Many years ago I spent my summer in one of the coastal cities of South Carolina. My uncle owned a big electrical supply house there and offered me a job for the summer between my sophomore and junior years of college. I figured why not go? I was sick of weeding the greens at the local golf course, and when I wasnât working I could spend my time at the beach. Of course, being a northern boy, I didnât know about the heat and humidity in Carolina in the summer. Try spending your day lugging around bundles of 1â heavy wall conduit in 100 degree heat.
I was a summer fill-in guy, and handled the job of anyone who went on vacation. So though I usually worked in the warehouse, sometimes I was taking orders and I even did some deliveries. Thatâs how I met Mary Lou. She worked for some small outfit and would check the orders I delivered to her company. Mary Lou was a very small girl, about 5â2â and maybe 95 pounds. She had this lush honey blonde straight hair that fell half way down her back and she was extremely cute. But her voice was the clincher. She had a little girl voice with a perfect southern accent. The first time she spoke to me I was hooked. (Remember that cartoon with the wolf sitting in the nightclub listening to the singer and howling? That was me.) Now I had always thought of myself as a breast man, but Mary Louâs breasts were pretty small as far as I could tell. (She dressed rather conservatively, and her clothes didnât reveal much). I didnât care. I just wanted to look into those green eyes and listen to her speak. Within a week of meeting her, I asked her out. Before long we were spending all our spare time together. Her voice may have been childlike, but she had an iron will and was very intelligent. She was just fun to be with. It was only later that I was to discover that she had the most perfect ass in the south. And her legs were to die for. Two out of three ainât bad.
I am a small person. Iâm only 5â4â and weigh only about 150. But I was a relatively big-time athlete. I was a three year starter on our college wrestling team (and one year we placed in the top ten in NCAA Division I). So I was small but mighty. Fortunately I guess, my prick is disproportionately large for my frame. Itâs 7 ½ inches long when angry. Iâm not one to measure, but there was this townie girl back at college (we called her the sword swallower), who was determined to go down on one mile of cocks before she died. She actually kept a journal and carried a tape measure. Every guy she went down on got a place in her journal with the number of inches. She wasnât expecting much from me, but got well over half a foot of cock for her trouble. Last I saw her she claimed to be past 1600 feet. You have to admire a person with goals. Anyway, even though 7 ½ inches isnât huge, on my small body it looks like a python.
Mary Lou was 19 at this time. She had two friends she had been with since 7th grade. They got together about twice a week and spent most of their time together drinking, laughing, and talking dirty. Emily was about 5â8â, with red hair and freckles, an hour-glass body and above average looks. She was a party girl type who I never saw in a bad mood. Wanda was a really good looking blonde, maybe 5â5â with a great figure. The effect was spoiled when she opened her mouth. She was originally from some hick town in the boondocks of Georgia and had this back country southern accent that to my ears was barely intelligible. Every sentence she spoke contained some derivation of the word âfuckâ. And she wasnât real bright. Still, she was funny and fun, and if she kept her mouth shut she was quite easy on the eyes. After meeting her I knew that if I hadnât been dating Mary Lou, Wanda would have been a prime candidate for a night of drink and debauchery.
After I had been dating Mary Lou for over a month, she decided that I should be a part of one of her little parties with her friends. Emily and Wanda were both 20 and both married. Mary Lou explained to me that down South, if a girl didnât plan to go to college (and few of them did from her socio-economic level), she got married. Both girls had been married immediately after graduation from high school. Mary Lou almost had done the same thing until she had an attack of sanity. Emilyâs husband was an almost stereotypical southern jerk. He was a sexist racist asshole who mostly was interested in hunting, fishing and drinking. He was about a foot taller than me and must have outweighed me by a hundred pounds, but at least forty pounds of it was beer. Wandaâs husband was a low-life, pot-smoking, pale-faced, skinny reprobate who had never held a job in his life. She paid for everything and he sat on his ass and got high. Neither of these two were ever invited to the girlâs parties (Mary Lou couldnât stand either of them), so I was surprised when she insisted that I come. Actually they came to me, âcause I was staying at my uncleâs vacation cabin on the beach, about 15 miles north of town. Back then the beach was totally secluded, with only a few houses and fewer people.
When these girls got together they usually drank rum and coke, and I mean they put it away. I wasnât much of a drinker, so I suggested we do some grass as well. None of the girls smoked (even the one with the stoner husband), so I thought it might be interesting to do honey slides. For the innocent among you, honey slides are made by cooking a quantity of cleaned pot in a skillet until the stuff starts to smoke. Then you pour it onto a tablespoon of honey and suck the stuff down your throat. The cool thing about honey slides is they donât work right away. It might take half an hour, sometimes even an hour before they hit you. After a while youâre thinking âshit, we didnât cook it enough, this isnât going to workâ. Before long you forget you even did it. Then it hits you. But the effect isnât gradual, like it is when smoking. Itâs like: âIâm straight⌠Iâm straight⌠Iâm straight⌠Iâm shit-faced!â The stuff hits you like a ton of bricks and lasts forever.
We had been playing some board game (seems to me it was âAggravationâ), and the girls were drinking. Now all along, the girls had been kidding each other about their significant others. (Even though Mary Lou and I had only been seeing each other for a little while, I was graciously included in the mix). Emily and Wanda were both saying how hung their husbands were. And they were kidding Mary Lou that she didnât need that much because she was so small, which according to them was lucky for me. I was like âhey girls, donât hold anything back just because Iâm hereâ. Mary Lou is normally quiet and is very reticent to talk about sex so she didnât come to my defense. The talk had gotten pretty risquĂŠ (which is the way these girls usually talked to each other during these get-togethers apparently). Then the honey slides kicked in.
Itâs hot even at night on the beach in South Carolina in August. We were all dressed in shorts and tee shirts, but were still feeling the heat (me more than them, they were used to it). Finally Wanda said, âThese fucking clothes are making me stew. Letâs go swimminâ.â Everyone suddenly realized that we were almost magically and instantly totally fucked up, and we started laughing hysterically.
Mary Lou said, âWanda, you know we donât have our bathing suits!â
Wanda just laughed. âWho needs suits? We skinny dip all the time.â
Emily agreed. âHoney, you ainât got nothin that everyone here hasnât already seen. Iâm stewing too. Letâs get out of these sticky old clothes and cool off.â
Mary Lou wasnât through. She said, âBut what about Joey?â