Cindy Becomes a Dancer

This is entirely a piece of fiction... one would think...

To catch you up, dear reader, Cindy, a 19 year old red-head college girl, former high school cheerleader, has a summer job at the beach tending one of many lemonade/soft drink kiosks in the shadows of one of the lifeguard stands. She's rooming with three other girls, who she discovers are all topless dancers at a local strip club. Cindy, who's no prude, got peer-pressured into sunning topless by the apartment pool yesterday, her first day in town. There she met Donnie, a summer lifeguard who is a beefy lacrosse coach in the winter months. Now, on to today's story!

I met with Bill at the warehouse promptly at 9:30 like he asked. I needed to sign some paperwork in the office -- all normal employment stuff -- and then I followed him for a 10-ish minute drive to the north end of the beach where my kiosk was located. He showed me where to park in the Condo parking lot where my car would be safe, and we walked to the kiosk. His assistant had already restocked the kiosk with drinks and ice and set up the umbrella and a small stool for me. Bill handed me my cash box, I pulled off my t-shirt, and I was ready to go.

To allay Bill's fears that I might be one of 'those girls' who use the kiosk to set up 'dangerous liaisons', I was wearing my most conservative mother-approved bikini, almost no makeup, my hair in a cheer-leader stereotype ponytail, a visor, and cheap sunglasses. I looked for all the world like the girl you'd hire to babysit your kids or walk your dog, but nothing more.

The kiosk was very near the lifeguard stand, which doubled as a stand to rent umbrellas and beach chairs. Two guys -- I assumed life guards -- were busy setting up and I hadn't paid them any attention. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted one of them walking my way, and my worst fear was coming true -- it was indeed Donnie. Of all of the lifeguard stands on this beach... Donnie had to be working at mine.

"Hey, Cindy! Lucky seeing you here! Good luck on your first day."

I started blushing. It was like a reverse walk-of-shame. Here was the hunky guy who'd met me while I was nearly naked by the pool yesterday, and now I had to work under his gaze for the next 8 hours. I tried to make the best of it, and said, "Yeah, thanks. You're working this one today?"

He nodded. "Yeah, like I said yesterday, they move me around to wherever they need a filler. Two lifeguards to the stand, one on duty for 2 hours and the other renting beach chairs. Then we reverse."

Yesterday, he'd been wearing skin-tight shorts that really accentuated his man-ass. Today, however, he was wearing a much more demure set of board shorts and a red tank top. Somehow he looked older today, although I was still pegging him at late 20's.

Just then, the other lifeguard came over, and Donnie said, "This is Carter, my accomplice for the day. Carter, this is Cindy. I met her yesterday. We're staying in the same apartment building."

Carter reached out to shake my hand, and the whole affair had the air of normalcy, like seeing a girl nearly naked the first time you meet her was something normal here. I guess if I was going to survive the summer, I was going to have to get used to a teeny bit of debauchery.

"Cindy. Great to meet you. Maybe I'll see you over at your apartment. I live near you in a house I rent with some other lifeguards." Then he turned to Donnie and said, "Hey, bro, you gotta invite me over sometime. No pool at my place. I'll bring the beers."

Carter hit me more like a college guy, but like Donnie, built like a brick wall with zero body fat. How exactly did these guys float well enough to swim?

Donnie said, "Well, gotta get back to work. If you have any problems, let me know. Do you have a whistle?"

"Whistle? No."

"I'll get you one. We have several spares. Great for calling for help if you need it. You should carry one all the time. I'll bring it back to you later. Otherwise, good luck."

I couldn't help but notice that neither Donnie nor Carter seemed to be looking me over, like girls in bikinis were the norm around here. Then again, yeah, it was the beach, so this is the norm. Instead, they would have stared if I'd been wearing a cocktail dress.

The day went along pretty simply. I had a tip jar on the counter, and Bill had recommended that I empty it regularly, leaving just a few dollars in it to give customers the hint. There was a little locking cabinet in the bottom of the kiosk where I could keep my beach bag and any tips I collected and lock up the cash box when I took a break.

Most of the morning went OK. Sales were slow, but Bill told me to expect that until the afternoon. I noticed a pattern emerging on the tips -- Moms tipped about a third of the time, and then usually just some change from her purse. Maybe a quarter on a five-dollar sale. Kids didn't tip at all. Dads (and I assume they were all Dads) usually bought more and tipped a lot more generously. By one o'clock, I'd been standing here for three hours and made maybe fifty bucks in sales and maybe five bucks in tips. Not much to show for it, but again, it was the slow time of day.

Donnie and Carter were working a different set of hours than me. My shift was 10 until 6, eight hours a day. When he and Carter swapped places, he came over and explained that they started work at 9am and worked until 7 -- ten hours a day, four days on and two days off. They could swap days with buddies if they needed to go somewhere, but the 10 hour shift was a legal thing set by the county. He said that the work was more boring than real, nothing like Baywatch, and setting up and renting chairs and umbrellas was the hard part. I asked him what he did when he got off work, and he said generally an hour in the weight room, then lay by the pool until sunset.

Bill came by about 1:30 to check on me and to remind me I was legally entitled to a 30 minute lunch break. I promised him I'd take one, and he said it was OK if I wanted to just eat at the kiosk and then go for a walk or lay in the sun for a while. However, in case the inspectors came by, he needed me to be seen taking a lunch break, and would prefer I take it before 2pm when business started picking up. I took the hint, and put out the 'back in 30 minutes' sign. I decided to use my break to walk around and go talk with (read: 'flirt with') Donnie and Carter.

When I went by, Carter was in the rental shack under the lifeguard stand and Donnie was up top-side. Carter was nice, although not as hot looking as Donnie. I could see myself dating either of them, if I was lucky enough. Judging from the professional girls back at the apartment, I had plenty of competition. Plus, summer girls seemed to outnumber summer boys by about three to one around here. Carter told me he was a Senior pre-med at Georgetown and on the swim team there. He told me he and Donnie had only met today, but he gathered that Donnie coached somewhere in the mid-Atlantic states.

Like Bill said, business picked up about 2pm. I'd brought a salad to eat, but barely had time to poke at it. Tips followed the same pattern as the morning. Bill's helper came by about 4:30 to empty my cash box, and told me to take the box back to the warehouse when I knocked off at 6. I could pick it up again in the morning. Today was Thursday, so I'd only work 2 days this week, but that was OK and it would give me more time to settle in.

I really didn't know how much I had in receipts all day. Everything was cash, and I never used the card reader on the cell phone he gave me. My tip jar was in pretty good shape, though -- nearly $100. With minimum wage, I'd clear about $130 per day, and if this kept up, over six hundred a week. Not bad, but not great either. My rent, including utilities, was about twelve hundred per month, and even with minimum living expenses (gas, food, some more clothes, laundry) I'd be lucky to clear $2000 for the summer. Again, better than picking up Dog poop, but nothing to get rich on.

After dropping off the cash box, I made it back to the apartment just before 7. The pool was nearly empty -- apparently all of my roomies were off dancing, hopefully making better tips than I did. I was dripping wet with sweat, so took a shower, made a mental note that I needed more bikinis if I was going to sweat that bad all day, and started thinking about what to wear to the pool. Normally, I'd put on a bikini and a wrap-around top and head down. However, I was feeling a little daring and seeing that topless was the norm here, opted for just a little side-tie bottom and a t-shirt I could pull off when I got to the pool. I loaded up my beach bad with some SPF, a book, and a couple of beers from the fridge, and headed down.

By the time I got there, Donnie was already doing laps. He pulled himself up on the side of the pool to ask how my day went, and I told him it was great. I told him how much I appreciated having a friend nearby, and thanked him again for the safety whistle. He pulled himself up out of the water just as I was sitting down and pulling off my t-shirt. He didn't even blink, as if topless girls were the norm in his world. He grabbed his towel, came over, and asked if he could join me. I said sure, and offered him one of my beers. He accepted, and said he'd go grab a couple more when these were done to repay he favor.

Donnie, as it turns out, was an ex-Navy pilot, who played lacrosse at the Academy and had just left the Navy to become a coach at college in Virginia. I jokingly told him my Dad warned me about sailors, and he said, "Good for your Dad. The stories are all true."

After a few minutes, I flipped over, and asked him if he could be a gentleman and do my back with the SPF. He mumbled something about being a gentleman only by act of Congress and gave my bare back a nice slathering. He continued on my shoulder, and then worked his way down my hips and thighs, making sure to avoid any of the more sensitive places. Even with that, this was the first time I'd been massaged by a man since I'd broken up with my last boyfriend, and certainly the first time I'd ever been massaged by a guy who so obviously knew what he was doing. I made a mental note that between the beers and my general hornyness, I needed to be careful of my virtue, lest I get a reputation too early in the summer. Little did I know that my virtue, such that it was, only had about another hour to go.

True to his word, after we'd downed the two beers I brough, he ran back to his apartment to fetch two more. I looked up from my recline to watch him run away -- a nice sight, for sure. I could feel myself getting moist in all the right places watching him. When he got back, I rolled back over on my back to give him a nice view of the territory and we toasted each other with our cans of beer. By then, the sun was beginning to set and I remembered that I hadn't had anything to eat all day other than a bowl of cereal and a light salad.

"You hungry, Donnie?"

"I could eat."

"We could go back to my place and order pizza."

"I'd do pizza. Sure."

"Plus, more beer there."

"Gotta be careful. You don't want to sell lemonade with a hangover."

We laughed, and I reached for my t-shirt. Donnie helped me pull it over my head, even though I don't know why I was bothering to wear it. We headed to my apartment, which I knew would be empty until after midnight at least, and put in a call for a pizza delivery. Apparently this was the bad time, so I was told at least 45 minutes. Sigh... anyway, we hit he beer supply again. I put on some music and we sat on the sofa and just started talking about everything and nothing at all.

Naturally, clumsy me, I spilled half my beer right down the front of my t-shirt. Donnie jumped up to grab a towel from the kitchen, and I pulled off the shirt, oblivious to the fact that I was naked underneath. In a flash, Donnie was back with two towels, one damp and one dry, and cleaned the beer off from between my naked boobs. This was again some attention I'd been missing for a couple of months, since my ex- (what was his name again?) had decided to flunk out of his football scholarship (mental note: how do you do that?).

The rest of it was a bit of a blur. One moment, we're sitting facing one another on the sofa, Donnie gently cleaning up my klutsy-ness. The next moment, I'm the one doing mouth-to-mouth on a lifeguard. Again... blur.

I vaguely remember the kissing went on for a bit, and sometime in there, Donnie's hands were firmly but gently giving me a very welcomed and overdue breast exam. I reciprocated on his rippled chest, which was every bit as rocky as I had imagined. I felt Donnie reaching down toward my ass, and pulling me into his lap. His hands on my ass were sending tinglings I hadn't felt in a while, and I reciprocated by reaching down to the waistband of his loose board shorts.

Somehow, before I knew what was happening, I found myself sliding down onto the floor between his knees. This wasn't my usual first-date scenario, but between the beer and the general atmosphere of debauchery, it seemed to be the right thing to do at the time. I pulled his shorts off down to the floor, and found myself facing the most magnificent cock I'd seen outside of a renaissance art museum. It was huge. I couldn't imagine that any girl could accommodate this thing and still walk the next day. I was struck with exactly how I was going to get my mouth around it, but I knew I was going to try, one way or the other.

Donnie seemed to sense my reluctance and helped guide his cock toward my mouth. He was gentle, my guess coming from experience, and didn't try to force the issue but let me take my time and enjoy my appetizer. We were alone, with the sun setting through the balcony door, and plenty of time to enjoy ourselves.

Donnie's cock had the faint taste of chlorine from the pool, not bad at all, but clearly in need of my attention and cleaning. I licked him all over, and got him good and wet for the main course. By then, my jaw was relaxed, and I tried fitting as much of his head and shaft as I could into my mouth, but it was a struggle, for sure.

Now, I'm not the worlds most experienced cock sucker. In fact, this is only the first or second cock I've ever had cum in my mouth. (Maybe... Once my boyfriend over spring break may or may not have finished in my mouth... I'm still not sure about that time... we were drunk... anyway...) But, I was absolutely positive I was hungry for this one, and I couldn't wait to swallow him down.

Turns out, he was pretty anxious to loosen his load as well. I think I only had his cock head in my mouth for a half minute or so before I felt him start to quiver and shake and spasm, then my mouth was flooded with my warm, salty reward.

Like I say, this is only my first or second, but I've done a few handjobs and even watched a guy jerk off, so I know that different guys cum different ways. Some spurt like a machine gun, and others just ooze. Donnie was an 'oozer' but he 'oozed' what seemed like a gallon. (OK, I know it's only a couple of tablespoons, but yeah, it seems like a gallon when its filling your already full mouth.) I let him finished, feeling the warm elixir blend with my own saliva, and then swallowed him down. When he finished, I left him in my mouth so I could feel his warm, spent cock relax and grow soft again. A couple of drops leaked out, and I let them spill down onto my naked chest.

Donnie fell back on the sofa, spent, and I leaned back on my haunches, kinda proud of myself for what I'd done to this athletic lifeguard hunk. I knew I was going to regret not having him fuck me, because now I was going to need furiously hump my pillow later tonite with he left, or else I'd be on pins and needles all day tomorrow.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. What a perfect time for pizza! Donnie yelled, "I'm coming", which was an ironic hoot. I jumped up and ran to my bedroom to get a fresh t-shirt. When I came out, Donnie was paying the delivery guy and I started grabbing some paper plates and a couple more cold beers.

When Donnie turned around with the pizza, he had the most contented smile on his face, so much that I almost wanted to fall to my knees and blow him again. However, I was also hungry, and there was pizza!