Eileen was aghast. 'Your father? He's not like that, he's an important man. He wouldn't have anything to do with a young girl like me.'
Teresa grinned. 'The hell he won't. I've seen him when you're over visiting me. He keeps a good eye on you, believe me. You turn him on.'
'No… '
While nodding her head, Teresa said, 'Yes.'
Johnny Carvel wasn't feeling too great. It wasn't every day he got dumped for a young kid. It used to be he moved in on the territories of the older guys and nailed their women. But now he had to face it, he was thirty-four and each year the competition would get stiffer.
Stiffer. He smirked. That was the word, all right. Not that he had lost any of his own hardness or talent but it was an uphill fight. The ladies his age and slightly older seemed to demand more and more each year while they turned him on less and less. What Johnny had to admit was he wanted the fresh young stuff as much as the ladies did.
That was it. A nice, tight young cunt to really make him feel like a kid himself. The only problem was that the young girls never had money and usually expected to be shown a good time. That cost him money. The older women had money and with the proper approach never hesitated to spend it on him. He liked that almost as much as fucking them, having them spend their old man's hard-earned bucks on him.
He was wiping down the bar for the hundredth time that afternoon when he lifted his face and saw the tits. Gems, the nicest set of tits in the whole country club. Teresa Cunningham's tits stretching against that ridiculous excuse for a swimsuit.
He looked all the way up to her face. She smiled. He smiled back. 'What can I do for you, Teresa?' Johnny asked.
'I'd like a Tom Collins,' she said.
Johnny's eyebrow lifted. 'You trying to get me fired? You can't be in this bar, let alone have a drink, until you're twenty-one.'
'A Tom Collins, please,' she said.
'You have to be old enough, Teresa,' he repeated. Then he added, 'I'm sorry.'
'I'm old enough to do a lot of things, Johnny. And drinking is just one of them.'
Johnny liked the direction of her conversation. He also liked the husky sound of her voice. She had never acted like this with him before. He was interested. The bar was empty, so he mixed a Tom Collins, dropped a cherry in it and placed it on the bar between them.
Teresa reached for the drink but Johnny grabbed her wrist. 'Like I said, if I give you this drink I'm putting my job on the line. And before I do that I want to know what else you think you're old enough to do.'
He was leaning close and smiling. Teresa swallowed, smiled back and drew up her courage. 'I'm old enough to give you what you want,' she whispered.
But Johnny wasn't satisfied, he wanted to hear the exact words. 'And what is that?'
'You know,' she smiled and winked.
'Say it. Tell me exactly what you'll do if I give you this drink.'
Teresa's cheeks were flushed. She blinked. 'I'll fuck you,' she stated.
Johnny felt the head of his cock swell in his pants as she said it. He liked that. He loved to hear a woman use the coarse vernacular. And he loved to use it himself.
'What makes you think you can handle me? I might break your sweet little cunt with my big prick,' he said.
'If that happens I'll use my mouth,' Teresa answered.
Johnny swallowed. She was serious, absolutely serious. He had received some pretty direct propositions in his years behind the bar but they usually came from some desperate broad who was either drunk or unappetizing. This was the first time a real dish, a young plum who could have her choice of guys, ever popped the suggestion.
Johnny released Teresa's wrist and pushed the drink at her. 'There's a stockroom right behind me. Pick up the drink and take it in there. I'll be there in a couple of minutes to see if you're all talk,' he said.
Teresa picked up the drink and slid from her barstool. As she moved behind the bar and went through the door to the small room lined with cases of liquor she said, 'I can't talk with my mouth full.'
Johnny nervously wiped down the bar again. The pool area had two people in it, both lounging half-asleep in the sun. They hadn't ordered a drink all day and he doubted if they'd want to start now. Alan was slumped in his lifeguard stand and looked just as oblivious as the sun-bathers. Grace Cunningham had been in her office earlier but left to go home and prepare for the dance tonight. Everything would be dead for at least a couple of hours.
He dropped his bar towel onto the floor. Even if someone did want a drink they'd call out. He could just step out of the stockroom, take care of them and go back. He went to the door, turned the knob and quickly disappeared inside.
She was totally nude. Standing there against the cardboard cases along the far wall without a thing on. Johnny pushed the door shut and pressed the lock on the knob. His breath felt like a loaf of bread in his throat. She was the image of her mother with everything tighter, higher, swollen with the vibrancy of youth.
Teresa inhaled a deep breath until her bare breasts lifted up high and out. Her round, pink nipples stared at Johnny like two amazed eyes. The soft flesh of her breasts thrust at him like solid, pointed melons. He realized his cock was jamming forcefully upward in his pants.
She held out the glass, the liquid was gone, all that remained were two ice cubes and the red maraschino cherry. 'Delicious,' she said.
His eyes took in the furry mound above the red lips of her tight-looking pussy and flawless thighs. 'I'll say,' he remarked.
Teresa sat down on one of the liquor cases and spread her legs wide apart. The gleaming tissues of her cunt opened up to invite Johnny home. He quickly unbuckled his belt and opened his pants. She watched closely as he dropped the pants to his knees, kept an eye on the sizable bulge straining in his white jockey shorts.
Teresa gulped with anticipation as he lowered the shorts and let his long, red stick slide out. It was a beautiful cock with a wide, flared glans and thick, powerful shaft. Johnny's jet-black hair was piled around the base and ran like a dark shadow up under his shirt. His balls hung low and were also covered with the abundant hair.
As Johnny moved closer Teresa reached into the glass and withdrew the cherry. She held it between her thumb and index finger while lowering it down to her crotch. Johnny stopped moving and stared as she slipped the little fruit between the lips of her cunt and shoved it deep inside with one finger.
'Now you can say you got my cherry,' she remarked.
Johnny loved it. Her crudeness, her lack of childish play and foolishness was making his cock pound. He dropped to his knees and buried his face into the warm, soft, hugging comfort of her thighs. Teresa lay back and felt his tongue reach up into her hole for the cherry.
She smiled. He was going to be great. His tongue was really doing a dance inside her. She could feel him lapping the moisture from each wall, sucking at her juicy lips, digging against her clitoris, driving the heat in her guts to a steaming pitch.
Johnny had never tasted a sweeter, fresher cunt in all his life. The muscular box was shivering around his tongue, going crazy as soon as he got it in there. She was an easy, quick turn-on and he liked that. He hated to have to kill himself getting a woman worked up and panting before he could slam his cock to her; he liked the instant type, the ones who creamed up just at the sight of his tool.
The cherry rolled down to his lips and he sucked it inside his mouth. Then he pulled away from the shaking cunt and kissed his way up Teresa's flat belly to the mountains of tit. They met his face to envelop it in softness. He kissed each nipple and gave it a wet suck until they stood up hard like two petrified rosebuds.
His mouth left the breasts and moved to hers. Teresa met his lips and dashed her tongue hungrily against his. He was a man, a real man, mature, worldly, passionate. Her heart was throbbing rapidly as she felt his tongue unroll and press the cherry into her mouth.
