I know it sounds rather arrogant in an "I�ve got mine" sort of way, but nothing beats having a beach house to retreat to when the world seems to be weighing too heavily on your shoulders. I drive a modest car and I don�t spend a lot on clothes, and I generally fly tourist class (except when a studio is paying), but when I began selling my screenplays at regular intervals, almost the first thing I did with the extra money was to buy a nice, three-bedroom beach house an hour down the coast.

I keep a pied a terre in town, just a small apartment, for when I have day-long, deadline-driven meetings and such (I�m not comfortable in hotels, no matter how fancy), but more and more I find I do my best work at the beach. And when my brain clogs up and the dialogue just won�t come, I move out to a redwood lounge chair on the deck near the Jacuzzi and close my eyes and listen to the surf for awhile.

Rather amazingly, this stretch of the beach hasn�t been overdeveloped yet. There are lots of other beach houses, of course, but they�re still spaced comfortably apart. No one can stand on his deck or patio and peer into his neighbor�s kitchen. That will probably change in a few years, and then I may have to move to the mountains or something.

Still, I can see the roofs of the nearest couple of homes to the north over the dunes and I can usually tell when they have people in them. (To the south, there�s a small headland that blocks the sight line.) I seem to be the only resident in this stretch who�s more or less full-time, which is also nice from my point of view. The next place up belongs to a couple who have been in the throes of an acrimonious divorce for at least a year and the house just stands there empty, presumably awaiting a decision by the court. The place beyond that is owned by a middle-aged lady with two daughters, also a divorc�e, and that�s where my story actually begins.

I was sitting out there in the sun one afternoon in June, a draft script lying on the deck with a green pen stuck between the pages where I had left off editing, and I was sort of drifting comfortably along in a half-doze. Part of my mind was vaguely aware of the seagulls, and I decided I must be dreaming because they seemed to be talking. And then they stopped. And then there was a faint whispering.

This was apparently enough for my unconscious to take notice of and I finally managed to open one eye. Leaning on the redwood railing surrounding my deck were two girls in what seemed to be their early teens watching me with interest. The younger one smiled and gave me a little wave. The older one cleared her throat.

"Sorry, we didn�t mean to wake you. We were just walking on the beach and saw you up here, but we didn�t know you were asleep." She shrugged apologetically.

"We were just snooping," added the younger one. Okay, I appreciate honesty.

The older one gave her companion a quelling look. "I�m Laura Lewis," she said. "This is my annoying little sister, Carrie." The younger one just grinned cheerfully. "We live a couple houses up that way." She pointed vaguely up the beach. "We just came back from France," she added. Her sister gave her a look again.

I gestured toward the gate. "C�mon in, if you like, ladies. I�m Tom Hadley, by the way." I hadn�t actually seen Mrs. Lewis�s kids, though I knew of their existence. Somehow, I had thought they would be much younger. But as they came in through the gate and approached my recliner, I pegged the older one at about fourteen and her kid sister at maybe twelve.

Both girls were, naturally, wearing bikinis. (This is southern California; it�s practically a uniform.) Carrie, the younger one, was outfitted in fire engine red. Her halter top showed the very beginnings of a bust line, just a couple of little pokies behind the thin cotton. She still had some puppy fat but there was the promise of a stunning figure in a few years. Her sister, who also had a deeper tan, had opted for a contrasting white suit. The top was quite low-cut, showing off an impressively up-thrust pair of tits. Her briefs were lower-slung and displayed a flat stomach and a nice, narrow waist. Slender hips and nice, long legs, too. When they stopped a few feet away, Laura tucked her hands behind her, which meant pulling her shoulders back and accentuating her mammary profile. Carrie was more obvious in displaying what she had (or hoped to have), cocking her hip and setting her fist on it in a highly flirtatious pose. I sometimes wonder if girls secretly take lessons in this sort of thing.

"So, you were in France?"

"Yeah," said Carrie. "It was so cool! We went to the coat— Um. Something."

Laura glanced around and finally perched on the edge of the other lounger. "C�te d'Azur," she supplied, rolling her eyes. "The Riviera, you know."

"Yes, I know it," I replied. "I�ve been there a few times. I�m in the movie business," I added, frankly trying to impress them a little. God knows why.

Laura studied me with more interest. "You�re an actor? �Hadley�? I don�t think I. . . ."

"No, I write movies. Or rewrite them. Never been in front of the camera and never want to be."

"Like what?" said Carrie as she sat down cross-legged on the deck. I mentioned a couple of titles. "Sorry, I don�t know those," she said a little sadly. Well, I never said I was George Lucas.

"From the looks of that tan," I said to Laura, "you seem to have spent some time on the beach."

She nodded with a pleased glance down at her caramel-toned legs. "They have really great beaches," Carrie cut in. "And some really hot boys. It�s too bad most of them only speak French."

Hot boys? Okay, it appeared Carrie had discovered hormones, the fledgling state of her physical development notwithstanding.

"And you know what, Mr. Hadley? A lot of the girls on the beach there don�t even wear tops! Even when they get, you know, older!"

"Well, the French, like most Europeans, have a much more relaxed attitude about nudity than here in the States. They don�t take skin so seriously."

"I know. We got to run around in just our bottoms and Mom didn�t even mind." She looked mischievously over at her sister. "You should see how even Laura�s tan is without her top!" Laura�s eyes started rolling again but she didn�t protest this revelation out loud.

Carrie looked back at me somewhat appraisingly, then back at her sister. Then she surprised us, and probably even herself. "You know, Laura, you ought to lose the top here, too," she decided. "You don�t want to mess up your French tan. Right? No one will see you here." Except me, of course.

Laura stared at her a moment, then looked at me. Then she sighed rather dramatically and shrugged, and her hands went behind her back. A moment later she slipped the halter top off over her head. She dropped it on the deck and pushed her shoulders way back, practically insisting I notice those lovely young tits and the hard little nipples surmounting them. They were evenly tanned, too, not a pale line in sight. It really did look much better that way. Less nude somehow. They were still shallow, more so than I had expected; her bikini obviously had been designed by a man who appreciated cleavage. Then she swiveled around and leaned back in the lounge chair and closed her eyes. Go ahead and look if you want, her posture said. I don�t care.

I found myself swallowing as I stared. Then I blinked and glanced back at Carrie — just in time to see her tossing away her own top. As noted above, she had no breasts to speak of, not yet, but there were two pointy protrusions on her chest that demonstrated what the male population could look forward to. Her tan was even and uninterrupted, like her sister�s.

And that�s how that afternoon went. We just lounged and talked for an hour or so. Young girls are Nature�s greatest gift to the human species and I�ve always enjoyed their company. Both of them seemed to regard their partial nakedness as completely natural and I realized, after awhile, that I had, too. I didn�t even develop an erection.

And then, finally, Laura sat up and stretched and informed her sister that they had to be getting back home because they were going out somewhere with their mother that evening. Both girls picked up their tops and put them back on before standing up, and then they thanked me very politely for letting them stop and visit, and then they were gone, stepping lightly back up the beach.

The girls� recurring presence made it a very pleasant summer. Every few days they would stop by and spend a few minutes or maybe an hour just hanging out. Sometimes they appeared in cut-off shorts and sleeveless tops and sandals. A couple of times, when it was a little cooler, they wore jeans and tennis shoes. But when the sun was beating down, they always opted for bikinis.

I also noticed that they never came to the door. They only joined me when I was out on the deck, which led me to suspect that they actually passed by much more often but didn�t want to disturb me when they thought I might be working. They were nice kids and I found myself lounging out there even more often than had been my habit, just to make myself available.

And then one afternoon a month later, our relationship shifted. Laura and Carrie came around in their bathing suits as usual. And, as had become their custom when visiting me, they removed their tops almost immediately. I had come to enjoy this little strip show very much, letting my gaze linger on that smooth, soft, young flesh, but never suggesting anything further, much less attempting to touch them. They seemed to trust me so I was leaving the choice of action entirely up to them. Nor did I want to risk frightening them off.

This time, Laura was in her usual spot on the other recliner while Carrie sat, cross-legged as usual, on the other end of my own lounger, her thigh lightly pressed against my calf. "Tom, could I ask a favor?" Carrie said, her eyes bright. (It hadn�t taken long to get them to call me by my first name.) "Could I please have something cold to drink? I�m just, you know, really, really thirsty."

"Yes, of course." I swung my feet over and looked at Laura. "You, too, sweetheart?"

She smiled up at me. "Yes, please."

I got up and headed for the door, but when I got there I discovered they were both right behind me. I had meant to bring them out something but they followed me inside, and stood looking around the kitchen while I put my head in the fridge. "Coke? Root beer? Or I have——"

"Actually," Carrie said behind me, "my sister wants to show you something." I turned around, the fridge door still in my hand, to find that Laura had dropped her bikini bottoms and was leaning back with her elbows on the counter and her ankles neatly crossed. She looked me in the eye without blinking but didn�t say anything.

"We talked about it," Carrie went on, "and she decided she really wanted to do this. Just to see what you think. You know?"

What did I think? I thought Laura was a scrumptious little number. Her tan was uninterrupted from forehead to toes. Even after the French beach, I figured she must make regular trips to a salon. Her pussy was bare and perfectly shaped and there was the slightest gap at the tops of her slim thighs.

"Damn," I said, which got me a quick smile from both girls. Somehow, I knew not to make a grab for her. I was legally in the wrong here, no matter who had started it, but I didn�t think this was an attempt at entrapment and blackmail, or anything like that. These two were practicing their wiles on what they had decided was a safe target. A questionable decision on their part — they didn�t really know me that well — but I�m not actually a rapist.

"You want me to do it, too?" I looked back at Carrie, whose eyebrows were up and whose thumbs were hooked in her waistband. I just nodded. She quickly pushed her bottoms down and stepped out of them, then moved over beside her sister and adopted a similar pose. My mouth was going dry. Two cute little girls, standing there naked in my kitchen, inviting me to look my fill. How does one react to something like that? Short of a heart attack?

Carrie studied my face for a moment, then turned and whispered something to her sister that sounded like, "Shall we?" Laura nodded. They stepped forward and each took one of my arms, steering me into the living room. They pushed me down to sit on the carpet between them and Carrie, the talker of the two, took charge again.

"See, we spend a lot of time online in the summer when we don�t have homework or anything. Mom doesn�t care and most of our friends are out of town and stuff. And we find really strange websites, with all kids of dirty pictures and videos. And it gets us both kind of horny." She glanced at Laura, who was openly eyeing my crotch. "I know we�re supposed to be too young to visit those kind of sites but, like I said, Mom doesn�t care what we do online and we�ve learned a lot of stuff about sex."

I kept looking, first at one girl and then at the other, my gaze moving from eyes to nipples to pussy. The way they both were sitting, thighs apart and ankles crossed, there was a visible gap between their labia and two little pink clits were on display. My vision was narrowing to a tunnel and my pulse had increased.

"Anyway," Carrie said, "we figured you weren�t going to tell on us if we wanted to come over here and, um, play around a little." She looked me in the eye. "Right? You�ll keep this a secret?"

Did she really think I was going to tell anyone what was going on here in my living room? I�d be behind bars in ten minutes flat. But when it comes to women, especially young, attractive, very sexy women, I�ve always had a self-destructive streak. My gonads just take over.

"Girls, you have my solemn word, I won�t tell anyone. This is just between us."

"Good," Carrie said with a big smile. "Then I want you to lie back on the floor because there�s something I saw on one of those websites that really got me hot. And I want to try it." She got up on her knees and gave me an expectant look while Laura sat up straight and observed.

So I lay back on the carpet and watched as Carrie knee-walked over to me, moving up level with my head. Then she carefully swung one slim leg over and straddled my face. Her crotch was an inch from my nose. She adjusted her position slightly and spread her knees farther, and suddenly her pussy was spreading itself open against my lips. "Lick me, Tom," she whispered.

My mouth was dry but I immediately stuck my tongue out and pushed it between her labia as far as I could. Her breath caught and she jerked slightly. I cupped both hands around the backs of those smooth thighs and pulled her even closer, sucking at her clit and moving my tongue all around it. She twitched and gyrated her hips and gave a series of little gasps and moans. I let my fingertips slip down between her ass cheeks and pressed one digit against her asshole, twisting it slightly as I sucked at her pussy. That made her squirm even more. By now, she was bent over and her eyes were closed as she clutched at the sides of my head and hunched herself against my mouth.

I became aware that Laura had moved up behind my head and was licking her lips as she stared at my tongue diving into her little sister�s cunt. She cupped her small breasts with both hands and pinched her own nipples. Then she swallowed and let out a long, slow, shuddering breath. She glanced down at my face and said shakily, "Don�t mind me, Tom." Then she disappeared again.

The next thing I knew, a pair of warm young hands had unzipped my shorts and were working them down my legs. I couldn�t see what was happening behind Carrie�s shivering body but I could visualize it. The unseen hands returned and hauled my underwear down, too, and I felt my cock spring to attention. Another moment and Laura had wrapped her smooth hand around my erection and was inexpertly moving it up and down. It was a marvelous sensation.

I was trying to give Carrie my closest attention but it wasn�t easy. While I was sucking and licking and slurping up her sweet juices, which were increasing in quantity as she got hotter and hotter, I was also feeling Laura�s hands stroking my cock and slipping underneath to play with my balls. Then the older girl paused, to be followed a moment later by the warmth of her mouth covering the head of my penis. She didn�t really know how to suck a cock but that hardly mattered. It was the very tentativeness of her efforts that made it so erotic. Who cares about sex with a professional whore when you can be the plaything of two sweet young cuties like these?

Actually, this was all so unexpected, and the sensations were piling up so fast, it took only a couple of minutes before I felt the mercury rising in my thermometer. My mouth was full of Carrie�s pussy and I couldn�t even squirm to give Laura fair warning of what was about to happen. I just hoped I didn�t frighten her.

As it happened, when I finally erupted, Laura had just sucked in my erection and the head was nearly in the back of her mouth. I could almost feel my cum spattering against the back of her throat, but, amazingly, she didn�t jerk back or choke. She just froze and kept a grip on my cock, and swallowed and swallowed. Carrie felt my abrupt jerking and twitching, of course, and peered back over her shoulder. Then she hunched over and looked down at me again and gave me a big, pleased grin. Her tongue came out between her lips a bit and she closed her eyes and began humping her cunt against my face. Another few seconds and she went rigid, enjoyed a jerk or two of her own, and then went boneless with a sigh. I was aware of a sudden mouthful of honey and did my own rapid swallowing.

Carrie scooted back a couple of inches, her gaping cunt settling against my collarbone, while Laura released my cock and made her way on hands on knees back around to where I could see her face. She looked just a little smug. There was a trickle of cum down her chin and she was licking her lips.

"That was great!" she said with a smile. "Coming in my mouth like that — it was so neat!" Laura apparently had decided it was time to talk.

"He made me come, too," Carrie put in. "I�m going to rub my pussy tonight until I come, and I�ll be thinking about you licking me the whole time!" She grinned at her older sister.

Laura reached back behind Carrie and wrapped her fingers around my deflating cock again. "We�re going to come over and do this again, you know, Tom." She looked at me speculatively. "In fact, . . . what would you think about fucking me? Or both of us?"

Carrie was idly stroking her clit just below my chin. "I don�t know if I�m ready for that, yet," she said. "It might hurt. But I�ll bet you could do it okay," she added with a glance at her sister. "You�re older. And I could watch, right? You wouldn�t mind if I watched you being fucked, would you?"

Laura shrugged. "I think it�s too late for that." She turned to me again. "Could we do that, Tom? Would you like to fuck me?"

God. Condoms. I was going to have to lay in lots and lots of condoms.

Copyright 2013 by Michael K. Smith. Copies may be made and posted elsewhere for personal enjoyment, but all commercial rights are reserved.