George came up off the sand like roused water buffalo, but then staggered, bending over, hands grabbing his balls, with a sharp cry. "Jesus!" he wheezed. More tentatively, he hobbled toward the ocean, but he did allow his man-sized package to swing free. A man with dignity, but he winced at each step.
"Is he going to drown her, now?" asked Sandra. "I never related to men the way Stephanie does. I thought you kicked a guy in the balls if he punched you in the face and was tearing off your blouse. Not just one, both."
She added, "Shouldn't you just walk down there, Tommy? In case?"
I rose immediately. But I said, "You are the one who decked Butch, you know. This guy would be a cream puff for you."
I was squinting at the scintillating brilliance of the water, shading my eyes against it. "She's above water. I don't know what he's doing to her. She shrieking, but laughing..."
"Tommy, we see all that," said Susan.
"I'm ready to race into combat," I said.
"Well, protect your nuts, if you do. Obvious target."
"Why does she do this?" asked Susan.
"Are you asking?"
"Yes, Not rhetorical."
"Then, number one, I don't know. And number two, did you ever have a man crazed for your body, like that—gone mad with lust for you?"
"I'm not a cock teaser."
"Tommy?"
"Well, when a woman gets your dick insanely aroused and can keep it there... Yeah, it's crazy-making, but it's also exciting. I mean, you get peak and you go one and on..."
"Cock teasing," Susan repeated.
"I think she knew exactly what she was doing," said Sandra. "She provoked George till he attacked her."
"And then, she made him hit her, too." Said Susan.
"Wow!" I began, and all eyes focused on the ocean. Naked Stephanie seemed to stagger toward shore, arms thrown forward as though reaching for land. Behind her, George had his hands on her hips and seemed to stagger in step with her.
"What are they doing, now?" asked Sandra.
Then, attaining the beach, where the waves stretched thin far up the sand, Stephanie fell forward, catching herself on her elbows, laughing, but also loudly protesting. "No, no! Easy, now!"
George had fallen with her, landing atop her wet body, pressed against her butt, and his hips were thrusting, jerking hard against her. He kept slamming her, as she tried to squirm away across the wet sand, her laughter high pitched. "You're killing my ass," she shrieked, so loudly that I looked around. Did we have an audience, here? Nope, the beach to ourselves.
"Stop! Stop! Ow!" Each cry an exhalation jolted from her.
"This is George's second come," explained Susan pedantically. "He's lasting much longer. And he's got that monster prick up Stephanie's tight ass. She's really getting reamed out!"
I saw Stephanie, face bent low to the sand, violently shaking her head. She wailed: "Noooo, George! Oh, shit, my asshole!"
Sandra began, "Do you think?"
"No one ever succumbed to butt fucking, Mom," said Susan smugly, obviously relishing the scene.
Sandra watched for another moment, frowning. "Wow, she's getting it, but good. I never wanted your Dad to do it. I let him, of course. But with lots of grease—and slowly!"
Stephanie was squealing, almost incoherent, now, panting and struggling, and George merciless, keeping her firmly nailed to the wet sand. "Well," said Sandra, uncertainly. "She's a big girl, I guess..."
For a moment, Stephanie broke free, and crawled up the beach on her elbows and knees, kicking at George behind her. But George had risen and lunged after her, landing with all his weight on her back, slamming her to the sand.
Then, in a moment, George was back in her ass, again, the thrusting relentlessly. I saw Stephanie's face fall, defeated, and her shoulders shaking. She made no further attempt to escape.
