1 comments/ 11494 views/ 3 favorites Verse by Avril Mars By: Five_Eight A NOTE TO READERS: Welcome to another one of Five Eight's black comedies, everybody. Damn, it's hot enough outside for a cold shower BUT there's plenty of naughty bits, sneaky characters and snarky dialogue ahead. Five loves his new heroine and knows you will too. She's hot, she's blonde, but not dumb. The cold shower can wait until after you get to know her a little better. ********** April March's summer vacation turned out to be pretty shitty. So far. At first she'd been excited about going to Jamaica. But there wasn't anything to do once she got there except swim. Swimming got old quick, even in the azure Caribbean. Instead of staying in a resort her parents rented a place out of town. She didn't have any girlfriends to talk to, there were zero guys, only an old groundskeeper who didn't qualify and a fellow from her daddy's firm whom she seldom saw. Despite the beautiful scenery there were few places to ride her skateboard, and she'd lugged that unwieldy fucker through three airports. As far as any inspired creativity on her part went: Nil City. This damn rock jutting out of the ocean and its tropical moon inspired her not a bit. She'd only written a single poem in her notebook, Verse by Avril Mars (her name in French, it sounded like a mixed-up calendar in English), and scribbled over it. It read like an amateur high school rant when she'd been trying to channel her inner Jim Morrison. Her dad owned a big security outfit in southern Cal, her mom employed a staff of three to run their luxurious home in Santa Monica. In Jamaica April's folks lounged around the big beach house they'd rented getting drunk all day. Since neither of them smoked there weren't any cigarettes for her to steal. The food sucked too; island shit, she came to think of it. You couldn't get a decent burger here. If she laid eyes on one more slimy mango slice she'd hurl. A few days ago her parents informed her they were throwing a party tonight for their friends on the island. Catered food and entertainment; they'd hired a calypso band. Big fucking whoop, she'd groaned inside: bring on the Harry Bellafonte, the melon balls, brick-hard pineapple chunks and monkey meat on a stick. April perked up when the group proved to be a reggae band, not that her parents could tell the difference, the musicians all young guys in their twenties. When she saw them setting up out by the freshwater pool she immediately changed into her most revealing thong bikini. When the band started playing everybody stood around for a minute before drifting away, talking. Very few partygoers stayed and listened, but April did, sneaking cup after cup of wine punch while her parents were busy inside the house 'entertaining.' The resultant buzz ushered her ennui into the background, the reggae vibe brought a smile to her face. Her body moved with the music, not dancing per se, she'd perched her bubble butt on a chaise lounge grooving to what she knew Rastafarians called dem riddems. She smiled wide at the thought her parents would probably label this devil music. And its rhythms infected her, getting under her skin, helping to soothe her teenage blues. The drummer responsible for those rhythms soon caught her eye, a tall lean muscled black man. He'd pulled a red, green and yellow knit cap down over the top of his head, long tails of knotted hair spilled out of it, not the typical twists or braids but honest-to-God dreadlocks. A red T-shirt with Sly & Robbie written on it stretched across his chest and the muscles of his upper arms. She liked the way the red contrasted with his shiny skin in the afternoon sunshine; she liked the way his hair whirled around his head as he flailed his drumsticks. But from where she sat what attracted her most was what appeared to be quite a potent weapon being held at bay by his immodest white Speedo trunks. April pushed her slender thighs together as her tiny bikini bottoms went from damp to wet. Odd, because her mouth had gone very dry. She put the plastic cup to her lips and drained what was left in it. Odd, it didn't seem to help. Her pulse roared in her ears. She licked at her dry lips. ************ Taylor, the band's agent, regretted going to the gig. So far. He'd heard their tunes a million times and, truthfully, was a little tired of them. Not that he didn't enjoy music, but music was only business to him, he made his living booking lots of acts he cared nothing about. When he heard a rumor some Island Records reps would be at the party, he'd decided to tag along. He saw money down the road if he could connect with some record company people. But they hadn't shown; nobody here but boring old farts and their drudge-like wives, some of them in muumuus. Jeez, didn't they know the difference between Honolulu and Kingston? But it hadn't been a total loss. He got fifteen per cent off the top of the abnormally high fee of eight hundred bucks he'd negotiated with March's wife over the phone. Just to be on the safe side he'd taken the liberty of booking the band under the name of The Beachcombers instead of their real one, The Spliffs. No need to queer such a lucrative deal. And what The Spliffs didn't know wouldn't hurt them, it wasn't like they had business cards or T-shirts or their name painted on the bass drumhead. Taylor informed each of the four band members they'd get a hundred apiece for the gig, less his fifteen of course. Did he feel guilty about cheating his own act? Not a damned bit, consciences were for suckers. He inserted another Winston into his jade cigarette holder, prepared to dip a final cup of punch from the cut-glass bowl on the patio table and get the fuck home. He'd made sure to pig out on the chicken wings so he wouldn't have to stop for dinner. A free meal, numerous bevvies and a chunk of change: no, not a total loss. As he strolled across the lawn to the punchbowl on an umbrella table by the pool he noticed a very hot girl in a pink bikini swaying on a chaise lounge, very obviously tripping on The Spliffs, uh, Beachcombers. Where the fuck had she come from? Taylor watched her set a yellow plastic cup on the cement and lick her lips. A breeze blew the cup over and he noticed it empty. Quickly he maneuvered to the punchbowl, filled two cups and carried them over to the vacant lawn chair next to the chaise lounge upon which the girl shimmied. Ogling the flesh peeping out of her bathing suit he smiled as he came up alongside her saying, "I saw you were out of punch and thought I'd bring a refill," before he snapped to just how young she was. Jeez, a teenage slut. Shoulder length pale blonde hair dark at the roots, the fringe and left front side dyed pink, too much makeup, especially eye shadow, a diamond chip glittered on one side of her nose, a unicorn tattoo close enough to her young snapper that he knew she was shaved. Was that a dark patch on the crotch of her bikini bottoms? Jeez! She really was digging the band. He swallowed uneasily, tilting the cigarette holder between his teeth, now expecting her to glance up at him, accuse him of being a perv and to please bugger off. The girl surprised him though. She pried her eyes away from Jamal's crotch (Taylor had warned him not wear that damned Speedo) long enough to smile and reach for the cup he held out. "Thank you very much, I'm so grateful," she said, "you saved me a trip." He'd be forty in October and the young slut really put him off his game. "You're welcome," Taylor replied as casually as possible. He took the stupid cigarette holder out of his mouth and tried to keep that clenched shut. The tops of both her nipples were visible and the wet spot on her thong resembled a surreal outline of the state of Florida. Finally all that therapy was paying for itself. The thoughts crowded his mind in a blurred jumble. While collecting them she said something he didn't hear. To cover his embarrassment he remarked, "Great band, isn't it?" "I love reggae, they're fantastic." She took a quick sip from the cup he'd handed her. "I like them, but then I'm their manager," Taylor lied. "I go to every show of theirs I can." "Really?" asked the girl, wide-eyed. "Yeah. I'll introduce you to them after the set. If you want." "Sure!" For a moment he thought she eyed the bulge in his cargo pants and asked, "What?" "Is it okay?" "Is what okay?" he swallowed again, nervous, his dick at rigid attention. "You've been so nice I hate to ask but do you mind if I bum one of your cigarettes? You didn't seem to hear me the first time I asked." Remain calm and cool he reminded himself. "Sorry, caught up in the jams." Reaching for his pack he had second thoughts. Chuckling innocently, he slipped a question in his remark: "You look awfully young for the booze and cancer sticks." "Fuck all that," she blurted, rolling her eyes before abruptly changing her tune. "Excuse me, I guess that's a compliment. This time next month I'll be chilling on campus. UC Berkeley." "Well then, since you're off to university, of course you can," he said, relieved. Ripping off musicians and clients was one thing, shagging schoolgirls was another altogether. He passed her the pack and sat down on the lawn chair. When he realized he'd accomplished what he set out to do, meet the blonde by the pool and take the seat beside her, he began to relax and evaluate. This hot little honey seemed absolutely ready to scratch that itch deep inside that sweet kootch of hers. But how to go about it? Her presence compensated for the Island Records people being MIA. He relaxed, lit her cigarette with his lighter. No need to be in such a hurry. "By the way, I'm Avril Mars," she said, smoke dribbling from between her lips before the breeze twisted it away. When the girl stuck her hand out to shake her right tit almost jiggled free of its pink habitat. She paid no attention. He smiled and gave her hand a single shake. "Taylor Lancaster, talent scout, business manager, booking agent, among other various and sundry duties in the entertainment industry." "Cool," she acknowledged with a sip of punch and a long pull on her Winston. "God, that tastes great, I haven't had a cigarette in days." Taylor heard Avril slurring her words. Tipsy, no doubt. Who knew what might come of this? "Glad I could be of help." Avril started making inquiries about the band, mostly about the drummer. She directed the majority of her attention his way, constantly watching his every move. Taylor answered her questions, all the while imagining he could smell her dripping pussy; already formulating a way to get into those wet panties of hers. ************ The nice Englishman who'd given her a cigarette not only fetched her a second big cup of punch but offered her another Winston. April felt his eyes staring at her body while she watched Jamal play; Taylor had supplied the drummer's name when she'd asked earlier. She decided if she didn't hook up with Jamal she'd consider Taylor. She liked his British accent and the way his unruly longish hair curled at the ends. Even though he was older, she could tell by his unbuttoned shirt he had a flat stomach and broad chest, she thought he had a cute butt too. As cute as he was she though had eyes for Jamal. And that ferocious lump straining at his swimsuit. When the band took a break Taylor led her by hand over to meet them. She stumbled along the way and realized she'd had more wine punch than she'd bargained on, and was drunk. Taylor seemed not to notice. When they reached the band equipment he introduced everyone, saving Jamal for last. April immediately began engaging him in conversation. She rudely ignored the others as she smiled and flirted with the dreadlocked drummer. After a minute or two everyone got the idea and left them alone. "Do you give drum lessons?" she asked him, a bit breathless, wanting to keep up the small talk. "Sometimes. Are you interested in being a drummer?" "You mean you'd teach me? I'm here for another week." "I'll be glad to show you some things but right now . . ." he stopped and swiveled his head around as if searching for something through the trees and down on the beach. "But right now what?" she wanted to know. Jamal chuckled while gazing into her eyes. She feared her legs would melt and she'd fall. "I like talking to you, Avril, you make me feel good, you really do, but right now I need to find a piece of privacy and have a little smoke before we play the next set." "You can smoke here, silly, we're outside." Jamal chuckled again. "No cigarette, sweetheart. I'm talking about a spliff." "What's a spliff?" "Ganja. Everybody'd smell it up here." "Is ganja weed?" He nodded sagely. The front of his Speedo stuck out so far she wanted to fuck his brains out. Her nipples pointed through the material of her bikini top and she'd positively soaked her bottoms. She could smell her own pussy. "Do you have enough to share?" "Why, do you want some?" "You bet I do," April chirped, never taking her eyes off his dick. She moved close enough for it to touch her belly as she leaned in to whisper to him: "If you have enough to share I know a private place we can smoke." "You do?" "Yep! Don't hide it, divide it." He laughed and ran his fingers through his dreads. "Lead the way, young lady." "Thank you," she gushed. "This has been one boring summer vacation. Until now." "I'll do my best to elevate you out of the doldrums then," he promised. April liked that phrase and made a mental note to write it down, later. At first Jamal walked behind her, April hoped he checked out her ass and wagged it for all she was worth. Eventually he moved up beside her and she took him through a garden and down a green slope leading to the ocean. In the shade of a stand of unruly wind-shaped Juniper trees an ancient gazebo with chipped and peeling paint leaned to one side. They brushed away a few cobwebs and sat down, half hidden among all the gnarled roots and limbs and greenery. Jamal extracted a banana-sized joint and a Zippo from a fanny pack he'd brought with him. He lit up, took a few big hits and handed it to her. April had smoked weed dozens of times before, but the ganja Jamal had got her very high on top of being buzzed on wine. She felt brazen enough to edge closer to him until their bodies touched then altered her position in such a way her left breast squashed into his arm, she placed a hand high on his thigh, just inches from the raging erection she couldn't wait to get her hands on. And mouth. He held out the spliff to her again, appraising her through eyes like slits. April shook her head. "You keep it, I've had plenty. Why don't you smoke while I thank you." "Thank me for what?" "For the kickass music, silly." "I don't understand the thanking me part. You already have." She felt really good and giggled. "Yeah, but not the way a true fan girl would." "What you got in mind, Avril?" "You just sit back and suck on that and I'll find something else . . . to suck on." The expression on his face made her giggle, she loved being naughty. April crouched in front of him and removed her top, her tits swollen and firm. She drew the Speedo down to free his dick. It literally sprang out of his shorts, standing straight up, tall and wide, like a redwood. She gulped as she circled both hands around it, had known Jamal's pecker would be bigger than any she'd held before. No doubts lingered in her mind, she found herself more excited than intimidated or awed, he packed a very impressive piece of equipment. April put her mouth around the tip and sunk her face downward to devour it. Jamal grunted and groaned while she slurped, intent upon getting all that beef inside her mouth. As much as she wanted to she couldn't quite deepthroat him to the balls, but he made no complaints regarding her succulent skills. For minutes on end she blew him like she'd never blown before, putting every bit of her experience into it. She gasped from her valiant efforts, eyes watering. Jamal gasped suddenly himself. April felt a warm splash against her cheek, then another and another, on her nose and in one eye. She closed her eyes while his sperm continued to splash her face, she felt the excess dripping onto her breasts. April was so aroused that she actually came when the first gob splattered her face. Opening her mouth she got a few salty spurts on her pierced tongue. The girl tried backing away but Jamal gripped each side of her head in his hands, put the head of his penis between her lips and began to fuck her mouth with great abandon. April sucked willfully to coax every last drop out of that long chocolate drumstick between Jamal's legs. When she looked up at him finally his eyes were no longer slits. He'd closed them, smiling blissfully as if he communed with Haile Selassie. Feeling her face plastered with a rich tapestry of thick pearl white semen, April said something like, "Ohmigod." How excellent, she thought, that facial had to look phenomenal! She reached for the iPhone tucked into her bikini bottoms. None of her girlfriends would ever believe her when she got back to the states so she clicked a couple of selfies of her face glazed with Jamal's outpourings. When she glanced up and saw him watching her they both laughed at the same time. "Here get a picture of this too," urged Jamal. He wiped up a splotch of cream with a forefinger and slid it into her mouth. No sperm remained on it when he withdrew it. He wiped at her face again saying, "Take a picture this time," before feeding her another congealing batch clinging to his finger. He laved up a third helping and put it in her mouth, repeating the process until her face was clean and she'd eaten every speck. "Hey, I missed some on your tits," said Jamal, touching her left one. "Open up like a good girl, there you go." Then April heard a second male voice. It demanded: "Just exactly what's going on here anyway?" All of a sudden she felt sick, and not because she just digested each gooey pellet and noodle string of Jamal's flood of juice. Just because she'd eaten more come in one sitting than she had in her entire life was nothing to feel bad about. Oh no, the shit just hit the fan. ************ Taylor stepped into the tumbledown gazebo with the blonde teen and the somewhat deflated black drummer. He put his hands on his hips and tried to look pissed off when in fact he couldn't have been more delighted. Jamal asked timidly, "What you doing here, Mister T.L.?" Simultaneously Avril hissed, "Were you spying on us?" "Hardly," Taylor lied, indignant. Casually he removed the cigarette holder from his mouth and sipped his drink. "I came looking for Jamal because no one could find him. It's past time for the set to start. Better hustle on up there, mon, and get behind those drums." "I'm on it, mon," said Jamal reluctantly, hauling his Speedo up over his flopping semi-erect penis. Avril watched the drummer depart then stood up to leave herself, her phone forgotten in her hand. Taylor blocked her exit and neatly grabbed it away from her never spilling a drop of his punch. She protested as he set his cup on one of the gazebo's warped rails and tapped at the face of her iPhone to retrieve the photos she had taken of her come-smeared face. "Hey, you can't do that . . ." she stammered, looking daggers at him. Taylor said gently, "I need to see what kind of incriminating evidence is on here, Avril. You had to have come to this party with your folks. All I need is for them to get a load of you getting a load on your face and suing my act or some shit." "I won't say anything, I promise. I could get in big trouble too. Don't tell anyone, Taylor, please." "Chill out, honey," he said. "I don't want to have to say anything to anyone about this, but I may have to." Verse by Avril Mars "Why for fuck's sake?" "I told you to chill! Jeez, I just need to protect myself, legally. You have to understand." "Were you watching us the whole time?" "No," Taylor lied. Actually he'd followed them the second he saw Avril leading Jamal across the grounds away from the house. He'd hoped to see a show and April had staged quite a performance. Taylor never expected to view as spectacular a sight as the young skater bitch sucking off a big black dude before getting her face jizzed like a pornstar slut. He was harder now than he had been before at the pool, desperately needed an outlet, and Avril stood there handy and available. If he played this hand of cards just right he'd get to do more to this willing young bird than Jamal. He commanded more than suggested, "Let's you and me go for a little walk, sweetie." "Where to?" "The beach, where no one can hear us but the ocean." "For what?" "For a talk. Jeez!" "No way!" "I have a low bullshit tolerance, young lady," Taylor whispered urgently. "We need to reach an agreement about this unfortunate tableau. Now get moving." ************ Although young, drunk and high, April March was nobody's fool. She knew exactly what kind of agreement Taylor alluded to, reckoned that in her very near future she'd be on her knees giving another blowjob. But how bad could that be? She'd creamed the crotch of her bikini bottoms and needed to go swimming (or something) to hide the fact. April liked to suck cock anyway and she was still extremely horny. A change of partners was no big. Besides, Taylor used one of her favorite words in a sentence: tableau. She'd already sized him up while chatting with him for an hour by the pool. A nice guy in his thirties, stylish, and good looking. Young as she was April knew sex had always been a currency for women to get whatever they wanted from men. Her sultry charm worked with everyone except her parents. And the occasional jealous bitch. April took only a few seconds to make up her mind. What the fuck, she'd do him. Her pussy craved some attention. She laughed to herself, any pork in a storm. She said, "Okayfine, Taylor, let's take a walk." Wasting no time they hurried down a section of beach she'd never gotten around to exploring before. He gave her another cigarette and a drink from his cup. Neither of them spoke as they marched across the sand in the late afternoon sun, everything was understood, nothing needed saying. A few moments later they made a curious discovery, someone had abandoned an old brown leather armchair with dull brass tacks among the overhang of palm fronds where the sand ended and jungle began. Stuffing bulged from the chair's split seams. Taylor quickly sat down in it and, after divesting himself of his cup and cigarette holder, pulled April onto his lap. She felt his erection rubbing against the cheeks of her ass. Totally hawt! Her heart started to race and she could feel the liquid warmth between her thighs renew itself and seep from the mouth of her pussy. She couldn't recall ever having been so wet. First Jamal, now Taylor, in the last few minutes some real vacation fun achieved lift-off, finally, and blasted into the stratosphere. ************ Taylor's heart raced too. He couldn't believe he had this luscious piece of ass sitting on his lap all alone on a hidden section of beach. He shifted April off his nuts onto his left thigh where he instantly felt the heat of her pussy steaming through the cloth of his cargo pants. He swore he could smell her lubricating her pink thong, surely the fish he smelled didn't come from the seaside. He toyed with a blonde lock of her hair, murmuring in her ear, telling her what a beautiful woman she was. The fingers of his other hand traced a slow and deliberate path up and down her inner thighs. Taylor applied a feather light touch he hoped would turn the girl on. "That feels good," she confirmed in a hushed tone. Her words empowered him. He brushed a casual fingertip down the indented line of the cameltoe of her bikini bottoms and the wanton young bitch spread her legs as wide as she could! That said more than words to Taylor. He reached up to unsnap the back of her bikini top, she twisting aside to assist his endeavor. When her lovely tits popped free he nearly popped too. Upon further examination her plump breasts seemed to be still under construction, apple-shaped, nipples puffy with uncommonly long blunt tips. He kissed each one while sliding a bold hand down the front of her pink bottoms. Immediately he knew how aroused she was; the soaked fabric of her bikini registered with him bigtime, her cunt gushed, lips open, awash with fragrant sugar and spice, her clit a hard bead under his fingers. The sweet slut secreted enough juice to trickle into the crack of her ass! He fiddled with her clit until she gasped, squeezing her thighs together while giving voice to a drawn-out moan. Obviously the girl had had a profound orgasm. He worked feverishly stripping off what remained of her swimsuit, she standing balanced against him on shaky legs to make his task easier. He remembered her saying, "I'll let you fuck me if you give me back my iPhone." He agreed though had the presence of mind to require a nice blowjob as well. "I love to give head, I want to learn to deepthroat," she said brightly. "First you need something to practice on," Taylor replied. He placed his palms on her shoulders, a gentle downward pressure was all Avril needed to sink to her knees. Eagerly she began to unbutton his fly; when she grasped the object of her ardor in hand she learned he was about as hung as Jamal. She giggled, "This is going to be a challenge." "Rise to it, young lady," he instructed. He plunged himself into her mouth and, to his surprise, she swallowed three quarters his length on the first try. Deciding she could handle it he fed more and more stiffness to her each time he stuffed himself into her face. She did everything in her power to accommodate him. The little bitch knew her way around a dick, she choked a few times, but that only made him fuck her face with more passion and determination. Finally he put both hands on the back of her head and pushed his prick into her mouth to the balls and held Avril in place that way for a very long while. The sensation almost caused him to ejaculate long before he cared to. He sluiced out of her mouth, his member covered with a layer of slobber and drool. Although she stared lovingly up at him teary-eyed and short of breath, she appeared clearly anxious for more. Taylor was not one to disappoint his lady friends. He couldn't believe her oral capacities; she was so adept his hard-on twitched with ego gratification every time he managed to gag her. He pummeled her mouth, gleefully pumping in and out of her throat at a frantic tempo knowing she could cope. At last the inevitable happened. Taylor unloaded a large deposit of sperm while lodged as far as in the back of her throat as he could thrust the tip of his dick. He came in seven or eight generous spurts. "Jeez," he uttered when he could, more than a little weak in the knees. With a helpless look in her eyes Avril suddenly coughed him out of her mouth. She clutched her throat hacking and spat a huge sticky amoeba of semen in the sand. Taylor beamed, she hadn't tasted it going down but certainly had when it came back up. Without giving her any time to recover he lifted her up in his arms, laid her on her back in the armchair, supported her ass in the air with his hands while he poked his still-hard prick between the trembling lips of her tight saucy pussy. Taylor had been correct in his earlier assumption her mound was completely shaven and her pubes had very obviously already dropped. She had an uneven pair of overlarge pussy lips that he found most endearing. Avril writhed like a speared fish when he buried himself to his pubic hair inside the heated and tightly slick envelope in between her thighs. He drove himself home with a slippery squish. From the first stroke wet sounds come from her battered opening. Embarrassment covered her face when her pussy farted twice, but Taylor glowed with pride. He pulled every inch out of her except for head of his knob, saw his thick length coated with the off-white film of her secretions. Again his dick throbbed in triumph at the mere thought of its successful campaign inside of delicious Avril, her eyelids half closed and she kept groaning oh-oh-oh each time his pelvis smashed into hers. Fun as it was the position became uncomfortable fast. "Put your arms around my neck and hug me closely," Taylor ordered Avril. She obeyed immediately and he wrapped his arms around on the backs of her knees in order to lift her body into an abrupt upright position. He stood up straight with Avril still impaled on his root, began to bounce her up and down on his long frisky pecker. He fucked her relentlessly then, literally imitating a sort of human paddleball motion that. Once Taylor established a good rhythm, he carried on uninterrupted for ten or fifteen minutes. Avril quivered hopelessly in his strong grasp, apparently she'd come again and again in succession. Whenever she came she cried out, even the surf couldn't drown her joyful screams of pleasure just as it couldn't mask the smell of her overheated snatch in action. So prolific were her juices the valley of her asscheeks went from being slick with wetness to absolutely drenched with Avril's overflow. He commemorated the occasion by sneaking a naughty finger halfway into her anus. Taylor massaged her tense anal muscle with a fingertip, testing the resiliency till he probed with enough vigor to sink his finger all the way to the knuckle. Avril grunted and her asshole went very small, but otherwise seemed not to notice in her sexual delirium. Taylor admitted to himself she wasn't the only one experiencing it. The slut compelled him to bedroom athletics he never even dreamed of. He hammered her like a bull, a cock of the walk, a stud. She'd melted, losing her grip on his neck, their bodies shown with sweat. He disengaged to set her back on the ground, on the verge of coming again anyway and Taylor didn't want impregnate her. Facing her away from him he urged her onto the arms of the chair on her knees with her hindquarters pointing in his direction. Avril supported herself resting her crossed arms over the back of the chair, so limp that he'd penetrate that almost invisible pink dimple of her asshole before she knew she had his dick there. The tiny circle of muscle between the halves of her buttocks beckoned Taylor like a siren song and he could not help himself. He squatted to get at it with a busy tongue and paid a long fond tribute to the beauty of Avril's anus. He didn't think she had a clue he planned to penetrate that darling sphincter and fill her tight rear depths with a second spewing of come. Taylor rose to his feet and nudged his empurpled plum head against the rubbery grommet of Avril's asshole. Her adorable fleshy gate resisted admittance but not for long, the girl too unguarded and relaxed. Then Taylor felt a lessening of pressure on his cockhead as he navigated the whole tip through that snug barrier ring of muscle to pass into her bottom. Now it gripped his shaft with a splendid tightness. He sunk half himself into her, then more with each successive thrust. The girl had allowed herself to be angled into quite a position on the armchair and Taylor took enthusiastic advantage. He delighted in Avril's surprised gasps. Embedded in her tight bum would trigger a second load from him sooner than he wanted yet he could not slow down his hunching into the grunting girl. He reveled in exploring every intimacy she had to offer. Her sphincter stretched out from her behind in a lewd circle of flesh every time he drew himself out of her asshole, hugging his thickness, and disappeared when he lanced deep back into her butt. Taylor smacked the rounds of the girl's buttocks as he rogered her. He gloried as the come burst from his organ in surges. He babbled wordless sounds, midway between a laugh and a yell. His second orgasm felt better than the first, the sensation pure bliss. He'd come hard and apparently a lot. All the fluid cooling in Avril's conquered butthole served to well grease her rear passageway so Taylor continued ramming his spike into her backside to his utmost delight until only a softening dick and exhaustion put an end to the proceedings. ************ When Taylor rested his chest against her shoulder blades and fought to regain his breath, April cautiously squeezed his dick out of her ass. An obscene slurp issued from her anus when the head of his penis slipped out. A large tentacle of come dribbled out of her anus, she could feel it oozing over her cuntlips and snaking down the insides of her thighs. Her heart rate slowed and she breathed easier once she'd evicted the large presence back there. April fantasized plenty of times about being taken that way by a man; fortunately she'd been fucked up when it occurred. Taylor's dick buried deep inside her ass had neither hurt nor felt especially good, it only felt different, a new experience, very decadent. She was sure anal sex would get better each time she practiced it in the future. It couldn't help but make her popular with the frat boys at Berkeley. April stopped counting how many times she got off once Taylor started bouncing her up and down in mid-air on his love muscle. Wait till she told her crew back home about that. Jealous City. The thought cleared her head, made her think about her phone again. Taylor still hadn't given it back, a great lay but a sneaky dude. While preoccupied in his post-coital nirvana she plotted to retrieve it before he knew. He'd gotten what he wanted from her and she'd enjoyed it no end, but now it was her turn to get what she wanted. Her phone! She spied his cargo pants in the sand beside the armchair; she didn't remember him removing them during their feverish embrace but he'd stuck her phone into one of the pockets before they really got started. April put her plot in motion. "Taylor, I need to stand and stretch for a minute, I'm all scrunched up here with you on top of me." "Apologies, love," he wheezed as he let her up. He then collapsed into the chair and closed his eyes. Goody, thought April, here's my chance. She picked up his pants with her back to him to reclaim her property. No sooner than she had the phone in hand when Taylor shouted. "What do you think you're doing?" "Getting my stuff back." "I didn't give you permission." "I don't need your permission, it's my fucking phone." Taylor hopped out of the chair with alarming alacrity and damned if he didn't snatch her phone away from her again! They started arguing but stopped. His head had snapped to the right, eyes scanning the foliage and sand. April blinked in the sunlight and followed his gaze. Had something just moved out there? Sure enough they were no longer alone. A man stood on the beach a few feet from them. When April saw the newcomer she stooped down to get her discarded bikini out of the sand and began to dress. For the second time that afternoon she heard a man's voice bawl: "Just exactly what's going on here anyway?" ************ Taylor was arguing with Avril about her mobile phone when the man appeared out of nowhere shouting. He approached them with purpose. "Who are you?" Taylor growled. He went from fumbling with Avril's phone to fumbling with his cargo shorts. When he got a good look at the chap he dialed the aggravation in his voice way back. The man in front of him was about his age, but could've played football, big as a bloody house this one, horridly dressed in a plaid sport coat, olive T-shirt and jeans. He had white plimsolls on his feet and a straw hat on his head. The very narrow brim of the hat he had snapped down over his eyes. He put his hands on his hips to sweep back his jacket enough for Taylor to glimpse the pistol in the shoulder holster. Was this turd a shakedown artist or a cop? "The name's Benjamin North," the guy said, "call me Benny. And I do believe you're Taylor Lancaster, booking agent for top notch entertainment around the island." The man's tone radiated sarcasm. His suspicious eyes darted toward Avril then back to Taylor. "Miss March and I have already met." "Oh shit, that's one of daddy's men," Avril said under her breath. Scared and confused, their words had not even registered with Taylor. He ignored the girl completely and, professional dignity stung, informed the big man, "You are wrong assuming that, sir, The Beachcombers is a pro act!" "Yeah right, tell me all about The Beachcombers, pal, or do you mean The Spliffs? They're hot shit every Thursday at the Jonkanoo on Knutsford, over in Kingston." This fucker knew a lot about a lot, Taylor needed to be cool, very cool. "I fail to see what you're driving at, my good man." "The point is you're ripping off my boss. In a number of ways." "What do you mean, ripping off your boss?" Careful, Taylor lad, this chap's a minute away from giving you a proper thumping. But Benny didn't hit him, he gave an explanation. "I work for Mr. March, or as you might call him, Monsieur Mars." "Ma-Ma-Ma-Ma . . ." Taylor stuttered, finally realizing March was indeed Mars in French. He hadn't fully understood Avril's 'daddy's men' comment till now, it had gone over his head in all the excitement. Crikey, fucking the boss's daughter was the blunder of blunders! Benny the tough guy smiled, he understood well enough. "Did Mr. March's little girl fool you with her pen name? Avril Mars, ha! How many times have I heard that?" The man shot Avril an amused look before turning to Taylor and saying: "Now me, I'm a consultant with military and law enforcement, corporate security, trouble shooting, et cetera. This girl's father is the president of the fifth largest private investigation firm in America. Think of it as Pinkerton Lite, it's not Forbes 500 stuff but it's big enough to roll right over you. And you, smart guy, bilked his wife out of eight yards when normally this raggedy ass band of yours only knocks down three hundred a night. If they're lucky." Despite the danger Taylor still got offended. "This is a private function not some sleazy reggae club. Costs are calculated on a different scale." "The 'whatever the freight will bear' scale?" "Jeez!" "What was that, smartass?" "Okay, okay! I'll refund Mr. and Mrs. March five hundred." "You forget something," Benny grunted, "you boned their daughter. Oh, and that wild man bongo player who gave her some reefer and a little something else; I won't even go there, pal, 'cause that would smell like a fart in an elevator." "Tell you what, mate, I refund all the gig money, pay the band with my own and we forget the entire matter." "Nice try," Benny sneered, "You wish." ************ North had had enough of Taylor Lancaster. The weasel needed his ass kicked. April pleaded with him, "Make him give my phone back, Benny." Taylor snorted in aggravation. "Who is this? Your bodyguard?" North stepped over to him indicating the phone clenched in Taylor's hand. "Does that belong to her, munchmeat? Then you better give it back before you get broken fingers." The weasel who'd put a dick in old man March's daughter hastened to do so. She grabbed the iPhone from him and slid it like a wallet between her pink bikini bottoms and the right cheek of her fat young ass. It had been all he could do not to watch as she scrambled to get dressed, if those scant inches of fabric constituted being dressed. In her haste April had left one of her boobs partially uncovered, the lone tan nipple seemed to bore a hole through him like a Cyclopean eye. April noticed him noticing. When their eyes met he directed his attention back to Taylor. Verse by Avril Mars "So what are we going to do about the dirtbag getting his freak on with an underage girl?" "Benny, you know I'm legal." "Barely legal," he rumbled. March's slutty daughter defiantly arched her back so her tits stuck out. At least she'd gotten the errant nipple under wraps. North reflected the curvy little miss had been causing grief since the time she'd wiggled into her first bra. He lusted for her like most men and chided himself for even thinking about it. She said, "It's alright, Benny, I was just having a little fun." "It looked like a lot more than just a little from where I sat," corrected North, watching Taylor like a mongoose watches a cobra. April said, "How long were you standing there?" Not long, though longer than he should have, he thought, but said, "Does it matter?" He jerked a thumb at Taylor. "So whattya you wanna do about loverboy here?" To her credit April stood up for the guy, maybe he'd shown her a good time after all. "Well, if you ask me, Benny, nothing I guess. Whatever you do don't hurt him. He's a friend." "A friend who steals your phone and fucks you in the ass?" "Stop talking like that, Benny!" "It was just a figure of speech, honey." He made a low sound in the back of his throat and kicked at the sand. "So that's your final answer? This jerk gets a pass?" April nodded. Taylor ventured, "Since that's all settled I'll be off." "Sit tight, pal. If you value your kneecaps." April scolded him, "Now, Benny!" North gestured with the flat of his hand for her to hush, never taking his eyes off Taylor. "She just did you a big fat favor, cowboy, you get to walk. Scott free without a single broken bone." "I'll shove off then, Avril, I mean April. It's been lovely. Really." He took one step and North clamped a big hand on his shoulder, squeezed like a vise. "Didn't I tell you to sit tight? I hate repeating myself." "Sorry, mate," Taylor mumbled weakly. North thought, wimp. "As I was saying you get to walk on accounta Miss March says you can. But about the money. You will pay back every dollar to the family and get your ragtag collection of drug addicts outta here pronto." "Done!" agreed Taylor. "I'll mail a check for eight hundred tomorrow." North shook his head grimly, his narrow eyes going narrower. "What you'll do is pay me. Tonight. In person. In cash. I'll see it gets into the right hands, along with your apologies." "Where am I going to get that kind of cash on a Saturday night?" "I don't know and I don't care. I'm staying at the Pegasus downtown, meet me in the bar with the cash at ten o'clock sharp tonight. Don't keep me waiting and don't make me come looking for you. We clear?" "Perfectly." "And don't forget, if I know where you work then I know where you live." Taylor looked like he couldn't believe he was actually getting to leave. North unclamped his hand from the guy's shoulder, leaned over and said quietly so April wouldn't overhear, "If I see you within a mile of this girl ever again I'll break your neck. Now haul ass." The weasel took orders well. With a final "Jeez" he hauled ass. April said to North, "Well, I've never seen that side of you before." "I hope I don't ever have to show it to you again. Or someone just might get her bare ass paddled but good." She said wickedly, "That sounds like it could be fun." "Don't push your luck, honey." "Does that mean I don't have to get undressed and fuck you?" "What do you think, kid?" North said easily, fighting not to smile. Slutty or not, he liked the girl's sense of humor, always had. He knew she was much smarter than her father gave her credit for. All the hard fucking must have sobered her. "Tell me you're not going to rat me out to my parents." "What if I do?" "Don't tell them, Benny. Please, I'll do anything." North pursed his lips and thumbed his hat back of his head. "What's your plan, kid? Sex me up like you did those guys so I'll keep my mouth shut?" "I'll do whatever it takes." "If you think I'm cuddling up with you, you're suffering from delusions. Your dad pays too well for me to betray him by extorting you for sexual favors." "It wouldn't be like that," April promised with a twinkle in her blue eyes. "To be honest I really shouldn't keep the way you behaved today from your pop. He deserves to know." "I said I'd fuck you if that's what you want." "Not interested, kid," he lied, but he meant what he said anyway. April challenged him, "Go ahead and tell dad, Benny. Where were you when I drained the punchbowl or smoked some pot? You're supposed to be security here and that doesn't sound very secure. Daddy's not going to like you lying down on the job." "Maybe not, but me lying down with you definitely ain't gonna happen." "What now then?" He smiled at her. "Looks like a standoff, kid, but it really ain't. You know your father will cancel Berkeley if the idea gets in his head you're a drunken stoner sexpot who won't keep her grade point average up." He saw storm clouds darkening her eyes but didn't smile in victory, she was his boss's daughter after all. He shook his head like the world was ending and he couldn't do a thing but watch helplessly. At last he couldn't help but grin at the kid. She was a trooper, just like her dad. "Just get outta here before I change my mind." "So I don't even have to give you a blowjob?" Yep, a real trooper. "Thanks, but I had one this morning," North joked, he had a sense of humor too. "I may not have much class but I got more than that. Beat it, kid, I got things to do." "Thank you, Benny. You deserve a kiss at least." "Forget about it." Not after the pair of dicks she'd had in her mouth this afternoon. She gave him kind of a smile and kind of a wave and turned to leave. He said to her back, "Listen, honey, you might want to take a swim or something before going back in the house. You smell like . . ." "Like what?" "Like you been smoking cigarettes," drawled North. And like you just got your hot little snizz worked over hard. "Now scram." April trotted off with a short laugh, North unsure whether if from relief or what. Smiling to himself he shook his head again, etched a furrow in the sand with the toe of one of his tennis shoes. North watched the exaggerated wag of her ass until she disappeared from view. Yep, since her first bra.