Unknown - Surfer Girl

She knew what he wanted and she shuddered to think a man would want that done now. She struggled to push him away, but his strong biceps pushed her to the bed. Janet closed her eyes but that did not stop him from dragging his cock up to her face. She looked at last and saw the huge, expired cock being dragged like a rudder between his legs, the end leaking sperm onto her skin. She gasped.

"No," she said.

Morgan didn't listen. He held her shoulders down and pushed his cock onto her trembling lower lip. She turned her head away, but he grabbed her ears and forced her to look at him.

"Do it," he said.

She smelled the putrid air and felt the goo on her lip and it was so vile that she wanted to die. It was hideous. Or was it? His penis dragged across her dry lip and finished inside the sweet open void of her mouth, touching teeth and gums and finally hot, wet tongue.

"You like?" he added.

She did. His sperm was not bad-tasting as she sucked him clean. The same tongue that had made him hard was drinking out his juice and cleaning the wrinkled foreskin. Morgan only groaned with delight as she pressed his dick down her throat. His dick wagged inside her open throat, her tongue washing and cleaning it. It was sensational, the best he ever had.

She would not forget him. Gagging on his cock, feeling the burning afterglow of her come between her sperm-slippery thighs, she knew life would be different.

She was ready for California. At last!

The flight from Chicago to San Diego was on time, but it was one the passengers were not likely to forget. The weather was stormy and unpredictable and twice passengers were asked to fasten their seat belts. Janet and her mother shared two seats with a nice view. While other passengers were having anxiety attacks because the plane was thrown around in the wind like a child's toy, Janet looked out at the billowy clouds and the spotty patches of ground far below, and her heart throbbed with excitement. She watched the flat Midwestern plains give way to the sharp pointed mountains and dry stretches of desert of the far West. The storms cleared as they traveled closer to California, and when the pilot announced their arrival, Janet strained against the seatbelt to get her first view of her new home, San Diego.

As the plane dipped, starting its approach pattern, Janet saw this sprawling city gleaming in the late-afternoon sun. There were purple mountains and long flat mesas, some green, others jammed with housing tracts. Freeways crisscrossed the city in long ribbons. What impressed her most was the great blue expanse of Pacific Ocean. She had never seen an ocean and the awesome size, the way it seemed to go on forever, was fascinating. The plane dropped suddenly. The Lindbergh Field runway and the wheels screeched underneath.

Janet understood the magic power California held on people seeing the Pacific Ocean, she realized why people flocked to the water. Why some gave up good-paying jobs to face an uncertain future on the West Coast. Just to be near the thundering surf. It was enchanting. She recalled all those Beach Boys' songs about surfing and hot cars and wild times on the beach, and her breasts began to ache, the nipples rising up as hard as they had in the motel room when Morgan's hard dick had thrust into her cunt.

Janet's eyes filled with tears of joy. She had never felt so happy. She couldn't wait to explore the hidden mysteries of her new home state.

Unstrapping her seat belt, Janet looked over at her mother.

"I'm glad that's over," Ethel said. Her breath reeked of gin. "I damn near threw up." She rose clumsily to her feet. She held Janet's shoulder for support with a surprisingly strong hand. "Maybe they'll learn to fly these goddamn things," she said.

Janet looked through the window one last time. The airport terminal was coming into view and through the tinted glass her father, waiting to whisk them away to their new home.

"I can't wait," Janet said, squeezing her thighs to stop the flow of juice into her panties. "California here I come!"

Point Loma was an old community, a fashionable area of old homes, winding, palm-tree-laden streets and gentle breezes from the ocean. It was called home by the wealthy. Unlike other old neighborhoods, Point Loma remained exclusive, still a good spot to live and raise a family.

Adjoining Point Loma was another old section called Ocean Beach. The dividing line between these two communities was not clear-cut, though most people considered Point Loma as on top of the hill, while Ocean Beach was everything that spilled down towards the ocean. It had the best surfing found anywhere in California. Ocean Beach was a summer vacation spot and had been for nearly fifty years. It had shops and tacky restaurants, a fishing pier and a dozen or so bars. Recently, surfers had staked out Ocean Beach as their town and through these nomads with the brightly colored "woodies", casual dress and carefree lifestyle had proved to be attractive scenery for the summer tourists, they posed something of a nuisance for Ocean Beach residents. There was talk about a longhair Mafia organizing in the beach which controlled drug traffic, white slavery, prostitution and other evils. It was only a rumor, of course, but rumors had a way of being founded in fact and more than a few citizens were worried about the future of Ocean Beach.

Biff Andrews walked proudly across the freshly clipped front lawn, turned in a slow circle, a wave of his arm giving him a air of showmanship and said: "This is your new home. How do you like it?"

"Oh, Daddy, it's beautiful," cried his daughter, Janet. There were real tears in her eyes as she ran up the sidewalk into the one-story split-level house. There was a sun porch which looked out on Ocean Beach and the blue vastness of the Pacific Ocean. She felt dizzy and elated and full of joy like a child on Christmas Day. Her panties were moist from excitement, and her mound ached to be touched. She ran from one room to the next, her footsteps echoing against the hardwood floors. Like other houses built when materials were abundant, the walls were thick, the ceilings high and the windows plentiful. An overhead fan in the living room swished the muggy air.

"Oh it's a dream house, Daddy," she said. Then unexpectedly, she jumped into his arms and kissed her daddy, hugging him close so her taut nipples dug into his chest.

Buff gripped his daughter. Her rump rested on his forearms and he could feel her cunt heat through his Hawaiian shirt. His cock stiffened in his loose trousers, the smell of Janet's twat bonding them together in its sweet, musky odor. He started to shake and quickly released her.

"Daddy, can I go down to the beach?" asked Janet.

"Good idea, darling," Biff answered, wiping beads of sweat from his brow. "Your mother and I want to talk." He gave her a playful pat on the ass and watched his daughter as she skipped from the room, carrying her travel bag.

Biff turned to his wife who looked out the window. "Well?" he said.

"I thought you wanted a new house," she said, not turning around. "This place must be forty years old."

He felt a twinge of disappointment. The house was meant as a surprise. He half expected Ethel to be as excited with it as he was. It was a dream house with a beautiful view of the ocean. Point Loma was not the dreary suburbs; it was a hodgepodge of lifestyles, of people from different backgrounds, with different tastes. It was a chance to break away from the dull, everyday routine of the suburbs. Their marriage had been going badly and this house, this strange, exciting neighborhood was a chance to rekindle their life together.

"How's this, Daddy?" Janet said. She appeared from the bedroom in a new bikini.

It is too small, he thought, feeling his penis grow like a young sapling in his pants. Her breasts stood out so you could see the nipples popping through. She pirouetted and he groaned again. The bottom clutched her ass cheeks lasciviously. He couldn't believe how much his daughter had developed. All the kids wore them tight these days, he told himself. But his daughter?