Friday, June 7.

Memorial Day had come and gone and summer went into full swing along the coast. Kids were freed from school and beaches filled up with people, traffic, noise and chaos. Linda Anderson, as was her habit this time of year, managed to back away from a stressful job as a senior legal secretary to take her son Billy and kid sister Sarah to the small coastal village of Port Edmund for a four-day weekend. This family tradition dated back longer than anyone could remember, even before Linda was born. Even before her parents and grandparents were born. For the widowed mother, the outing allowed family time away from the usual work and school drudgery. It presented the perfect diversion and a chance for everyone to relax and reconnect, far from the trenches of daily living. 

Billy, or William, Jr., which nobody called him, turned sixteen a few weeks prior and had discovered girls. He had already been out on several dates and perhaps had a steady girlfriend, all under the watchful eye of his doting mom. In the past year, his lanky, boyish physique had started to firm up. His body was quickly developing into that of an adult, although his heart and mind remained those of a youngster. Still, he was reasonably bright and happy, although the challenges of adolescence and young adulthood had created the usual friction between him and his mother. All in all, Linda was proud of her boy. He had a good soul, was respectful of his mother and minded her, for the most part. He was still unsettled as to what he would do after graduating from high school. Recently, it was a tossup between community college or trade school. Linda hoped he would earn a scholarship, but Billy didn’t take enough interest in his studies to merit any accolades in spite of her constant badgering.

He’s a good kid, Linda would think to herself. But, god help me, he’s just not the brightest crayon in the box, or the most motivated. If I can just get him some sort of degree or certificate so he can make a decent living someday.

Then came Linda’s kid sister. Sarah Trilby was, in contrast, a bright, inquisitive and somewhat cynical youth with a penchant for outspokenness and sarcasm. All of nineteen years Linda’s junior, she had graduated early from high school the previous year with honors. Sarah’s pathway to higher education was ensured, in contrast to her nephew, with the scholarships she earned. She just needed to take the next step forward. Always precocious, she decided to take some time off before college to, as many young people were saying in those days, “find herself.” 

Linda, a hard-working single mother, became a widow shortly after Billy was born. A drunk driver took the life of William, Sr., her first and only love, leaving her devastated, without a husband, lover and confidante, plus a father for her son. That was sixteen years ago, and although she dated on and off, nobody could ever take the place of her soul mate. Still, she was a human being with needs. Most nights she had to masturbate herself to completion, sometimes more than once, to fall asleep after a hard day of work and mothering.

That particular Friday morning in early June, Linda piloted her old Mercury station wagon down a rural two-lane road, the only access to the coast, with Billy and Sarah in tow. Traffic could be heavy at times due to the usual beach crowd and Linda wondered why they hadn’t improved the potholed, shoulderless stretch of pale asphalt that dared to call itself State Highway 69.

State highway, my ass. Talk about delusions of grandeur.

Linda didn’t see the pothole that smacked her right front tire, sending a resounding ‘thump’ through the vehicle’s frame followed by the agitated squeaking of metal against metal. The beast faltered slightly, wavering from its path. 

“Shit,” she said, gripping the steering wheel. “Sorry guys.”

I’ll probably need a front-end alignment when we get back home if I don’t get a flat tire first!

The only good thing about potholes for Linda were the shocks they sent through her body, namely her neglected pussy. She squirmed somewhat, in spite of her annoyance, feeling the blood surge to her lady parts. Her two passengers remained silent, oblivious. Billy sat in the back, a little transistor radio pressed to his ear as he watched the scenery amble past. Sarah rode shotgun with her older sister, legs curled up, engrossed in a lurid paperback romance novel.  As the throbbing subsided, Linda glanced over to the lithe blonde. 

“My god, I’ll never understand how you can read in a moving vehicle without getting nauseated.”       

“It doesn’t bother me. I’m fine.” She didn’t even look up from her page. “Sounds like your problem, Sis.” A smirk crossed her mouth. 

Linda reached over and slapped her kid sister’s thigh playfully. “You brat!” she said with an unconvincing voice, keeping her eyes on the road. Her hand lingered on Sarah’s soft, warm flesh, giving it a loving squeeze. Her voice returned to normal. “I’m glad you chose to come with us this year. I know how independent you’re getting.”

Sarah grunted, having returned to the trashy, lusty world of her romance novel. Linda took a few seconds to gaze at Sarah’s profile, then down to her hand, still on her sister’s thigh.

I can’t believe how the years have flown by. Dare I say my sister’s all grown up, a woman.

Still, Linda didn’t approve of her sister’s attire that day, or most days since the chill of late spring gave way to balmy, then downright warm, sunny days. Sarah wore familiar attire - a tiny pair of shorts and snug tank top. Underneath was a hint of a bra, which Linda insisted she wear if she was going to come along on the trip, both for the sake of her almost-adult son and any strange men who might take interest.

I’m afraid she wouldn’t be any competition for the buxom beach bunnies we’re going to see, but she might attract a few weirdos.

Sarah’s idea of clothing would’ve been unacceptable for a more endowed woman.  However, for the most part, her body didn’t challenge the attire she donned, with her long, slender legs and small breasts. Although she was pretty, her body more resembled a boy’s than a girl’s.

The pregnancy was an accident, as there was no plan for another child. Their mother had almost died giving birth to Linda some seventeen years prior, and the mere fact doctors detected another pregnancy came as a shock. Although they could have aborted the fetus, Mom was a trooper and refused to extinguish a new life, even if carrying it to term meant losing her own. Mom got her wish.

Sarah was barely able to live outside the womb at first, and the doctors didn’t expect her to survive, but to everyone’s surprise, she clung to life. For months, she needed round the clock care but, in time, the tiny infant improved.

Their father, now a widower, had no choice but to take an extra job to pay off the mountain of medical bills that had accrued. Linda, by that time, had graduated from high school and took a clerical job to help support the family. The following year, she married, and both she and her new husband William made sure the bills were paid and the family remained solid.

Now back to the present.

Sarah had been dating for a couple of years and, although Linda was not technically her mother, she had fallen into the role shortly after her sister’s birth. Linda watched Sarah’s activities with an eagle eye, even insisting on having the “Birds and Bees” talk with her.

“Oh, Jesus, Sis,” Sarah rolled her piercing blue eyes. “I know all about that.  I’m not going to let some guy get me pregnant and ruin my life.”

Linda pondered that conversation from time to time. In hindsight, it seemed her kid sister knew more about the ways of the world than she.

Fine by me. I must accept that she’s an adult now and will do adult things, damn it all.

Still, the mere thought of Sarah getting into any sexual activity with a strange boy her age or, god forbid, a grown man, made her head shake involuntarily with worry.

“Here we are, kids.” Linda announced their arrival in Port Edmund. A time-worn metal sign sporting a rusted bullet hole and a few streaks of birdshit announced “Population 345”. Of course, that was in the off-season. During the summer it was five times that much, easily, and probably more. All of the dingy mom and pop motels and motor courts that lie vacant for months were suddenly filled to capacity. Fleas and bedbugs abounded.

Sarah looked up from her book, grimacing as Linda slowly piloted the Mercury down Main Street. “Holy shit, what an obscene amount of people!” She tucked her book away in the glove compartment and sat upright to better survey her surroundings. “Yecch.” She put on her sunglasses as if to shield herself from the unpleasant vision.

 “Ah, the usual hoi polloi, sweetheart,” Linda replied facetiously, her forehead, neck and chest starting to glisten. A pleasant breeze had accompanied them as the station wagon moved down the highway, before they were forced to slow down, but now, at a turtle’s pace, the heat began to set in. She had thought ahead and wore a short skirt and minimal top with spaghetti straps, revealing a considerable amount of pale, freckled skin. She had also taken the liberty of spreading thick, white beach towels on the Mercury’s vinyl seats to keep everyone from sticking to them.

Nothing like getting out of the car after a long, hot drive and ripping the flesh from the backs of my thighs!

She didn’t believe, at age thirty-six, anyone would give her a second glance, even with the skimpy attire. True, she was no beauty queen. Hard work, child rearing and the passage of time had etched a few furrows in her brow, wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, and numerous grey strands streaked her brown locks. Her D-cup breasts drooped a bit, nipples thick and erect most of the time, the result of breastfeeding plus years of abuse while pleasuring herself on those countless lonely nights.           

Linda’s eyes darted from side to side as she observed the sea of humanity surrounding her.  Everyone was milling about without a care, exposing their imperfect bodies, pot bellies, sagging breasts and stretch marks, near-naked in some instances.

I doubt a matronly old cow like me would cause much of a stir.

Linda didn’t think of herself as any better than the crowd, or not that much better. She kept close watch as the vehicle crept along through the churning sea of oiled flesh, careful not to run over anyone oblivious to the striped, paved road under their feet.

“I’m glad our old place is far away from this madness. Otherwise, I wouldn’t bother.”

“Our family estate,” Sarah said with a hint of mockery. 

“It’s not much, honey,” Linda replied, “but it’s better than mixing it with this bunch.” She eyed a group of hunky, almost-naked Neanderthals packed together by a ramshackle burger stand off to the right and noticed Sarah had as well. Immediately, Linda spoke up.

“Oh, Jesus, Sarah, don’t even think about it,” she said, although the thought of one or more of them ravishing her against her will flashed through her mind. A man hadn’t been between her thighs in years, and what orgasms she’d experienced recently came from her own hand and, a few times, a convenient doorknob or bedpost.

Christ, those guys look like they’re full of come and would never stop.

“It doesn’t hurt to look, Sis.” Sarah lifted her sunglasses, turning her head as they disappeared into the rear view mirror. “I am an adult now.”

“Yes, yes, you keep telling me that, but are you ready for what comes with being all grown up is what I’m worried about.” Linda wriggled her ass against the towel again, her pussy clenching and throbbing involuntarily, surprised at how her body reacted to the sight of those musclebound boys.

Goddamn!

“Oh, relax.” Sarah turned back to her sister, the hunks having vanished into the distance. “I know about the birds and bees. You told me all about them, remember?” The sarcasm had returned.  Linda huffed.

What a smartass.

“Well, at least there’s that.” She replied with equal snark. Linda wondered if her sweet, little kid sister was still a virgin, but she would never breach the topic with Sarah. There were times she couldn’t help but envision, herself plagued by the constant need for a good fucking, the naked young woman being mounted by some virile stud, his buttocks tensing repeatedly as Sarah drew her legs up, whimpering as she was impaled by his massive cock. Other times, she envisioned Sarah being passed around a group of naked, granite-chested men, cocks all huge and jutting.  Her kid sister surrendered to the ravishment, her body being tossed around brusquely like a rag doll.

God, I need some good, hard cock so desperately, I’m now fantasizing vicariously through Sarah! Heaven help me, I’m such a horny freak.

These thoughts only came about in the past few months. She could blame springtime, when the sap started to flow, and she was insanely horny. Linda blushed with shame and arousal as she tried to fight off the vision, but it kept returning, much to her dismay. She knew the fantasies were what she wanted for herself, but for some reason, sister Sarah became the recipient.

Linda tried to ignore the moist fire smoldering in her pussy, diverting her thoughts back to driving and one particular middle-aged woman in an old-fashioned one-piece flowered swimsuit who stood in the middle of the road, just beyond the Mercury’s hood ornament, mouth agape. The woman seemed transfixed by something on the horizon. Linda huffed, tilting her head to the side, eyes glaring from behind her big Jackie-O sunglasses.

What the hell?

Linda briefly pressed on the chrome horn ring, letting a throaty, two-tone blast escape from behind the car’s grille.

Anytime, honey.

The rubbernecking woman, seemingly oblivious to the loud noise only a few feet away, looked everywhere but Linda’s car, scratched her butt, then waddled away.

About fucking time.

The tires started rolling again, emitting a low crunch from a scattering of errant stones on the asphalt.

As Sarah’s virtual mother, Linda’s maternal quest was to make certain her kid sister stayed out of trouble and, although she couldn’t monitor her constantly, she was going to make damn sure Sarah enrolled in the local community college that fall before she got too lost in finding herself. Or into a bad crowd. Or, god forbid, with an unwanted pregnancy. Right now, she just wanted one peaceful weekend of sun, beach and sparkling sea with her son and sister. 

The old family house was a weather-beaten two-story structure, on a small parcel of beachfront property, situated atop a brownish-green hillock. White lead paint flaked from the wood, exposing occasional spots of speckled grey. A minor landmark for locals, it overlooked a clean, wide stretch of sand punctuated on one side by a huge outcropping of jagged rocks. Day and night, waves pounded against the craggy mound. 

Linda’s father hated the noise, which was another reason he often passed on family sojourns to the beach, but Linda didn’t mind. As a child, the regular crashing of water against the black rocks was like the ticking of a clock to her, dependable, also soothing and strangely peaceful.  As she grew into adulthood, the sound became more like the rhythm of a lover’s body. The constant noise of the waves served as a stimulant on those many nights she spent in the master bedroom, alone, masturbating herself through orgasm after orgasm.

The property was part of a once-vast spread, which had been in the family since Linda’s great-great grandfather purchased it from local natives for a handful of prized horses and cattle.  Most of the land was sold off as years passed, bit-by-bit, until only a few acres remained. Linda liked the fact that the beach house was miles from town, far enough to get away from most of the madding crowds.

“Here we are!” She announced, brakes squeaking as she stopped the station wagon. Linda stepped out of the vehicle to open the gate to the property. Immediately, the crashing sound of the waves, absent of the cacophony of the crowded town, enveloped her, forcing an involuntary response in her body.  

Oh, sweet mercy. Here we go again.

Her already-damp pussy swelled as her nipples grew erect. It was like returning home to an old, faithful lover. Still, she hid her arousal, a skill Linda had picked up over the years.

Goddamn, how many hours before I can be alone and get myself off?

The rusty old gate with an uncooperative padlock guarded two tire ruts up to the nineteenth-century clapboard structure. The idea that the gate and surrounding remnants of an ancient wrought-iron fence would keep anyone off the property had been a family joke for as long as Linda could remember. Still, she went through the yearly ritual of freeing the padlock so they could pull the Mercury up to the front porch.

“Son of a bitch,” Linda hissed under her breath as she struggled with the lock, also frustrated with the throbbing wetness between her legs. By now, it was after noon, the sun was high in the sky, and her body was coated with sweat. She promised herself last year, and the year before that, she would bring a shiny new modern lock. Again, she failed.

“Why do you mess around with a padlock, anyway?” Sarah called from the station wagon. “It’s pretty pointless.”

“Keeping up a family tradition,” Linda shouted back, eyes focused on the lock. “In other words, I have no idea.” With a sharp jerk, she forced the Victorian-era beast to release its hold.

About goddamn time!

Acrid drops of sweat stung her eyes as she reared back and threw the glob of...