Unknown - Surfer Girl

"Say," he said, his eyes looking her up and down, "you must be new to town."

A small crowd had clustered around them and Janet felt nervous under their stare. She pressed her thighs together, still shaken from being knocked down.

"How did you know?"

"You're white as the underbelly of a shark," he said, pressing close, his barrel chest almost touching her bikini top. "And that swimsuit. Man, I haven't seen polka dots in a long time."

Janet gave out a mirthless laugh. She wanted to disappear into a hole she was so embarrassed.

But Duke, as the bartender called him, was not letting go. He couldn't take his eyes off her pert breasts and her swell buttocks. She was maybe seventeen, a little old next to the other girls, but that was all right. This chick was still fantastic!

"Let me buy you a beer," he offered.

Janet was going to tell him she was underage, but Duke just shook his head. "Yeah, man, no ID, I can dig it. But there's a place up the street that doesn't card you."

Janet looked at Duke and saw excitement and mystery. He sent chills up her legs and through her crotch.

Go ahead, she told herself, remembering all those empty, lonely days growing up in Dairy. This is what you want.

"Sure, let's have a beer," she said pausing. "I'm Janet."

"Duke," replied the blond surfer. "As in John Wayne." He smiled broadly, his even, white teeth sparkling. "Man, he's my hero."

Duke was two years older than Janet. But at seventeen, he had experienced a lifetime's worth of thrills-usually at someone else's expense. He had been a star football halfback in high school before the coach found his own daughter in the locker room after a big game giving head to the team. The chick was a nympho, but since the coach caught Duke pumping her mouth full of sperm, he got the blame. So he got the boot and he drifted into the surfing crowd. He went from one venture to the next, always following the young suntanned girls, the beach bunnies as they were called, who clung to surfers. Whatever money he made went quickly to these girls. That is, until he got wise and made the girls start working for him.

Duke became a pimp. He recruited chicks from the beach and turned them on to cocaine in return for a few small sexual favors, always to friends. It was the most successful business he had ever entered into and no one seemed to complain. Even the cops left him alone providing they got their share of free samples. But now he had bigger and better plans.

The bar was dark and cold and Janet's skin rashed into goosebumps as she• sat down. Her legs dangled down from the bar stool, the flesh quivering on the insides of her thighs. Tension made her pussy wet and she squeezed tightly trying to block• out the smell. The bartender leaned across and looked at her.

"ID?" he said.

"Shit," said Duke, throwing a five spot on the counter. "Who brings along their ID at the beach."

The bartender pocketed the money, then poured two draft beers and put them in front of Duke and Janet.

"Cheers."

"The same," said Janet weakly. The beer tasted bitter, but she swallowed several gulps anyway. She noticed that both the bartender and Duke were studying her and she felt embarrassed and foolish.

"Drink up," said Duke, raising his glass.

Janet managed to get the beer down her throat, grimacing as she swallowed.

The bartender took her glass and dunked it into the soapy water behind the bar. He was close to six feet, with a bulky build that started with big shoulders and worked its way down his body to his crotch where his cock was equally large and massive. Duke had never given him a bad turn and the girls he brought into the bar illegally always more than returned his generosity. He liked the girls, and from the drift of the conversation, he liked this one more than most. She didn't know a damn thing. Where Duke picked these young innocent things up in this day and age was beyond him. Twelve-year-olds were giving head jobs to their teachers. And on the beach it was worse. Fourteen guys piled on one skinny, eager little girl at a beach party one night, and she couldn't have been over sixteen. Damn, it was refreshing to find nice, virginal pussy. He doubted that this girl in the polka-dog swimsuit had been fucked more than once.

"Another beer?"

Duke looked over at Janet. She barely seemed to move. Her eyelids drooped and he wondered if the drug put in the beer was hitting her that hard. Maybe it was something else.

"Why not," said Duke. "Make it two. I think Janet could use one. The sun must have gotten to her."

"How's California treating you?" said the bartender, putting up two more drafts. "It's a fun place, if you know the right people."

She nodded her head. It was always the problem of knowing the right people no matter where you went. That was her big hang-up. She always disappeared into the crowd. It was like no one paid attention and then she got frustrated and scared. She was always lonely. Now looking around, she felt her spirits rise. She had two guys who were really interested in her.

"I like the beach," she said, her voice slurred. "It's a groovy place. I think I'll stay awhile."

"Got a place to stay?" Duke asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, for the time being."

The bartender just grinned. All day he had watched the surf bums bring their cutie-pie chicks into his place and disappear into the back room. Only the loud juke box stopped the panting and the lusty screams from filtering through. Whoever, Miss Polka Dot Bikini was, he wanted her and right this instant. The Quaalude he had dumped into her glass should be working. She looked loaded to the gills, but he wasn't sure. Well, fuck it, he only worked in the bar. And if she was with Duke, it meant she wasn't some starry-eyed virgin trying out for the convent. That's-for fucking sure.

He came out from behind the bar and put a big hand on her soft, warm shoulder and said, "Hey, you want to see the game room?"

"I think," she said, rising from the stool, "I've got to go to the ladies room." She giggled and stumbled off to the corner where the washroom doors said, "Women".

Once inside, she looked closely at her face. Sweat dribbled from her brow, but her eyes were all right. Her head felt crazy and her vision was blurred like everything was in slow motion. Maybe it was the beer, she thought. Her cunt felt nice and warm and she stumbled into the bathroom. She pulled down her bikini bottoms and squatted on the toilet seat. It felt cold against her buttocks. Her burning twat seemed to radiate heat. It had been only a few days since she lost her cherry in the motel room, but it felt like years. She squeezed down, trying to pee. Maybe that would make her feel better.

Suddenly the bathroom door swung open, footsteps approached the stall and then a man appeared before Janet's astonished eyes. The pee sprayed between her legs as she looked up at the cold blue eyes. It was the bartender!

He loomed up before her face, hard as a granite block, his cock wagging before her parted lips. His hand jerked on the shaft, bringing his throbbing sex to life. He looked down through the low cleavage at the hard nipples pouting out and then further down began the thatch of blonde pubic hair. He heard her pee splashing and laughed out loud. The bitch wasn't going anywhere. At least, not until she had sucked his cock!

"You turn me on, Miss Polka Dots," he roared, hunching up to her mouth.

He seized her by the hair and pulled her face down on his dick. He was ecstatic, terrified in fact, but his balls ached and he thought he could get away with it. He wanted to reach between those pearly thighs and into that matted bush, and finger-fuck the sweltering cunt that waited for him like a precious jewel. And he just might, as soon as she stopped peeing. As Janet opened her mouth to scream he thrust into the soft voice of her surprised mouth and she came down gagging on the rubbery end of his throbbing cock. He pushed crudely along the roof of her mouth and the raspy surface of her tongue, grinding her face with a tug on her ears. The bartender groaned with relief.