6 comments/ 26097 views/ 5 favorites Summer Duty in Madeline Harbor By: kalodin (With creative input of my special friend, Katya) On a Sunday in late spring old Father Jerome announced from the pulpit that the Coast Guard summer contingent would be arriving in Madeline Harbor before the end of the month and would need rooms as usual. Those who had a room to spare would be doing the little resort town a service if they would help put these young men up until the small boat station closed for the season in September. He reminded the congregation that the Coast Guard paid these fellows an allowance for quarters; those who took them in would not be expected to do so for free. Father Jerome liked to make this announcement each year, feeling a kinship from his days as a Navy chaplain who had served with the Coast Guard. Mildred was intrigued. Certainly not because she was titillated by the notion of taking a healthy young man under her roof she told herself; rather because it would be an exemplary public service and be responsive to the pastor. Mildred Rikkonen was the epitome, she thought, of moral rectitude and religious devotion. She held her social, fraternal and parish layperson positions, present, former and future by divine right. She did not say as much publicly but was utterly certain in her soul that it was so. After all, she thought, I am a natural leader, a devout daughter of the church and socially prominent. Hadn't she been spouse of her late husband, an important executive in government? Hadn't he been, until his untimely death, head for more than 20 years of the second largest fish hatchery in the state? What others might have mistaken for overbearing bossiness, Mildred saw as determination and decisiveness born of a superior mind and will. What others might have mistaken for haughtiness and condescension, Mildred saw as her due by virtue of her social position. What others saw as ostentatious holier-than-thou posturing Mildred knew in her heart to be a pious example for others. By dint of relentless browbeating, by a certain ruthlessness and by indifference to and of others she was now or had been head of the altar society, a Eucharistic minister, president of the parish council, president of the VFW ladies auxiliary, secretary-treasurer of the Newcomers as well as director of the local duplicate bridge club and annual event coordinator of the Red Hat Society, first VP of the Daughters of the American Revolution and god knows what else. Altogether Mildred could be seen correctly as a self-righteously moralistic person who behaves as if superior to others; in other words she was a prig. Mildred was a formidable woman. To see her in the street was not unlike watching the passage of the Queen Mary, slicing through the North Atlantic. In full accoutrement she went out in girdled security (open gusset), voluminous rayon panties, with her necessarily commodious Playtex 18 hour bra supporting a 40 triple D bosom, gartered nylons on still shapely legs which she displayed to advantage with dresses hemmed just below the knee. Mildred was not the statuesque beauty she had once been but at 60 years old was matronly with broad hips on a big-boned frame and soft, smooth unblemished skin. She was not beautiful but neither was she plain. Menopause had come and gone for Mildred leaving in its wake a woman whose healthy sexual appetite she found heightened rather than diminished. She regretted Hi (for Hiemo) Rikkonen's demise but was grateful that he had not lingered, dropping dead one day two years earlier while mowing the lawn. At the same time she was increasingly agitated by the absence of regular, if not extraordinary, sexual servicing since becoming a widow. In the decade before his death, Hi seldom initiated sex with Mildred, but if she applied herself, she could arouse him sufficiently to give her a sexual sandwich even if not a banquet. In her devout mind Mildred put her restlessness and agitation down to the loss of Hi and not merely to the loss of church sanctified sex. She would hardly admit to herself that she liked sex, that she enjoyed sex and that she wanted a lot of sex. Kenneth So it was that young Kenneth, aged 20, arrived at Mildred's doorstep. He was a decent enough looking chap, thank goodness, she thought, and he seemed respectful of her. He was a relatively small young man, not nearly as tall or heavy as her Finnish heritage late husband had been. He was an inch or two shorter than Mildred was at 5'10". But he was trim and sturdy looking. She showed him his room and offered board as well as room if he wanted and he did. She explained the house rules; no smoking, no girls, and dinner time, the only meal he requested. He could have a drink or a beer or two, but drunkenness was not acceptable. There was but one bathroom which he could use in the morning before he went to work at 7 a.m. Since the Coast Guard secured for the day, save watch standers, at 3:30 p.m., she would serve dinner at 5, giving Kenneth time to change out of his uniform and shower. This arrangement worked satisfactorily until one morning when Mildred was awakened by her bladder and, wearing only a sheer summer nightie, quickly arose and headed for the bathroom. She was not yet accustomed to his presence; indeed she was oblivious to Kenneth until, with consternation and dismay, she heard the shower running. She was faced with the irksome choice between her bladder's imperative and her keen sense of ladylike decorum. Her bladder won. She rapped sharply on the bathroom door. "Kenneth, young man, I must use the facilities at once." She called this out in a rather imperious voice. "No problem," Kenneth answered immediately. "If ya gotta go, ya gotta go." Mildred hurried into the bathroom, hitching up her nightie as she entered and almost sat on the bowl before rather angrily realizing that he had left the seat up. Holding her nightie at her waist Mildred banged the seat down, turned, ensconced herself, let down her water in a copious, noisy splash and looked up to see Kenneth watching her with the shower curtain pulled aside to reveal his grinning face. "Oh," Mildred cried, "Don't look!" But Kenneth had looked and Mildred's broad derriere with her ample pussy had been momentarily displayed to his stimulated gaze as she bent and irritably banged down the toilet seat. Moreover he now clearly was enjoying watching her pee. "Sorry," he said, "but I heard the bang and wanted to make sure you were alright." Still smiling he ducked his head behind the curtain again. Mildred blushed. She could see his form clearly through the opaque shower curtain since he was backlit by the bathroom window over the tub. She was transfixed as she continued to pee since he now seemed to be washing his private parts; washing "it" thoroughly. If she wiped and patted herself dry when finished a bit more than necessary, she was simply making sure that she was completely dry so as not to soil her nightie; well wasn't she? She returned to her room and her bed, reaching up her nightie to make sure she was dry. She touched herself just as the thought occurred that he had surely seen her bottom and more as she bent over the toilet to put down the seat. That thought sent a frisson, warm and pleasant, from her "sacred chamber" out through her groin. How disgusting was that, she thought; his ogling her. She was dismayed to find that she was not dry between her nether lips and it was not urine that she felt. She quickly snatched a facial tissue from the box on her nightstand and wiped herself vigorously, which, was it her fault, brought still more good feeling and dampness to her vulva? Thus it took considerable effort and repeated wiping and patting what became a copious flow, before she finally was able to relax and, if she was post-orgasmic when she contentedly slumbered again, she did not admit as much to herself. Kenneth had not until then taken note of the coital possibilities of his landlady. But the enthralling view of her inviting broad ass and ample peeking pussy had given him an erection which he happily masturbated while revisiting Mildred's derriere and reflecting on how it would be to bang away in her. Later at dinner he tried to "apologize," actually hoping for an entre', but Mildred curtly said it was nothing she wanted to talk about any further. "Okay," Kenneth said, "But I just have to tell you, you sure do have a nice butt." Mildred glared at him and he said, "Okay, okay I won't say anything else." She turned away to serve the food and smiled to herself. A couple of weeks later, Mildred had her bridge group in when Kenneth came home. After introductions he sat on the sofa and appeared to be reading the local newspaper. But his furtive glances were not lost on the eagle-eyed Mildred, who realized when she looked about that he was looking up Gina McCuskey's dress! She arose, announcing she would be serving refreshments and positioned herself pointedly in Kenneth's line of sight. My, my, Mildred thought, Gina is just as much of a whore as I knew she was; no shame at all displaying herself like that to the randy young Kenneth. Gina McCuskey grew up in Madeline Harbor. She was 40 years old and had a 21 year old son who was stationed in Germany in the Air Force. Gina's mother was a member of the Chippewa Indians who occupied the reservation north of Madeline Harbor. Her Father had been a longshoreman who worked in Duluth, west of Madeline Harbor until his accidental death when Gina was still a toddler. After that her mother, Alice moved back and found a place in Madeline Harbor rather than on the reservation. Gina married McCuskey, a high school football player after he made her pregnant at 19. Gina had shiny black hair and brown eyes and her Native-American blood showed in her complexion and her cheekbones. She was attractive and had worked to maintain her figure although her hips had broadened a bit and her breasts had surrendered, but only slightly to gravity over the years. Gina liked men and men liked her. But she was a one lover at a time girl. McCuskey had never adjusted to adult life after being a local teenaged football star. He compensated for his limitations with booze and either was blind or indifferent to his wife's affairs. They shared a bed but were no longer conjugal. That evening at dinner Mildred confronted Kenneth. "When you moved in I thought you were a decent young man. But now I don't know. What do you suppose your mother would say if she knew you were looking up a woman's dress today? You should be ashamed!" But Kenneth was not ashamed. He laughed and said, "Well I just glanced up and her legs were wide open. And, holy crap, she wasn't wearing panties!" Mildred was shocked by this unexpected response. "You're disgusting," she said. But then she also thought, if he wanted to look up a woman's crotch why did it have to be someone else? He had already seen the entrance to her "sacred chamber." Would it not protect the virtue of the other ladies if she allowed him the occasional glimpse up her dress if it meant keeping him from compromising their chastity, even Gina's? Wouldn't that be a selfless sacrifice on her part? Didn't she have some responsibility since it had been her that placed the oversexed young man in their proximity? Hanging Curtains Twice each year Mildred, in the spring and fall, washed her curtains and shaped them, while still damp, on a curtain stretcher. [For the reader who is puzzled, curtain stretchers were found in countless homes in the Fifties. By the Sixties, window fashions led to their disappearance. But Mildred, with roots in an earlier time, continued using such a device at the time of this story, i.e., circa 1963.] The day came to rehang the freshly laundered, stretched and dried curtains. Mildred busied herself at the tedious task. More than just the curtains; the windows must first be washed. Moreover just removing the curtains from the stretcher was tiresome not to mention climbing, descending and repositioning the old wooden stepladder to redress the tall windows. Window day meant Mildred was up early and anxious to begin. She threw on a housedress and deferred her bath until she was finished. Since she would be moving about she put on a bra but went without panties; certainly not a girdle which would be most uncomfortable as she worked. Later in the morning she heard Kenneth moving about upstairs but her attire forgotten, (supposedly), she decided the task could be made both safer and completed more quickly, if she had the assistance of one readily available. When Kenneth came down in tee shirt and jeans, she said she would make him breakfast later but would he please help her finish the half-done windows. Kenneth mumbled his agreement, still yawning and stretching. "If you will move the ladder and hold it for me, I will climb up and rehang the curtains." In this way, when she mounted the step-ladder Kenneth glanced up as she ascended and to his quickly aroused delight was able to confirm the Mildred had indeed forgone panties. Furthermore she seemed oblivious to the fact that there was her "sacred chamber" on display for the randy youth, in all its hirsute glory. Kenneth was quite taken with this seeming breach of intimate decorum by his landlady and took in the repeated view of her fascinating pussy while his hardening cock fought for release from his restricting jeans. Mildred appeared to be oblivious to the exhibition she afforded the young cocksman. If one shared Kenneth's view however, one might note that her plump labia suggested, as they eased open and moistened, that Mildred might be more aware of her immodesty, at least on some level, than her demeanor suggested. In any event the display aroused Kenneth furiously; he left his hand deliberately in a position where the inside of her thigh slid over it as she descended until the tips of his fingers encountered her bush and soft flesh. Mildred dismounted and stepped quickly away but made no issue of where Kenneth's hand had just been. "Well, that's that," Mildred said. "Thank you for being such a help, Kenneth." In the bathroom, a moment later, she wiped her crotch dry of the oozing moisture slick between her thighs. Later that day, quite innocently of course, Mildred left suggestive clues that if Kenneth responded would lead him to her. She would never admit that they were invitational, but rather held in her mind later that he had simply misconstrued them because of his carnal preoccupation. Of course Kenneth would see and assess these suggestive clues while having foremost in his mind the vivid recollection of Mildred's inviting pussy earlier in the day. Mildred said goodnight in the parlor and left behind the book she was reading. When, curiosity piqued, Kenneth looked at what she was reading, it turned out to be a racy French novel about a matronly woman enthusiastically mounted by the gardener's young son. This and the day's earlier events made Kenneth staunchly erect once more; with penis in hand, he determined to retire to his own bedroom and there jack off to release. Two circumstances intervened to modify Kenneth's plans. One was the door to Mildred's bedroom which stood ajar. Need the obvious be stated? Kenneth stopped and looked in. It was a warm spring night and Mildred lay abed without covers. Her ankle length nighty had "inexplicably" bunched up; in the glow of a night light, Mildred's broad bottom was on prominent display. And her plump labia were also visible. Kenneth was transfixed then, holding his rigid penis in one hand and slowly pushing the door open wider. The inflamed, wretched young man had completely misconstrued Mildred's simply coincidental and innocent series of behaviors as an invitation into her bed. Mildred is "Ravished" Reflecting later, Mildred wanted to feel remorse for the awful, disgusting thing he forced her to do. He had forced her, hadn't he? She flushed, became agitated and had those feelings in that private, very private part of her body when, in her mind's eye, once again she saw herself doing "it." That it was not a typical feeling of remorse was only more evidence of how thoroughly he had debauched her. Definitely she had not, would never have agreed to do that foul thing as he insisted. Oh the beast had overwhelmed her; forced her to do it. Well if he hadn't actually forced her, he had anxiously entreated her hadn't he? Come on Mildred, you want it don't you? Take it in your mouth, he had pleaded. If you won't I'll just have to put in your pussy. Now open your lips and don't you dare bite me. Hadn't he kept pressing that hot stiff thing against her lips, even caressed her cheeks with it? Hadn't she tried to stop him only somehow to have left a sticky snail trail that had leaked out of it about her face as she tried to wrestle away from it? An onlooker might have been forgiven for concluding that her resistance looked curiously like enthusiasm. But she was adamant to herself that it was really a measure of her dread. That she had then, albeit "reluctantly" kissed, fondled, licked and sucked it and done quite splendidly, did not mean she had done it willingly. However, her own body had betrayed her with its disgustingly carnal response to his overwhelming lust. She would never have willingly allowed it such sensual release. Yet, she found herself leaking copiously from between her tightly clamped thighs. And more, it was not urine that she secreted but the slick coital ointment that a woman in heat makes when anticipating copulation. Worse, that small and, oh my so sensitive appendage at the apex of her vulva had emerged unbidden and insistent on attention. What was she to do? Could she be faulted if she caressed it? No more than she could be faulted when her hips, seemingly of their own accord, spread wide to allow him manual access to her most private parts. "Savagely" he had impaled her poor vagina with his probing fingers. Hadn't she thrust herself more and more vigorously, desperately trying to free her abused chamber of those nasty invaders? She could not be blamed could she, if her actions had precisely the opposite effect than she wanted to achieve? She had wanted them removed and if it took longer and more climactic thrusting to finally get him to remove them she could hardly be blamed for that as well. Then there was the matter of his, no way to put it delicately, his ejaculation while his stiff male member was still pushed into her mouth. It had seemed momentarily as though he had wished to extricate his leaking phallus from her slurping, smacking, moaning and humming oral cavity. Could she then be blamed if she had clutched desperately to his buttocks, refusing him release, out of fear that he would impale her sacred vagina on that swollen red lance? In this way she had selflessly taken his repeated orgiastic squirts into her mouth and swallowed it all and licked his member thoroughly clean thereafter, solely to preclude any wayward sperm from befouling any other part of her body. Perhaps it was a manifestation of something like a Stockholm syndrome that led her in their mutual satiation (she had cum on his hand while he came in her mouth) to thereafter spoon her bum tightly against his groin. Poor Mildred, she failed, at least she would say she failed to understand that, rather than surcease she was actually prompting a prelude to more degrading abuse by her vigorous young boarder. For as it soon became rampantly apparent young Kenneth had but briefly lain hors de combat. Now eager to return to the fray, his hardening member was ensconced between her derriere cheeks, perilously adjacent to her vulva and all that lay enticingly just beyond that hot, that wet, that inviting entrance. As his again stiff erection probed her nether regions, Mildred realized "aghast" that if Kenneth shifted only a tad he would bring his swollen gland into direct contact with the entrance to her most sacred and private chamber. Summer Duty in Madeline Harbor It soon became apparent that Kenneth was enthusiastically pursuing just such a juncture. Moreover, to her horror, Mildred's generous labia seemed somehow to be encouraging the foul thing rather than providing firmly tight denial. Mildred determined to try to appeal to Kenneth's decency, assuming there was any vestige remaining in his lust-soaked person and to hopefully maneuver her opening away from now imminent impalement. "Oh Kenneth," she gasped, "please don't shove your big thingy up into me." Kenneth's response was a devilish chuckle followed by the comment, "Mrs. Rikkonen, I wouldn't think of putting my 'big thingy' in you if don't want it." However, curiously the second element of her two pronged plan not only failed as she squirmed but actually facilitated that which she desperately sought to avoid. Well she did mean to prevent him entry, didn't she? Thus it was that Kenneth's swollen and eager cock buried itself groin-deep in Mildred's treasonous chamber. Not only did her cunt not reject the awful invader but seemed to welcome it. Certainly Mildred could not be blamed for her body's betrayal. Mildred cried out as Kenneth, not so much speared the unwilling lady as rather, he simply slid easily inside, grunting happily as he did. "Ooooh no, no, no," Mildred groaned, "You must take it out." Yet she made no move to remove herself from the marauding invader. Who can say what odd juxtaposition of their respective bodies was such that as Kenneth actually withdrew himself, preparatory to thrusting in again, Mildred's reaction was to "inadvertently" thrust herself back after the retreating member rather than free herself of it? Oddly, although she would insist to herself that she tried, Mildred was unable for some minutes thereafter to coordinate her movements to extricate the foul invader instead of regrettably impaling herself over and over again. Frankly, if she was not then fucking the lad's brains out but was trying to escape the intense intercourse now apparently mutual, an onlooker could be forgiven if he or she could perceive no difference. Kenneth threw himself into her with all the athletic prowess of his youth, now in pursuit of the timeless pleasure he had happily discovered to be awaiting between her thighs. Mildred found herself enthusiastically clutching the invader that now imparted more and more intense waves of screaming fire that washed over her. Her late husband had serviced her needs adequately over the years of their marriage. But now Kenneth, illicitly and, let's face it, in a horribly sinful way, was taking her into a heaven of feeling she had never in her 60 years felt before. She surrendered to it, could not do otherwise; she came wildly, thrashing and crying out unintelligibly as orgasm on top of orgasm flooded her body. Kenneth, thoroughly transported by Mildred's wild orgasmic thrashings, zoomed to his own orgasm, squirting copiously into Mildred's hot cunt. "Oh what have you done, you awful young man," Mildred cried, managing to squeeze out a tear or two. "You're vicious and hateful. Please go to your own room and leave me to my shame." Kenneth got up from her bed, leaned over and kissed Mildred's exposed shoulder. "Holy shit, Mildred," he said with another chuckle, "You really are a great fuck. Don't beat yourself up because you enjoyed it so much." Mildred angrily turned to face him and hissed, "Get out you beast. I DID NOT enjoy being viciously ravaged! Do you realize my reputation would be ruined if anyone ever found out what you did to me? I shall have to confess to Father Adrian. Oh I am ruined, just ruined." [Author's note: Mildred suffered herself to be ruined frequently thereafter by the carefree and wayward Kenneth.] Mildred's Confession The pleasure she derived from Kenneth's assault left Mildred in a bit of a quandary. She knew she had resisted him, of that she was firmly convinced. Yet she had orgasms aplenty and better than any she had experienced in her years of marriage. She was confident that if she explained this dilemma in detail to Father Adrian he would be able to help her understand the paradox of it. Saturday afternoon Mildred went to confession. "The thing is Father," she said, "I haven't really sinned because this young man ravished me even though I told him no repeatedly. But I thought I would discuss it with you in case you have any guidance for me about how to deal with the situation. "I am sorry to hear that you were subjected to such violence," Father Adrian said, "I hope you are not injured. But if you were actually forced against your will, then there is no sin on your part. But tell me," he continued, "where did this assault take place?" "Oh, well, it was in my bed." "I see. The rapist got into your bedroom somehow, maybe climbed in a window?" "No he came in my bedroom door." "He forced his way into your room?" "No, he just swung the door open the rest of the way." Father Adrian momentarily dropped that avenue of questioning and asked instead if there was any penetration. "Well of course there was Father," she said, "I know what sex is after all. He put it both in my mouth and in my sacred chamber." "Your 'sacred chamber'," Father Adrian said, puzzled and his comment hung in the air before he realized what she meant. Mildred, somewhat irked, began to think the priest was not very quick to recognize that she was being decorous and circumspect in her language. "Yes, Father," she said coolly, in that place men want so badly between a woman's legs." Father Adrian was young but knew already from experience with penitents, particularly women, that some of them were reluctant to candidly state that they had committed fornication or adultery. He wondered if this penitent was one of those women. He pressed on. "My daughter," he said, "the Lord will forgive you, as he did the woman taken in adultery. I mean to say if this was actually something you took pleasure in and welcomed it, even if in protest, then you may be assured of forgiveness if that is the case; that is as long as you resolve to not do it again outside the sacrament of matrimony." Mildred was nonplussed. "I told you Father, I did not will it to happen. I can't be accountable can I if my body reacted as it did?" "Well how did your body respond to the penetration?" Mildred flushed and felt warm suddenly and was glad for the screen that obscured her from the priest. She reflected on the fact that the priest could not break the seal of the confessional. She allowed herself, within this veil of secrecy, some graphic candor. "Although I did not will it, Father, I did like the feel of him in my mouth and when he put it in, I mean his penis, when he put it in me later." "Later," Father Adrian wondered aloud, "What do you mean later?" "After he ejaculated in my mouth, I mean because I wouldn't let him pull out, and, well, I did have an orgasm then because he had his fingers in me too, you see; after that I was relaxed; I did not realize I had presented my bottom to him." Father Adrian was confused and said, "About his fingers, he had them in your mouth too?" Mildred could not believe the young priest was so utterly naïve. "He put his fingers in my vagina," she said, unable to keep the exasperation out of her voice. Father Adrian had a sudden vivid image of the lady with her mouth full of penis and her debaucher's fingers busily pumping her vagina. It was suddenly intense; it made his stiffening cock twitch and the unfortunate man groaned; a sound not lost on Mildred. She knew well enough what the sound meant. Her pussy silently sighed in response. More little wet pearls oozed into her vulva and further dampened her panties. Poor Father Adrian was an experienced confessor but he had not previously experienced Mildred. "Are you alright Father," she asked smiling to herself; the question completely disingenuous. While she would be incensed at the suggestion, among her many "virtues," Mildred was also a latent clerical predator. She flushed with excitement at the realization that Father Adrian was aroused and that she had done it by telling him in detail what Kenneth had done. She licked her lips. "Shall I continue, Father?" "You said there was penetration, but later," Father Adrian said hoarsely. "Yes, Father, he had his penis between the cheeks of my bottom and it began to, well you know, to get aroused again. I asked him not to, begged him but he did it anyway, just slid it all the way into my vagina. He clutched me tightly'; I mean my tits, so I could not remove myself. I thrashed about but that only excited him more. And I am ashamed to admit that, as I said, it began to feel very, very good." Mildred surprised herself when she said, "tits." Why she had chosen that rather vulgar word she was uncertain she told herself, but was further delighted when she heard Father Adrian sigh that way again. Father Adrian was becoming very distracted and hoped the woman could not hear him trying to silently ease the zipper of his trousers open under his cassock. But Mildred seemed to have a sixth sense about such matters or perhaps could smell the priest's arousal. She asked unctuously if she had made him uncomfortable. Father Adrian allowed that they might pause briefly; the next several minutes there was silence, but for the rustle of cassock and dress, and periodic muffled grunts. Father Adrian came in his cassock and Mildred had to retrieve her handkerchief from her purse and wipe her thighs as they concluded her unique confession. In parting Father Adrian did admonish Mildred that she must remove herself from or remove from her home, the young Kenneth who, as an occasion of sin, endangered her resolution to say nothing of her immortal soul. Gina McCuskey Saturday night Bernard and Gina McCuskey loved to go drinking and dancing at the Madeline Harbor Inn during the summer when the joint was open until 3 a.m. Red LaLonde, the proprietor, drew a crowd on Saturdays by employing little old Jimmy Dykes, a local disc jockey, to spin record after record, to fire up the crowd. Red used Jimmy and his records, rather than live music because Jimmy was less expensive and the music was continuous whether Jimmy was there or passed out. Red was a shrewd businessman and knew that music made the crowd more spirited and in consequence, they drank more and kept the till ringing. Red was good at sensing the mood of the crowd and liked it worked up and a bit raucous but short of busting up the place. Still, just in case, Red kept a Louisville Slugger behind the bar and was ready to use it if necessary, as he had demonstrated over the years, but was thankful when he did not have to get it out. Red was also grateful to the Coast Guard for its rescue boat moorings and the eight young men that it sent to man the moorings during the summer. The oldest of these young men was 25 and they were unmarried or unaccompanied by wives and families. Saturday night there were often five or six of the trim and fit sailors on the make in his establishment. They were good for business because they drew the ladies, whether married or not, with husbands along or not, to the Madeline Harbor Inn. By one a.m., the joint could be heard a block away but even those who might have been disturbed by the noise understood that the Inn was an economic linchpin of the local economy. They largely overlooked the noise and smells of beer, booze, perfume, cigarette smoke, sweat and hot pussy that wafted from the Inn. Gina McCuskey was one of those responsible for the smells, including hot pussy. She loved the nightlife on Saturday, providing, as it did, relief from the drudgery of clerking the rest of the week in her father's Piggly Wiggly supermarket. Bernie McCuskey hated the Piggly Wiggly and instead worked as a largely ineffective but tolerated shipyard foreman at his cousin's Madeline Harbor Yacht Services, consisting of a marine railway, chandlery, storage yard and yacht brokerage office. Gina's interest in the Madeline Harbor Inn was dancing and whatever action might develop with likely prospects that she ground herself against on the dance floor. Bernie's interest in the place was getting drunk to the point of stupor. Lately Gina's particular interest was one of the young Coast Guardsmen who boarded with the insufferable widow, Mildred Rikkonen. Gina felt sure the young man was interested because he stared unabashedly up her dress earlier in the week when she was playing bridge at Mildred's on her day off. Gina had tested the level of his interest by going to the bathroom where she removed her panties. Returning to the table she had been stimulated by the young man, now nearly drooling as he drank in the sight of Gina's exposed sex. If Mildred had not interposed her formidable person in the man's line of vision, glaring at her as well, Gina might have made the young man cum she thought, smiling to herself. Women know these things in a way that men will never understand. Mildred's blocking Kenneth's view of her crotch and glare at Gina, told the younger woman volumes. Gina thought to herself, why you dirty old bitch, you're fucking this kid. She gave Mildred a knowing smile that made it abundantly clear to the older woman that Gina at least strongly suspected Mildred had welcomed young Kenneth between her thighs. But what the hell, Gina thought, if I have my way, I'm going to fuck him too. It was amidst this reverie that Gina looked up to find the young sailor, Kenneth, standing in front of her. "Hi," he said, barely audible in the noise, "I'd sure like to dance with you." Bernie, bleary eyed, barely took notice as Gina stood and made her way to the dance floor with Kenneth. "Dance floor" was perhaps more formality than reality as a name for the small square of space packed with sweaty bodies squeezed together. What they were doing was not so much dancing as bumping and grinding against one another. "Do you remember me from last week when you were playing cards at Mrs. Rikkonen's," Kenneth asked? Gina ground her hips tightly against Kenneth's groin and smiling she said, "I usually remember guys who look up my dress; yes I most certainly remember you. Did you like what you saw?" "After you went to the bathroom," Kenneth said, "and returned without your panties I thought I was going to cum until Mrs. Rikkonen got in the way. By the way, my name is Kenneth." "I'm Gina," she said, "Would you like to have a closer look, Mr. Coast Guard? If you'll help me get my husband home and poured into bed, we can have some fun together if you want." At the McCuskey home Gina and Kenneth put Bernie to bed with some difficulty. They celebrated their feat on the living room rug by having wine spritzers and some of the fun Gina had promised. This included much kissing, open mouthed and tongue laden. Both of them appeared pleased with the stimulation and sexual excitement this afforded as they moved on to other activity, if not innovative it was time tested and proven. Gina put her mouth elsewhere on Kenneth, an act which, to judge by his response, was received with great delight. Since Gina wanted the young man to thoroughly service her she left off her oral stimulation of his hard cock before taking him all the way to ejaculation. She challenged her young fornicator to reciprocate and he did; Gina was soon thrashing about on the rug and pulling on Kenneth's hair while she thrust her soaking crotch into his face. She became so excited this produced multiple orgasms and a remarkable spurt of coital lubricant into Kenneth's mouth and on the rug. As her crescendo of orgasm's diminished she released her lover who was now gasping for breath and swallowing to clear his mouth. "Holy shit, Gina," Kenneth said, "I thought you were going to drown me or suffocate me or pop my ear drums." Gina rolled over and stuck her bottom in the air. "How about you shut up and fuck me now," she replied. Kenneth did as he was told. Soon they filled the living room with the sloppy sounds of a wet cunt plunged into repeatedly by a hard and enthusiastic cock. Their grunts, groans and mutual urgings could be heard throughout the house. Fortunately they were drowned out for Bernie by his own stentorian snoring. Gina enjoyed several more orgasms of increasing intensity until ultimately cumming in a duet of ecstasy as Kenneth unloaded furiously into her clutching, greedy cunt. Kenneth is "banished" Filled with resolution after her exceptionally explicit confession and determined to follow Father Adrian's instructions, after Sunday dinner Mildred told Kenneth she must speak to him and told him to wait for her in the parlor. She was resolved that he must leave. Kenneth, bemused by Mildred's imperious manner, went in and sat down on the red velvet Victorian sofa. Mildred was understandably anxious and poured each of them a snifter of peach brandy. Before carrying the drinks with her into the parlor she took a long pull straight out of the bottle. She had intended to sit on the sofa and have Kenneth take seat in the matching wingback. She was a bit thrown to find him on the sofa but could not then order him into the chair. She sat on the sofa as well, albeit maintaining a chaste remove from the dangerous young man. "First, I want you to know I forgive you for the foul deeds you committed on me the other night," she announced magnanimously. Mildred prided herself, after all, on her ability to forgive others for their misdeeds and was thankful each day she did not herself go about sinning so casually. She made sure she gave thanks to the Lord she was not a sinner like these others were who often transgressed against her. She paused expectantly, waiting for Kenneth's apology and expression of gratitude for her forgiving attitude. Candor demands it be acknowledged Mildred's first impulse was considerably short of the magnanimity she now expressed. She had, if momentarily, thought of bringing her accusation to the small municipal police department. Candor also demands it be acknowledged Mildred hated no one with quite as much black hatred as she hated the municipal police chief's wife who returned Mildred's high opinion of her in equal measure. It took Mildred only a moment to clearly envision the upshot of reporting Kenneth's imagined assault to the police. She could hear, in her mind, the dinner conversation and raucous laughter as the police chief related her accusation to his fat hateful wife. The aftermath in turn would be her shame would be known throughout their small resort town before the sunset that evening. She would follow Father Adrian's instructions to tell young Kenneth he must find elsewhere to room and board but she would not also make a police report. In order to drive home the extent of her forgiveness she then added, "And young man I have also decided not to ruin your life for you by reporting your assault on me to the police." It seemed straightforward and her gesture ought to have been readily accepted. It was not. Kenneth laughed. He actually laughed. Instead of an expression of remorse and gratitude for Mildred's forbearance and kindness, the young man was laughing at her! He took his snifter and drank deeply. "Bullshit," Kenneth said when he had regained his composure. "You happily went down on me and you very happily fucked me as much as I fucked you. No, even more than I fucked you." "Well, I never...!" Mildred exclaimed. "I am trying very hard to be a good Christian and you, you animal you simply laugh in my face. How could you possibly think I liked the foul things you did to me? No, don't answer; I don't really care to hear any more of your dirty talk." Kenneth reached out and put his hand on Mildred's knee. He scooted closer so that his hard thigh touched hers. Summer Duty in Madeline Harbor "Mrs. Rikkonen," he said, "I know you liked all of it and I'll just wager your panties are damp right now. What say we see if I'm not right?" As he spoke his warm, firm hand slid slowly, exquisitely and deliciously up inside her thigh. Does the reader really need be told Mildred's panties were damp and had been long enough to make the wet gusset translucent; her matted pubic hair and swollen labia were visible? "Now stop that!" Mildred cried out as he caressed her thigh. "Take your hand away this instant!" She gripped his hand with hers but curiously, neither clamped her thighs nor pushed his hand away. As a result his fingertips continued to lightly stroke her vulva through the negligible fabric of her soaking panty gusset. When she felt him trying to slip his fingers in beside the gusset she scooted away and ended up half recumbent on the sofa. One foot was now on the floor and her other leg was pulled up at the knee against the back of the sofa. Kenneth simply leaned over and before she realized what was happening had placed his open mouth over her entire vulva. The feeling was incredible and instantaneous. Mildred moaned loudly and made a sound that could not be mistaken for displeasure. When Kenneth made clear his intent, she willingly raised her hips to facilitate his removal of her panties. Then his mouth was on her once more and his tongue worked her pussy vigorously. Amidst the fantastic work-over of her cunt Mildred dimly recollected she had meant to tell Kenneth he must find elsewhere to live but she could no longer fathom why on God's earth she would banish him. He sucked her rigid clit into his mouth and that was that, Mildred shrieked and had a crescendo of orgasms as she pulled Kenneth's face into her pussy gripping him by the ears. "Fuck me you bastard," she heard someone say in a familiar voice. And Kenneth happily obliged. So Kenneth passed his free time through the summer by debauching Mildred Rikkonen frequently on weekdays and being debauched repeatedly under Gina McCuskey's demanding direction on the weekends. End