Tom Proctor had only been with the printing company for a few months, so when the firm announced that their annual company picnic would be held at the home of the owner of the place, Tom knew that while he didn't want to spend a Saturday with the same people he worked with all week, it would be bad form to skip the event so he signed up.
When the 46 year old divorced man drove to the boss's house, it was everything he had expected, more like a mansion than a home, and while Tom thought it was tacky to rub your wealth in the face of the workers who helped make it possible, he didn't blame the guy. The house was beautiful and the food and beverages provided were top shelf. No hot dogs here but it was hard to beat mini filet's and shrimp cocktails for snacking.
There were about 50 employees there, and some brought guests but the yard was spacious and surrounded by wooded state land so it wasn't crowded. There was a huge swimming pool but Tom hadn't brought a suit. Some of the females in attendance had brought swimwear but as he noticed through careful observation most of them were past their prime. There were some teenagers swimming though, so the girls captured Tom's attention as he exchanged small talk with some of the people he knew.
One in particular caught Tom's eye, and while the girl with dirty blonde hair was rather skinny Tom enjoyed the way she kept having issues with her bathing suit, causing her to try and straighten out the bottom part of the one piece because hair, a few shades darker than was on her head, kept peeking out of the leg opening. Every time it happened Tom smiled, and as Tom recalled it seemed like the girl thought he was laughing at her because she would shoot him a dirty look.
Tom can tell the rest of the story...
*************
The blonde must have been having a bad day because besides the ill-fitting bathing suit, she was having problems with a geeky guy that must have been her boyfriend. I saw the guy trying to sneak into the woods with her but she resisted, and eventually the boy disappeared. At one point I found himself alone in a quiet corner of the deck and the blonde came up to me with a hint of fire in her eyes.
"How come you keep laughing at me, mister? Do I amuse you?" she asked, perhaps intentionally imitating Joe Pesci in Goodfellas, but I quickly corrected her.
"No - what's your name dear?" I asked.
"Brandy."
"Pretty name. I'm Tom. Well Brandy, I swear to you that I was not laughing at you, merely enjoying you struggling with your bathing suit."
"Oh. Yeah, it's a pain. I think it's getting too small on me," she confessed and then shrugged.
"I wasn't complaining, mind you Brandy, and it you were a little older I would tell you what I enjoyed most about your situation," I said.
"I'm 18," Brandy declared.
"Really? Well then, what i enjoyed most was then when the suit slid over some of your pubic hair peeked out," I confided. "I thought all 18 year old girls got rid of it these days."
"You sound like Eric. My boyfriend, or maybe ex-boyfriend."
"He doesn't approve? You're better off without him. As for me, the sight of these waxed bimbos turns me off. I enjoy women, not little girls," I announced. "I'm glad you didn't let him take you into the woods before."
"You saw that?" the teen giggled, and when I nodded Brandy blushed. "There's a secluded place back there and he wanted me to go back there with him to get him off."
"Hmm... this party isn't as dull as I thought. Maybe you can show me where that place is so after a few drinks if I get friendly with one of the fossils my age I'll know where to go."
"How old are you?"
"46."
"My old lady is dumping my Dad so maybe next year you two can hook up," Brandy suggested while pointing at a buxom woman across the way and then asked, "What are you grinning at now? Thinking about doing it with her?"
"Fantasizing about going back there with you," I confessed. "I'm sure your Mom' is a great lady but she wouldn't cause something like this."
As I spoke I nodded down to where the outrageous tent in my baggy khakis left no doubt as to my arousal. Brandy glanced down and did a classical double take before bursting out laughing.
"What have you got in your pants? A cucumber?"
"No, it's all me but it's your fault. You and your pubic hair."
"I don't believe it. A little old guy like you?"
"Believe. It's one of my few claims to fame. If you want to sneak back there in the woods I'd be glad to show you."
"And then what?" she challenged.
"That my dear Brandy, would be up to you. You could laugh I suppose. I've had that happen before."
"Why do I think you're messing around with my head? Like if I go back there you pull out a dildo and try to get my suit off."
"Not my style dear. I may be a little strange but I'm a gentleman."
"Um... do you think you'd be able to sneak a can or two of beer back there?"
"With the pocket room in these baggy things? Sure."
So Brandy gave me a general idea of where to go when I got back in the woods and said I should go around the front of the house so nobody saw us go back together, and right before she left she made something clear.
"You're just showing your dick to me, right?"
"He needs some fresh air anyway. That's fine, but maybe you'll change your mind."
I watched Brandy's little rump wiggle away, and while I knew it was a sad commentary on my life at that point, I was excited about this little adventure.
***
I managed to find my new friend after slogging through the muggy woods, and when I saw her sitting on a stump I flipped her a can of Stella which the nubile blonde caught deftly. Brandy snapped the brew open and took a little spray which probably felt good on her skin considering the humidity.
"It's like a jungle back here," I complained as Brandy drained probably half of the can before ceremoniously letting out a very loud belch which made me laugh, and she smiled when I took out three more cans of beer and put them on the stump.
"Gonna try and get me drunk?" she asked but I shook my head and cracked open one for myself.
