Ch. 13 – Geri Has A Fetish

Chapter 13:

Geri Has a Fisting Fetish

Back on the boat I quickly poured a generous tumbler of scotch even though it was just mid-afternoon. I was confused, disturbed, intrigued, dumbfounded – all at the same time. I needed to sort out what had just happened with Joan. The picture of her gorgeous face as I was fucking her sweet pussy was burned into my memory forever. And the images I conjured of her pastor fucking her ass and sliding his long cock in the mouth of that beautiful face just wouldn’t leave me alone. My dick was now hard, and I realized that although I had fucked all her holes long and hard, I still had that urge to cum again. I took a big gulp of my drink and pulled out my best friend.

As I closed my eyes and began stroking him, I fantasized about being her pastor – rough fucking her swollen cunt, shooting my load into her mouth, having her long arms reach through and cradle my balls as I fucked her ass doggy style. My mind created the pastor’s office, with Joan bent over, taking it in both lower holes; created the choir room and imagined how the pastor had her sit and service his cock; I fantasized that it was me, with the pastor’s long dick, getting to slide all of it in Joan’s holes. Her phenomenal beauty was like an icon, etched in my memory. It didn’t take long for me to shoot a load up on my belly as I lay there.

Satisfied once again, I slugged down my drink and poured another. I needed to get drunk to escape the mental torture Joan had put me through. I needed a diversion. Pulled out my list of names. I was now down to the last name on the list: Sandy. Dialed her up and got VM. Left my name & number and why I was calling. Hung up and swigged my drink; the alcohol was starting to work, blurring my memory. Within moments my phone rang. “Hi. This is Sandy, returning your call. I screen my calls, that’s why I didn’t pick up.” We chatted for a few minutes. She sounded really sweet. We arranged to meet onshore at 10 the next morning.

With the evening free, I decided to visit the bar I had seen down the road. Onshore, I walked the two blocks to the pub, downing a beer and smoking a joint on the way. The bar was typical backwoods Florida, pool table, deer antler mounts, a few neon signs. It was dark inside but I found an empty stool at the bar. A young college-aged dude served me as I surveyed the crowd. Half full of rednecks playing pool or huddled around a table covered in empty beer bottles. A third full of hussy blondes, tiny blue jean skirts, racks busting out of too tight tops. Some were made up pretty well as I watched them work the guys for their next drink. One of them flirted with guy, bent low to show her tits as a distraction, and took some money off his table. She sashayed over to the jukebox and chose an upbeat country song. As it played, she twirled and danced for the guy she was flirting with. Pretty obvious that he was getting some pussy tonight!

Shortly, two tramps came in, looked around, and approached the bar to order. They were standing right next to me. “Hey, Bob. Two double tequila’s” as she slapped a twenty on the bar.