Ron Smith - Marina girls

"Peggy! Peggy!" Her mother was pounding on the girl's locked door. "Wake up, please!"

The girl shook her head. Her father's baritone roared in the companionway. "Peggy! Open the door! What the hell's going on?"

She rolled out of the short, narrow bunk. "Huh? Daddy? What is it, Daddy?" she asked in sleep-laden tones. Peggy snapped the flimsy door bolt and opened the door.

"Oh, God! You're all right, you're still here! Thank you, God," Ruth babbled, wrapping the flannel-clad girl in her arms. I was so scared when you didn't answer! I thought whoever'd done this had… had kidnapped you!"

"Done what, Mom? What kidnap me? What's happening?" Peggy's deep brown eyes were still bleary with sleep.

"Ripped off half the goddam boat, that's what!" Ed snarled. "All my tools and half of John's gear is gone. The sons-of-bitches even busted the dock box!"

Peggy's eyes were wide open now, round as saucers. She had never seen her father so angry. "Did you call the cops, Daddy?"

"He's going to do that right now, aren't you, Ed?" Ruth said. "We were so worried about you when we saw the boat had been broken into that we haven't had time, honey."

Ed pulled open the little cupboard where the phone was kept. "Gawd-DAMN them!" He pointed into the recess. "See that? They even stole the-the telephone!" He slammed the door.

"Stay right here. I'm going up to the clubhouse to call. The dockmaster is going to hear about this!"

Peggy dozed while the police talked with her parents. Ruth took her to bed, and the twelve year-old heard one of the officers say something about a list of the goods.

"I can't get it all listed until morning," Ed said, but the rest of his words were cut off by Peggy's cabin door.

The family was glum at breakfast. Ed looked grim and disheveled. Ruth seemed to have aged ten years during the night. Peggy picked at her food until her mother suggested that she take off while they catalogued the stolen items.

Peggy scuffed her white deck shoes on the grey-enameled wooden planks of the dock. She wandered in a short white dress, brooding about the burglary until she realized she'd come automatically to Tom's boat.

"Hi, Peggy. You look really depressed this morning. What's the trouble?" Tom askedm He put down his brush and the can of spar varnish and waited for an answer.

Peggy stood on the finger of the dock like an accusing ghost. Her head was bent down, and her large, womanly brown eyes gazed unblinking up at him. Her lower lip curled out and trembled. "Somebody broke into Mr. Wood's boat last night. They stole all of my dad's tools, and John's sextant -everything they could lift."

"Oh, no! Not you, too! That's the tenth time somebody's had a boat ripped off this summer," Tom said, dismayed. "Is it insured?"

"I don't know if Mr. Wood was or not," Peggy answered. "My dad's tools weren't. How's he gonna work when we go home?" She covered her face with her hands and began to cry.

Tom scrambled off the cabin top and onto the dock. "Hey, Peggy, don't cry," he said, putting his arms around the slender child. "They'll catch whoever did it. Please don't cry, Peggy!"

Peggy's sobs grew louder. Tom looked around like a trapped animal, then led her onto the Sea Nymph. He sat with her in the cockpit, comforting her as well as he could.

Peggy buried her face in his shoulder. She clung mightily to him, her long brown hair falling along his chest. Tom was embarrassed and concerned. The girl wept and gurgled with the sobs that shook her frail torso.

Tom looked around the cockpit, searching for a scrap to wipe the varnish from his hands. He didn't want to mark her pristine white clothes or her flowing brown hair. There was nothing within reach, so he held Peggy tight, patting her back with the inside of his wrist.

The fit of sobbing tapered off. Peggy raised her head and looked into Tom's face. Her lovely face was streaked with tears when she sat up. The young man grabbed a towel and Peggy dried her eyes. She looked at him expectantly, still ready to loose fountains of tears.

"I-I hear about nearly everything in the harbor when I'm working," Tom began. "Maybe I could find out more from the other people who've been robbed." Peggy's trusting look encouraged him. "We might be able to find your dad's tools in just a couple of days. The burglars must still be around here – nobody else on the whole coast has had so many ripoffs."

"Do you think they live here?" Peggy asked. Her eyes brightened. "Maybe at one of the marinas?"

"Could be, but I doubt it. There's been two or three whole boatloads of equipment stolen, so I don't think any of it's stashed here in the yacht harbor." Tom was very aware of Peggy's bare leg against his and her trusting nearness. His cock stiffened when Peggy spoke. Her wide mouth glistened, the sensual lips red from her bout of sobs.

Tom shifted his weight a bit. Even though Peggy had jacked him off the day before, her nearness in the open, sunlit cockpit of his boat rattled him. "Whoever it is, they know something about boats, and about scuba gear. They don't steal anything cheap, and they've made off with propellers and driveshafts from at least three of the boats."

"Could we go look around and see if we can find anything, Tom?" Peggy parted her lips and leaned closer. "I thought I heard something under our boat last night." She looked very serious and very attractive, staring intently into Tom's eyes.

Tom groaned inside. Peggy's slim body and her vigorous manner excited him. His cock was like a telephone pole inside his Bermudas. "Yeah, we can. Let me clean my brush and we'll take my raft around."

Peggy saw the long penile lump when Tom stood. Her gratitude for his promised help glowed warm in her bosom She wanted to grab his prick and kiss it to thank him for comforting her when she'd cried. Thinking of catching the burglars made her cunny moisten as much as the sight of his rod.

In less than two minutes, Tom had set his tackle to rights and pulled the yellow rubber raft off the sloop's foredeck. He dragged the inflatable boat to the end of the slip and helped Peggy in.

Peggy pulled the hem of her short dress demurely down her thighs. Tom faced her as he rowed. The lovely woman child sat with her legs folded to the side, leaning on the raft's rubber bottom with one hand. She showed an exotic length of smooth leg, and her little bosom was in half-profile. For all the hem-tugging she did, Tom still saw the elastic leg band of her white cotton panties. The curve of her bottom swelled under the tightness of the skirt, and her long thighs melted smoothly into the sensuous line.

Peggy kept glancing down at the vertical length of Tom's erect shaft as he rowed. There was no way his opened legs could have hidden the hard organ-life rafts were't designed for physical modesty, she realized.

Peggy kept her legs folded, anyway. She wanted to help her parents without being distracted by her horniness. I can't even think about his body now. We have to find out who stole all Dad's tools and get Mr. Wood's equipment back. Daddy said that sextant and the chronometer are worth over a thousand dollars! This little raft sure feels sexy though -it moves just like a waterbed over the little waves, she thought.

Tom said nothing while he rowed. The gaps between Peggy's dress buttons showed the small firm swell of her breast. She wore no bra, and the dark circles of her nipples showed as round shadows through the linen. Tom pulled his shirt tail to cover the rigid bulge of his meat. He could see Mr. Gibson and two plainclothes cops checking the topside of the ketch as he approached. I bet he's in a mood to deball any dude with a hard-on within half a mile of his daughter. Don't blame him, either. Peggy's gonna have somebody stickin' his cock to her long before she's legal Tom mused. He felt half-proud of his own restraint.