My View From The Pier - Sex Stories

My View From The Pier

... Patrol. Deputy Marlin was about 5' 9" tall and stripped, had to weigh 275 pounds. He was no one to deny. Marlin couldn't run fast; his value was he knew every teen in town, all their vital stats, including where they lived. To obey was not pleasant but to ignore such a warning was just damned stupid. "What?" said Charlie. "I'm gonna' ticket you for failing to police your fire pit area and not putting out the fire," said Deputy Marlin with his best, officious voice. "Fuck that, Marlin, you know we always clean up? I don't believe you," said Charlie to a red-faced Deputy. The next thing Charlie knew he had one hand cuffed and the other about to suffer the same fate. Deputy Swagg led Charlie across the seventy-five yards from the end of the pier to the fire pit area. Once there, Charlie observed a bonfire propelling flames into the night. Moreover, several bags of beer cans, weenie wrappers, dirty plates, and plastic shit of all descriptions littered the area. "Jesus Christ, Marlin, I didn't do this!" yelled Charlie right into Marlin's nearby ear. "You know me, I would never do this!” "Shut up, Charlie, I can hear. There's nobody here but us, the fireworks are just starting, and we're all alone. I can hear fine. Well, if you didn't leave it this way, who did?" Boom! Screech! Ka-Boom, Bam The fireworks prolog began to send sparkles, flame, and concussion waves through the night. Ohs! And Ahs! as predicted, rippled up and down the Zeus Beach Pier and all along the shore. All ...

... Charlie could think of was Ramona's dripping pussy waiting for him along the rail and here he was stuck in a frame-up. He looked more closely at the fire pit. 'Shit!' Some bastard had stacked kindling wood in best Boy Scout style in the middle of the concrete block ring to make the roaring campfire. The fire had been purposely set. There were scraps of paper on the ground. Charlie noticed one was a receipt for a credit card. He had caught it with his toe before the light breeze had a chance to lift it across the sandy area and send it into the scrub brush along the sand. "Marlin, who signed this thing?" he asked. "None of us used a credit card to buy our picnic stuff." Marlin waddled his thick frame over and looked down. "I dunno. Not my problem," he snorted. "It is your problem and mine too. Some son-of-a-bitch set me up, and I think I know who and why. Unlock me dammit, quick! He's gonna' go fuck Ramona!" hissed Charlie through his locked teeth. Marlin leaned his considerable bulk forward, teetered back and forth for a few seconds while gravity and body fat tussled. Finally with a heave and a gasp for breath he stood up with the offending scrap of paper in his hand. He looked at the receipt with his small, tactical flashlight. "It says 'Reynaldo Gomez' on it," said Marlin. "That miserable fucker! I'm gonna' kill him Marlin. He's been trying to get in Ramona's pants for two years. He's gone to the pier to fuck her, and she'll think it's me in the dark!" Bam, Boom, KaBoom, Whee, ...