Young Female Flesh Marinated in Fish Juice & Old Men's Amusement for Father's Day
Log entry in ‘My Forbidden Sex Diary: Pink Nails & Silver Gods.’
This post is intended as entertainment only for mature audiences. Reader discretion advised. Please simply & kindly skip it if it offends you. And before you panic and call the incest police… It was my friend’s father, not my dad. Thank you so much! Hugs!
I write erotica novels & short stories. I also publish handbooks on how to train us, young women, for sex and share my sex confessions as a spermivore, spermaholic, and submissive teen (18+) slut. Yes, a slut! And I’m proud of it! Sex is good, and girls who love sex shouldn’t have to hide and pretend to be “pure.” Sex is pure! And naked skin is natural. #FreeTheNipple #FreeThePussy
Dear Journal,
Let me share the second part of the deep-sea fishing trip of three years ago on Father's Day weekend, when the creative mind of my best friend’s father started working overtime.
The afternoon sun was beating down mercilessly on my naked young skin when Harlan suddenly straightened in his fishing chair, his weathered face lighting up with the kind of expression that usually meant trouble for whichever young female happened to be within reach. His piercing blue eyes fixed on me with that predatory gleam I'd learned to recognize in older men who were about to use my willing young body for their entertainment.
"I've got an idea." His gravelly voice carried across the boat's deck, causing the other three men to look up from their mostly ignored fishing lines.
My bare nipples hardened immediately at the anticipation in his tone. After hours of servicing Gus's disgusting unwashed cock, pacing for Eamon's voyeuristic pleasure, and standing motionless while Emerson's expensive hands explored every inch of my nude young flesh, I was ready for whatever creative degradation Harlan's mind had conjured.
"Come here, little slut." He patted the oversized fishing chair at the boat's stern, the kind with a harness designed for fighting massive deep-sea monsters. "I want to try something."
I moved toward him obediently, my young tits bouncing with each step across the deck while four pairs of hungry old eyes tracked my movement. The fishing chair was positioned perfectly at the boat's transom, facing the open ocean where their lines disappeared into the deep blue water.
Harlan's hands guided me into the chair, but not in any normal sitting position. Instead, he had me slide my firm young ass to the very edge of the seat, then lean back until my blonde head nearly touched the deck behind the chair. My toned legs had to bend and spread wide, with my bare feet planted against the boat's side rails for leverage.
The position forced my smooth pink pussy to point skyward at an obscene angle, completely exposed and accessible while my young tits flattened against my chest from the inverted posture. Blood rushed to my head as I struggled to maintain the awkward position, my naked young body stretched and displayed like some kind of living fishing equipment.
"Perfect." Harlan's approval rumbled through his chest as he admired the view of my splayed young cunt. "Now hold still."
The Defective Rod Holder (A Blonde's Slippery Purpose)
He reached for one of the fishing rods from its holder - an expensive deep-sea rig with a thick fiberglass handle designed for battling hundred-pound fish. The rod was easily five feet long, the handle section about eight inches of smooth, tapered grip wrapped in cork.
My wet little pussy clenched with anticipation as I realized what he intended. The other men had abandoned their own fishing entirely, gathering around to watch Harlan's latest creative use of their shared toy.
"Jesus Christ." Gus's gravelly voice held pure admiration. "You're gonna use her cunt as a rod holder?"