. The ladies like that."
Donna Lee taught him like that all night, keeping him in her room well after his little bit of money had run out. Scratch had a big ol' dick, that's for sure, a solid eight inches if Donna Lee was estimating correctly, and she usually did. It was quite the sight on a skinny boy like Scratch, and Donna Lee's eyes got big when she first saw it.
"My, my, Scratch! That's just the prettiest thing I've ever
seen
!" she said, and then she sucked it into her mouth and straight down her throat.
Needless to say, Scratch was suddenly very glad his new crew members had dragged him out to that old grey barge on that backwater creek that night.
After two years of hard work on the shrimp boat, Scratch had filled out with beautiful muscles and ripply six-pack abs. His curly blonde hair had highlights from the strong sun so light they looked like they were done with bleach. Twinkly blue eyes and a big, ever present smile completed the best package to ever climb aboard Oar House. The girls just loved him, and loved the fact that he didn't play favorites. All the girls had enjoyed Scratch's charms. But true to his word that night when he climbed the ladder, it was Lisa Lou's turn to be carried away on his "big ol' dick."
