B A B Bare Ass Beach Pt 02

B.A.B. - (Bare Ass Beach) - Part 02

By: RoperTrace

PROLOGUE

In the first chapter, Tom, a recent high school grad, and his girlfriend, Faye were having problems over a report that a voluptuous classmate, Bonnie was spotted sitting on his lap earlier that summer. Tom thought things were smoothed over with Faye, until Bonnie waved at them while passing through their local drive-in restaurant. Faye asked to be taken home, and Tom decided to take a night swim in their local quarry. His favorite cousin, Becky, happened to drive by and went along for a swim in the nude. She helped him forget his troubles that evening.

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The evening when my cousin Becky and I had gone for a swim at Bare Ass Beach, had occurred a couple weeks ago. I almost overslept the next morning after that night-swim. I barely made it to my job at the stone quarry at seven the next morning. Another ten hours, swinging a sledgehammer, and operating a huge hydraulic press that cut limestone into chunks suitable for a stone mason.

Since then, things between Faye and I had cooled down somewhat after we quarreled about the 'Bonnie' incident. We mostly talked on the phone, or a few times sitting on her porch, but she had kept me at arm's length and kept saying things about how I would forget her when I went to the university in the coming fall.

In the meantime, I'd talked to the guys at the quarry about our situation, since they were mostly my age, or a few years older. Guys, our age will always counsel each other on how to "handle" their girlfriends, should problems arise. The advice was usually wrong, since most of them were having similar problems as well.

When another Friday had arrived, I was thankful when the whistle blew at five-thirty, and I walked over to my metallic blue, '57 Ford Fairlane for the drive home. The five hours overtime on Saturday morning had been canceled since we were ahead of schedule on our stone cutting.

I drove home with the windows wide-open, and the AM radio blaring 'Born to Be Wild'. The drive took about thirty minutes to our little town. Faye's parents' house was right on the way home, and I turned onto the street next to her backyard. I slowed and parked the Ford when I saw Faye sunning herself on the deck at their above ground pool. She had gotten off work as a clerk typist at the Indiantown Gap Military Reservation at four.

I got out of my car, and walked over to where she was reclining on a chaise lounge. Faye was wearing a new, bronze-colored, bikini that was considerably smaller than the pink two-piece suit she normally wore. The bronze fabric shimmered in the sun over her ample boobs.

"How's the water?"

"I haven't been in yet," Faye answered coolly.

"Maybe I'll join you then."

"Uh, no. You're filthy from the quarry."

Working ten hours a day in a quarry, where you sweated and were caked in dust would probably cause something like an oil slick, had I jumped into the pool. I was only teasing her anyway.

Faye casually pulled the strings down off her shoulders of her bikini and rolled the cups down a little further to get more sun on her ample boobs while I gazed at her cleavage. I could see the suntan lotion glistening on the swell of her beautiful breasts. I was admiring her long legs on her five-foot eight frame as she reclined on the lounge.

She had her legs parted slightly to allow the sun to tan her inner thighs. She was somewhat obsessive about getting the same amount of tan on all her exposed skin. She looked at me through her large sunglasses with a hint of a smile on her face. She knew the effect her tan body had on me; she had my number, so to speak. I felt a little like she was taunting me with that small bikini. When did she buy that?

"What are you looking at?"

"Uh, just admiring your tan, Faye."

"So,.. tell me Tom,...... are Bonnie's boobs bigger than mine?" she asked and looked me squarely in the eyes, while lowering her sunglasses.

"Aw, c'mon Faye, that's not fair," I protested.

To be honest, it was probably a toss-up, but Faye was slimmer than Bonnie and that enhanced her size. Although earlier in the summer, Bonnie's large boobs were practically in my face, when she was spotted sitting on my lap on her front porch. Faye's cousin, Jane, had driven by at the worst possible time. Faye's on the other hand; I was familiar with their size, and feel, but always through her clothing. Although that familiarity with her boobs seemed to be currently on vacation.

So, it didn't look good for us doing anything later that evening after that exchange. I was just tired of playing this game, which had me at a disadvantage.

"See Ya later," I said and walked over to my Ford.

"Bye, see Ya," was all she added.

This weekend didn't look really promising on the girlfriend front, but at least both Saturday and Sunday were free. I drove the three blocks to my parents' house and went inside.

Dad was already home, having a beer. Mom was frying fish for dinner. We often ate fish on Fridays like a lot of the local Catholics. Mom's haddock was always very good. We'd often have it with fried potato slices from dad's garden and lettuce with hot bacon dressing. That was a real Pa. Dutch recipe.

"Get yourself washed up for dinner," was how my mom greeted me.

Dad also worked outdoors all day as an ironworker, and he occasionally drank one beer before dinner. He poured a can of Schaefer's into a glass and dumped some salt into the glass from a shaker. That was dad's idea of salt replenishment from sweating all day.

"You want one?" asked my dad referring to a can of Schaefer's.

"Maybe later, thanks," I answered. A real bonding moment in our household.

I went upstairs to our bathroom and stripped off my t-shirt and washed my face, arms and hands. I put on a worn shirt hanging from my bedpost and went downstairs to dinner. We didn't often have much conversation at our dinner table. When I was still in school, the silence was welcome, because talking usually involved questions on how my schoolwork was going. I had adopted my dad's routine of not talking about how work was going either.

After dinner, I went upstairs and grabbed a clean pair of underwear, shorts, and one of our old, clean towels that I'd used for gym class while still in high school. I rolled my underwear and shorts up inside the towel. I also grabbed a travel-soap box, that had a bar of Ivory soap in it. Our house was on the main street of our little town, so I walked out of the backyard and headed towards B.A.B. for a dip and a bath. A little over a block from my house, my buddy Jim Greiner was outside on their back patio. He was sitting on a lawn chair having a Coke.

"Hey Tom, what's up?"

"Hey bud, just going over to the quarry for a quick bath. Feel like a dip?"

"Let me grab a towel," Jim said and went inside their house.

Just then, Jim's mom came out onto the patio, "Hey Tom, how's your summer going, now that you've graduated?"

"It's going okay Mrs. Greiner, mostly just working hard," I answered.

"Awe, all work and no play, huh? Poor babies, you sound like Jimmie now. Well, you've got a great tan, so the girls up, at state should like that," she teased.

Mary Greiner was a vivacious redhead, who looked about ten years younger than her husband, Jim's dad. She looked very trim in a pair of white capri pants that showed off her shapely legs. She was also wearing a sleeveless, black, V-neck blouse with little white polka dots. Her bare arms had lots of freckles on her pale skin.

At thirty-seven years old, Mary was the one mom among our friends that we all had the 'hots' for. Jim would sometimes be embarrassed by her seemingly blatant flirting with us at times. She also had a quiet reputation for having a boyfriend, 'on the side', although it was probably just a rumor. It wasn't something you talked about with a buddy.

Jim came out the back door just then carrying a towel, and walked over to where I was standing.

"Oh, you guys are going over to B-A-B, huh? Maybe I'll tag along," laughed Mary.

"Haha, very funny mom," said Jim.

"Sure, c'mon along," I teased.

"Another time maybe," Mary said looking me square in the eyes, with a smile on her face. She held the eye contact, until I broke it.

'What's up with these women and girls here in our town?'-that was a question going through my mind lately.

"Let's go," said Jim, somewhat embarrassed by his mom's flirting.

I had learned from an older buddy to always talk politely to all my friends' parents. A lot of my buddies' parents talked more to me than my own parents did. I never really figured out that dynamic. And moms seemed to want to talk about everything that boys were doing. Of course, we were no longer boys, and moms seemed to get that, before the dads caught on. Besides, my own mom rarely just talked to me about anything going on in my life, unless it involved trouble in school, or chores.

Probably the best thing about talking to our buddies' moms was, they were always the first to treat us as young men, and paid compliments that dads seldom did. They were experts at building up a young man's self-esteem. As a result, we liked being around other guys' moms rather than our own. And occasionally, it would turn into an attraction.

I waved goodbye to Mary, and Jim and I walked towards the railroad tracks that separated our town from the quarry. Rail traffic was light in the late afternoon or early evening. We crossed the tracks and made the short hike through the woods to the top ridge of B.A.B. There was a path cut between the large blocks of limestone, descending to the water's edge. It was approximately a twenty-five-foot drop from the top of the ridge to the water level. Looking around the huge body of water, we only saw two swimmers on the far side.

The reason for its nickname was it was a men-only swimming hole for three generations, and we all swam nude. I'd been a regular at the quarry, since I was thirteen, and had an all-over tan for the past five years.

According to my great-uncle John, the quarry flooded sometime when he was a young boy before World War I. The heavy digging equipment hit natural springs and flooded the stone quarry. Our little town had three of these limestone quarries, all flooded, but B.A.B. was the largest and most pristine. Occasionally some visitors would come from other towns, and a few wore bathing suits, but no one cared, either way.

So, Jim and I traversed down the rocky path, and we were soon at our favorite spot at the quarry. It was called 'Thirty', and I have no idea why that name. I suspected or heard that it was around thirty feet deep at that rocky ledge. It was a slab of rock about the size of a small room, that sat up about one foot to eighteen inches off the water, with another smaller slab on top. That upper slab was about three feet above the water level. Both slabs were great for diving into the deep water. Directly to our right, about forty to fifty feet away was the wading pool or baby pool, that we talked about previously.

Jim and I walked to 'Thirty,' and started to undress. Once we had stripped, we walked the short distance to the wading pool, where we usually took a bath. The water was very clean spring water. A little soap quickly dissolved or ran off by way of two little creeks while the quarry was constantly changing its water. There was also a little pumphouse on the far side, where a local cardboard company drew water off occasionally for its process. The water stayed almost at a constant level for decades with the springs feeding it below and pumping and two streams outflowing when it got too high.

I walked into the wading pool to my knees and started to soap myself all over. This was the same wading pool, where my cousin Becky and I had a little night swim a few weeks earlier. After getting fully lathered, I placed the Ivory back in the box and laid it just at the water's edge. I waded back in and dove into the deeper water.

We both swam over to 'Thirty' and climbed out by way of some small natural steps on the side of the slab. Having done it a hundred times, we automatically knew where to place our feet and hands to pull ourselves out. I sat down on the upper slab, and let the warm air dry me. Jim stood there naked, looking across the quarry doing the same.

"How's Amy treating you?" I asked. Amy was Jim's new girlfriend; he'd met her earlier in the summer. She was going to be a senior at Eastern High on the other side of town.

"Ahh, okay, I guess. She's been upset over something I said, this week," Jim offered.

"How about you and Faye?"

"About the same. I stopped by to see her after work, down at her parents' pool, and out-of-the-blue she asked me if Bonnie's boobs were bigger than hers."

"Wow, where the hell did that come from? I hope you didn't answer that."

"Hell no. I might be stupid, but not THAT stupid. She was looking 'hot' down at the pool. I could have asked her to pull down her bikini-top, so I could compare."

"Hahahaha, oh yeah, that would be the kiss of death right there. You're NOT that stupid."

"So, I'm just going to play it cool this weekend, and see if she misses me."

"Kind of what I'm doing too. Maybe we can cruise the loop downtown, later, and see what's happening. Either in my pickup or your Ford."

"Let's use your Chevy, I haven't ridden in it yet."

We both just stayed a little longer and didn't even need a towel to dry off. The warm summer air did it for us. After getting dressed, we hiked up the path over the limestone to the top and headed towards the railroad tracks. Despite the quarry's immense size, it was very private, surrounded by a combination of railroad tracks, plus a small, wooded section, and a large hill on the other side. On the east and west sides were more woods and fields.

We were back at Jim's house in about five to ten minutes from starting our hike up the rocky path. I then realized that I'd forgotten to go pick up my soap box. Oh well, it would most likely still be there tomorrow.

"I'll see you in about an hour, okay?"

"Sounds good," Jim replied.

I lived a little over a block away from Jim on the main street. I went back into the house to get changed into some clean shorts and a cool sports shirt. Mom and Dad had already gone to their bowling league. The house was unlocked. I thought about calling Faye but thought it best to let her have a night or two without calling her. Of course, I was avoiding more conversation about Bonnie, since that wasn't going anywhere.

Mom hadn't left any notes that Faye had called, and I decided not to call either. I guess you could call it a Mexican standoff, 'no strategy exists that allows either party to achieve victory.' That's how it felt to be honest. Jim was in the same boat as me, with Amy. He didn't share what exactly triggered their conflict, and I didn't press it.

I was wearing a lime-colored polo shirt and tan shorts, with white tennis sneakers and no socks. I combed my thick, wavy dark brown hair, as best as I could after swimming and washing it with bar soap. When I used to get ready for school, it often looked like I hadn't combed it after spending about ten minutes trying to tame it a little.

While it was only a block away, I decided to drive my car over to Jim's and leave it there. My Ford wasn't exactly the quietest car, so I didn't bother knocking on Jim's door, figuring that he would hear me arrive. Most houses had their windows open in the summer, except the lucky few that had a noisy window air conditioner or two.

I got out of the car, and Jim's mom was down on her hands and knees working on their flower beds. She seemed to be happily pulling weeds and her ass was straining the shorts she was wearing. I'm sure she heard my Ford's dual exhaust pipes as I arrived, but she never looked up and her ass bobbed back and forth as she worked. I tried unsuccessfully not to stare.

I was kind of relieved when Jim came out the back door, as I felt like a voyeur watching his mom, but she didn't seem to mind.

"You boys have fun tonight," she said as Jim walked over to where I was standing.

"We'll try," was all Jim added as we walked over to his Chevy truck.

It was still daylight, but the sun had set, and the air had cooled off a little. We got into Jim's truck, and he cranked up the engine. His dad had helped him tune it, and it sounded pretty good for a six cylinder.

"Where do you want to go first?"

"You're driving, I'm just along for the ride."

It was kind of the rule with young guys in our town, that the driver picked where you were going, unless it was somewhere specific you had planned on beforehand. It didn't vary that much anyway. The city that was adjacent to our little town had a loop that was about two to three miles long. Most of the young people drove that loop, looking for friends, or sometimes cars with girls driving around.

We were all mostly too young to go to the bars, so it was drive around the loop, maybe get something to eat or drink, and then drive some more. Usually after three or four circuits, you decided to go somewhere else. I think this routine was common in most of the small towns and cities here in our part of the country.

I'd be willing to wager that quite a few guys had met their girlfriends doing this over the years. Driving the loop also resulted in a few drag races with other guys, and on rare occasions a fight might occur. Meeting girls was always the top priority, even though neither Jim nor I were supposedly in the market. Well, not actively.

At the far end of the loop sat the Dixie Drive-in, where Faye and I had run into Bonnie a couple weeks ago. Things between us had cooled considerably ever since Jane, Faye's cousin saw Bonnie sitting on my lap that night. Bonnie was one of our classmates all through elementary school and high school. She had a twin sister, Debbie, who didn't have much in common with her voluptuous sister.

Bonnie was a full figured, busty blonde, while Debbie was trim, athletic, and had dark hair and skin complexion. Debbie was also more reserved, and Bonnie was outgoing and flirty. Debbie was also an honor student, while Bonnie was a solid 'C' student where school was more of a social gathering.

Jim drove his Chevy towards the east end of town, towards the drive-in. We listened to the radio without saying too much while taking in the sights. He eventually turned onto the west-bound part of the loop, which took us back to where we started. Part of the loop through the city was one-way, so two cars could drive side by side. It wasn't unusual for the people in the cars to have conversations with the passengers in the other car, while driving, that lasted for several blocks.

So, after making a few circuits and seeing a lot of school friends, we headed back to the west end of town. We had the radio playing the Phillies game, and we decided to go back to Jim's house and listen to the game on his front porch and pilfer some of his dad's beer. A regular activity among many of our friends and their dads.

Near the end of the loop, a blue Chevy Corvair pulled up next to us.

"Hey Tom, hey Jim," yelled Bonnie Dallmeyer while driving alongside us.

We saw that Sue-Ellen Hoerner was riding shotgun. Sue-Ellen lived a couple houses down the street from the Dallmeyer twins and was Bonnie's best friend. She was a short, athletic-looking blonde who wore her hair short, and had very muscular legs from running track at school.

"Hey Bonnie, hey Sue-Ellen," I returned from the passenger seat of Jim's Chevy truck.

"What are you girls up to?"

"Not much, we were just headed down to the diner, to get a bite to eat. Debbie finishes her shift at nine, so we'll give her a ride home."