Frank Anvic - Swap island

Somehow it gave her a feeling of excited anticipation.

Here she was, drinking whiskey with a good looking man while a storm was raging. Her tummy filled with the wings of a hundred fluttering butterflies and she smiled coyly at Pete Lonsdale.

"Drink your whiskey. There's more," he husked.

"I've never been drunk before," she said.

"No time like the present," he said, putting a hand on her leg.

His touch seemed to burn through her flesh. She felt a tingle in her loins, deeper, as his hand stayed there, and in her pussy. Her heart leaped up into her throat, but she didn't say anything. She didn't want to say anything. She wanted whatever was to happen, to happen. She wanted him to leave his hand there on her leg. Or move it up, slowly, to where her warm pussy pulsed as though in memory of its sexual excitement with Cathy of the night before.

Olive had never had a grown man before. She was certain that Pete was going to fuck her. The thought of it made her clitoris harden and unconsciously she spread her legs slightly. Pete looked at her, then, getting the message.

"You're a pretty girl, Olive," he told her.

"Thank you-Pete," she said, sipping her whiskey.

"Do you have any boyfriends?" he asked.

"No-not really," she admitted.

"Have you ever had sex with a boy?"

"Yes, sort of," she said.

"Did you like it?"

"Unh huh," she nodded.

Pete's hand moved up her leg, slowly as she had wanted it to. His fingers touched her shorts.

He felt her jerk as though an electric shock had jolted her.

"All right?" he asked.

"Yes," she sighed. "When you touched me there-it-it surprised me." That wasn't what she meant, but that's all she could think of. Her head was spinning with excitement.

"Did it feel good?"

"Unh huh."

Emboldened by her attitude and her remarks, Pete pushed his hand against her pussy lips. She clamped her legs over his hand with the delight this brought to her and Pete rubbed through the cloth, his own trousers stretching with the fullness of his hardening cock.

Pete didn't put his hand inside her shorts at first. He wanted to bring her up to a point of hot desire slowly. He nodded to her to drink more of her whiskey as he drank his. He kept one hand in her crotch, hot against her pussy, though, and he could feel the warmth increasing there.

"Do you want me?" he asked her.

"I-I don't know. I-1 guess so," she faltered.

"You know what I'm going to do to you?"

"Yes-I-I think so."

His hand pushed against her pussy. "What?" he asked.

"You're going to-to…"

"Go on," he urged, "say it."

"Make love to me?"

"You can say it better than that."

"F-fuck me?"

"Yes, Olive," he said huskily, "I'm going to fuck you. I want to fuck you."

"I know," she said, and sipped the last of her whiskey. Pete leaned over and took her face in his hands. He brought her lips around to his and gave her a hot kiss. She responded as he had dared not hope, and he slithered his tongue into her mouth.

He took his hand away from her crotch and found a soft breast. He squeezed it as he kissed her and felt her body writhe under his touch.

The body that responded to his touches was not a girl's, but a woman's. Olive's breasts rose as she struggled for breath. She pushed her breasts up and forward, threw her head back as Pete's hands brought pleasure to her whole body. Pete took one of her hands and put it on his own lap. His hard cock struggled to break free of the cloth. Olive felt the iron contours of his rod and gave a squeeze. Delighted, Pete rubbed her breast harder and kissed her with a rising passion.

"Jesus, Olive," he breathed, "you're a woman already." He put his hand back down between her legs. Her pussy wetness had seeped through her shorts and the feel of the dampness brought new excitement to him.

"You're ready quick," he whispered.

"Yes-yes, I am," she managed. Her breath was short and her head was spinning with the giddiness of his attack. Her loins ached for the fullness of his cock and she moved her hips involuntarily in a coital motion.

"Let's move onto the bunk," he said, gently pushing her under the upper bunk. She moved over and he slid alongside her.

"Turn over," he said, and Olive twisted over on her stomach. Pete bent over her buttocks and unbuttoned her shorts, then zipped them down. Olive turned back over and Pete pulled her shorts down past her knees and over her canvas boat shoes. A pair of pink panties remained and Pete looked down at them. Olive put her hands on the elastic and began to tug them off, too.

"No, don't. Not yet," he said. "It'll be better this way."

He took her in his arms, then, and kissed her, before arising slightly to remove his own clothing, all except his own undershorts. Then he lay down beside her again and pulled her young breasts against his chest and put his mouth on hers. He kissed her slowly and softly at first, then as passion overtook him, crushed her lips against his. His tongue, a violent finger in her mouth, jabbed and probed. He felt Olive pulse against him, her nakedness bringing a thrill to him that caused his considerable erection to harden.

Olive was gasping for breath when he broke from the kiss. "Ooooh," she said.

"Like it, Olive?"

"I-I love it," she breathed.

Pete looked at her a long moment. Then his hand went to her pink panties and pressed against the mound beneath the nylon. Olive shuddered and he winked at her.

"Put your hand on my cock, Olive," he rasped. Obediently, Olive timorously put her hand on the bulge in Pete's undershorts. She almost let out a sigh as her hand touched the big throbbing member that was curled up like a doughnut inside his shorts. She had never felt anything so big and so exciting.

"Like that?" he asked.

"Yes. My God, it's so big!"

"Hey, you're a doll, Olive," he laughed. "I'll have to put you on my private payroll, you keep complimenting me like that."

"I mean it," she said. "It's-so alive and big."

She petted his cock with her hand as though it were a small furry animal.

"How would you like that big cock inside of,you?" he asked.

Olive gave his member a squeeze and smiled at him. "I-I'd like that very much, Mr. Lonsdale."

"It's Pete, now, honey."

"Pete," she agreed. "Pete for peter."

Pete laughed.

Olive squeezed his cock again and moved her thighs as though to tell him that she wished he would make the coital connection.

Pete put his hand to her panties again. They were soaked at the crotch where her little tight hole had leaked hungry sex fluids. He pushed against the wetness of her mound and was rewarded with an involuntary shudder. He slipped his finger, then, inside her panties and found flesh bristling with curly pubic hairs. Olive's mouth slacked open as his fingers touched her cunt and brought an electric sensation to her loins.

He pushed his finger inside. Her hole was tight and he had to fumble around a moment or two before he achieved a modicum of penetration. But once inside her pussy, he slid further inside with no trouble because Olive was as wet as the inside of a rain barrel after a spring cloudburst. He moved his finger back and forth and Olive moaned with pleasure. Her back arched and her hips pushed up as though trying to impale herself on his entire arm.

"Ooooh," she cooed, "but that feels so groovy, Pete."

"Glad you like it," he said. "It's only the beginning. Wait'll I open up that hole of yours with my cock."

"Man, I can hardly wait," she said.

But Pete made her wait. He played with her young clit for several moments and felt her body shudder again and again as orgasms shook her.

Later, he pulled her panties down and put his mouth in her nest. Olive wrapped her legs around Pete's neck in pure joy and thrust her pussy upward. That's when Pete shoved his tongue inside her juice-laden cunt and drove Olive clear out of her teenage mind.