My View From The Pier - Sex Stories

My View From The Pier

... something to be celebrated. Ramona, however, suggested that a gift might be a dumb idea, second only a 'Welcome to Menopause' greeting card. The tradition of the young celebrants had always been to pack their picnic things into the cars after the beach fire and then hike up to the pier. The structure was one of those west coast appendages that stuck out into the Pacific a quarter of a mile. It was made of stout boards standing on massive wooden pilings rammed into the sea bottom. Fireworks would be displayed from a barge anchored off shore about one-hundred yards north of the pier. The pier always smelled of dead fish bait, creosote from the pilings, cigarette and cigar smoke and other assorted odors, some that ought not to be mentioned in polite company. In order to gain maximum effect of the exploding rockets, star shells, pinwheels and various other garnishes that would light the western sky, the dock lights were always turned out. Thus, the lineup along the rail was the perfect place for frisky young co-eds in their beach wraps to fool around with boyfriends whose cocks were in a state of constant stiffness. More than one cherry got lost in a stand-up fuck along that rail. In fact, at Zeus Beach, it was not the coronation of king and queen at the fall prom that signaled cherry-popping of the first order. Rather, in the vernacular of the locals, it was to get 'railed' on the pier on July 4th. Most of the college-age girls in attendance this night had been 'popped' just ...

... that way. Charlie had pierced Ramona's cherry at the start of their junior year in high school and meant to keep up the tradition for them so long as they lived in Zeus Beach. They weren't alone. The plan tonight was to have six or seven couples from the gang get lined up along the rail. They would time their sex acts so, at the height of the explosions, a lot of other 'explosions' took place simultaneously. Of course, this close synchronization of human lust required timing almost as close as that of a rocket launch to the moon. Zeus Beach was a very traditional, staid old community and public nudity or sex acts were policed strictly. On this one night of the year though, the cops were assigned crowd control on the beach and told to forget the 'railing.' Many of them with teenage daughters were quite happy to avoid the rail bunch because they might run into an offspring of theirs being launched into womanhood with fireworks accompaniments. The pier had existed for 75 years in one form or another. The tradition of first a first fucking now reached back three generations. Mothers couldn't get too upset about it since it hadn't been too many years since they had been deflowered, in the same way, in the same place. And grandmothers before them, if truth was revealed. Plenty of senior citizens lined up at the midpoint of the pier to watch intently to the west, trying to pick up any lewd acts. Hearing aids were set too high also. The problem, of course, was the exploding fireworks. ...