It was going to be a long weekend. With Monday as a gazetted public holiday I had three days in which to do nothing, and that's what I intended to do. I was going to just relax, bum around the house, maybe work on the car and maybe play on the internet.
I was completely unsuspicious when my mother asked if I had anything planned for the weekend.
"Nope," I said happily. "Just one long bludge."
"Ah, that's good, dear," my mother said, all smiles. "So you'll actually be home all the time."
"Effectively," I said, suspecting nothing.
"Good, good. So that means you'll be available if required. Not that I expect to require anything from you."
"Sure," I said absent-mindedly. "Available if required, that's me."
About then the first twinge of suspicion hit me.
"Ah, what are your intentions for the weekend," I asked.
"Oh, I thought you knew," mum said. "Your father and I are playing in the local golf tournament. We'll effectively be on the course all weekend."
And out of my hair. They wouldn't be asking me to run little errands if they were on the golf course. I heartily approved of competitions that took the parents away and let me relax.
"Well, good luck on the tournament. The way you've been playing you should have a fair shot at winning this year."
"I know, but Margaret will give me some stiff competition."
The only Margaret that I had ever heard my mother refer to in regards to golf was Margaret Donaldson. She would be here for a local tournament, surely?
"Um, do you mean Margaret Donaldson?"
"That's right," said mum cheerfully. "She and Ted are playing this year. They'll be staying with us for the weekend."
That was reasonable. The parents had been close friends with the Donaldson's since forever. Where else would they stay if they were down for the tournament. We had a couple of spare bedrooms now that my younger sister had turned eighteen and moved out to go to college.
Then the trap closed around me, and I hadn't even seen it coming.
"It's nice that you'll be home all weekend. You'll be company for Marlene."
I took a deep breath and waited for the shock and the incipient panic attack to die down. Marlene is the Donaldson's daughter. She was nineteen, same as me, but where I'm a relatively nice guy who gets on with people, the same couldn't be said for Marlene.
What could be said for Marlene was that she was a supercilious, arrogant, toffee-nosed, gold-plated bitch, who made it her life's work to tread on anyone she found inferior to her superior self. As far as I could tell, that meant everyone.
Oh, I don't mean to say that she'd be rude to my parents. They were friends of her parents, therefore acceptable. Me, on the other hand, I was less than the dirt beneath her feet, and she was willing to let me know it. Willing, hell. She insisted that I know it.
I have learned to make a point of being elsewhere when Marlene is around. Now I was stuck with her as a house-guest and I was expected to look after her.
"Won't she want to go to the tournament and watch you play?" I asked hopefully.
No such luck. Marlene didn't particularly like golf. I couldn't even make a rude comment about that, because my mother knows that I don't like it either.
The Donaldson's arrived later that evening. Ted and Margaret are nice. I get on well with them. Their only real fault is that they spoil Marlene rotten. Ted and Margaret smiled and greeted me. Marlene sneered and barely acknowledged my existence.
Everything went reasonably well until the oldies departed for their tournament the next morning. Up until the Marlene had been sweetness and light while still managing to ignore me. As soon as the parents left, the virago emerged.
Marlene waltzed around the house, trailing mess behind her. Naturally, I had to clean it up. I couldn't leave it until mum got home. She'd be disappointed in me. A powerful weapon that.
Also Marlene ever asked for anything. She would demand, treating me as her personal servant, and a not too bright one, at that. She was condescending and scornful.
By the time we'd had lunch I was quietly seething. I'd have enjoyed the lunch I'd made if it hadn't been for Marlene. Actually, I did enjoy the food. It was the company that was the pits. I decided that the next time Marlene was due to stay I'd say hang the expense and hire a butler and a chef. They at least get paid to take the abuse and general rudeness.
The last straw came early in the afternoon. It was a really nice day, hot and cloudless with a slight breeze taking the edge off the heat. Marlene wandered out to the backyard, spread a towel and sunbathed.
When I came out into the yard later I saw her there, skimpy little bikini, stretched out soaking up the sun. Her top, I noticed, was untied.
Now while deploring the woman's personality, I can't say the same for her figure. It was sensational, and that bikini she was nearly wearing showed it of magnificently. Even so, I would have left her alone if she hadn't snapped her fingers and beckoned me over as if I was a busboy.
"I need some water," she snapped. "Go and get me some."
I looked at her, shrugged and turned to do as instructed. We had several bottles of cold water of the fridge. I grabbed one of those and took it out to her.
Standing over her I uncapped the bottle and tipped it upside down. Cold water cascaded down, drenching Marlene. She was not impressed.
She screamed and bounced to her feet and, I noticed with approval, her breasts kept on happily bouncing after she'd stopped. She was yelling at me, totally unconscious of her breasts merry bouncing as she yelled and waved her arms about. I suspect that she'd forgotten that she'd untied her bikini top and I certainly wasn't going to remind her.
As far as I was concerned the whole affair was totally worth it, including the fallout if she complained to my mother.
Finally Marlene noticed that I wasn't so much listening to her tell me off, but watching something. She looked down and found out what I was watching. Her voice came to a screeching halt and she turned bright red. If she'd had any sense she'd have grabbed her top and the whole incident would have been over.
Now this is just my opinion, but it seems - unwise, shall I say? - for a young woman clad in a very small bikini bottom to physically attack a man who is bigger that her, stronger than her, and only wearing a pair of shorts.
That's what she did. I don't know what she was trying to prove but she just came at me, hands out as claws, ready to scratch and she had some very nasty looking fingernails. I automatically caught her wrists and moved her hands away from me, which resulted in us standing facing each other, chest to chest, and my, she had a lovely chest, and I truly appreciated the way it was now pressed against me.
Instead of backing away she just tried to keep on coming. This resulted in me taking a step back, getting my feet caught in the towel she had been lying on and falling backwards. I twisted as I fell, sort of catching my balance so I didn't come down hard, but I also brought Marlene down with me. The upshot of it was that she was on her back on the grass with me half on top of her.
The fact that she was at a disadvantage didn't slow Marlene down at all. She was struggling, trying to pull her hands free and trying to heave me off her. She might have been better off taking heed of what I was doing.
It seems to me, if I was a girl who wore a bikini that stayed on with little string ties, I'd take steps to ensure that the ties wouldn't come undone. A helpful stitch, perhaps, once I had the ties correctly fastened. At the very least, a double knot rather than a single bow.
I found that a gentle tug on the bow of Marlene's bikini bottom made the strings obligingly fall away. With Marlene's constant heaving (with some very rude verbal accompaniment, I might add) the bikini bottom also fell away. And she didn't even notice.
That is, she didn't notice until after I'd pushed down my own shorts and a very eager erection was pressing against her slit.
She finally held still, absolutely frozen for a moment.
"You wouldn't dare," she breathed out.
A little nudge and it turned out I would. The head of my cock slipped very neatly past her lips, finding a snug little resting place.
"Take it out, you filthy swine," she shrieked. "Right now! I'll kill you if you don't get off me. Bastard!"
She seemed a trifle disconcerted. I pushed a little further and promptly found the reason. Marlene was a virgin. My cock was now pressing against an intact hymen.
I just held still, feeling her squirming beneath me. The way I looked at it, give her a bit of time and her own body would work against her. With a cock knocking at the door, so to speak, her pussy was going to heat up and get nice and wet whether she wanted it to or not.
"You may find it unwise to struggle too hard," I warned her. "You wouldn't want to accidentally press up against me, now would you?"
There was a shocked gasp and Marlene froze, looking at me fearfully.
"If you just twist about gently you may be able to push me out," I said helpfully.
And if nothing else, the twisting about will help lubricate you, I didn't say.
The silly girl was following my suggestion, just twisting about, her pussy holding my cock and moving gently over it. I could practically feel the moisture rising from within.
She was still abusing me, demanding that I withdraw, not just from her person but from the land of the living. I listened to her rail, felt her writhe, and smiled. I held up a finger, and she shut up for a moment.
"If you listen hard, sweetheart," I said softly, "the next sound you hear will be the delicate pop of a cherry being broken."
I watched as she deciphered what I meant. Her eyes opened wide and she took a big breath and promptly lost it in a squeal as I pushed forward that little bit. Her hymen yielded to a superior force, almost painlessly from the look of astonishment on her face. The squeal was more from shock than pain.
