Tommy's Sea Gulls
Chapter 1
Tommy was 18 years old, a college freshman majoring in gym. He attended the community college at Barnstable, on the Cape because it was cheap. He learned early on in life that Ivy League schools don't prepare you for what's important. Like how to kick a guy in the balls because you don't like his looks.
Tommy was born in Dorchester, a tough part of Boston, and learned how to defend himself at an early age. He had never been to a Red Sox game at Fenway Park, because seats were too expensive. He lived mostly on the streets and when you live on the streets you can either fuck or fight. He did both. He was Irish and he had a long, lean body and an aggressive dick. He was good looking, with a pug nose and brown hair.
He had a chauvinistic attitude about women, that they were good only for one thing. At his age, he already had eyes for his mother, a beauty with an ample bosom and a wide ass. In his simple mind, he was hoping to get a handjob from her soon. Maybe even tomorrow.
Tommy 's mother loved him very much. Her name was Iris and she believed in her son, that some day he would become a great man. An astrologer -- she had deep faith in astrology -- told her that Tommy would become either a great leader or a parish priest. He also told her that as long as he stayed in Dorchester, kicking ass and fucking every woman he could find, he'd amount to nothing. Or end up in prison. The trick was to change his environment.
Since Iris's sister, Flossie, lived on the Cape it was a slam dunk. She would have Tommy live with Flossie. Flossie was always complaining about being bored down on the Cape and Tommy could keep Flossie amused. His mother knew Tommy was old enough to take care of himself, as well as taking care of Flossie . Although when Tommy got on the Greyhound bus for the Cape, the last thing she did NOT tell him was to take care of Flossy. What she really said was, 'I don't want Flossie complaining about you!'
Thus, arrangements were made, and Tommy went to live with his aunt in Brewster, Massachusetts, a small town on Cape Cod. Mostly middle class people lived here and you hardly ever saw homeless people. If one unfortunate happened to appear on the street, cops quickly picked him up and deposited him in a holding cell. He was then shipped off down to Texas to shovel manure.
Tommy was not a wimp and he didn't survive 18 years in Dorchester by having his head up his ass. The first thing he did was to check out his bedroom, looking for hidden cameras or signs of wire tapping. Satisfied that it appeared OK, he checked out Flossie's bedroom. Nothing unusual, the top drawer of her dresser contained panties, a couple of small buzzers and a huge dildo. The rest of her dresser contained articles of clothing, such as camisoles, soft things with no name, and a First Aide kit. There were no magazines, not even a Cosmo. He thought that was weird.
Nothing came easily for Tommy and so he learned to save his money. He got a part time job at a Home Depot, at close to minimum wage, and he was assigned to work in the garden. It was perfect, because housewives -- bored housewives -- usually hung out in the garden, and they soon found out about Tommy. He would take them out to an empty Tuff shed, and fuck them senseless. When the size of his cock became common knowledge among the ladies, the garden in the afternoon was flooded with women looking for pots of fertilizer or mulch or weed killer. Tommy received atta-boys' from his manager and no raise in salary.
He masturbated a lot because it was free. He loved his cock and it loved him. He didn't need to look his best when he jerked off, he could do it in the bathroom, in his bedroom, or have his cousin wank it. Maybe even Aunt Flossie.
His cousin's name was Jenny, a year older than Tommy. She had long black hair, deep blue eyes, and nice teeth. Like a lot of girls at church, she was sexually precocious and spent a lot of time in the confessional, pouring out her heart to Father O'Leary about how many times a day she masturbated, and how she was sorry, and didn't Jesus have sisters who did it too? Judging from the heavy breathing emanating from behind the screen and the squishy fisting sound, Jenny knew her sins, as it were, were being forgiven.
Jenny was built like a porn star, without the tattoos. She had a cute ass, and had a big chest for her weight. She looked like a Vatican priest's wet dream, and she enjoyed showing herself off to Tommy while he beat off. You could say she was an exhibitionist; she sat half reclining with her legs open, fingering herself until her panties were saturated. It was what constituted sex for them because it was cheap and satisfying, like a bowl of pasta, and Tommy could climax more than once while Jenny could climax over and over. And it didn't cost money!
It was one weekday afternoon when Tommy and Jenny were laying on the sandy beach, totally unaware of people that might be watching them. Jenny had her hand in Tommy 's swimming trunks. He was thick and hard, and his cock felt like iron. She'd been tickling his balls. She didn't want him to come too soon, so she whispered love talk into his ears. She told him how her pussy was throbbing, actually saying 'cunt' a lot because it sounded real dirty, and every time she told him how Kathy licked her quim, she'd rub precum over his swollen knob for emphasis. He knew Kathy because the three of them hung out together. Tommy was groaning, but with the tide in, you mostly just heard the waves slapping against the beach.
* * *
When Flossie met Tommy at the bus stop, he was speaking to the bus driver, a hefty Hispanic female. She had handed him a card of sorts, with her phone number. The woman appeared old enough to be his mother, and she was built for action! Tommy was giving her a big smile when Flossie appeared.
"Still the charmer!" Flossie teased him. She gave Tommy a big hug, mashing her boobs against his slim torso. "How was the trip?"
"It wasn't bad. Teresa made it fun. She was telling me --"
"I take it Teresa is the bus driver?"
"No, Teresa is the girl I was sitting with. She's going on to Provincetown ..."
"So what were you doing with Teresa?"
"We were sorta making out ..."
"And she was telling you not to stop?"
"How did you know, Aunt Flossie?"
Flossie had to laugh.
"You'll like it out here, on the Cape. The wonderful air, no protests ... nice and peaceful."
He smiled, relieved that he didn't have to punch someone out, at least not right away.
"Jenny has changed a lot since you've seen her last. She's been teaching aerobics at the health club. She looks like a poster girl for fitness!"
"Yeah? She's happy?"
"Let's say she's not unhappy. She dates of course, and I know she's horny like her old lady ..."
Tommy laughed. "How do you know that?"
"She asked me to buy her a vibrator for her birthday! She's nineteen now ..."
It was food for thought. Tommy felt his dick throb.
As Flossie spoke he liked the way she was built. She was medium height, but busty and a bit heavy in the hips. She wore a skirt but it was light weight, and Tommy noticed her thighs. Flossie saw how Tommy looked at her, and by the lump in his jeans she assumed she met with his approval.
Chapter 2
Tommy hadn't seen his cousin, Jenny, since she was a kid, and all he remembered about Jenny was that she was very heavy with big eyes and a bright personality. All the women on his mother's side tended to be overweight. Jenny went to community college to get a BSN, a bachelor's degree in nursing. She had a way with people, especially older folks, and the hospital assigned her to geriatrics.
The worse part of being old, she found out, was loneliness. When patients left the hospital they usually went into a senior living facility. The usual placement was assisted living, where cooked meals were served and women, who barely spoke English, would clean up poop. Not only were these rooms expensive, but residents were usually deeply depressed and hard to handle.
Regaling Tommy with stories of old men she had to jerk off to keep them calm, Jenny went on and on about sex -- procreation and recreation. Tommy thought that a guy over sixty didn't have sex but he soon found out about couples in their 80's, at nursing homes -- humping in their hospital beds. And Jenny reminded him about Moses, being eighty when he was chosen to lead the Israelites to the Promised Land. Wow!
Jenny was thrilled to meet Tommy , someone her own age, and someone who shared her desire for fucking. Both teens had raging hormones and Flossie desperately prayed Jenny was on the pill.
Although Tommy wasn't a math whiz he mentally figured he had over 100,000 orgasms ahead of him. And that was only his masturbation output!
Chapter 3
Control yourself, Flossie thought, gazing out her bedroom window at the ocean. She tried to be objective, but her pussy was throbbing. Seeing Tommy, who seemed to have a perpetual hard-on, was making her dizzy. She watched Tommy and Jenny romping over the dunes, splashing in the waves, and then flopping onto a blanket.
She tried to control the trembling of her hands, the fierce pounding of her heart. But to no avail.
Seeing Tommy with her daughter, both almost naked out there on the dunes, triggered something inside Flossie. A desire so intense it overwhelmed her. There was nothing more beautiful on the beach, even more beautiful than the sailboats and seagulls and sweeping dunes. It was people fucking. The couple was twisting out there on the sand, and by the way Tommy was hunching, it looked like he was on the edge.
You might wonder how Flossie ended up living on the Cape. She wasn't the type who sat home knitting, or watching daytime TV. Politics always raised her blood pressure and someone told her to run for office. She found out what she needed to do, and how to get her name on the ballot. Starting with a modest position, she decided to run for the assessor's office. The problem was, nobody knew her. And those who did know her, hated her. She had fought with everyone.
Not to be discouraged, she emptied her savings account, had some brochures printed up, and started ringing doorbells. Here's the executive summary: she lost the election. It left her in a bitter mood, and if it wasn't for the vicarious thrill she got from watching Jenny in the shower, she would have become a drunk.
Flossie was a liberated woman, which meant she didn't mentally crucify anyone who didn't vote like she did. Only in her early 40's, she didn't want to be called leftist or a conservative. She wished there was a party of libertines, not liberals. Liberals spent too much time demonstrating in the street when they could be home masturbating. Or fucking. She remembered the 60's -- 'make love, not war'. She had never been to Woodstock, but fucking in the mud looked like it was a lot of fun.
She attended Smith College and majored in French. Maybe she was going to teach French, maybe open a French restaurant, or maybe a brothel. But brothels were illegal these days!
Her dream in life was to meet a man with a monstrous limb who would fuck her senseless. Not just at night but around the clock. A perpetual fuck machine who would lick her pussy while he took a breather, who could cum gallons, living on tiny sandwiches and a good Bordeaux. She'd read about such men in French novels. Did they actually exist? It was a blessing that Tommy had come to live with her!
Flossie had never married, although she was engaged to William, a good looking guy who decided to become a priest. It made sense because William was gay, and she was relieved; she thought maybe her boobs weren't big enough or her cologne gave him a rash, or when she jerked him off her hands were too small. William preferred a cock up his ass and that sort of fit the profile of a good priest.
Chapter 4
I can't go through with it, she thought, knowing that she could no longer help herself.
His cock ... just picturing the ivory shaft sends shivers up and down my spine. God, to feel Tommy 's cock buried in my pussy!
There was a soft knock on Flo's bedroom door.
"Yes, Tommy , come on in."
He couldn't look her straight in the eye. She thought he would burst into tears at any moment.
