Rhonda's Beach Bungalow

It was a bad breakup.

It was the kind that cut deep, the type that was going to take some time to get over.

Abigail thought she and Stew would be together the whole rest of the year, go to the prom, party it up together at Senior Week.

In all of her 18 years, she had never felt pain like this.

To make it worse, just to twist the knife even more, Stew had fallen for Abigail's best friend, Lucy.

So there was nowhere to turn. Abigail's boyfriend had dumped her, and her best friend, in her mind, had betrayed her.

As the weekend drew closer, Abigail Summers - an honor student and standout member of both the Spanish and French Clubs - grew more and more withdrawn. Her days remaining at Alfred Ely Beach High School were dwindling, and she was glad.

She just wanted to get away.

****************

"I still don't know about this," Claire said to her daughter.

"Mom, Rhonda's your best friend. She's not gonna let me get into any kind of trouble," Abigail insisted as she brushed her shoulder-length, brown hair while nervously chewing on a piece of Hubba Bubba.

"It's not you I'm worried about," Claire insisted. "It's Rhonda. She's a little...out there."

"Pff," was her daughter's response. "Mom, you've known her since YOU guys went to high school, which was like a million years ago..."

"Watch it, young lady," her mom teased.

The two heard the front door open. It was Rhonda, whooshing in like Hurricane Allison.

"Ready for a fun weekend?" she asked excitedly.

****************

It's not often that a car perfectly fits someone's personality.

But Rhonda's fluorescent-green Geo Tracker seemed to be a perfect match for her spunky and plucky demeanor.

Once 91.5 FM played its third straight 'Hootie and the Blowfish' song, Rhonda decided to make use of her cassette deck.

"Hand me that, sweetie," she asked of her passenger, gesturing to the shoebox full of cassette tapes.

While keeping the Tracker humming along Route 80, Rhonda rifled through a music collection that varied from 'Janis Joplin' to 'Radiohead.'

"Coolio?" Rhonda asked as the two sped closer and closer to Tybee Island.

"Sure," Abigail said.

"Fantastic Voyage" blasted in the Tracker and perfect sunshine broke through the Savannah clouds. There was no traffic at all.

The weekend seemed to be fast approaching.

****************

The Geo pulled up into the driveway and came to a stop.

"Sweetie," Rhonda began, reaching over and holding the girl's hand, "that really sucks about you and Stew."

"Yeah, it's...It's just, everything was fine. We were still saying the 'I love you's' to each other and talking about the summer...Then that week, he was really distant. And Friday morning..."

That's all she could muster. The charming, darling brunette burst into tears.

"Aw, sweetie, it's okay," Rhonda sympathized. "It happens to all of us."

She hugged her young friend and tried to offer as much advice as she could.

"Hey, the point of this weekend is to get your mind off of things, okay? And maybe open a few new doors," Rhonda said as the two got out of the car and began to head inside to Rhonda's cozy, seaside bungalow.

"I like your skirt," Abigail said as she dried her tears, now a bit more composed.

"Isn't it great?" Rhonda asked as she twirled around, making her flowing, ankle-length, tai-dai garment roll gracefully. "I got it at 'Dunes and Tunes.'"

Abigail, meanwhile, dressed provocatively in a pair of tight, white shorts, was showing off a lot more leg. She just hoped she could get them nice and tan this weekend. She looked so pale, and it fit her mood. She wanted things to brighten up.

****************

"Thought the beach would be the perfect start to the weekend," Rhonda said as the two slowly made their way to a good spot, trudging through the hot sand.

"This is...not the same beach we came to last time though," Abigail noticed as the two found a nice, flat spot to lay their towel and set up the umbrella.

Rhonda giggled.

"No, it isn't," she simply replied.

They set up their beach chairs and reclined. Rhonda pulled a four-pack of Bartles and Jaymes Mojitos out from her bag while Abigail opened up to page 43 of 'Lies My Teacher Told Me,' where she last left off.

"Hey, no reading," Rhonda objected as she took a big, healthy sip. "This weekend's about fun."

"Well...what are we supposed to?" Abigail objected, tugging the waste of her baby-blue one piece.

"Just relax," Rhonda insisted. "The scenery will be arriving soon..."

****************

The beach slowly started to fill up.

Now onto her second Mojito, Rhonda noted that the two had picked a good spot, right in the middle of everything.

There was Frisbee throwing, there were footballs being thrown about, a few kites being flown.

Rhonda put on her tan, oversized sunglasses while Abigail put her hair back in a royal blue headband, as the gentle winds had picked up a bit.

Suddenly, Abigail saw something out of the corner of her eye, something that didn't quite fit. And now she made it the point of focus.

It was jarring.

"Ummmmmmm," she gasped. "Is that guy nude?"

She pointed. Rhonda casually glanced over at the man Abigail made mention of. He was walking about along the edge of the water.

Before Rhonda could even acknowledge her friend's discovery, Abigail and her lovely brown eyes spotted something else.

"Oh my God, there's another one," she noticed. She said 'another one' as if she were speaking of some kind of species in the wild.

It was another naked beachgoer.

"He's naked too," she marveled.

"Aaaaaahhhhhhhh, and another one," she said, now seemingly surrounded by nude men.

Rhonda simply chuckled.

Abigail began to put the pieces together.

"Wait a minute...are we at a nude beach?" she could hardly believe.

"Clothing optional," Rhonda corrected her, leaning back casually in her chair.

"Oh...my God," Abigail said, shocked.

"At least you'll have a few stories to tell about what you did over the weekend," Rhonda said with a wide grin.

****************

The two continued to relax in the sun.

They munched on Fritos and sipped their drinks - Mojito for Rhonda, orange juice for Abigail.

They also counted the number of naked men they saw.

"This is ca-razy," the honor student said, as fear and apprehension slowly gave way to whimsy and wonder.

"Thought you would get a kick out of this," Rhonda exclaimed. "I come here all the time. It's a real trip."

There were a few topless women here and there, but the number of naked men far outnumbered the number of nude gals.

Rhonda began to chat with more and more people. She knew them by name. A seagull crept up to their blanket, stealing a half-empty bag of Fritos.

Rhonda and Abigail didn't seem to even notice. They were too busy looking all around them.

"So...aren't you glad I brought you here? Get your mind off things? Get your mind off breakups and proms and all that sort of thing?" she asked her young friend.

"My mom said you were 'out there,'" Abigail laughed.

"She said that?" Rhonda fired back with a chuckle. "Oh, your mom can be such a square! Hon, I love her to death but she needs to loosen up..."

Abigail decided to go for a walk. She slowly scaled the dunes, pacing back along the boardwalk, glancing up at Shelby's Pizza, Krendy Krafts, and a tiny, two-screen movie theatre.

"While You Were Sleeping" and "A Goofy Movie" were playing.

When Abigail's soft, tiny feet began to hurt from the hot sand, she decided to make it back to the blanket.

She saw that Rhonda, still seated comfortably, was talking to a man. And he was bare-ass naked. He had his back to Abigail.

She laughed, thinking this is gonna be one heck of a weekend.

"Cute butt," she also said to herself.

The brunette walked over and retreated back into her chair.

"Oh, Abigail, this is Jim," Rhonda said casually.

Abigail was a bit startled by something.

She shook hands with Jim, but could hardly speak a word.

"Jim works for the parks department. Plus, he's a volunteer over at the Tybee Island Fire Department," Rhonda explained.

"Oh, neat-oh," Abigail mustered.

'Did I just say neat-oh?' she wondered to herself.

"Now what were you telling me, about...cross lays?" Rhonda pondered aloud, putting her sunglasses back on.

"Cross lays are like, eh, 200 feet long, have a diameter of, oh, about one and a half inches," he informed, holding his fingers that far apart to illustrate. "And they can gush water at 95 gallons per minute..."

"Wo-ho, boy," Rhonda exclaimed. "That is a lot."

"I mean, for smaller fires, such as small wood fires or chimney fires, the small booster line is adequate," Jim instructed further, leaning on one leg now, casual as can be. "A booster line is the smallest hose on the truck and has a diameter of about one inch."

Abigail was still in a stupor. She was fading in and out, caught completely off guard by something.

"Ab, Jim was telling me all about the fire company before you came back. I was testing his knowledge," she kidded.

"You okay, Ab?"

She was startled back into the moment.

"Oh, yeah, yeah, I'm...fine," she said.

"Well, Jimbo, it was great seeing you," Rhonda told her male visitor.

"Yeah, lemme know about the party on the 28th," he said, departing.

"I will, I will," she assured him.

"Nice meeting you, Abigail," he shouted over the sounds of the crashing waves.

"Nice...meeting," she could hardly reply.

Rhonda glanced over at her friend, with a bemused grin.

Abigail looked stupefied. Rhonda burst into laughter.

Again, she waited for the 18-year-old to produce some kind of remark.

"Um...that was...kinda big," she finally mustered.

"Kinda?!" was Rhonda's retort. "I think Big Jim would be disappointed if he heard you attached 'kinda' to the description."

The brunette decided to be even more forthright.

"That's the biggest penis I have ever seen," she admitted wholeheartedly. "Like, seriously...what the fuck?!"

Her carrying on only made Rhonda more amused.

"It's a doozy," Rhonda agreed.

"I couldn't even process anything being said. I was so distracted. I was like, 'holy crap, giant penis!'" Abigail went on.

Rhonda simply clapped and fell back in her seat having a good laugh.

"I have known Jim for seven, eight years? And yeah, it's..."

"Did you guys date?" Abigail asked.

"No," she said lightheartedly, "just friends. Just casual acquaintances.

"He's here a lot," she pressed on. "And we frequent a lot of the same parties. Swirl around the same social circles (laugh)."

Abigail didn't know what else to say at the moment. She was speechless.

"In fact, I'll call him back over. Jim," she called out.

"No, don't," Abigail said, at first rejecting the idea.

"Don't be silly. Jim? Jim. Jim!" Rhonda persisted, finally getting the young man's attention.

He walked over to the towel briskly, his long, lumbering penis swinging haphazardly from side to side. It made Abigail blush and Rhonda crack up even more.

"Hey, big guy, tell Abigail where you're from," she insisted, crossing her legs.

"As I show off my thunder thighs," Rhonda added, her full-bodied form being shown off nicely in a modest, tan one-piece bathing suit.

"Thunder thighs? Sexiest thighs on the beach, I'll say," Jim gushed.

"C'mon, goofball, tell Abigail where you're from," Rhonda went on, her long, brown locks blowing casually in the breeze.

She had to pull her hair back from over her eyes.

"Edge Hill," he announced with a bit of pride. "Population: 19."

"Oh for goodness sake," Abigail laughed. "That's a small town."

The tall, muscular gentleman, with a neatly-shaven head, nodded in agreement.

"It's the smallest incorporated city in Georgia by population," he said.

"Jim was a big fish in a small pond," Rhonda explained. "Star football player - "

"Until I blew out my knee," he said, gesturing to it.

Any time Abigail had an open invitation to glance at his lower half, it simply made her blush even more. Everything was so up close.

The three continued to chat, but when the conversation ran out of momentum, Rhonda playfully ordered him away.

"Okay, you can go," she told Jim, waving her hand just a bit.

He laughed.

"You two have fun," he told them.

"Oh, we will," she replied.

A remix of "One More Chance/Stay with Me" by "Notorious B.I.G." sounded from a boombox nearby, adding to the party-type, loose atmosphere.

Rhonda leaned in closer to her friend.

"Everyone calls him 'The Big Cock From Little Rock,'" she laughed, as the conversation about Jim's massive equipment became more and more candid. "But it's really a misnomer. He grew up in Little Rock but was born in George. Then moved back later."

She paused for a few moments.

"But it's definitely a big cock," she said clearly.

Abigail laughed out of nervousness.

Rhonda called him back.

"Rhonda, I'm gonna kill you," Abigail replied, her objections growing weaker and weaker.

Jim was a greater distance away this time, so it took longer for him to reach their towel.

"God, that thing really swings and flops," Abigail marveled, observing Jim's free-spirited member.

"It does. It really does. It's understandable given there's an awful lot of heft to it," Rhonda laughed. "It's, um, pendulous, I guess is the right word (laugh)."

When he finally reached their towel, Rhonda casually went into more chit-chat.

"Jim, darling, tell Abigail the story you told me a few weeks back," Rhonda offered. "Ab, hon, Jim's a big Civil War buff..."

"Oh, oh, oh, yeah," Jim answered, standing in between the two women, leaning comfortably on one leg, his hands folded behind him. "Well it's CNN's story but I'll tell it the best I can...

"It's just an obscure story from the war. Okay, here goes...The Confederacy's image, ya know, hinged on the notion that the rebellious states made up a unified, stable nation," he explained, like he was giving a lecture. "But, the hard times of war exposed just how much disunity there was in Dixieland.

"You see, civilians in both the North and South had to cope with scarcity and increased food prices, but the food situation was especially horrible in the South because outcomes on the battlefield were directly linked to the CSA's currency. Rising food prices were frickin hard enough to deal with without wild fluctuations in what the money in your pocket could buy.

"Needless to say, invading northern troops poured salt on the wounds of scarcity, burning crops and killing livestock.

"But in Richmond, Virginia, those who couldn't afford the increasingly pricey food blamed the Confederate government.

"Hungry protesters, most of whom were women, led a march 'to see the governor' in April 1863 that quickly turned violent."

"Really," Abigail interjected.

"I mean, they overturned carts, smashed windows, and drew out Governor John Letcher and President Jefferson Davis," Jim went on, using his hands to illustrate his point, shifting his body, and in affect, make certain things move about with a life all their own.

"Davis (laugh), he threw money at the protesters, trying to get them to clear out, but the violence continued. So, he threatened to order the militia to open fire, which settled things down pretty quickly," Jim relayed to the two.

"Get outta town," Abigail raved, noticing Jim couldn't help but glance upon her long, tanning limbs.

"Yeah, I'm serious," Jim countered.

Civil War chatter went on for a few more minutes until Jim took a stroll back down to the water.

Abigail glanced over at Rhonda with a wry grin.

"I hate you," she uttered.

Rhonda broke into unbridled laughter.

"You should have seen the look on your face," she said.

"But isn't it a trip though? Having a casual conversation with a fully-naked man, especially one as endowed as Jimbo?" she asked with tremendous enthusiasm.

"It is," Abigail had to admit.

Jim had made his way back to the towel without being called. Waves crashed up on shore, music blared and people partied around them. It allowed for more intimate conversation, given no one else outside their tight, little group was going to hear a thing.

"Jim, sweetie, Abigail here couldn't get over how big your penis is," Rhonda said so casually and effortlessly, the words spilling out of her mouth like molasses.

"Rhonda?!" Abigail recoiled, albeit with a nervous chuckle.

"Well, come on? We can talk about it. It's a big, honking penis," Rhonda observed, in effect giving Abigail permission to stare at it without any objection.

"Eh, I'm hung like a baby," he kidded, pausing for effect. "Eight pounds, three ounces..."

"Bbbffff," Rhonda snorted, cracking up.

Jim swiveled his hips, making his huge wiener roll about, the action met with giddy laughter and finger pointing.

"In Spanish, I would say 'Es muy grande,'" Abigail kidded, finding a practical use for her trilingual tongue.

"How about French?" Rhonda tested her.

"Oh, um...C' est enorme," she was able to get out before bending over in tickled hysterics.

Jim just kept rolling his hips from side to side, his rather prodigious schlong a punchline in and of itself.

"Tell her how big it is," Rhonda persisted, as it became apparent it was a topic she and Jim had previously discussed.

"Uh, well, soft, I'm seven inches," he provided. "And then - "

"How bout when your ladder is fully extended?" Rhonda quipped with a grin.

"Eleven inches," he answered.

"That IS a big penis," was Abigail's retort, her response that of amazement and amusement.

"One inch short of a foot, God damn it," he laughed.

"Well, an 11-inch penis is nothing to sneeze at," Rhonda laughed, playfully understating the uniqueness of Jim's endowment.

"I had no idea they grew that big," Abigail remarked, as Jim went back to making his penis roll about, extenuating its tremendous length and girth.

Abigail's wide-eyed sense of discovery made Rhonda titter with delight.

"It's so big soft. That is what's remarkable," Rhonda chuckled, all talk and all attention now focused squarely on Jimbo's monster dick. "Jim, show her all the things you can do with it..."

"It hangs down so far," Abigail had no trouble saying.

He flopped it around for them, each time ushering in a chorus of bawdy laughter and claps. He then emphatically made it swing side to side, so much so that is smacked against his outer thighs.

The laughter intensified.

In essence, Jim treated the two ladies to 20 minutes or so of soft-dick tricks.

"You swing me right round, baby right round, like a record baby..." Rhonda sang jokingly as Jim frantically helicoptered his humongous wang.

Abigail could hardly believe what she was seeing.

Rhonda tugged at the top of her bathing suit, her ample bosoms bouncing just a bit.

"Why don't we turn on the gas? Let's all take a stroll to a much more secluded spot," suggested the macramé expert with a wild side.

****************

They trudged over one of the biggest dunes on the beach, traversing a lot of broken sea shells and making their way into a deserted, shady area.

"Jim, sweetie, why don't you play with it for us? Let Abigail see your prized peacock at its fullest potential," urged the buxom brunette.

Abigail had no objections. Curiosity and arousal had overcome her. She could tell this would be a moment she would long remember and revisit many times in her mind.

Jim began to stroke his cock, at first playing with it until it was sturdy enough to enforce long, timely strokes.

It grew to an astounding length.

"Take your hands away," Rhonda instructed. "Let her see..."

Abigail gasped as he did so. Jim's dick extended out before him like the Talmadge Memorial bridge. Or...