0 comments/  10771 views/  11 favorites

Oar House

By: riverboy



All characters are over eighteen. All people and places are fictional.

*****

Mosquitoes buzzed outside as a young woman stuffed wadded-up pieces of toilet paper into holes in old window screens. Naked in the stifling humid heat, she slapped her hand against her neck, squishing a small splat of blood out of one of the infernal pests.

"These little fuckers are gonna drive me crazy one of these days," she said in a deep southern drawl. "Y'all gonna help me with this shit or what?"

"Yeah, yeah," another naked girl said as she got up off her chair to help. "Keep your knickers on."

They worked their way around the screened-in back deck of the old barge, methodically plugging up any openings they could find.

"Why's momma park us in these fuckin' swamps anyway?" the southern girl said.

"You know why Ash," Taylor said. "It's not like we can tie up to the town fuckin' dock now, can we?"

"You probly love it," Ashley said with a laugh. "Yer an old swamper at heart I bet. Rollin' around in the mud with a big ol' southern cock in ya."

"Hey anything beats North Dakota sweetheart. You don't know what mud is 'till you've been up there in the springtime," Taylor said.

Right below where the girls were working was the transom of the old barge. Pinkish-grey surplus paint gave way to bright red letters, carefully hand painted with a brush: 

OAR HOUSE

LOUISIANA

The grey paint — the girls called it "puke grey" — covered the whole barge, giving it a militaristic look, like a worn out leftover from World War Two that had seen better days. The only splashes of color, other than the name, were the doors, hatches, a boarding ladder, and a pair of oars decorating the side of the main cabin, all bright red and welcoming. At least that's how Momma hoped it looked.

"Fuckin' little shits!" Ashley said angrily as she squished another blood-filled bug under her hand. "Why don't they bother you? I'm gonna get a fuckin' disease from these little fuckers."

"Honey, if you ain't got the clap yet, you're immune to everything," Taylor said with a chuckle.

Getting 'the clap' was a running joke amongst the girls, but Momma was never amused by it. "Keep that word down," she'd say. "Any of the men hear that word they go runnin'."

Keeping happy thoughts in men's heads was important to Momma, and she worked hard at it. Keeping the girls happy was hard work too, but she was good to them, and they loved her for it. Most of the girls had come to her during hard times, running from abusive men, or worse. Oar House really did feel like home to them, a sanctuary from the real world, even if they did have to suck some ugly-ass cocks now and then.

There were as many nice cocks as there were ugly ones though, probably more truth be told. The fisherman that were the girls most frequent customers were in good physical shape from their hard work, and most of them were reasonably young. They had money to spend, that's for sure, and they loved a good time. Momma tried to make sure the barge was near enough to the fishing fleet's docks to give it to them.

Oar House was a worn out old barge, yes, but below decks you'd never guess it. Bright and cheerful, Momma had it decorated in a way that made everybody smile. Splashes of color that caught the eye, real paintings that she made herself, knickknacks and oddities scattered around everywhere. There was a stuffed baby alligator with a top hat and a hand-rolled cigarette in its mouth, an autographed picture of Frank Sinatra, and a sweet looking doll in a diaper holding a tiny blanket in one hand and a stick of dynamite in the other. Most of the paintings were of the girls. Every once in a while Momma would pull out her paints and a slab of wood and somebody would pose for her, usually in their birthday suit and sometimes doing naughty things. Momma got a kick out of it and loved to hang them up where all the customers could see them. She even sold one now and then, which always made her happy.

Each of the girl's tiny little bedrooms had nice little curtains on the small windows, pretty bedspreads and nice sheets on comfortable mattresses. They each had a dresser, the drawers lined with clean paper, and a bookshelf holding their favorite books. Reading was the primary way to pass time on the boat, and even the girls who didn't think they'd like it fell under the spell of the written word after a while. Momma loved to read, but it was a girl from Atlanta named Donna Lee who really got the reading ball rolling.

She showed up out of nowhere one day, a pretty little thing dressed like she was heading off to church in the big city. Momma had Oar House tied up at the fishing fleet's fuel dock, taking on diesel and fresh water. To hear Momma tell it Donna Lee just walked up to her and said, "I'm comin' with y'all. That's all right, isn't it?" Donna Lee had three suitcases with her, two with beautiful clothes in them, and one full of books. To hear Donna Lee tell it Momma said, "Sure, we've got a room open. Y'all know how we spend our time here?" "Fuckin' and readin' I hope," Donna Lee said.

That was over nine years ago, and Donna Lee still out fucks and out reads everybody on the boat. And she's still a pretty little thing, dressed like she's heading off to church in the big city. When she's not naked anyway.

She went to prep school as a child and on to college, studying literature and art history, so she's the go-to girl on the boat for the new girls who never got a good education. There's been quite a few of them over the years, and Donna Lee loves helping them with their reading skills, opening their minds to the wonders of a good book. Reading is such a big deal now on the boat Momma gave up a little income and turned one of the tiny bedrooms into a library. Well, not so much a library as a room stuffed to the brim with books. It can be a challenge finding what you're looking for, but usually someone has a pretty good idea what pile to dig though.

One of the wonderful things about it all is that a lot of the customers bring books with them now as gifts for the girls. Oh sure, they still bring candy and chocolates, and trinkety jewelry, but the books are always the big hit. Bring one of Mamma's girls a wonderful book and be prepared for the best fuck of your life.

"You girls better get ready, the fleet came in a little while ago," Momma said. She had her arms crossed, leaning on the kitchen windowsill overlooking the back deck. "Come and have a quick supper, you'll need your energy."

"All right Momma, we're almost done," Ashley said.

Momma lingered for a minute, admiring Ashley and Taylor's naked backsides as they finished mosquito patrol. "You plannin' on entertainin' out there?" she asked.

"Maybe Momma. Some of the boys like it out here with all the nature sounds and whatnot," Ashley said.

"Maybe you better pull out the cushions then," Momma said, and she disappeared back into the kitchen.

"Good idea Momma," Taylor said.

————————

The buzz of outboard motors drew near as the girls quickly finished their supper.

"I'll take care of this mess later. Man your battle stations!"

Momma loved to say that when she heard the boats coming. Soon the girls could hear the boat's engines shut down as they tied up alongside the old barge. Men's laughter filled the humid night air as they clamored up the boarding ladder.

"We're not comin' out to meet ya," Lisa Lou yelled through the screen door. "These damn mosquitoes'll carry us away."

"The only thing carryin' you away tonight Lisa Lou is my big ol' dick!" one of the young men yelled.

Lisa Lou, a tall, curvy woman from deep in the heart of Texas, laughed like a school girl when she heard him.

Soon all the bedrooms were full, some with more than one man, and Momma was smiling contentedly as she cleaned up her kitchen.

Lisa Lou did in fact have that "big ol' dick" that night. It belonged to Scratch Wilson, one of the younger of the fisherman that frequented Oar House. The girls all wondered how he saved enough money to put food in his stomach, so freely did he spend his earnings on them. Every girl on the boat had been with him time and time again. Even Momma had sampled his charms.

His first night there he was skinny and shy, fresh out of high school and brand new to the fishing business. He had just gotten a job on a local shrimp boat, and the crew brought him to Oar House as part of his initiation, like a hazing at a frat house. Nervous and quiet, Donna Lee took him under her wing, her sophisticated, educated ways putting the boy at ease as she slowly lost piece after piece of clothing. It wasn't so much that he was put at ease, he was just plain mesmerized by the pretty young thing from Atlanta. She had started out with her usual Sunday-go-to-church clothes, and before he knew it she was standing before him in flesh-colored lace bra and panties, with sheer thigh-high hose on her shapely legs.

"You're gonna need to know how to do this," she said, and she turned her back to him so he could undo her bra. She could feel his hands shaking as he fumbled with the clasp. "Pay attention to how it works. There'll be a lot more in your future, and you wanna look suave with this kinda thing. The ladies like that."

Donna Lee taught him like that all night, keeping him in her room well after his little bit of money had run out. Scratch had a big ol' dick, that's for sure, a solid eight inches if Donna Lee was estimating correctly, and she usually did. It was quite the sight on a skinny boy like Scratch, and Donna Lee's eyes got big when she first saw it.

"My, my, Scratch! That's just the prettiest thing I've ever seen!" she said, and then she sucked it into her mouth and straight down her throat.

Needless to say, Scratch was suddenly very glad his new crew members had dragged him out to that old grey barge on that backwater creek that night.

After two years of hard work on the shrimp boat, Scratch had filled out with beautiful muscles and ripply six-pack abs. His curly blonde hair had highlights from the strong sun so light they looked like they were done with bleach. Twinkly blue eyes and a big, ever present smile completed the best package to ever climb aboard Oar House. The girls just loved him, and loved the fact that he didn't play favorites. All the girls had enjoyed Scratch's charms. But true to his word that night when he climbed the ladder, it was Lisa Lou's turn to be carried away on his "big ol' dick."

Lisa Lou's room was pink — all the girls got to choose their color — and it was decorated with a painting of herself, done by Momma of course, on a slab of salvaged wood one of the girls found washed up on shore. It was a super sexy portrait: Lisa Lou naked on her hands and knees, her back arched a little, looking back over her shoulder at the viewer. Momma captured it beautifully — it's one of those pictures where the eyes seem to follow you around the room. Of course most people aren't looking at the eyes, so pretty is Lisa Lou's ass in that position. At first Lisa Lou felt a little self conscious having it on her bedroom wall, but the men seemed to like it, and she loved having something personal of Momma's in her room. Almost every man who came through her doorway asked her for doggie style. She was pretty sure it was because of the picture.

Scratch gave it to her doggie style that night, and plenty of other ways too. She found herself wishing her walls were all covered with mirrors, so she could watch his beautiful ass flex as his big cock pounded into her from behind.

"Oh fuck Scratch!" she purred as he gave it to her. "God I love your cock baby!"

"Lisa Lou! Oh fuck Lisa Lou! This one's for Texas baby!" Scratch moaned as he came.

Lisa Lou loved it whenever anybody mentioned Texas during sex. It almost always made her cum for some reason, although with Scratch's big beautiful cock she didn't need any help in that department. She came hard when she felt his spasming, pulsing orgasm, both of them grunting loud enough to bring a smile to Momma's face as she washed up dishes in the kitchen.

———————

The next day was a beautiful one. The thick humid haze of the past few weeks had lifted, and a sky a deeper blue than anyone could remember lifted everybody's spirits.

"Eight new books! Can you believe it?" Donna Lee said with a smile. "Every single one of those boys brought us a book!" 

All six of Momma's girls were sunbathing on the top deck of the old barge, their naked bodies laid out on a mish-mash of old lawn furniture and yoga pads. It wasn't often they were all "up top" together, but the glorious day was too much to resist.

"My! You feel that cool breeze?" Lisa Lou asked no one in particular. "That's the nicest thing I've felt since Scratch's big cock last night."

"Yeah, we heard ya Louie," a sprightly little red-head said as she rolled onto her back, showing her pink-nippled tits and shaved, thick-lipped pussy to the circling gulls. "That boy sure can fuck."

Her name was Margo, but everybody called her Red. She was a rare thing on Oar House, a Yankee, from New York City no less.

"Damn straight he can!" Lisa Lou said. "But it's got a little curve to it, doesn't it?"

All the girls giggled.

"I love 'em when they curl like that," the voluptuous blonde laying next to Lisa Lou said. "They touch me all good up inside."

"I hear ya Coralee," Lisa Lou said.

Coralee was on her back on one of the yoga pads. A big girl from Mississippi, the huge tits some of the men liked so much oozed off the sides of her, jiggling like jello with every little move she made. In her former life she was a barbecue pit boss at a popular restaurant. The girl liked to eat almost as much as she liked to fuck.

Donna Lee looked through the stack of new books and picked up a yellow one: Without Feathers, by Woody Allen. She settled in for a quiet read as the southern sun darkened her already bronze flesh.

A half-hour later the quiet peacefulness of the late morning was broken by the distant sound of a throbbing motor.

"Here they come girls," Taylor said, sitting up from her yoga pad as she scanned the sky looking for the approaching sound.

Moans rose from two of the tired girls, awakened from their blissful sun-warmed slumber.

"There," Taylor said, pointing at the horizon over a distant marsh.

A black dot in the sky got bigger as the throbbing noise grew louder.

"I'm gonna give 'em a show this time," Ashley said.

She got up off her rickety lounge chair and straddled Coralee, who was flat on her back, half asleep.

"You don't mind, do ya honey?" Ashley asked.

"Fuck no," Coralee said, the sleepy words cut off as her mouth engulfed Ashley's pretty pussy.

A few moments later a big Coast Guard helicopter was over head, hovering just off the side of the old grey barge. The huge rotors whipped up the calm water as all the girls smiled and waved at the brave men. Ashley waved as Coralee licked her pussy, and then she dropped down and sixty-nined her big blonde friend, giving the boys in the chopper a good show. Some of the other girls fingered their pussies, and they all blew kisses at the big chopper as it rose up like a mighty beast, tilted slightly, and flew away into the bright blue sky.

The girls were just getting back to their half-asleep laziness when a small boat approached. It was a tournament style bass boat with a huge outboard motor, skimming across the water at about seventy miles-an-hour. When it got closer the girls could see it was Old Mitch at the controls, with a younger man by his side. Old Mitch was one of Momma's men, always disappearing into her room with her, leaving her with a happy disposition after he left. This was the first time they'd seen anybody with him though, so they all looked on with curiosity as he tied up. Old Mitch saw Lisa Lou looking down through the railing.

"I brought my boy's boy," Old Mitch said, looking up at Lisa Lou. "It's time he learned the ways o' the world."

Hearing that peaked all the girl's curiosity. In just a moments time they were all standing at the top deck railing, their bronzed, naked bodies shining in the sun as they looked down at the boy. When he caught sight of them he stumbled but regained his footing, trying to act casual as he helped his granddad tie up the boat.

Momma went out on deck to greet Old Mitch and his grandson. Mitch kissed her on the cheek.

"High school graduation present from his old Pop Pop," Old Mitch said quietly to Momma. "He ain't got any that I know of. It's well and truly time."

"Well, this is a special occasion," Momma said. "We'll pull out all the stops for this handsome boy."

Old Mitch smiled. "What you got ta say youngin'?" he asked the boy.

"Thank ya Ma'am. Thank ya indeed," the boy said.

"What's your name son?" Momma asked.

"Name's Kyle Ma'am," the boy said, "but most folks call me K.K."

"Well K.K., today's a day you won't ever forget," Momma said as she put her arm around him and walked him inside Oar House.

"Yes Ma'am. That's kinda what I'm hopin'," K.K. said with a nervous smile.

The girls already knew what was on Momma's mind, so they were making there way to their rooms to pretty themselves up. Lacy lingerie of all different styles went on their sun-warmed bodies, and almost at the same moment they emerged from their rooms and marched down the hall to greet Old Mitch and K.K. It was a sight to see as one after another strutted out of the dark hallway into the bright, fancifully decorated main room. K.K. loved parades when he was a little kid, but the one that day on Oar House was as fine a one as he had ever seen.

"Girls, this is K.K.," Momma said, her arm still around the handsome young man. "I'm hoping you can all make it a joint project to show him just how beautiful these bodies of all of ours are and how much pleasure is in store for him as he makes his way though the world. Let's get him off to a good start, shall we?"

The excitement of such a thing showed in all the girl's eyes, the sleepy, lazy morning giving way to a project that thrilled them all. They buzzed with enthusiasm as they surrounded the boy, his eyes wide with the wonder of it all. Momma and Old Mitch slipped away quietly into her bedroom.

"We got the back deck all ready last night, but we never used it," Taylor said. "Whaddya say girls?"

They all smiled at the thought. What better way to spend a glorious summer day than rolling around on soft cushions in the fresh air, making love to a virgin boy? They took K.K. by the hand and led him through Momma's spotless kitchen to the back deck.

"So have you done anything sexy yet honey?" Donna Lee asked as they all sat down on the soft cushions. K.K. sat cross-legged while the girls sprawled about every which-way.

"Not really, no," K.K. said sheepishly. "First base I guess."

"What's that honey? Titties?" she asked. K.K. nodded yes. "Ooo, we got a lot of nice ground to cover then, don't we? Let's teach him how to take off bras, okay girls? He can do us each one at a time."

Donna Lee sat in front of the boy and looked back over her shoulder at him. "You see how it works? That little jigger there, you just sort of unhook it."

K.K. fiddled with it and the girls all watched, like it was the best thing they'd seen in a long time. All of them seemed to be encouraging him with their eyes and their happy looking mouths. Suddenly it sprung loose, Donna Lee's eyes jumping as she felt it.

"That's it baby. Now put your hands on my back and slowly move 'em around my sides onto my titties," she said with a smile. "Oh fuck yeah!" she moaned as he did it, his hands coming to rest under her loose bra on her small but lovely tits. "Yeah," she purred, "do that to every girl you meet and they'll love ya baby. You feel my nipples sweetheart? You feel how hard they are for you?"


Oar House



K.K. felt her nipples between his fingers and then gently rolled them between his thumb and forefinger, warm breath gushing out of his nose onto Donna Lee's shoulder.

"Kiss my neck when you do that. Yeah, that's it. Oh fuck!" she moaned. "He's a natural girls, we're gonna have some fun today."

Donna Lee moved aside and Taylor took her place. Her bra was strapless, so when K.K. popped it free it flew off onto the cushion, propelled by the expansion of her big tits. The girls always laughed and said she got them from being a corn-fed Mid-Westerner up there in North Dakota, but really they just fit her body perfectly, a curvy, hour-glass shape that turned heads all the time.

K.K. proved to be a fast learner, his slightly trembling hands gliding lightly around Taylor's body, a little lower than he had done with Donna Lee. As they moved upward, cupping the warm, soft globes, he let out a moan.

"I think he's a tit man girls," Donna Lee said. "That's a heavenly sound by the way sweetheart," she said to K.K. "Don't ever be afraid to make noise when you're with a girl."

The four other girls all assumed the position in front of K.K., and by the time they were all topless he was a moaning, tit loving fool. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine such a thing happening to him — six sexy women letting him undress them, twelve glorious tits in his sweaty hands.

Taylor's were his favorite, but Red's pointy ones with the pink nipples were close behind. Lisa Lou, the tallest of the bunch, had some squishy ones too, and they seemed to have an extra inner warmth, like she had just gotten out of a hot shower. Ashley, with her deep southern drawl, was the most familiar to him, reminding him of some of the girls in high school. Her tits were the smallest, but her nipples stuck out super far. As he raked his fingers over them it drew a deep moan out of her. K.K. liked that a lot. Coralee's massive tits were way too big to hold in his hands. He loved the feel of them and the weight of them, and she reminded him a little of his mom. He wasn't sure what to think about that.

"You ready for more baby?" Donna Lee asked. "Cause we're all ready for more. You got us all hot and bothered sweetheart. I don't think we can stand goin' this slow anymore, right girls? Whaddya say we get this fine boy outta these clothes..."

Donna Lee wasted no time pulling the t-shirt off of him.

"Ooo! So smooth and young!" Taylor said. "Damn, you look good baby!"

K.K. sat transfixed, his eyes darting from one topless woman to another as they reached out and caressed his smooth chest and flat, muscular belly.

"Lay back doll," Coralee said. "It's time for you to loose your mind."

The girls eased him down as they straightened his crossed legs. Coralee unfastened his shorts and in an instant he was naked, his young cock flopping down on his belly fully hard.

"Sweet Jesus, will you look at that body!" Ashley said. "This boy could give Scratch a close-on run for his money!"

The girls all sat and let their eyes run all over the young man. He was thrilled with that alone — the thought that women that were so sexual could find him that appealing.

"Somebody go get the straws from Momma's kitchen drawer," Donna Lee said.

Every once in a while, when something good came along that they all wanted, the girls would draw straws to see who the winner was. This was one of those times. 

"We'll draw twice," Donna Lee said. "Once to see who's mouth he goes into first, and then to see who his first fuck is. That alright K.K.?"

"Yes Ma'am," he said, barely able to talk as hands caressed every inch of him.

Red gave Donna Lee the straws and the girls all drew. Coralee got the blowjob straw, and Red got the fuck.

"Lets not keep the poor boy wait'n. Looks like he's about to burst," Donna Lee said. "You ever see a boy so red before? He's got some hot blood in him, that's for sure."

All the girls took off their panties, like someone had given an unseen signal. It was kind of like when those flocks of birds all change direction at the same time in the sky, and K.K. couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. Pussies of all different types came into view.

Lisa Lou lifted K.K.'s head and sat herself down under it, making her soft, warm thigh a pillow for him. She stroked his soft hair as Coralee went to work, kissing his thighs as his legs spread. His hot cock was in her hand when she reached his balls, the soft, fleshy sack disappearing into her mouth as she moaned. Ashley was down below too, taking over the thigh kissing as Coralee moved on to the main event.

K.K. groaned as his hard cock slipped into Coralee's wet mouth. He lifted his head to watch but Taylor and Red were starting to work his chest, so he couldn't see much of the first-class blowjob artistry that Coralee was getting started with. His head went back down on Lisa Lou's thigh, her fingers in his hair hypnotizing him a little bit. Red licked her way up the smooth chest and planted a wet kiss on K.K.'s mouth just as Coralee's blowjob made him groan again. Red's tongue tried to slither down his throat, the same way his cock was heading down Coralee's.

There was no way in hell a boy with his lack of experience was going to last long under those circumstances, and he didn't. He yelped as he came, Red moving her mouth off his lips so everyone could hear the wonderful sound. As his young body was wracked with uncontrollable spasms, his beautiful virgin cock blew its seed deep in Coralee's mouth. She gobbled it up like the sweetest pasty cream in the bakery. As his body relaxed Red kissed him deep again while Lisa Lou stroked his hair. He must have died, maybe in the boat with his Pop Pop, and this was heaven. That was the only explanation. He was sure of it.

"The boy's got a sweet cock," Coralee said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Let me taste baby," Lisa Lou said.

Coralee kissed her deep while K.K. looked up at them, wondering when he was going to wake up from his unbelievable dream.

Ashley had moved in on him when Coralee was finished. She lay herself down on her belly between the boys legs, kissing and licking all the soft, tender parts of him. She got a little taste of his cum off the slippery shaft of his cock, only half hard but still beautiful.

Red continued kissing his mouth, K.K.'s tongue really getting into it as he started to realize he was going to survive this experience, and make the most of it.

"Oh baby!" Red moaned when she came up for air. She dove right in again, thinking to herself that she hadn't enjoyed kissing so much in as long as she could remember.

"Ooohh fuuuucck!" she sighed, as he started to devour the rest of her face and her soft neck. "We got a love machine on our hands ladies."

She kissed him deep on the mouth again, her hand finding his hardening cock.

"You wanna fuck me baby?" she cooed in his ear. "Fuck my pussy?Way down deep inside me? I want you to fuck me baby. Put this big cock in me. How do you want me baby? You want me on top? Doggie style? How do you want your first time to be?"

Even with her softly cooing sexy voice Red's New York City accent was noticeable. It sounded exotic to K.K., the freckle skinned, pointy titted redhead morphing into a pure dream before his eyes.

"I think he's kinda speechless Red," Ashley said, holding the young man's cock in her hand as she took a break from licking his soft, young balls. "Why don't ya just settle down on this nice thing. I think he'll like it just fine."

Red gave K.K. one last deep kiss and then swung her leg over him. The thick, protruding lips of her pussy seemed to have a mind of their own, gobbling up the rock hard young shaft. She looked down to watch it happen, and so did K.K. A pure and musical moan rose from his lungs and all the girls moaned a little too, almost as if his beautiful young cock had slid into all of them at the same time.

Red settled down and sat still while K.K. got used to the feeling. The look on his young face was priceless, but Red knew it was just going to get better. She took K.K.'s hands and put them on her pointy tits, letting him feel how hard her pink nipples had gotten.

"You okay baby?" she breathed out in a breathy sigh.

He nodded. Lisa Lou stroked her fingers through his soft hair. The other girls had backed off their touching and were just sitting, watching.

Red started to move, a slow up and down.

"Damn baby, you're super hard," she said. "Real long too. Such a nice cock."

K.K. gently squeezed Red's tits as she rode him. Beautiful moans vibrated out from deep inside his core. Her speed increased and K.K.'s hips started to join in.

"Oh yeah, fuck me baby!" she moaned.

As she slowly dropped her upper body down for another deep kiss her hips loosened up and started to fuck the boy with more intensity. 

"Yeah Red, fuck that boy," Taylor said.

Red pulled away from the kiss and locked her elbows, giving her tits some room to swing. The sight was just one more amongst a continuous stream of dream-like images for K.K., his poor young brain overloading from it all. He tried to caress the wildly swinging things, but was much too gentle for Red's liking.

"Squeeze 'em! Squeeze 'em hard!" she said, her voice insistent and out of breath.

K.K. pressed them hard against her chest, the pink nipples oozing between his fingers. His pelvis was thrusting powerfully, meeting every swiveling downstroke of Red's hips. It was a furiously fast fuck, youthful energy matched by Red's horny enthusiasm. The girls were all wide eyed and amazed that the first timer hadn't popped yet, and then it happened — a few more furious thrusts of his hips accompanied by a loud devilish groan. Much to her delight, and everyone else's too, Red came right along with K.K. with a squeal and an open mouthed smile. Her swiveling hips throttled back slowly as she looked deep into K.K.'s eyes, their two souls connected in the deepest of ways.

"Damn! I could just eat him up!" Coralee said.

Red went back to a deep, soulful kiss with the young man as his cock slowly softened inside her.

"Holy fuck, where'd you learn how to kiss?" she said as she caught her breath, and then she locked lips again.

"Come on Red, it's our turn honey," Donna Lee said.

"I guess I'll let you have him," Red said with a smirk.

No sooner had she rolled off the boy when Ashley moved in to clean up his sticky cock with her tongue.

"Sorry to break this up," Momma said from the kitchen window, "but Mitch says the boy's Momma'll get suspicious if they don't head back soon.

"Oh Momma! Red's the only one who had a turn with him!" Coralee said.

"Don't worry, he'll be back," Momma said. "Mitch bought some credit for the boy, and he got his own boat for graduation."

"Is that right K.K?" Red asked. "You'll come see us again?"

"Yes ma'am, I sure will," he said as he pulled on his shorts.

The girls, in all their naked glory, walked K.K. down the side deck toward the boarding ladder. Red gave him one last tongue kiss, and then kissed his forehead before helping him down the steps into his granddad's boat. He looked a bit stunned, but happy. 

"Thankya girls," Old Mitch said. "Y'all are the best."

"How much you wanna bet he marries a redhead?" Coralee said as the boat zoomed away, Momma and the six naked girls all smiling and waving in the mid-day sun.

———————

Momma was a wiry thing in her youth, but as she aged and became a better cook, especially past fifty and into her sixties, she'd gotten bigger and bigger until she was well rounded. There were still plenty of men who liked that kind of thing — a sixty-something mother figure with plenty of meat on her bones. They were generally the type who liked to suck on tits, and Momma liked nothing better than to have a handsome young man sucking on hers. She loved sex like a songbird loved the rain, and savored every moment of her time with a man.

Her love of sex is why she started Oar House. It had nothing to do with money, she never had much use for it and she had more than she needed. No, it was a pure desire to have more sex in her life, to sort of surround herself with it, the sights and the sounds of it. Nothing made her happier than sitting out on the deck of the old barge at night, listening to her girls talking dirty as the men moaned, their bodies slapping together in a furious fuck, the sound of it all drifting out the windows into the warm, humid night air.

Momma had had a long, happy marriage. Twenty-five years of being a good housewife to a kind-hearted man. Infertility kept her childless. She would have loved to have adopted, but she knew her dear husband wasn't comfortable with the idea, so she didn't push for it. Even though she loved her life with him, when he died from stress and cancer after building a thriving business Momma decided the second half of her life would be completely different. 

She had always enjoyed a good romance novel — the steamier the better — and sexy movies too. She was the one who brought home the movie rentals to watch with her husband. Showgirls, Eye's Wide Shut, Indecent Proposal, 9 1/2 Weeks and Body Heat all made it into the living room VCR. Momma's fascination with sex was always just a curiosity to her husband. He took advantage of it of course, and they made love after all those movies, but it was plain-jane sex. Momma always dreamt of more. After he died, and a long and proper period of mourning, she took a trip to New Orleans. All alone in the exciting city, she ate incredible food and listened to music that made her heart sing. Financially secure and free to do what she wanted, she sold her home and took a small apartment in the French Quarter. It was on the second floor, with a fancy iron railing surrounding a balcony overlooking the street. Women of the evening were a common sight in her neighborhood, and before long she was chatting with them from her balcony. A friendship quickly blossomed with a woman named Tiffany. She lived a few blocks up the street, but worked Momma's block because it was busier.

When things were slow Momma would invite her in for coffee and homemade muffins, or maybe a scone with some homemade jam. Tiffany quickly learned that Momma loved to hear all the juicy details about her work, fascinated by stories about conservative looking businessmen, how they were in bed, the sizes and shapes of their cocks. Coffee and sweets with Tiffany was Momma's favorite part of the week.

After a few months of that, emboldened by her new knowledge of the Big Easy's underworld, Momma took a job at a whorehouse. Not just any job either. At fifty years of age, with more money in the bank than she'd ever be able to spend, Momma took a job as a whore.

She'd assumed there'd be an adjustment period. Everybody told her there would be, coming in cold-turkey as she was. Funny thing was, she loved it, right from day one. Getting fucked by 'strange cock' was the most thrilling thing she'd ever experienced in her life. And she got paid for it! Oh sure, there were some bad times, but on the whole she loved it. She did think the house was run poorly though, and a lot of the girls were sad cases when they showed up, and sometimes even sadder when they left. That bothered her, the age difference between her and most of the girls giving her a powerful mothering instinct with them. She knew she could do better, and a germ of an idea was in place.

If she did open a house of her own, being financially independent meant that her girls could keep every dollar they earned. That way they could get on their feet and make something of their lives. The only downside she foresaw was that lots of people — most people even — tend to spend what they earn as fast as they make it. So she decided she could set up an account for the girl's earnings, handled by a proper financial advisor, and whenever a girl wanted to move on she'd get her percentage of the money. If there were six girls and one wanted to move on, one sixth of the account would be withdrawn for her to help start her new life.

Of course Momma would be left covering all the other expenses, room and board, clothing and whatnot. That could get expensive with New Orleans real estate costs and taxes. Not to mention the legal issues of opening a 'house of ill repute' in this day and age. So Momma was stumped. Frustrated by the problems, but still mulling it over in her mind.

One of the girls Momma worked with grew up on a boat. Her father fished a little, scratching out a meager living from the sea. She and Momma often walked down to the waterfront in the morning, clearing their heads and breathing in the pungent river air. They enjoyed the commercial docks the most, and often saw customers that they knew from the house. One day they sat down on the dock, hanging their legs over, tossing bits of beignet to a gull when Momma saw it. A big ugly barge, with lots of small windows along the side decks and a glassed in wheelhouse up forward, near the bow. A large FOR SALE sign was tacked up to the fading, peeling paint.

It was an ungainly looking vessel, but Momma saw the beauty in it. She went to the dock worker's office to inquire about it, they made a call to the broker, and later that day Momma was aboard, crawling on her hands and knees through the bilge. The steel hull and decks were in pretty good shape and the boat was dry inside, but the wooden superstructure was in serious need of love and attention. Momma had lots of that to give. She had a fishing boat captain look it over — he was a customer of hers at the house — and a week later she was the proud owner of an ex Core Of Engineers maintenance barge.

Captain Eugene helped Momma with the re-fit of the old vessel. He even came up with the name. As part of the clean-out he found a nice pair of wooden oars in the engine room. He brought them up on deck where Momma was working and held them up between two of the windows, criss-crossed so they looked nice. "Why don't you call her Oar House," he said with a big smile on his face. Momma laughed, and sure enough the name stuck. So did the oars, bright red now, hanging right where Captain Eugene held them up.

Momma spent quite a bit of money on Oar House, but there was a lot of barter too. There were seven girls that were interested in Momma's proposal to live on the barge, Tiffany from her street was one of them, and all of them and Momma herself traded plenty of sexual favors for equipment and labor to get the boat recommissioned. The work was hard. Between all the extra fucking and sucking and the cleaning and painting, the girls and Momma herself didn't have much energy left for their regular jobs at the house. But it was exciting work, and they could all see the future taking shape.

Finally, after six months of hard work, Oar House was ready. Captain Eugene had already sea-trialed the old vessel and proclaimed her safe and sound, but Momma had yet to take the wheel. With a swirling flock of screaming gulls overhead, and Captain Eugene by her side, Momma engaged the big propeller and swung the big ship's wheel through her hands. The engine, being at the far end of Oar House, was nearly silent as the big barge began to move. The feeling of 'something big' happening overwhelmed Momma, and tears streamed down her cheeks. She was a whore in New Orleans — it had always been the most exciting job she could ever imagine — and now this, the captain of her own ship. Life couldn't possibly get any better.

———————

Of course life on the old barge had its challenges. The scariest were tropical storms. The worst was a hurricane that was a near miss, but it still played plenty of havoc. It was just a year ago, and Momma still thanks the heavens that Captain Eugene had retired the year before so he was able to help her instead of taking care of the sixty-foot shrimp boat he used to own.




Oar House



A beautiful late summer week with business as usual on Oar House had grown tenser and tenser as the storm forecast grew more and more ominous. Tropical storm warnings grew into Hurricane warnings while Momma and the girls braced for the worst. The VHF radio was crackling with life. Momma was in almost constant touch with Captain Eugene, feeling reasonably confident she had done everything he had told her, but both of them were worried the big barge didn't have enough ground tackle to hold her in a big blow. Two huge fisherman anchors were the main line of defense, but Captain Eugene was wishing Momma had more.

As darkness started to fall and blinding sheets of rain swept across the deck, Momma and the girls were as quiet as they'd ever been, hoping that not talking about what was happening would make it all go away. The old barge was tucked into a tree-lined marsh, the closest thing to a 'hurricane hole' Captain Eugene could think of in their region. There was nobody around for miles, and the deep grey gloom just intensified the loneliness.

The radio crackled to life again. "Oar House, this is Eugene. We're approaching from your stern. Over."

Momma couldn't believe her ears. The girls all ran out on deck, the warm rain soaking them in seconds. They caught Eugene's line and helped two men climb aboard. They were fisherman, customers of Oar House, and the girls gave them a wet hug before they sprang into action.

They checked Momma's anchoring set-up, adjusted a few things and added some tie-downs and chaffing gear to the dinghies and other items lashed on deck. Meanwhile, Captain Eugene and two other men were circling the big barge in their boat, setting out more anchors in a carefully laid-out plan, taking into account the wind directions and shifts expected during the night. They finished just before pitch darkness, with the wind howling.

The boat they arrived on was a problem. They tucked it in close behind the transom of Oar House, hoping the wind shadow of the big barge would give it some protection. Everyone on board was soaked to the bone when they made their way into the kitchen to dry off, the smell of beef stew and the warm glow of the oil lamps a stark contrast to the mayhem outside.

With no dry clothes that fit the men, everyone sat around the big table naked and warmed themselves with hot food and good liquor. Momma put some dixieland jazz on the stereo to try and drown out the howling wind.

It wasn't long before the food was gone and an all-out orgy had broken out in the big living room. For hours the big barge creaked and groaned as it pulled hard on it's anchors. The men took turns going out into the storm to check the chaffing gear and anchor rodes, returning soaking wet to a heroes welcome from the wildly horny girls. Something about sex in a hurricane had them all super hot and fucking their brains out. Lisa Lou claims she had sixteen orgasms that night, an all time record for her.

The girls still talk about that night, sometimes wondering if Captain Eugene picked the men for their sexual prowess. Of course he didn't, the girls just got lucky is all. Captain Eugene proved to be no slouch himself. Up until that time, Momma had been the only one he'd been with. Momma, too, fucked her brains out that stormy night. Having her be a part of the orgy was a thrill for the girls, her noisy, free and easy orgasms music to their ears.

A year later, those four fisherman still get special treatment when they visit Oar House. The 'hurricane orgy' has become legendary amongst the fishing fleet. Without a doubt plenty of other fisherman are hoping for another hurricane, so they can 'help out' the big barge named Oar House.

———————

The current girls all came to Oar House well after Momma got things started. All the original girls had moved on, taking their cut of the 'girls account' to start new lives. It was always tearful when Momma handed them a big check. The money was overwhelming to them, yes, but leaving the camaraderie and family of the big old barge was emotional too.

Donna Lee had the record for staying the longest. Momma secretly hoped she'd take over Oar House someday, although Momma was hopeful that day was far in the future. Momma wanted to die peacefully in her sleep, with the waves under Oar House rocking her gently, but not until she was good and old. There were still a lot of hard cocks she wanted to stroke, and dirty books to read.

Day-to-day life had a nice rhythm aboard the old vessel. The evenings and late into the night were all about satisfying the customers. Generally the mornings were all about quiet time for the girls, and sometimes the afternoons too.

Hygiene was a big deal on the barge, and every day the soft morning light illuminated a parade of naked girls making their way to the shower. Captain Eugene and Momma had designed and built a rain-water collection system that utilized the huge top deck to gather water. It was filtered and pumped into a series of metal tanks, painted black to soak up the heat from the strong southern sun. Simple gravity brought the warm water to the shower, which was on the bridge-deck in the open air, with a flimsy wooden privacy screen that the girls usually left open.

Laundry was done with the rainwater too, the old fashioned way in buckets on deck with an old fashioned roller to squeeze out the water. The clotheslines were usually full of lingerie of all types fluttering in the breeze. The girls didn't wear much else. 

Of course they had regular clothes that they wore when they left the boat for town. Momma encouraged them to get out in the real world as much as they wanted, and didn't even mind if they freelanced a bit when they were on land, as long as they didn't get into trouble. The last thing Momma wanted was for any of them to feel like they we imprisoned in any way by living on Oar House. The girls never did feel that way though, they loved Momma, and Oar House was the most wonderful home most of them had ever had.

There were three boats available for the girls to use for transportation — an old surplus troop carrier and two smaller dinghies with motors. The troop carrier was a simple open boat, long and narrow, with lots of seats. They used it to ferry supplies out to Oar House when they were at anchor for long periods of time. All the boats were carried on deck, with a mast and boom set up with an electric winch to raise and lower them over the side. For recreation there were two old sunfish sailboats, a few plastic kayaks, a canoe, and some decent fishing gear for the girls who liked that kind of thing.

It all sounds idyllic and it quite often was, but the real world intruded once in a while too. Things needed to be repaired or replaced now and then, so Momma had plenty of specialists on call, paying them off with time credits to spend with the girls. She drew fifty dollar bills on pieces of paper, with her smiling face in the middle where Ulysses S. Grant should be. Nobody could forge them, because nobody drew like Momma. She didn't like to abuse that though, because it meant the girls were paying with their time, so she dipped into her savings to pay for things too. It all worked out nicely, with everybody's finances growing thanks to wise investments.

The other big 'real world' item was law enforcement, or preferably the lack there-of. Not only was Momma shrewd, she was just plain nice. The local Sheriff, Coast Guard officers and even the Air National Guard all loved Momma, and were regular customers. Gratis, of course. That arrangement reached the peak of its usefulness one night about two years ago...

"Easy big boy, I'm not a blow-up doll ya know," Ashley said.

"You'll take it baby. You know ya want it like this."

The smelly, greasy haired man flipped her little body around and pressed her face-down into the bed sheet, forcing his hand between her thighs and wrenching her ass up.

"Hey, what the fuck!" Ashley said. "Take it easy and we can have some fun. No anal though, that's not my thing."

"You just ain't had it done right yet sugar," the man growled.

"Oh, I had it done righter than you'll ever do it, and it just ain't my thing I tell ya."

The greasy man persisted, and Ashley reached beside her mattress and pushed the emergency button. The girls all had one, but they were seldom used. The normal clientele was an amiable bunch of guys, but on that night an out-of-state fishing boat crew was visiting, and there were a few troublemakers. Ashley had one, Red had one, and Coralee had one. Momma was heading down the hallway with a pistol in her hand responding to Ashley's alarm when she heard Red call out, and then there was a terrible fracas in Coralee's room. Just as Momma swung open Ashley's door she saw Coralee drag a groggy half-conscious man out into the hallway.

"Coralee, check on Red will ya?" Momma said as she held a gun on Ashley's man. "What in tarnation is goin' on here tonight boys?" she asked the man.

"Just havin' some fun Ma'am," the greasy man said. "That's whatcher here for, ain't it? I paid my money, I'm gonna fuck this here girl in whatever hole I wanna!"

"That's not how we operate here mister," Momma said, still holding the gun on him. "It's time for you boys to go."

She'd no sooner gotten the words out of her mouth when another man grabbed her arm from behind and took her gun. Donna Lee had seen the whole mess unfold. She took a handheld VHF radio out on the back deck where she wouldn't be heard and sent out a distress call before shouldering Momma's shotgun and aiming it down the hall.

"Troops are on their way boys," she said as she cocked the gun. "We've got friends in high places. The next move's yours."

Donna Lee wasn't kidding when she said the troops were on the way. Just as the stand-off in the long hallway reached its peak of tension, the sound of a big helicopter could be heard approaching. The man holding Momma's pistol dropped it and he and all the other men hustled on out of there, mumbling under their breath about crazy whores.

They sped off in the darkness with no lights on their boat, but within five minutes the Coast Guard chopper had them under their huge searchlights and escorted them somewhere to have a nice chat with them.

Momma was happy with the outcome, and the girls paid the brave Coast Guard officers back with many favors over the next few weeks, but nobody on Oar House slept very well that night.

———————

Like any watercraft in salty, briny, brackish water, Oar House needs her bottom scrubbed every once in a while. It's messy work, and expensive, so the girls help out to keep the costs down. Momma has the big barge hauled out at a yard that services the fishing fleet, and of course she's got customers there, including the owner, who gives Momma a break on costs and lets the girls help out with the labor. No one looks forward to it, but it's work that has to be done.

About a year ago Oar House was 'on the hard' when a local Baptist minister came by to bless a new fishing boat that was being christened. He was astonished to see the six girls standing underneath the big barge, Coralee blasting away with a power washer while the others scraped off gunk and barnacles and old bottom paint with putty knives. All six of them were soaking wet, their old, dirty t-shirts and shorts soaked right through. Of course the girls being the girls, there wasn't a single bra amongst them. It was as sexy a scene of female workers as you'll ever see anywhere.

The minister had heard about Oar House, but he was fairly new in town and hadn't seen the barge or its crew 'in the flesh' as it were. After the fishing boat was launched and the christening ceremony was over, he lingered behind so as to have a chat with Momma. She was busy too, opening five-gallon cans of bottom paint and getting the paint rollers set up and ready for the girls.

"Hello Pastor. Beautiful day, isn't it?" Momma said as the black-robed young man approached.

"Yes Ma'am, it certainly is one of God's better efforts," the pastor said.

They introduced themselves and the pastor helped Momma move one of the heavy cans so she could open it.

"I've heard about you folks," the pastor said, "and I'm glad to get a chance to meet you."

"It's a pleasure to meet you too Pastor," Momma said. "I hope you've heard good things about us."

"That depends on how you look at things I guess," he said.

As he said it he was looking at things quite intently, those things being all the lovely tits on display, jiggling beautifully under soaking wet t-shirts as the girls all worked with their arms over their heads.

Momma knew the look in his eyes well, and had a feeling she could add a new 'friend of Oar House' to the long list. A business like hers could never have enough friends in high places.

"I'm afraid today's not a very good day to meet everybody Pastor," Momma said. "Why don't you come visit us some quiet day. Late mornings are a nice peaceful time. You could meet all the girls, and I'd love it if you'd bless this humble ship of ours. It'd bring me some comfort the next time a hurricane rolls in."

"Momma, I'd be delighted to bless this ship," the pastor said. "Lord knows we can all use all the help we can get in a hurricane."

Momma told the pastor were he'd be likely to find them, and after another big eyeful of jiggling tits he left them to their work.

A few days later, on a warm, humid morning at the edge of an uninhabited marsh, a small aluminum skiff approached Oar House, pushed through the sparkling water by a buzzing little outboard motor. A man dressed in black was at the controls, the little boat gliding gently up to the boarding ladder as Momma spread word to the girls who was arriving. There was a bit of a scramble as two naked sunbathers high-tailed it down off the top deck to put on some respectable clothes.

"What a pleasant surprise!" Momma said as she walked the side deck to greet the pastor as he ascended the boarding ladder. "You're just in time for my famous sticky buns."

"That'll be fine!" the pastor said.

Dressed in a short-sleeved black clergy shirt and black pants, the pastor looked younger and certainly fitter than the other day in his flowing robe.

Donna Lee was the first to join them on deck, dressed in her finest Sunday-go-to-church clothes. This time she had chosen a pastel yellow dress, below the knee of course, trimmed with a white sash and a white collar. A pretty white bonnet with a yellow bow and a wide, lacy brim set it off perfectly.

"Pastor, I'd like you to meet Donna Lee," Momma said. "She's been with me for nine years now, isn't that right Donna Lee?"

"The best nine years of my life," Donna Lee said as the pastor took her hand in both of his. "Momma's made a real home for us here."

"I've recently done some ministering in Atlanta, and I do believe you sound like you're from over that way," the pastor said, still holding her hand.

"Well yes sir I am! I'm from Decatur!" Donna Lee said with a beautiful smile. 

Coralee and Ashley were the next two out into the sunlight to greet the pastor, followed by Lisa Lou, Red and Taylor. All had nice dresses on, not quite up to Donna Lee's standards, but nice and respectable. Lisa Lou and Red's bare feet gave away a little bit of mischief though.

"My, my," the pastor said with a smile. "Pretty girls on a summer morning. I don't think there's a better way to prove God exists."

They all made their way into the main party room to get out of the hot sun. Momma brought out a tray of sticky buns that were still warm from the oven. Donna Lee poured coffee for everybody, and the conversation was polite and church-like. After two big sticky buns and two cups of coffee the pastor spoke up, his voice soft but forceful.

"Please join me on the deck of this fine ship, so we can bring the blessings of the Lord to protect y'all on your journey."

The pastor stood outside the door to the wheelhouse with everyone gathered around, and said his blessings. Everyone bowed their heads in prayer.

"Donna Lee, would you like to give the pastor a tour?" Momma asked when the little service was over.

"I'd be happy too Momma!" Donna Lee said. "Pastor, would you care to join me?"

She took his arm and led him around to the screened in back deck, in through the spotless kitchen, and down the narrow hallway with all the little bedrooms. The pastor was fascinated by all the different colors in all the rooms, and the personalized decorations. Lisa Lou's pink room in particular caught his eye, although Donna Lee was pretty sure it was Momma's painting on the wall—the one of Lisa Lou on all fours with her pretty little pussy showing—that really made the pastor linger there.

Donna Lee's room was at the end of the hall, one of two rooms with an extra window which brought in a nice fresh breeze on that humid morning. Painted a pale yellow even lighter than her summer dress, it was a bright cheerful room, with one of Momma's non-erotic paintings on the wall — two birds on a branch touching their beaks together in front of a bright blue sky. It was also slightly bigger than the other rooms—a privilege of seniority—with just enough room for a nice upholstered chair next to the bed. 

"My goodness Donna Lee, you are a serious reader," the pastor said as he perused her bookshelves.

"Do you like to read Pastor?" she asked.

"Can you keep a secret my dear?" he asked.

"I'm very good at that Pastor. Nothing leaves my lips," she said seductively.

"I'm partial to a romance novel now and then," he said quietly. "Thank the Lord for e-books, because I used to have to go out of town to buy the paperbacks. I see you like a little bit of the steamy yourself."

He pulled a paperback off the shelf and settled down in the easy chair. The cover showed a woman in a tiny, torn dress nestling against the muscled chest of a mostly naked man, his long hair blowing in the wind.

"It is ironic, isn't it?" Donna Lee said. "Living the life I do, you'd think I'd want to read about something else."

"I believe God made some people to be happy doing certain things," the pastor said. "I believe you're one of those people Donna Lee. Rarely do I see someone as content with their life as you seem to be."

"You know pastor, I feel...like I bring pleasure into peoples lives. Like I'm doing good here," she said. "Does that sound ridiculous, coming from someone like me?"

Donna Lee took off her bonnet, hung it on a hook, and fluffed her hair in the mirror.

"Before I met you I might have said yes," the pastor said, "but now, knowing you a little bit as I feel I do, no, not ridiculous at all."

Donna Lee smiled. It was a magical smile that she possessed, and it had a powerful effect on men.

"It's so quiet and peaceful," the pastor said. "I wouldn't even know there was anybody else on board."

"I believe they're out on the back deck, enjoying this summer breeze," Donna Lee said as she sat on the bed, curling her legs up around her. "I do love it when they're back there. It gives me a wonderful sense of privacy, like I'm the only woman in the world. Have you ever read a story like that Pastor, where it's just you, and the only woman in the world?"

"I believe I should write one, just like that," he said. "Would you like to be a character in a book? I believe you'd be just the one for such a story."

"Oh my! Wouldn't that be fun! To be a character in a book!" she said, with a smile that was at once childlike and sexy as all get-out. "What would we do? Would you be the man?"

"I believe I would be," the pastor said, with a growing twinkle in his eye.

"Would it be steamy hot, like it is today?" Donna Lee asked.

"Yes, I believe it would," the pastor said.

"The men in those books, they rarely wear shirts you know, and even less when it's steamy hot," Donna Lee said. "And there's lots of lingerie on the women, all the better to feel the breeze on your skin. Shall we pretend Pastor? I do like to pretend."




Oar House



The pastor started unbuttoning his black clergy shirt, revealing a well-built upper body. Not quite a book cover chest, but nicer than Donna Lee expected.

Donna Lee, meanwhile, slipped her summer dress off with one well practiced swish of the arms, leaving her in pure white lingerie—an impossibly sexy little bra and high-cut panties with pretty lace trim.

"My, that does feel better, doesn't it?" she said with that wonderful smile. "The woman, she's often at the man's feet, isn't she. Sort of nestled between his legs, looking up at him longingly."

Donna Lee slithered off the edge of the bed to a pose on the floor that mimicked one she'd seen on one of those book covers, her legs curled around her as she sat between the pastor's strong legs, her arms draped over his muscular thighs. His black pants were a bit tighter than you'd expect to see on a preacher, but they looked good on him. Donna Lee's face was close to the crotch, which was bulging noticeably from the pressure within.

"Those women, they often run their hands across the man's stomach muscles, and up onto his chest," Donna Lee said as she did it, feeling the perspiration on the pastor's warm skin. "I do love hot, steamy days. Do you Pastor?"

"I do. I very much do," the pastor said quietly.

Donna Lee's skill at unfastening clothing had the pastor's pants open and his cock in her mouth before either of them could think much about it.

"Oh Donna Lee..." the pastor moaned.

Donna Lee moaned too, the salty taste and rich scent of a man's cock on a warm day filling her senses.

The pastor's cock was average in size, with a nice chunky girth. Donna Lee was delighted with how hard it was.

"My goodness Pastor, it's been a long time since I've felt a man as hard as you," she said in her deep southern drawl.

She stroked the hard flesh with her small hand as she inhaled its scent.

"Those women in those books," she said in a breathy, sexy voice as she removed his shoes and socks, "they like to peel the clothes off of their men. Stand up Pastor, so I can peel off your clothes."

He stood silently while Donna Lee pulled the black pants off his legs, and the Clergy shirt slipped down off his arms.

"My, my," she said. "You are a fine looking man!"

Donna Lee spoke the truth. The pastor was what in some circles would be called 'ripped'. Strong arms and a well defined chest, a V-shaped abdomen pointing at his rock-hard cock, and thick, muscular thighs. There was very little hair on his body, just some short, well-trimmed darkness framing his manhood. Donna Lee pressed her body against the handsome man and took his cock in her hand.

"The women in those books," she sighed, looking up into the pastor's eyes, "they're often taken rather forcefully. I always think it's hot when I read those scenes, don't you Pastor?"

The pastor took a firm hold of the back of Donna Lee's head and thrust his tongue deep into her mouth. Donna Lee moaned. His hands slid down her sweaty back, under the thin lace of her little panties, and his fingers found her little pucker hole before moving under her to her steamy wet pussy. One hand shifted to the front of her, two fingers sliding deep into her wetness while the other hand played with her asshole. Donna Lee loved that feeling, two strong hands taking her most private parts from both sides, and her deep moans and slithering tongue told the pastor how she felt.

"Just what are you gonna do to me sir?" Donna Lee said, playing the part of a weak woman being taken. "I'm a proper Sunday school girl you know. My Daddy wouldn't approve..." she sighed.

The pastor picked her up and threw her on the bed. He pulled off her panties, held her legs up against his chest and thrust hard into her dripping wet pussy.

"Oh My!" Donna Lee said.

The pastor thrust hard, almost violently, into pretty little Donna Lee. The bright light of day streamed into her small windows, and the thick, humid air engulfed them, pulling a shiny sheen of sweat to the surface of their skin. Donna Lee could feel the slipperiness of the pastor's chest against the back of her legs as his body moved.

"Fuck me Pastor! Fuck your little church girl!" she said, her voice breathless but insistent as she was fucked hard. "Oh my!"

Donna Lee could always sense the rising orgasm in her man, and she had a wonderful ability to join in if the situation was sufficiently erotic. This one certainly was. Simultaneous orgasms was one of her finest skills. As the pastor climbed toward one of the biggest he'd ever had, Donna Lee marched right up that hill with him, exploding in a spasming, quietly screaming melt-down that took the pastor on one of the sweetest rides of his life.

"Oh my!" Donna Lee said quietly when the rush had calmed. "That's way better than any book I've ever read."

The pastor was still fucking her, slowly and gently as his cock softened, and Donna Lee moaned, a low moan from deep within her.

"Lie down with me Pastor, and let this steamy air seep into us," Donna Lee said.

She took off her bra as he lay himself down, and she nestled up against his sweaty body, her leg thrown over his big thigh, her hand caressing his chest.

"I do believe this is my favorite morning of my entire life," she said.

"I may have to agree," the pastor said as they both closed their eyes.

After nearly dozing off in the summer heat, Donna Lee's hand found the pastor's still sticky cock, and it swelled with life as she massaged it.

"Looks like we can work on another chapter," she said sweetly as she felt it grow. "This may sound kinky, but I've always dreamt of a man of the cloth taking me from behind. I want to feel that silver cross around your neck dangling on my back with you deep inside me. Do you think we could do that Pastor?"

"Yes, Ma'am, we can certainly do that," the pastor said. "Would you do me the favor of wearing your Sunday bonnet Donna Lee?"

"Why yes I will!" Donna Lee said, thrilled at being asked.

She took the pretty white hat with the yellow bow and the wide, lacy brim off the hook and put it on. The purity of her nakedness, her glorious, radiant smile, and the pretty hat on her head was the prettiest picture of womanhood the pastor had ever seen. 

"You are a sight for sore eyes Donna Lee," he said.

Donna Lee crawled onto the bed on her hands and knees. The pastor ran his hands over her warm skin, still moist from their sweaty fuck. His hands found her dangling breasts, small but oh so pretty, and the hard nipples that gave away her arousal.

"Would you do me the favor of wearing your clergy shirt Pastor?" Donna Lee asked with a moan as he fondled her tits. "Leave it open in the front, so your cross can dangle on me."

The Pastor pulled on his shirt and Donna Lee's eyes gave away her excitement. The Pastor took his position behind her, his hard cock sliding into her now familiar insides.

"Oh Donna Lee!" he moaned as he bottomed out, balls deep.

Donna Lee looked back over her shoulder, peaking out under the wide brim of her hat at the sight she'd dreamt of since she was a girl: a man of the cloth, fucking her deep from behind, in her Sunday-go-to-church hat no less.

Donna Lee's pussy was a glorious thing, still tight even after all the cocks she'd had in her, and possessing muscular control that drove men wild. For some reason those muscles were at their best in the doggie position, and the Pastor was reveling in every contraction. So mind altering was the feeling he almost forgot about Donna Lee's request, but it did finally make its way into his overwhelmed brain and he lowered his upper body down. The cross around his neck was a hefty one, on a thick silver chain, and when Donna Lee felt it dangling on her sweaty back shivers went through her and goosebumps raised on every square inch of her flesh. Usually she had perfect control over her orgasms, but one rose up unexpected when she felt that cross, washing over her like warm water from heaven itself. It was a slow-burn orgasm, staying with her for the longest time as the world around her ceased to exist.

The pastor knew she was flying, and it didn't take long for him to join her in that heady place, soaring through the heavens even as their bodies were rooted to the earth, intermingled in life's purest form.

Momma and the girls put down their books and got up off their lounge chairs when the pastor emerged from the kitchen door onto the back deck. Donna Lee was on his arm, in her pretty yellow dress and hat.

"I do hope you enjoyed your tour of our home," Mamma said to the pastor.

"Yes indeed," he said. "It is a special place, I must say. So peaceful and rejuvenating."

"We hope you'll come by often," Momma said. "The girls would all love to show you their rooms. There's some special treasures for you to discover."

"I believe I've already discovered one. Very special indeed," he said, looking at Donna Lee. "I'm afraid though, I really must be going. A busy afternoon awaits."

The girls all walked the pastor to the boarding ladder and watched as his little skiff buzzed away, all of them waving, their pretty dresses blowing in the summer breeze.

About once a month or so that buzzing outboard motor pushes that little skiff out to Oar House with the pastor in his black preacher clothes at the controls. It's always on a quiet, peaceful morning, when he's the only visitor. He's had a 'tour' of each of the girl's rooms, and is working his way back through the line-up for the second time. Donna Lee always looks forward to her next turn with the pastor, and the rapturous orgasms that always overtake her when she's with him.

"It's as if God himself is fucking me," she's said more than once.

————————

When Mama had first introduced the Pastor to Donna Lee, and told him she had been with her on Oar House for nine years, it made Mama aware of the passage of time, and how special the big barge and all the girls had been to her. Without telling anybody, she began planning a celebration party to take place on the ten year anniversary of the day she first stepped behind the big ship's wheel, the day she broke free of the dock for the first time as Oar House's captain.

Captain Eugene had been helping her with the plans. Music is a way of life in New Orleans, and everybody knows at least a handful of musicians. Eugene, an amateur trumpet player himself, knew dozens of 'em, so he put together a dixieland band for the party, hand picking men and two women that he knew would have a ball when the wild party got rolling.

As the big day grew closer Momma of course told the girls all about the party plans, so they could all join in the preparations. The girls were thrilled with the idea of a big blow-out, a wild party to end all wild parties, and they took pride in sprucing up Oar House so she'd look her best on the big day. All of their free time was spent with scrub brushes, sandpaper and paint brushes in their hands, a smiling group of happy women, slathering paint on each other's half naked bodies and laughing hysterically as they dove in the sparkling water to clean themselves up.

Momma helped out of course, but she also had her hands full planning the menu and the drink situation, gradually stocking in cases of every kind of liquor and wine you can imagine. She hired two bartenders, and a mother/daughter catering team to help prepare food and do the serving. The mother/daughter thing worried her a little until she met them, but they assured Momma they'd 'seen it all' and were eager to take the job. Momma could sense that news of the celebration was getting around, and folks from all walks of life were angling to somehow be onboard for the big event.

The guest list was difficult for Momma. Oar House was a big barge, but she didn't want it so crowded that it was dangerous or uncomfortable, so she decided one-hundred would be the magic number, not counting the various workers. Her long-time customers were in, of course, as were any of the law enforcement and Coast Guard community that looked after her. Some of them were grateful for the invitation but decided not to attend lest it be too publicly conspicuous. The pastor was invited but politely declined. Old Mitch would of course be there, as would his grandson K.K. and K.K.'s best friend, who had become regular customers. Scratch Wilson and a bunch of the shrimp boat fisherman would be there too.

A week before the big day the girls heard a helicopter approaching, thinking it was one of the usual flybys by the Coast Guard boys. 

"What the heck's he got hangin' underneath?" Ashley said.

Momma heard it too and came out on deck.

"Make way girls. Got a surprise comin'," she said. 

As the helicopter got closer the girls realized is wasn't the Coast Guard, it was a private chopper with a large piece of furniture hanging under it, a beautifully carved wooden bar from a building that was being renovated in the French Quarter. Eugene had gotten word that it was available to anyone who could haul it away, so he called in a few favors, secured an invitation to Momma's party for the helicopter owner, and there they were, lowering it down onto the upper deck of Oar House. After they set it down, Eugene jumped out of the chopper and had the pilot lift it again so he could place it just so, exactly where Momma had envisioned it. All the girls stood and watched in wonder at the magical arrival, most of them half naked, with their hair blowing wildly in the wind from the big swirling chopper blades. It was a sight to see.

The arrival of the bar was the final piece of the puzzle. Oar House was ready for Momma's celebration. The day of the party dawned with a deep blue sky, the humid haze of summer blown out to sea. The old barge gleamed in the sunlight as the girls took their morning showers. Excitement was in the air throughout the morning and afternoon as the caterers and bartenders arrived to get things set-up. Momma made a lot of food, but the caterers brought in a lot too. There was a steady parade as the girls helped unload container after container from the small boat they came on.

Up top, the old bar sat under a large awning, decorated underneath with twinkle lights. The bartenders, a young man and a young woman, tapped the kegs and got the liquor set up how they wanted it. The band arrived in Eugene's boat, and set-up at the edge of the upper deck, so they could be seen and heard from the lower deck too, which Momma envisioned as a dance floor. It too was decorated with twinkle lights, and a few artificial palm trees. Eugene sprung into action coordinating everything, so Momma could concentrate on her food and helping the girls get ready.

Seven o'clock rolled around and the early evening air was full of the sound of small boats approaching. Everything was ready, and the girls looked spectacular.

"God must have swatted away all the bugs for us Momma," Donna Lee said as she stood at the rail watching the approaching fleet of partiers. Momma had purposefully dropped anchor in a spot that was as bug-free as they could find, and the nice gentle breeze was just right to keep the 'little shits' at bay.

Donna Lee had on a tiny black dress, low-cut in the front and backless, the whole thing covered with shimmery, silvery fringe. She had her hair cut at the salon a few days before, in the style of a flapper girl from the 1920's, and she looked the part in the most delicious of ways.

All the girls were lining up at the rail as the small boats began to tie up. Ashley in a little yellow dress that fit her like paint on skin, Coralee in a ruffly bustier corset and stockings with her smooth pussy and massive tits on full display, Lisa Lou looking spectacular in the reddest red dress anyone had ever seen, Taylor showing off her nearly perfect body in a see-through chiffon number with nothing underneath, and Red in another 'she must have painted it on' dress in emerald green.

Donna Lee almost cried when she saw the guests start to climb up the boarding ladder one by one. Every single person had a book in their hand, which Eugene started collecting and stacking against the side of the cabin. Scratch Wilson, it turned out, had spread the word.

"Momma!" Donna Lee exclaimed, "Look at all those books!"

Momma made her way to the side deck to greet the guests. An artist friend of hers in the city had made her a new dress for the occasion, the design block printed by hand. Momma had drawn the design herself — a series of sexual positions abstracted a bit into pure line and form, rendered in colorful ink on the crisp white cotton fabric. With dozens of bracelets and a spectacular handmade necklace, she looked every bit the queen of the ship.

Soon there were thirty or more small boats tied up to each other against the side of Oar House, most of the guests were onboard, and the band kicked off the party with a swingin' version of Way Down Yonder In New Orleans.

Momma and Eugene had done a stellar job with the guest list, including an almost equal number of women to men. Early on in the planning Momma wasn't sure if it was possible, as most of the friends of a business like hers were men. But as word got out, she realized there were plenty of women interested in being there, including her hairdresser, two former neighbors from the French Quarter, some friends of the girls, and even a few wives of her customers, which surprised her. Red's sister flew in from New York City, two of Coralee's cousins drove over from Mississippi, and Lisa Lou's best friend from Texas made the trip, even though she was nervous about the whole thing. Lisa Lou was nervous to have her there too, knowing the party was probably going to turn into a wild orgy of epic proportions. All-in-all about forty-five women guests were onboard to compliment the female 'staff', and about fifty-five men.

After a couple of tunes the band was really in the groove, drinks were flowing, people were dancing, daylight was dimming.

"Scratch you beautiful man!" Donna Lee yelled down from the upper deck when she heard a small boat arrive late. "Look at all those books!" She pointed at the piles leaning against the cabin side.

"Isn't that a beautiful thing!" Scratch yelled up. "You'll be so busy readin' you won't have time to fuck me no more!"

"Scratch Wilson I'll fuck you 'till the day I die!" Donna Lee yelled down, and the crowd who could hear her laughed.

"I'd like to see that! Right here, right now!" someone yelled, and there were lots of whoops and cheers. 

"You get up here Scratch, right now!" Donna Lee said. She was more excited than she could remember, and damned if she wasn't about to kick off the orgy.

Scratch had finally made his way across all the small boats, hopping from one to another to get to the ladder, and he scrambled up it quicker than quick. A few moments later he was on the upper deck and Donna Lee embraced him and kissed him hard, right in front of the band.

The leader of the band sensed what was happening and he called out a new tune, the music turning on a dime to a greasy, down and dirty version of Ain't Misbehavin'. Donna Lee wasted no time pulling Scratch's big cock out. The eight incher the girls loved so much slithered down her throat nicer than one of Momma's hors d'oeuvres, and the crowd whooped it up again. A few moment's later Donna Lee's little black flapper dress was up around her waist, her pretty body bent over with her hands on the banjo player's shoulders as he played. Her high heels had her sweet ass at the perfect height, and Scratch fucked her deep. The banjo player had a perfect view of her tits inside her little dress. When she kissed him he missed a few strums, but he did pretty well considering.

Dixieland is a flexible, improvisational music, and the band rung out Ain't Misbehavin' for all it was worth as the fucking rose in intensity. The two women in the band, on drums and clarinet, were wide eyed as they watched Scratch gave it to Donna Lee like he had never done before, spurred on as he was by the cheering crowd and the intensity of the blaring horns at close range. It was a wild, almost hallucinogenic experience for both he and Donna Lee, the two of them cumming with incredible ferocity as the band worked to a crescendo worthy of the great Louis Armstrong himself.




Oar House



The crowd went wild at the spectacle and the party was truly kicked into high gear, much sooner than Momma had expected. She loved it though, and looked like the happiest queen in the world as the band ripped into another rollicking tune.

"My God Lisa Lou!" Maribelle said after watching the spectacle. "Are you gonna be doing that!"

Maribelle was Lisa Lou's best childhood friend from Texas. She'd always been fascinated by Lisa Lou's choice of profession, and her seeming happiness with her life on Oar House. When the chance to be aboard for the party came along she knew she had to be there, to see what it was like first-hand, but she had been nervous about it for weeks and had been clinging to Lisa Lou since she arrived on board.

"That's what we do here Maribelle, you know that," Lisa Lou said. "Everybody's happy at the end of the day."

"My God!" Maribelle said quietly, and she took a big sip of her Hurricane cocktail, watching intently as Scratch put his big cock away.

"You gonna be okay if it gets a little wild tonight?" Lisa Lou asked.

"If it gets a little wild?" Maribelle laughed. "Was that not wild already?"

"Remember how we used to pretend when we were little?" Lisa Lou said, eyeing her old friend as she sipped her own tall, fruity Hurricane. "Wanna pretend you're one of the girls for the night?"

Maribelle's eyes got big as the thought ricocheted around inside her brain, a quick flush of heat hitting her like a ton of bricks.

"Just think of all the fun you could have lettin' it all go for one night," Lisa Lou said.

Maribelle didn't say a word, but Lisa Lou knew the look on her face. She took Maribelle by the hand and led her down to her little bedroom. "Time for a quick make-over sweetheart," Lisa Lou said. "Every man on this boat'll be droolin' when we walk back up there. Suck that drink down. Hurricanes are all about courage, the real ones and the liquid ones."

"I don't know Lisa, this seems crazy," Maribelle said, looking more nervous than ever.

"You wouldn't be here today if you didn't want a little piece of this action. I know you," Lisa Lou said.

The muffled sounds of the music and footsteps overhead kept Maribelle's nerves on edge as Lisa Lou pulled lingerie out of her drawers for the two of them to put on. Their dresses came off and the sheerest bras and tiniest panties Maribelle had ever seen went on.

"You need a garter belt and hose," Lisa Lou said. "What size shoe do you wear?"

"Eight and a half. We're putting our dresses back on, right?" Maribelle asked.

"Good. Ash wears that size and she's got some wicked stilettos. Let me go grab a pair from her room," Lisa Lou said. "And no, no dresses."

Lisa Lou vanished down the long hall. Maribelle looked down at herself, shocked at how clearly visible her nipples were through the transparent bra. They were as hard as could be, sticking out a good half inch, and her whole chest was flushed with red. She looked in the mirror and turned, her ass on full display in the little black thong.

"Now that's a fuckin' ass!" Lisa Lou said when she walked in, holding a pair of shiny black stiletto heeled shoes in her hand. "Damn girl, you're gonna knock 'em dead."

"I can't possibly walk up there like this," Maribelle said.

"Put these on, and this," Lisa Lou said, ignoring her friends comment. She tossed her some sheer black stockings and a lacy garter belt.

Lisa Lou put on a red bustier that left her tits right out there in the open, and some lacy, crotchless panties.

"See, you're more covered up than I am," she said. "Let's do this, while that Hurricane's still workin' on 'ya."

She took her old friend's hand and pulled her out of the room, Maribelle holding back but following. Moments later they were walking through the partying crowd, Maribelle's mind in a fog of disbelief.

Goosebumps covered every inch of her as dozens of eyes looked her over, lusty and penetrating, the kind of eyes she'd only seen in a sexy dream once in a while. She suddenly realized she was inside one of those sexual dreams — what she was experiencing couldn't possibly be real.

"Damn honey!" Lisa Lou said as they pulled up in front of the bar. "Goosebumps and hard nips, you're gonna put the rest of us girls out of business! You look hot!"

"This is insane!" Maribelle said in a firm whisper.

"Insanity's a fuckin' blast!" Lisa Lou said. She ordered two more Hurricanes from the cute bartender. "I'm gonna do him before the end of the night."

"What?" Maribelle said, trying to snap her spinning mind into focus.

"The bartender. He's hot."

"Oh. Yeah," Maribelle said, still unable to get her brain working right. "You're not gonna leave me here alone like this, are you?"

"I may have to honey. Momma said we're here to please tonight, and everything's on the house. You could always come with. You up for a three-way with me?" Lisa Lou said with a sexy smile.

Maribelle choked on her first sip of the freshly made Hurricane. Lisa Lou laughed hard.

"Oh my God, I wish you could have seen the look on your face!" she said, still laughing. "Maribelle honey, I'm just gonna put it right out there. You're smokin' hot. I've thought so ever since you grew those tits. I'd love to taste your pussy tonight."

Maribelle couldn't speak. A look of fascination and wonder overtook her pretty face. Finally, after a silence that only seemed awkward for her, she spoke in a whisper.

"Have you done that?" she said.

"Yeah, of course honey! Hello! Workin' in a whorehouse!" Lisa Lou laughed.

"I know but, do women come here?" Maribelle asked with a look of great curiosity.

"No. Well, there's been a few over the years I guess, usually with a man though," Lisa Lou said. "But you've seen the other girls. We all love each other. It's different than family, but we love each other. And a lot of the guys like threeways, and one thing leads to another. If we get stressed out from bad customers we comfort each other. When we're with each other it's more like making love and less like fucking. Both are fun though." There was a long pause and Maribelle took a big sip of her drink. "You're not saying anything, and your nips are hard again. You like the idea?" Lisa Lou asked.

"Which one?" Maribelle asked, sounding a bit flustered.

"A threeway with me. I kinda love the idea," Lisa Lou said.

"Yeah...I mean...yeah...me too," Maribelle said. Her eyes looked into Lisa Lou's in a way they never had before.

"So pick out a guy. Let's get this party started!" Lisa Lou said with a big smile.

"Pick out a guy. We're standin' at a bar mostly naked, and you want me to pick out a guy and let him fuck us both. What is this, bizzaro world or some shit?" Maribelle said. She took another big gulp of her drink and the rum worked it's tropical magic. "He's cute," she said, looking in the direction of a tall, muscular man in blue jeans and a surprisingly tasteful Hawaiian shirt.

"Ooo! Rhett!" Lisa Lou said. "Damn girl, you're in for a fuckin' now! He's one of our Coast Guard boys. Hey Rhett! Rhett! Over here honey" she said loudly.

Rhett sauntered over, his blue eyes twinkling as he looked over the two girls.

"Lisa Lou, you look good enough to eat!" he said as he kissed her on the cheek. "Who's your friend? Did Momma hire a new girl?"

"This is Maribelle. We grew up together in Texas. She's just visiting for the party."

"My God almighty, they do grow 'em pretty in Texas. It's nice to meet you sweetheart," Rhett said as his eyes took in all of Maribelle. Rhett's lady-killer smile kicked off her goosebumps again, and he kissed her on the cheek too. Maribelle couldn't say a word.

"You know everything's on the house tonight, right?" Lisa Lou asked.

"Yes Ma'am," Rhett said, his eyes twinkling even more.

"Maribelle here, she's never done anything like this before, and she's never done a threeway. Would you care to make this a special night for her?" Lisa Lou asked in her sexiest southern way.

"Yes Ma'am!" Rhett said. "Miss Maribelle, is this all right with you?"

Maribelle nodded, still speechless and seemingly mesmerized by Rhett's piercing blue eyes. 

"She picked you out of the whole crowd," Lisa Lou said.

"Is that right?" Rhett said, looking deep into Maribelle's eyes. "Well I hope I don't disappoint."

"Oh no honey, you don't never disappoint," Lisa Lou said as she gave his ass a squeeze. "Shall we?"

The three of them made their way through the crowd as the band played Tain't Nobody's Biz-ness If I Do, past Coralee giving a blowjob at the other end of the bar and one of the female guests dancing naked in front of the clarinet player, who was playing too her like a snake charmer. Down on the main deck dance floor there were more bodies spinning to the music, in various states of dress and undress. Darkness was falling and the party was in high gear.

As soon as they made it to Lisa Lou's room Maribelle kissed Rhett long and hard, pulling his tall, muscular frame down to her level. It was a sudden move that surprised her, not the usual way she would be with a man. His hands went to her naked ass and they both moaned as their tongues danced together. Lisa Lou moved their dresses and Maribelle's underthings off the bed, and then sprawled herself out on it, under the doggie-style painting of her on the wall. She lay there with her head propped up on her elbow, watching her old friend get swept away in the moment. 

Rhett dropped slowly to his knees, kissing as much of Maribelle's soft skin as he could on his way down. When he reached her lower belly he pulled her little thong aside and slid his tongue across her clit, into the almost dripping wet lips of her pussy. Maribelle whimpered, and her body trembled. She turned her head slowly toward Lisa Lou and their eyes locked. As close as they had been all their young lives, they had never been in the same room with boys before, never seen each other in any kind of a sexual situation. Maribelle was floating quickly toward the edge of a high, orgasmic cliff, and Lisa Lou couldn't help but join her in a journey of her own. Her crotchless panties made it easy, two fingers slipping inside as she watched Maribelle lose her mind. Whenever Lisa Lou thought of Rhett she always thought of his big cock that stays hard forever. She had forgotten how talented his tongue was. 

Maribelle flew off into the stratosphere, her knees buckling from the first 'standing up' orgasm of her life. She crumbled like a limp rag doll into Rhett's arms and kissed her own juices off his lips, another first for her. Rhett picked her up like she was a feather and set her down next to Lisa Lou. Maribelle looked on in a daze as he stripped off his clothes, his big cock rock hard and standing proud. As she lay there, limp and unfocused, Lisa Lou stripped her of her little bra and thong and kissed her. Maribelle's mind spun wildly as her best friend's tongue touched hers, and Lisa Lou's hands caressed her tits for the first time. It was as if she was lost in another dimension, a place of love and pleasure unlike anything she had ever experienced.

"Sit up and suck Rhett's cock for him honey," Lisa Lou said.

Maribelle felt like an invisible spirit lifted her, and the big hard cock slipped into her mouth like a dream. She was no cock-sucker, never liked it much, but Rhett tasted like warm honey and she sucked the big meaty thing like a woman possessed. Her hands circled around the back of his powerful thighs and he fucked her mouth, gently and not to deep, but with a full-body thrusting that nearly made Maribelle lose her mind. She looked up at the beautiful man as he filled her mouth over and over again, Lisa Lou's hands began to caress her tits from behind, and once again she was overcome with a feeling of being lost, lost in paradise. 

Maribelle found herself hoping Rhett would cum in her mouth, something she never in her wildest dreams thought she would hope for, but he had control over his big cock. After the most sensuous blowjob she could ever imagine, he lifted her like a feather again and was in her, taking her doggie style in what seemed like one fluid move. Maribelle couldn't quite believe it.

"Oh fuck yeah!" she cried, in a deep, devilishly guttural voice Lisa Lou had never heard. "Oooooohhhhh," she groaned as Rhett went balls deep, farther inside her than any man had been before.

Lisa Lou leaned back against the wall and spread her legs in front of her friend. "Lick my pussy baby," she sighed.

Maribelle's mouth went were it had never been, lapping up Lisa Lou's sweet juices.

"Oh God yeah!" Lisa Lou moaned.

Rhett had been slithering in and out of Maribelle ever so slowly, watching his big cock split her little pussy. It was a sight that took his breath away.

"Fuck Maribelle! You got the sexiest little ass I ever seen!" he said.

His words made Maribelle moan into Lisa Lou's pussy. Lisa Lou moaned and Rhett moaned too, suddenly unable to hold back. Soon he was slapping into Maribelle and she was screaming into Lisa Lou's pussy, some of it muffled and some of it a flat-out shriek. It was the fuck of a lifetime for Maribelle and she lost control in a big way. Rhett loved it, having a woman so alive and wild on his cock. He could have easily popped and filled her with his cum, but he knew it was a special moment and hung on for all he was worth. His big cock plumbed Maribelle's depths with a speed and intensity that nearly melted both their insides. Maribelle's screaming mouth vibrated Lisa Lou's clit like nothing she had ever felt, and Lisa Lou was the first to loose it, the feeling of her friend's mouth devouring her and the sight of her being fucked to the edge of oblivion taking Lisa Lou to an earth shattering orgasm the likes of which she hadn't felt in years.

When Maribelle saw Lisa Lou melting down it finally triggered her, Rhett's relentless assault lighting her pussy like the short fuse to a rocket. Every cell in her body seemed to explode, a cascade from one end of her to the other and then back again. Rhett's big cock finally blew, pumping Maribelle's spasming body full. She collapsed onto Lisa Lou, her whole body twitching as cum oozed out of her swollen red pussy. Rhett stayed on his knees, his bright red cock sticky in his hand, his military trained body gasping for breath.

"Holy fuck!" was all he could say.

———————

Back up on deck, the party was hopping. Momma wandered through the crowd, usually with a tray of hors d'oeuvres. She'd never seen anything quite like the party she was throwing — it was beyond her wildest dreams.

As a nearly full moon lit the dark sky Captain Eugene took over the trumpet chair in the band from the handsome black man who'd been playing. One of the fisherman's wives, who knew the man from their children's boy scout meetings, wasted no time and took him by the hand to the bar. She had already shed her dress and had been dancing in her sexy lingerie in front of him for a half an hour or so. The bulge in his pants as he played his music was obvious, and she'd worked herself into a horny frenzy. At the bar she opened his pants and swallowed his black meat, a thick cock she could barely get her lips around. With her husband looking on she got a face full of cum, and her breathless, sexy smile told the world how she felt about it.

There had been a few blowjobs up on the top deck given by the girls, and of course Donna Lee and Scratch's epic fuck in front of the band, but this was the first guest-on-guest sex act, and it started something. It wasn't immediate, but within half an hour the swinging music was accompanying fucking more than dancing.

Momma and Ashley and a few of the men brought up all the cushions they could find to make things comfortable, and one of the biggest orgies in New Orleans history was underway. It wasn't long before the seven piece band was down to a three piece, the cute bartenders had given the bar over to self-service and joined in, and the mother/daughter catering team were naked in the thick of things, the daughter thoroughly embroiled with Scratch and his friends, and the mother taking two members of the band on in both ends of her. She'd always dreamt of big black cocks. On Oar House that night she was stuffed full of them.

K.K., who had fallen deeply for Red after she had taken his virginity, lived the best dream of his young life when Red and her also red-headed sister fucked he and his best friend. Red's sister, older and more conservative, shed her medical office receptionist persona and let it rip, letting the boys spit-roast her pussy and mouth and then taking K.K.'s nice young cock in her ass, surrounded by people egging her on. She suddenly understood her baby sister's choice of career.

Momma shed her homemade dress and was one of several women getting the spit-roast treatment, with old Mitch in her mouth and Eugene in her pussy while the little trio played Everybody Loves My Baby. Those that weren't embroiled in orgasms of their own applauded when she came, and she stood in all her red-flushed glory and took a bow. 

Oar house was ten-years-old, but it all felt new and exciting to Momma on that moonlit, star-filled night. Eugene had given her some instruction in celestial navigation a few years back. The 'in shore' navigation Mama did with Oar House didn't require it, but she found the process fascinating and wanted to learn how to do it. Every once in a while she'd pull out her sextant, take her noon day sight, run the numbers and find out she was right were she knew she was. Using the sextant at night was even more mysterious and wonderful, taking sights on the stars. It was comforting to her, as if heaven itself was telling her, yes Mama, this is where you are, this is where you're supposed to be. Taking care of her girls was the best thing she had done with her life, and the pleasure that Oar House brought to folks was immeasurable. She'd brought the old barge back to life, and a billion stars in the sky showed it the way home.

———————

Way down yonder in New Orleans

In the land of the dreamy scenes

There's a Garden Of Eden, you know what I mean?

Creole babies with flashin' eyes

Softly whisper their tender sighs

And then you stop! Oh, won't you give your lady fair a little smile?

And then you stop! You bet your life you'll linger there a little while

We've got heaven right here on earth

With those beautiful queens

Way down yonder in New Orleans

You're gonna find heaven right here on earth

With all them beautiful queens

Way down yonder in New Orleans