Boner-Roo Beach - the Resident Milf

I'd spent my summers as a lifeguard for Bonnaroo Beach Patrol for years, but at no time had anyone ever caused a stir quite like Sophia.

Sophia and her husband and school-age kids had bought the recently-vacated Donovan home two summers earlier and were only at the shore during the season and mostly kept to themselves. So even though Bonnaroo was a pretty tight-knit community with a large proportion of families that lived here year-round (mine being one of them), no one knew much about them.

But that certainly didn't stop the new residents - and Sophia in particular - from being the hottest topic of conversation for the 3rd season running.

"Jesse, good to see you home! How's college? What are you, a senior now?" Mrs. Benzinger, my neighbor from down the street, waved to me from her beach chair as I strolled back onto the sand after my lunch break.

I smiled politely and tried to pretend I didn't notice her checking out my toned arms and tight abs. She reminded me a bit too much of my own mom to think of her in any other way, though clearly she had taken note that the once-little-boy down the street had firmly landed in "man* territory.

"Junior in the fall," I replied, keeping my eyes trained to hers to make sure I didn't accidentally give off any signals that might encourage her undesired attentions to move beyond the friendly.

After all, Mrs. Benzinger wasn't the only woman who had noticed the 3 inches of height and 30 lbs of muscle my hormones had apparently decided it was time to pack on over the past 8 months. The girls at my university kept me plenty busy with... extracurriculars.

"It's going well, keeping my grades up, doing club water polo to maintain my training when I'm away from the beach. Good to see you, too. Have a great afternoon!"

I quickly scurried away, feeling her eyes on my back as I walked towards the guard tent - or, more likely, on my backside.

Something fluttering in the breeze caught my attention out the corner of my eye. It took only one glance at the straw of Sophia's signature oversized hat for what felt like all the blood in my body to rush from my head and extremities straight to my dick. I took a deep breath and tried to focus on something else so I wouldn't get a hard-on in front of the entire beach.

But, boy, did Sophia make it difficult. She was laying on her back on a blue printed oversized Turkish towel, propped on her elbows as she motioned with her head towards her beach bag, directing one of her kids who seemed to be asking for a snack or something.

Her long, shapely tanned legs were stretched out in front of her, leading to a white one-piece swimsuit with cutouts that somehow looked scandalous even though she technically was more covered than the 19 year old two blankets over in a thong bikini. (Is that even legal? I wondered for a split second before Sophia promptly reclaimed my attention.)

Her swimsuit was cut low into a deep v-neck, exposing the inviting swells of her round, glistening breasts, my throat drying as I couldn't help but wonder if they were as soft and squeezable as they looked. Fuckkkkk... How could tits look like that after three kids? Some of the guys had a bet going over whether they were real or not. But I was certain those were all natural - it just didn't fit her "vibe" to be the plastic surgery type, in my opinion.

Her hat fluttered in the breeze again and she reached up to grab the broad brim before it flew away. Her face was momentarily bathed in sunlight, and her bright blue eyes practically glowed against her golden tan and sun-streaked hair. Perfect beachy waves tumbled around her athletic but feminine shoulders as she adjusted her hat and I was just retracing the sweep of her generous curves back down her body when a jolt to my shoulder almost sent me tumbling to the sand.

I staggered forward, catching my balance, and looked up to find our captain, Hank, smirking back at me with a knowing gleam in his eyes. Hank was a good 15 or so years older than me, in his late 30s and married, but that didn't make him blind. He knew better than to say anything, though, with his wife sitting a few umbrellas away. "Ready for shift, JJ? You're on South Chair with Nate," he called over his shoulder at me as he headed towards the North Chair on the other side of the beach.

Nathan, my best friend, sidled up next to me and handed me my towel. "Thought you might need that," he winked and razzed my hair. "Fuck you," I laughed, while gratefully draping the towel over my arm to strategically cover the obvious bulge in my crotch. I groaned. I wasn't a teenager anymore - when would I finally have some control over this thing?

Reading my thoughts - as he had a habit of doing after nearly 20 years of friendship, almost our entire lives - Nate squeezed my shoulder consolingly and under his breath added, "Hey, we don't call it Boner-roo for nothing."

I snorted and shook my head as we climbed up the chair, my dick finally calming down enough that I could place the towel under me instead of over my lap.

"So, I see you got a load of Ms. Loren today," Nathan started once we'd settled in and gotten our eyes trained on the water. "Ms. Loren" was the guards' nickname for Sophia, given her striking resemblance to the Italian film star and icon of sex appeal. "Actually, you're still drooling."

I punched him lightly on the shoulder... and discreetly wiped my mouth, just in case.

I glanced over to Sophia's towel, the sun gleaming off her limbs in the most mouthwatering way. "What IS it about her, man?" I pondered aloud.

She certainly wasn't the fittest woman on the beach. There were tons of good-looking babes around my own age, with perky breasts and round asses, and perfectly smooth skin, everywhere you looked, half of them practically naked other than a couple tiny slips of cloth (Boner-roo, remember?).

But for some reason, I - and every other hot blooded male on that beach - couldn't keep my eyes off her. I'd banged plenty of smokin' hot girls at college, and even a few regulars on this very beach, but despite being older, softer in the middle and thicker in the thighs, and surrounded by offspring of an age that it wasn't beyond the realm of possibility in another world could have been my younger siblings, none of those girls, and certainly none of the other women on this beach, could hold a candle to Sophia.

She was just... magnetic. Something about the lithe way she moved, the way her swimsuits and hats and barely-there "cover-ups" just oozed glamour as if she'd stepped out of a magazine or something, even the way she interacted with her kids, lovingly, playfully, but always firmly in command. The woman just exuded confidence.

And that was it, I guess: she was a woman, not a girl. She strutted around like she owned the place, and instead of being obnoxious like it would feel coming from a chick my age, it was HOT. I couldn't help it - I wanted to worship at the altar of Sophia. We all did.

The wind had picked up and all the swimmers had exited the water, so Nathan was also stealing glances at Sophia behind his polarized sunglasses. "You think she fucks?" he asked, eyes trained on her ample asscheeks now that she'd rolled over onto her stomach.

"What?" I laughed. "Uhh, I don't how you missed this in 8th grade health class, but believe it or not, that's how babies are made and those three kids playing nearby belong to her, so..."

He elbowed me in the ribs, which I suppose I deserved. "Not her husband, dipshit. Other guys. You think I have a chance at slipping it in that glorious ass?"

I chuckled. That ass truly was magnificent, especially emphasized by her snatched midsection, which the swimsuit was doing an admirable job of showing off. Her waist was so small, the proportions were mind boggling. I literally thought curves like that could only be achieved in Photoshop.

"In your dreams," I teased.

"Literally, bro," he retorted with a moan. "Every fucking night. My mom's going to notice soon if I keep having to change my sheets."

"Gross!" I guffawed. But truly, I couldn't blame him. I'd learned the hard way that if I didn't blow a load (or two) thinking about those incredible tits bouncing in my face while she rode my cock into oblivion, I would also wake up blissful but sticky.

Sophia reached back to adjust her suit, snapping the hemline against her butt and sending a mouthwatering ripple across her caramel flesh. Nathan's jaw involuntarily dropped, just the slightest bit, but enough to be noticable. "Ugh, that's just cruel," he groaned, his voice dropping an octave.

"Yup," I concurred, swallowing the rush of saliva that had coated my tongue.

Nate shook himself out of his stupor and glanced back at the guard tent behind us. A mischievous grin spread across his face. "Looks like Ericson is out," he laughed.

It was stupid but we couldn't help but be entertained: some of the junior guards had created a "challenge" to see who could go the longest *without* gracing Bonnaroo Beach with a Sophia-induced boner. We weren't even 3 weeks into the season and already all the junior guards had lost and half of us veterans, too. The captain, Hank, pretended he didn't overhear our shenanigans but I knew he'd braved several "challenges" of his own in the summers of his youth; I had a hunch he was secretly participating in this one as well.

"She's totally eye-fucking him right now," Nathan muttered with more than a tinge of envy.

It was hard to see over that damn hat, but I followed the general direction of Sophia's gaze, and sure enough, she appeared to be focused on the captain, who had climbed down the chair and was whistling and gesticulating at some tweens who were inching out of the swim zone. His deep, glowing skin and ripped muscles glinted in the sunlight with every sweep of his forearm

Nate turned to me and lifted his shades. "Do you think he's banging her?" he asked.

"What? No way, Hank is married," I replied. But I couldn't quite argue with Nate when he raised his eyebrows in challenge and dropped his shades back down onto his nose bridge.

Who WOULDN'T jump on the opportunity to tap that, if you were blessed with the option to do so? Frankly, I didn't understand how her husband wasn't walking around continuously buried balls deep in her sweet cunt, both to stake his claim and just to rub his good fortune in the rest of the male half of the planet's face. (And, let's be real here, probably a good chunk of the female population as well. Fuck, erection incoming, abort thoughts.) Honestly, no one would blame him if he did.

But something told me that not only was her husband NOT regularly staking his claim, but this was something she took personal offense to. Sophia was clearly a woman who needed to be good and thoroughly fucked, I could just feel it. No woman who dripped sex and sensuality like this woman did could possibly be satisfied by one man. She wasn't any normal woman - more like some kind of goddess, it sometimes felt.

And right now, much to the dismay of my obviously delusional best friend, that deity of filthy fucking carnal delight had her gorgeous baby blues trained on our head guard...

To be continued in Part 2.