Gidget Surfs Up At Bikini Beach
- 3 years ago
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“OK guys ready?” Bob. “Up for this, lets show the bitches.”
The mammoth black man got a thumbs up from Ted and Gary, who for one last moment checked around. The car park was empty apart from their Toyota pick up and several large vehicles, which they had cased and discounted.
“It’s taken a long time, but yeah come on lets do it ... whatever wet get ... bitches,” snarled Gary, his cock already at half mast under his training shorts.
The three local men sprinted to the clubhouse and through the main entrance, knowing all staff but one had left after the big match that afternoon and old deaf as a post Arthur Scrimmage was busy cleaning the seated areas.
They sauntered along a corridor.
“One left. Course we don’t know who is left in there but she’ll get it and good ... fucking show them,” snickered Ted. “Hope it’s Tuhunglo ... oh yes!” he gave an lower arm crude salute, thinking of a half Siamese girl with surprisingly big tits...
“Well don’t get your hopes up mate, could be anyone, but they are all a bit tasty ... well most of them,” chuckled Bob.
They neared the female facilities and Bob hushed his little gang with fingers to his lips. They were fingers like hammer handles, massive, long and thick with knuckles like walnuts, scarred and dirty nailed, to fit with his burly six foot seven chunky dirty T shirt clad frame. His fists were like Christmas turkeys - such a size, his forearms battered and sculpted
They crept in silently, trainers quiet on the tiled floor, entering a still steamed up changing area, with many empty hangers apart from one set laden with clothing, other soft stuff on the bench below and a pair of small red flat pumps beneath. Ted raided a small personal bag and found an ID card with a photograph sealed on it. He grabbed a tiny crumple of cotton, stuffed amongst a pair of Levis, which he could see was a thong and pocketed it. Two other hanging pegs across the area sported a towel in one case and another with some forgotten garment. A shower spray made the only noise and the occasional high pitched note of a girl singing.
Bob told Gary to jam the door with a stool and the three walked through the half open door into the shower spaces.
There were eight shower spaces, parted only with a perspex screen between, all with water shut off, but most dripping and one full on with a nubile, dirty blonde, naked body humming and very active, bending over shaving her lower legs, displaying the rear view of her crotch as the three men approached,. Her shapely, sturdy legs were wide apart and the view of the shaved cunt and arsehole was outstanding, until Gary noticed something.
“Oh ho! she’s on the blob.” he whispered, pointing at the delicate white string dangling from the girl’s cunt.
“Don’t bother me” said Bob.
“Nor me,” smirked Ted. “Being an arse bandit,” he snickered. Their uncouth mirth drowned by the shower sound.
“Let me pull it out, you gag her,” whispered Gary to Bob, getting a thumbs up.
For a few moments, creeping closer, they leered and ogled the young girl doing her ablutions. She was athletic build but shapely, with everything where it should be but not overdone or short measured. She was very white and untanned, her hair clinging to mid way down her back. Bob stepped forward to one side letting Gary sneak in and swiftly jammed his hand up her crotch, grabbing her tampon string and wrenching it out. A pink pancake size fist closed over the tiny squeak that she meant to screech in shock, until she subsided limp in the massive black’s arms.
Bob dragged her out away from the shower and laid her on the floor. Her body glistened in the wet, still a bit soapy in a few places. They ignored the tiny light mauve Gilette lady razor she had dropped.
“Fucking great knockers,” Ted leered, flicking her stubby pale pink nipples. “Like that too, cute isn’t it?” pointing at the teen’s trimmed but shaped pubic hair. A straight line pointed from the top dead centre of her bush to her slit. “What’s it called... ?”
“A cunt you arsehole,” sniggered Bob.
“Nah! That “ argued Ted, flicking the fair but thick hair arrow.
“Some fucking Brazilian or something, me first guys, “ chortled Bob pushing down his jeans ... then kneeling next to her. “My idea.” His black cock hung over his underpants, thick and long like one of the gymnasium ropes he would exercise on. Ted blinked at it’s magnificence.
“She’s Dawn Ramsay, from Dagenham,” announced Ted, reading the ID card. “Doesn’t say her age ... oh yes, still a teenager,” he chuckled, as Bob shoved his pink dick head into her partly shaven twat. “Fuck! ... bet that hurt,” Ted snickered at his black mate’s particularly energetic shunt into her following the first penetration.
“We fucking know ... uuurgh! ... it’s Dagenham ... er ... you knob head,” grunted Bob steadily shafting the girl. “Does it smell Gary?”
“Nah! A bit I s’pose. It’s not a full dose, maybe start or finish,” he answered, dangling the tampon, examining the half bloodied white body of the cunt bung which had swollen to about an inch wide.
“Yeah Dagenham Girls Academy,” stated Gary, putting the tampon in his pocket for later. “You got a blindfold ready mate?”
“Yee ... esssssss in my ... er ... pocket,” stammered Bob, levered up on his massive tree trunk like arms, toned by years of gym work outs and a lifetime work as hod carrier for a team of bricklayers.
“Nice one Bob,” snickered Ted, finding an oily rag in Bob’s denims. “We’ll show the fuckers ... Academy football team cheerleaders? What about leading cheers for us you cow?” he knelt down and shouted at Dawn.
Lianne
- 17.06.2020
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