Ron Smith - Marina girls

After soaking in the warm afterglow of their shared cumbursts, Peggy and Tom began to stir. "I can't believe it," Tom whispered. "Nobody ever blew me like that, Peggy. You have the most gifted mouth in the universe!"

"I love sucking you, Tom," Peggy answered. "That really made me dig your penis, the way it moved and tasted in my mouth. Can I do that again soon, please?"

"You sucked my balls completely dry, baby, but you can do it all you like. Any girl with a pussy as tasty as yours and your fantastic mouth can kill a man with pleasure." Tom wrestled around to lie beside Peggy in the bobbing life raft.

"You made my pussy feel so good! Your tongue is so soft and nice down there that I couldn't stop cumming! The only thing I need now is to feel you put all of that nice hard thing up inside me," Peggy smiled. Tom's cum was drying on her pretty face.

"Here, let me wipe that off," Tom said, unbuttoning his shirt. "You'd better put your panties back on before we come out from under here, baby," Tom dipped one short sleeve in the salt water and dabbed at the flaking smears of semen. "Is that better?"

"I wish I could leave it on, like a badge that shows you came on me," Peggy answered, "but I guess my parents wouldn't dig that too much."

Tom smiled softly. "No, I don't suppose they would. We better get our asses back out where people can see us, before they come looking' for us." He wiped her face dry with the rest of the cloth. "I think I should take this glove and the wrenches down to the police station. Will you promise to stay out of trouble while I'm gone, Peggy? Your dad would smash my ass if anything happened to you."

Tom watched the pretty girl slip her white cotton panties on and smooth them over her flat belly. Why in the hell am I so horny for this girl that I risk my goddamn neck to eat her pussy?

Tom used the butt end of the oar to pole the yellow inflatable out from under the dock. He didn't know why, but he felt a small tickling fear when Peggy examined the diving glove in the bright sunlight. Tom toyed with the idea of bringing Peggy along on the trip to the police station, but he dismissed it. She'll be okay.

Peggy looked at herself in the mirror. She stood in the ketch's cramped bathroom with white specks of dried semen in her hair. Her white linen dress was rumpled, with damp spots from the drops of water in the bottom of the raft. That sure was nice I don't think anything could ever be better than a good long kiss on my pussy. She brushed the dry flakes out and tied her long, shining brown hair back.

The long-legged brunette stalked to her cabin. She shucked out of the white minidress and stood in her panties, surveying her wardrobe. Her little breasts poked out boldly. With her hands on her hips, she nodded. The lush ponytail bobbed below her shoulder blades.

W.G. must stand for Bill Green. Now, if I can get a real innocent outfit, I bet I can sneak around his boat and see if he has any more of those tools from that stolen yacht. He might even ask me aboard – he looked at me kind of horny the first day I was here.

He sure seems to be a hot lover, from the way his sister Sherry acted His cock isn't as big as Tom's, though. Besides, anybody dumb enough to put initials on his gloves when he steals stuff… Peggy shook her head. She picked out a baggy maroon sweatshirt and cutoff blue jeans.

With a plan forming slowly, she glanced down at her cotton panties and pursed her lips. She quickly bent and discarded the flimsy garment. She pulled on her cutoffs and was satisfied. Twin crescents of pale skin showed. Her young buttocks overflowed the pants nicely. She pulled the sleeveless sweatshirt over her head and grinned at her reflection in the mirror.

The old sweatshirt billowed loosely around her waist, but had shrunk short enough to bare two inches of midriff above the jeans. The faded blue denim cut into her crotch, outlining the twin swellings of her vulva. A peek through the armholes of her sloppy top almost showed the nipples that poked like fingertips through the well-worn fabric.

Peggy left the ketch, looking carefully around. No one was aboard the Green's big motorsailer, and the white runabout was gone. She was a little bit disappointed. Peggy had hoped to drive Bill Green mad with lust for her jailbait body, but now she didn't have the chance.

The white motorboat hadn't been there all day, she recalled. In fact, Peggy had only seen it in the channel, never tied up at the marina. She stopped, one foot on the edge of the yacht's deck. The runabout was a very common-looking craft, but there were none like it anywhere at the club. She and Tom had looked in every slip.

Peggy stepped aboard and tapped on the hatch leading into the motorsailer's cabin. "Hello? Is anybody here? Bill? Mrs. Green?" The little brunette peered around at the neighboring boats. No one was watching her. She tugged at the hatch.

It was open. Peggy slid the plywood panel forward along the top, then lifted the latch and stepped inside. She looked around.

Peggy's lip curled. This was the first boat she'd seen where everything was left lying about. All the others used intricate stowage neatly, keeping the confines uncluttered under sail or tied up at a dock. Towels and underwear lay on the countertop. Plastic plates jumbled in a messy pile in the stainless-steel sink. A huge revolver, a.41 Magnum, hung in a brown leather holster over the dinette. An open tacklebox spilled lures next to the table.

Peggy picked her way along the aisle. The door forward moved as the boat rocked in the slip. The slender brunette looked into the head as she passed by, then stalked into the main stateroom.

A yellow handle, the same color as the hex key ring, caught her eye. Peggy reached across the tangled sheets of the bed and picked it up. She turned the tool over in her hands and deciphered the peeling gold leaf etched into the handle of the screwdriver. Windsome.

That bastard! He greeted us nice as you please, and then he stole every one of Dad's power tools! A cold flame danced in Peggy's narrowed brown eyes. She looked around the floating bedroom, photographing every slovenly detail.

Peggy dropped the screwdriver. Heavy footsteps thudded down the ladder from the cockpit. She saw a booted foot past the half-open door of the main cabin. Her eyes widened in terror and she backed against the forward door.

Bill Green kicked the mahogany door against the wall. He glared at her, but Peggy's eyes saw nothing but the gaping pit of the Magnum's barrel.

"What is it, Bill?" Sherry's high, clear voice called. "Who's in there?"

"It's the kid from old Wood's boat. Come on down here, Sis." Bill lowered the menacing blind eye of the hand cannon. He looked the terrified girl over. He saw the yellow-handled screwdriver on the deck at Peggy's feet and his face hardened.

The huge-breasted blonde looked over Bill's shoulder. "What's she doing here?"

"Snooping, hon, and finding out too goddamn much. Should we teach her a little lesson?" Bill asked with a coarse leer. "Couldn't hurt anything. If we can keep her out of sight for two days, we'll be clear to hell away from here."

"What are you gonna do with me?" Peggy asked. Her voice trembled. "I haven't done anything. I don't know what you're talking about. I-I just came over to ask if I could have a ride in your little motorboat, and…" The little brunette stopped.

"How many other people have seen that goddamn runabout?" Bill hissed. His tall, blonde sister tightened her lips and shook her head. "I knew we should have stayed on shore. Between you and Janet, this whole deal is getting fucked up."

Peggy wondered what deal Bill was talking about. She glanced back and forth from brother to sister. "Using the runabout wasn't my idea," Sherry began.