This story was written for the
Summer Lovin' Story Contest 2023
. Please vote for this story if you've enjoyed it, and give me any feedback you think might help me grow as a writer. Specifically, I know I typically write shorter stories, and if you'd like to see something longer I can try to accommodate that. Or if you think the length is just right, that would be great to know as well. Otherwise, please enjoy.
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In Utah, one of the few good things about the scorching Summer was Lagoon opening up for the season. I didn't typically enjoy roller coasters myself, but my wife and kids did; I always went with them, but held off on the excitement of the rides. I was after a different kind of thrill.
Despite the overwhelming Mormon population in Utah, Lagoon in the Summer seemed to bring out all the sluts. Eighteen and Nineteen year old girls who had just earned their independence chose this opportunity to go out with their friends and experience freedom for the first time, usually wearing next to nothing.
I sat on a park bench while my wife and children were who-knows-where. I leered from behind dark glasses at the young women walking past. First it was a tall blonde in shorts so short I could see the bottoms of each cheek. I kept my face forward, but followed her curves with my eyes as she jounced past.
Then it was a whole group of five girls—a little older, maybe twenty—in white tank tops with no bra. Under the hot sun, soaked with the water from some ride, I could clearly see ten perfect, perky nipples beneath the fabric. I felt myself grow hard.
My god, how these girls dressed, it's like they were begging for attention. Would they hate it if they knew I was watching them? How could they, when they so clearly wanted to catch my eye. Though I had to admit, I was most interested in the alternative girls, the ones wearing all black even on a hot, sunny day. The ones with pierced nipples showing through their tight tank tops.
My wife was a rather plain looking woman, beautiful in a simple way. Blonde bob cut, good figure, clean, untattooed skin. She wasn't anything horrible to look at, but she just didn't get me hard like these young sluts did.
I was older than all of them, but I wasn't bad looking. I kept myself in shape, going to the gym regularly. And yet, I still had a bit of a beer belly that I just couldn't seem to shake. My wife had suggested liposuction, but other girls—at the bar or at work—said it was cute. They said my dad bod had an undeniable allure.
A short girl with a short black top that exposed her tattooed midriff walked past me. Again, I kept my face forward, but let my gaze linger up her slender calves to the black booty shorts that left nothing to the imagination. Suddenly, the girl turned her head and met my eyes.
I frowned and quickly averted my gaze. I don't know if she knew I was checking her out or not, but I figured it was best to move on to the other beautiful sights.
A few minutes later, the same short girl walked past again. I didn't let my gaze linger nearly as long, but I still couldn't help but flick my eyes to her face as she strode past. She talked into a cell phone and I could see a stud in her tongue. I grew even harder and adjusted myself where I sat, my mind suddenly wondering what a tongue piercing would feel like on my genitals.
Another few minutes later, the exact same girl walked past, even closer to the bench where I sat. I caught her sneaking a sidelong glance at me; she definitely knew I'd been checking her out. It was probably time to move on to a different location.
Unfortunately, before I could stand, the girl walked up and plopped down on the bench beside me. She sat with her hands under her pale thighs, and I lowered my shades to meet her eyes.
"Hey," she said in a firm voice. Up close I could see she also had a ring through her nose and three studs in each ear, dark stones to match her dyed black hair. "I know you've been checking me out."
I raised my hands in defense. "I'm just waiting for my family," I explained.
She pursed her lips and leaned in closer to me, her eyes hard. "Don't deny it. I know you're just preying on girls out here."
"Whoah, whoah, whoah," I said defensively, though I didn't back up either. I could smell her breath, fruity like gum. "I'm not 'preying' on anyone. I'm seriously just waiting for my wife."
Suddenly she smirked. She flicked her tongue out for a second, playing with the piercing between her black lips. "You mean to say you're really not undressing me with your eyes right now."
That caused my sight to flick down her body. From where I sat, I could see down her crop top to her large milky-white cleavage beneath, and the floral tattoos running across the tops of her breasts.
She laughed, then quietly said, "Well if you weren't before, you certainly are now."
I couldn't deny it, so I stayed quiet. The girl leaned into me, putting one arm around my shoulders. Her other hand rested on my khaki shorts, running circles over my pocket. Her glossy black nails caught the light here and there, reflecting them into my eyes.
"Look," she said again, basically whispering into my dumbfounded face, "You can look all you want; that's fine with me. But just looking always seems a little counterintuitive in my opinion."
I forced myself to maintain eye contact, but I could feel her hand moving slightly upwards on my shorts. "I'm married," I said to further try and cement my pure intent.
The girl smiled. "So? Are you trying to say you're working yourself up over me just so you can go and fuck your wife later on? Do you really plan on telling her how hard you're getting from watching chicks at Lagoon all day?"
