Flicks With Chicks : Pacific Banana (1981)

Alyson Best as Mandy

The Story

Martin Budd (Graeme Blundell) is a pilot for Blandings Airlines. After his employer's wife, Lady Blandings, tries to force herself on him, first during a private flight and secondly in her chauffeur-driven limousine, Martin develops a sexual disfunction. When attempting sex he sneezes and loses his erection. This is depicted by a shot of a windsock deflating. Sir Harry Blandings (Alan Hopgood) sees Martin fall out of the limo and sneeze, while a dishevelled Lady Blandings informs him she has been molested.

Blandings fires Martin, but not before showing him off to his daughter, Julia (Helen Hemingway), and explaining that this is what a sex maniac looks like. For Julia it is love at first sight. After his wife is gone, Harry explains that he knows what she is like and that he will send Martin to work as a pilot for Banana Airlines. On his way there he is picked up by a sexy woman who tries to seduce him. When he finds out that she is Blandings' other daughter Penny he sneezes and goes limp.

Banana Airlines seems to consist of only one plane, and a pretty clapped-out one at that. The other pilot is an inveterate lady's man by the name of Paul Davidson (Robin Stewart) who is engaged to both of the airline hostesses - Sally (Deborah Gray) and Mandy (Alyson Best), but still finds time to cheat on them with a string of other women.

Once Paul, Sally and Mandy find out about Martin's problem they try to help him with it. When the plane is chartered by Candy Bubbles (Luan Peters) to carry a bunch of swingers to Club Candy (her cut-price answer to Club Med), she and her club hostesses lend a hand.

Julia Blandings keeps stowing away aboard the plane and popping up to declare her undying love for Martin, which just panics him even more.

While jealous husbands and jealous hosties pursue Paul, Candy finally resorts to a primitive ritual which involves her baring her boobs and which is liable to arouse not just every man on the island, but the slumbering volcano as well.

But perhaps it is true love in the person of Julia which will, after all, provide the cure for what ails our hero.

The Director

John D. Lamond was once the king of Aussie skin flicks. He began in 1975 with a mondo style documentary called Australia After Dark. This was to be a look at the sinister and sleazy side of Australian life. The only problem was that in 1975 Lamond found it hard to find anything sinister or sleazy going on to film, so he had to create his own black mass and kinky orgy, the latter scene featuring a well-known gay television personality sporting leather gear. Next came The ABC of Love and Sex : Australia Style (1978) - a softcore sex film posing as as a sex education documentary and featuring women in leotards fondling giant penis statues. Also in 1978, Lamond made his most popular film Felicity, an Emmanuelle imitation about a plucky school girl who travels to Hong Kong and finds herself on a journey of sexual discovery. After that he turned to the popular slasher film genre with Nightmares (1980). Pacific Banana appears to have been Lamond's last real success. He directed a couple more films in Australia - Breakfast in Paris (1982) and A Slice of Life (1983), a comedy about vasectomy, and he wrote and produced a science fiction adventure called Sky Pirates (1986). Since then he's made a couple of obscure thrillers shot in Asia. But his appearance in Mark Hartley's documentary Not Quite Hollywood (2008) and the DVD releases of a number of his films has brought him back into the public eye, and now he is planning to direct two new movies - a noirish thriller and a dramady as well as executive produce some others. Check out this article for more on these current projects.

The Writer

Alan Hopgood is a writer and an actor. In Pacific Banana he plays the role of Sir Harry Blandings. He wrote the script for the famous Australian sex comedy Alvin Purple (1973) which made a star of actor Graeme Blundell. He also wrote its sequel and the television series which followed. He has written for famous television soaps such as Bellbird (1967), The Flying Doctors (1987-1991) and Neighbours (1998-2001). As an actor he has been a regular on Australian television. He played the part of Wally Wallace in 75 episodes of Prisoner. Films in which he as acted include My Brilliant Career (1979), The  Blue Lagoon (1980) and Roadgames (1981). Clearly Lamond thought that, by reuniting Hopgood and Blundell, he might end up with a hit like Alvin Purple. Certainly he and Hopgood were hoping it would be the first of a series. It didn't turn out that way. Hopgood was disappointed with the way Lamond cheapened his script, adding a pie fight sequence, etc. He feels that it was the director's fault that they didn't end up with a successful series of films.

The Actors

Graeme Blundell became a household name in Australia playing the role of Alvin Purple in the film of the same name. This tale of an ordinary guy who is unaccountably irresistible to women was a huge success, taking advantage of the recently created R-rating and paving the way for a string of raunchy romps like Pacific Banana. He has had an extensive career in film and television and even appeared in Star Wars : Episode III - Revenge of the Sith (2005). He has also worked extensively in the theatre and was the author of a best-selling biography of Australian television personality Graham Kennedy.

Robin Stewart is an English actor perhaps best known for his role as Mike Abbott in the sitcom Bless This House (1971-1976) starring Sid James and as Leyland Van Helsing in the Hammer Films / Shaw Brothers collaboration The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires (1974).

Deborah Gray adorned the cover of Australian Playboy in March 1981 as well as appearing in three other issues of the magazine. She became famous in 1977 playing the character of Miss Hemingway on the notorious Australian soap Number 96. Miss Hemingway was a serial exhibitionist who would appear in public in a long fur coat only to drop it and reveal that she was completely naked underneath. Her public exposures and trips to the psychiatrist in hopes of finding a cure for her behaviour were  a highlight of the show towards the end of its run. As well as playing the role of Sally, she and Luan Peters co-wrote and sang the film's catchy theme song. She went on to have a pop music career in the late seventies. Now she writes witchcraft books and has put out a jazz album.

Alyson Best appeared on a number of television soap operas, including having a main role in the short-lived Holiday Island (1981) of which her bikini-clad form was the major appeal. She also appeared a number of movies, including Harlequin (1980), with Robert Powell and David Hemmings, and Paul Cox's brilliant Man of Flowers (1983). She had a very appealing girl-next-door quality and often got her gear off on film. John Lamond claims she walked around nude for much of the time they were filming Pacific Banana. She hasn't acted on television or film since 1986.

Helen Hemingway was born in 1953. This would mean she was 28 when she played the role of Julia Blandings, running around in a school uniform. So the voice over narration which describes her as "mutton dressed up as lamb" is accurate. Her acting career was a fairly modest one. She appeared in three television series and two movies. The other movie was the cult horror film Patrick (1978). A pity. After seeing her sexy and charming performance in this film I would have liked to see more of her.

Luan Peters did a lot of television in Britain including two appearances on Doctor Who. She also appeared in two Hammer vampire films - Lust for a Vampire (1971) and Twins of Evil (1971).

Hedley Cullen who has a brief non-speaking role as an airline passenger who leeringly looks up Deborah Gray's skirt was better known as Adelaide television horror host Deadly Earnest.

The Review

John Lamond's movies are not what you would call high-class cinema, but unlike many other auteurs who chased the drive-in dollar he kept the production values high on his movies. They might be dumb exploitation movies, but they always looked good. And Pacific Banana is no exception. The girls are gorgeous and artfully photographed. The scenery often spectacular. And the acting is good enough for the requirements of the script. Graeme Blundell, in particular, has always been a fine comic actor. The gags in the film, and especially the campy narration, are more likely to induce groans than giggles, but it really doesn't matter. The characters are likeable, the actors and actresses good looking, and watching them fly around a number of Pacific islands having sexy adventures is a pleasant way to spend an hour and a half.

The Book

There was a tie-in paperback based on the film written by someone with the unlikely name of Aldor Flagg. It isn't very good. The plot differs in some areas from the movie, but it really has nothing to offer as the film's appeal is in its visuals and not in its plot or dialogue.

Washed Up : Wank Wednesday

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Queens of the Stone Age : Wank Wednesday

Wank Wednesday means another fruity flight of fancy, and today's prompt word is #flight. This writing challenge is hosted by Ruby Kiddell at The Erotic Notebook. Make sure to check out the other contributions over there.

Queens of the Stone Age

O.K. Before we start, lets just get something straight. You've come to expect from my stories a certain standard of realism. So when I start talking about a world where humans coexisted with dinosaurs, I can see that you are going to give me a hard time. But that is where you would be wrong. Because humans and dinosaurs did, in fact, walk the earth side-by-side. An increasing number of fossil discoveries have proven this beyond a shadow of a doubt.

So why haven't you heard about this? I'll tell you why. A conspiracy. The paleontologists of the world have made a secret agreement to keep a lid on the evidence. After all, not only would it be embarrassing to have to admit how wrong they had been for all those years, but, to release this information would serve to redeem and give comfort to a certain group of irresponsibly irrational individuals. You know who I mean. That's right. The makers of movies such as One Million Years, B.C. and When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth. Should these men learn that their movies were a spookily accurate depiction of what life was like for our cave-dwelling progenitors, right down to the brand of false eye-lashes worn by Racquel Welch, there is no telling what might eventuate. Maybe even a new series of The Flintstones.

So why am I breaking this conspiracy of silence? Because I'm not a scientist, I don't give a fuck, and I quite liked The Flintstones.

Ook was a member of a tribe who called themselves the Rock People. They lived far up in the mountain caves of central Europe. There life was a harsh battle against the elements. The wind blew heavy through the mountain passes, stirring up the massive drifts of snow. Like the rest of his people, Ook covered himself in a cloak of mammoth fur and also wore a tiger pelt loin cloth. His feet were wrapped in antelope leather, but his hairy legs were bare to the chilly winds. Only the tough survived in the high lands.

Ook pulled his flint knife from the side of his loin cloth and joined his fellow tribesmen in hacking free large slices of meat from the carcass of the mammoth that they had just felled with their mighty spears.

Old Mongo enthusiastically cut off the beast's genitals with a single swipe of his stone blade.

"Look at me," he cried, "I've got a mammoth cock!"

"Get a move on," growled Krog, the leader of the tribe. "The sabretooths will have smelled the blood. They'll be here any minute."

Of course they weren't really speaking English. They were speaking a language consisting of guttural grunts and expansive hand gestures.

As they headed back to their cave, heavily-laden with their cargo of raw meat, Ook contemplated his lot in life.

Ook had always felt that he should be leader of the tribe. Wasn't he the most intelligent? Wasn't it he who had first pointed out that their living conditions would be much pleasanter if they shat outside the cave? And yet Krog was the leader because of his prowess as a fighter. Krog could fell any man with one blow of his club. Anyone, that is, who had not already been laid low by his body odour.

One reason why Ook wanted to be leader was that the leader got first pick of a mate. Krog's woman, Hubba-Hubba, made Ook as horny as a Triceratops. She had ice-cold blue eyes beneath a tangled mane of raven hair. Her full breasts were barely contained by her crude leopardskin bra and the jiggling cheeks of her ass were tantalisingly revealed whenever the wind whipped up her loin cloth.

Ook, though very clever, was the worst fighter in the tribe. That is how he ended up with Grot-Grot as his woman. Grot-Grot had a bald patch on the top of her head, she was missing an eye and she smelled like a dead skunk. She did have a good sense of humour though.

The cave was a very crowded place. A tribe of thirty five men, women and children squeezed into a cliff-front cavity the size of a Taco stand. If they wanted to fight, they had to go outside.

And there was no privacy when it came to fucking. Once the children were asleep and the fire had gone out, the moaning would begin as couples rubbed together their bare skins beneath their bear skins. As the men humped away at their women in the Stegosaurus position, the women would gossip amongst themselves about whether their men were able to rock their world or whether they left them stone cold.

Then came the time for the women of the tribe to make their monthly pilgrimage down to the lowlands to gather fruit. Normally, this was an arduous but uneventful trip. But on this occasion the women were cornered in an orange grove by a hungry Tyrannosaurus. It came charging at them on its powerful legs,  saliva dripping from its razor-sharp teeth, and its pathetic little arms just sort of hanging there.

They had no alternative. Two of them picked up Grot-Grot and hurled her forcefully towards the terrible Thunder Lizard. And, as he bit her head clean off, tossed it in the air and swallowed it with a loud gulp, they turned tail and ran back up into the mountains.

So that is how Ook came to be sleeping alone on the night of the full moon.

All around him couples were grunting and squealing like sex-mad warthogs. He was feeling especially horny. He tried rubbing his raptor, but it just wasn't the same.

Krog loved nothing better than having Hubba-Hubba gobble his knob. And this is what she was doing beneath the bearskin to Ook's right.

"No harm in having a peak," he told himself as he lifted the bottom of the pelt and, by the light of the moon flooding through the cave entrance, feasted his eyes on Hubba-Hubba's luscious bare bum.

Krog's eyes were tight shut in ecstasy. What would he notice if Ook stole himself a bit of Hubba-Hubba's action?

He pulled himself up behind her and slid his stiff cock into her hairy wet pussy. She wriggled in approval. Just as Ook had suspected. She was a cavewoman of easy virtue.

Ook grabbed onto her hips and slapped his hairy six-pack against her bare bottom as he probed her pussy with his flesh spear.

If Ook had been a little less enthusiastic, things might have gone well. But he rammed into Hubba-Hubba so hard that she fell forward and sank her teeth into Krug's engorged prick.

"Owwwwwww!" cried Krug, his eyes flying open. "What the fuck! Ook you terrible cunt, stop fucking my woman!"

"What?" Ook, responded, thinking on his feet. "You mean this isn't a dream?"

But Krug didn't believe that Ook had been sleep-fucking. He challenged him to a fight.

Rather than die a horrible death in that cramped cave, Ook ran out into the wilderness where he could be free to die a horrible death in the fresh air.

He ran and he ran and he ran. If you've ever run down a mountain you'll realise that that is what happens. Starting is easy, stopping impossible. Two days later he arrived at the lowlands and fell forward on his face. For three hours he just lay there, but when a baby raptor came past and started eating his ear, he had to climb to his feet and look around. He was in the grove where the women gathered the fruit. So he filled his belly and then he thought about what to do next. He would have to go far far away if he were to be safe from Krog's vengeance. On the edge of the fruit grove was a creek, and beyond that a mighty desert. He drank his fill of water and then set out into the desert. He doubted that he would survive to get to its other side, but he could think of no other way to put a significant barrier between himself and Krug.

He was used to the cold climate up in the snow-capped mountains. The heat of the sun beating down on the desert sands was overwhelming. He abandoned his furs and his tiger pelt loincloth. Dizziness swept over him, and he had to use all of his will to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

And, finally, inevitably, he collapsed. There was no more energy in his body. He almost welcomed the end that he knew would come as the sun dried him up like a raisin.

But it was not to be. Just as all seemed lost, a mighty shadow swept across his body. In the clear blue sky above him a hungry pterodactyl circled and watched. And then it swooped down, clasped him in its sharp claws and bore him aloft. The desert was no place to enjoy a leisurely meal. It would take him back to its island nest.

Though Ook didn't know it, this was man's first experience of flight, of the freedom of souring up into the sky and seeing the world shrink below until the mightiest of trees looked small enough to stick up your nose.

It was a pretty big desert. Ook could see that from the air. There was no way he would have made it without the pterodactyl's help.

Oog's next surprise would be the ocean. How could he have suspected that somewhere there was an expanse of water even larger than the desert? He could see it coming a long way off, as they were flying quite high. But as they neared the beach, the pterodactyl began to circle and descend. Eventually, Ook could see why.

There were women on the beach. Naked women. Their only fur was that growing between their legs. Among the Rock People, nakedness was something that only happened in the dark. The sight of these gorgeous shapely nude women, all of them with strange yellow hair unlike anything Ook had seen before, cause him to pop a boner, even in his situation of grave peril.

The pterodactyl was circling the women on the beach trying to make his mind up whether one of them would make a tastier morsel than the sinewy piece of man meat he currently had in his possession. This gave Ook plenty of opportunity for a good long perv.

"Why not have a wank?" he asked himself. "After all, it might be my last."

Thus did he become the world's first member of the mile-high club, solo division, as he grabbed his stiff cock and stroked happily away as he enjoyed his aerial view of the bevy of buxom blondes who bedecked the brine-swept beach. How he would love to fuck one of those strange creatures. They were even more luscious than Hubba-Hubba. It didn't take long before his happy cock produced a spurt of creamy cum which fell down and landed on the belly of one of the dozing dishes.

"What was that?" she cried, opening her eyes. The girl next to her did likewise, and spotted the circling pterodactyl. Then she looked down at the milky substance that had landed with a splat on her friend's stomach.

"A pterodactyl just jizzed on you," she laughed.

The first girl wiped up some of the liquid on her finger and then licked it off.

"Funny," she said. "It doesn't taste like pterodactyl jizz."

Around this time the pterodactyl apparently decided that a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. Although he was really the only thing around that resembled a bird and the only bush in sight was of the pubic variety. Which just goes to show that it is a good thing it is me telling the story and not the pterodactyl, otherwise we'd all be confused.

As Ook's captor winged his way out over the water, headed for the volcanic island, which loomed up out of the sea about a half a mile offshore, Ook pulled out his flint knife and jabbed the creature's leathery claw.

The air was ripped asunder by an ear-shattering squawk, as the pterodactyl dropped Ook, who fell with a mighty splash into the sea.

Weak from dehydration and wanking, all Ook could do was to let the current float him towards shore. But by this time he had attracted the notice of the blonde babes on shore. A couple of them swam out to fetch him. One of them grabbed him by the dick, and the other put his head under her arm and pressed it up against her soft boob as she dragged him to shore.

The five women who had been sunning themselves on the beach were apparently only the tip of the iceberg, metaphorically speaking. Twenty three more stunners, their hair blonde and their bouncing bodies well-tanned, came pouring out of the cave that overlooked the beach.

There were no men. What Ook didn't know is that the men of the Sand People were off on a long fishing expedition and would not be back for several days.

Ook staggered out of the water with the curvaceous cavegirl beside him still pulling on his cock. Then the others gathered around him, sniffing him and curiously tugging at his strange dark hair.

"Akita!" one of the women said, insistently, thumping her fist between her ripe bosoms with an air of great pride.

"How are you doing, Akita?" Ook replied.

"Akita!" insisted another of the women, with the same gesture. Then another followed suit. And another. And another.

"Strange," thought Ook. "It must be confusing if they are all called Akita."

What he would only discover after living with the tribe for many months was that, in the language of the Sand People, "akita" meant "slut."

Realising that Ook was not in good condition, the girls took him back to their cave and fed him on fish and fruit and coconut milk. After a couple of days he was back to his old self.

These women of the Sand People were not like the women of the Rock People. For a start, they never stopped playing with themselves or each other. Or with Ook himself. There were always a couple of them sitting by the pile of palm fronds on which he rested. His presence seemed to greatly arouse them. They would stroke his head and the hair on his chest. They would kiss him and suck his toes. Meanwhile they would smile sweetly and masturbate with their other hand. If they thought he was not too tired they would suck his cock until he spurted his love juice down their throats. And when he was able to walk weakly out onto the beach he would find them playing a game which might have been called Lick Pussy Chasey. One would chase the others until she caught one, and the one caught would have to lick the catcher's pussy until her face was bathed in cunt juice.

Once he was recovered, Ook found he had his work cut out fucking all the girls. They loved wanking and licking each other's clits, but they liked cock best of all. Each night he would fuck three or four of them, and then, when the others pushed forward he would make a face which spoke apology and wag his limp willy at them to show that it had lost all hope of stiffness for that evening. But he was always willing to cuddle with them while they wanked off and licked each other's pussies. So nobody ever grumbled too much.

But Ook had a problem. His skin was used to the cloud-covered mountain skies. While the women were used to the sun and well-tanned, Ook burned a painful pink if he stayed too long in the sun.

Through gestures the women told Ook that they had a solution for his problem. They indicated that their pussy juice had a miraculous power to protect him from the sun.

Now, before you decide to save money on sunscreen and seek ozone protection for your next beach visit by smearing girl cum all over your body, let me tell you that it doesn't work. Those Sand People girls were conniving little bitches who knew how to exploit the ignorance of a hick from the high country in order to get the non-stop orgasms they craved.

"It'll take an awful lot of pussy juice to cover my whole body," Ook pointed out, though the girl's didn't know his language. They could pick up the gist though. They smiled and nodded their heads.

The first stage was the wanking. The girls lined up and Ook pleasured their pussies and stiff slippery little clits with his newly skilful fingers. He helped the process by sucking on their stiff nipples. As the cum squirted out, Ook wiped it up with his fingers as it dripped from their hairy pussies and smeared it onto his skin.

The second stage was the oral sex. Ook almost got fur balls from licking all of those hairy cunts. But the girls would soon squirm and shoot or dribble more of the substance he sought.

The final stage was just for those who could perform especially well under unusual circumstances. Mostly it was a case of him spanking their bottoms hard while they wanked themselves off.

Then one of them pointed her bum at him, bent over and pulled her cheeks apart. One of the other girls pointed to her butt-hole.

"What are you trying to say?" asked Ook. "That she's constipated?"

One of the other girl's looked exasperated. She lubricated her index finger with saliva and then slid it up the other girl's bottom. The girl whose bottom it was, gave a shivery giggle. The other girl removed her finger, pointed to Ook's cock, which had mysteriously stiffened at this display, and then back to the butt-hole in question.

So Ook wiped his pre-cum all over his member and then slid it happily home into the girl's chocolate starfish. The other girls all clapped as he plundered her poop shoot. Meanwhile she rubbed her clit until she squirted her essence into her hand. Once Ook and pulled out and wanked off over her beautiful behind, she wiped her cream all over his face.

Secure in the false assumption that his skin was duly protected, Ook lay out to sun himself and rest from all this exertion.

It was at this time that the men of the tribe returned from their fishing expedition.

The women told them about the stranger who had come to join their tribe. As the men gathered around to meet Ook, they sniffed and wrinkled their noses suspiciously.

"I think something fishy is going on here," one of them said to another.

The End

Bare-Assed Baywatch : Wank Wednesday

It's storytime once again. Today's Wank Wednesday prompt word is #buoy. For more information on this writing challenge, and to find the other stories, check out Ruby Kiddell's Erotic Notebook.

Bare-Assed Baywatch

"She can give me mouth-to-pussy resuscitation any time she wants," purred Sandy as she looked up at the tanned and busty lifeguard who was sitting at the top of a watch tower a few metres behind us wearing nothing but a bright red bathing cap and scanning the sea with a large pair of binoculars.

"Damn, did you have to say that," I complained.

We were at the nude beach, sunning ourselves beneath the lazily circling gulls, the sea gently caressing the sand in front of us and the wind softly teasing our pubes.

I'd had to learn a special kind of mental discipline for occasions like this. I'd had to learn to block all thoughts of sex from my mind, lest the sight of swinging boobs and wiggling bums and cute little pussies, some bare as a bald man's head and others as hairy as hamsters, cause my wee willie winky to transform into Bonerman. Sharks aren't the only kind of white pointers that strike panic into the hearts of nude beach patrons.

Looking over at Sandy, pushing back her long blonde hair, and grinning a grin that was the universal sign language for "Please fuck me" as she pointed down at the yellow cornsilk that surrounded her pink Percy-gobbler, there was no way the levee was not going to break, flooding my mind with images of fucking and sucking, bum-spanking and boob-squeezing, and causing my cock to swell and stiffen like an inflating balloon animal.

"Meat missile in the launching position," giggled Sandy when she had finished ogling the lifeguard and turned back to me. She gently placed her finger on the head of my cock and pushed it down. When she let go it sprang back to attention and quivered like a tuning fork.

"I'll be in trouble if anyone sees it," I told her. "I better get into the water and cool off."

"I'll join you," she replied.

As I ran down toward the water, with my cock swinging back and forth stiffly like a conductor's baton, a slim young redhead with firm breasts was rising from the water and coming in to the shore. Droplets of water ran down over her pink nipples, stiff from the cool water, over her firm belly with its cute little button, and ran in a river from the fiery forest of pubes that sprang from between her lithe and lean thighs. One look at me advancing upon her with my generative organ rampant and she screamed and ran off down the beach. I tried to tell her I was sorry as I watched her soft pink bottom jiggle away from me, but the sight was just not helping and what came out of my mouth was not intelligible.

"Scaring young women," Sandy scolded as she ran up beside me. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself."

"Me!?!" I cried. "You started it. It was your dirty fantasies about the lifesaver chick which turned Mr. Floppy into Mr. Stiffy."

By now the water was about our waists and the offending appendage was no longer on public display. It wasn't getting any softer though. The invigorating coldness of the water against its heat just made it all the more achingly rigid. Sandy pushed her soft body up against me and began stroking my cock with her right hand.

"It's not safe to bring you to the nude beach," she giggled. "You're too much of a perve."

"It's just not fair," I pointed out. "I'm sure you popped a little girl boner over that lust-inspiring lifesaver lass, but you can get away with it, because it isn't obvious." I reached down below the water and, sure enough, discovered that Sandy's clit was stiff too. It was no surprise that her pussy was wet, but it was slippery with more than water.

"Sounds like you're suffering from pussy-envy," she laughed.

"Very funny, Miss Freud," I replied, "but what are we going to do. I suppose we could have a wank here in the water before going back to the beach."

"No," she decided, looking out to sea. "Let's swim out to that buoy and fuck. With that to hang onto, I'm sure we can manage it."

I'm not all that fit, and it was a long swim, but the prospect of sliding my cock into Sandy's sweet juicy little pussy in such a public place was enough to drive me on as I dog-paddled for all I was worth.

Eventually we arrived at the buoy, a little yellow metal tower with some kind of warning sign on it that was floating on a round raft-like base and bobbing in the tide. From the beach we would have been almost invisible. I was sure we would be able to copulate without drawing attention to ourselves.

"We'll have to do it doggy-style," Sandy explained, throwing her arms around the buoy and pulling herself up higher in the water. "Or should we call it 'porpoise style'?"

"Sure beats patting the porpoise," I laughed as I pulled myself up behind her, feeling my sensitive stiff prick slide over the wet skin of her bottom.

"Don't put it in the wrong hole," she warned.

"I thought you loved it that way," I replied.

"I do," she explained. "But my bottom-hole is very tight, and if you get your willy stuck up there we won't be able to swim back to shore and we'll drown."

"Good point," I agreed, grabbing hold of the legs of the tower and lifting myself so that my cock slid smoothly into Sandy's slippery pussy.

"Nothing like feeling the Good Ship Lollycock sailing into Pussy Harbour," she sighed.

I pulled myself up and down and she pushed her arse back against me. It wasn't the most comfortable way to fuck, but it did the job.

"I just hope some shark doesn't come along," I panted as my hot stiffness slid in and out of Sandy's twitching cunt and the cool water swirled around us.

"At least he won't be able to bite off your dick," giggled Sandy.

Lifting myself up out of the water over and over again with Sandy's delectable bottom slapping wetly against my belly was giving me quite a workout. I was puffing and panting before too long. But I was as horny as a brass band and our unusual location brought on a tremendous adrenaline rush. The water was churning up around us like a scene from Piranha.

It came as quite a shock when we suddenly found we were not alone.

"You really shouldn't come out this far," yelled the lady lifesaver who had been the unknowing catalyst for the whole adventure. "But don't worry, I can save you. Just don't panic."

The next thing I knew her nude body was pressed up against my back. She had lovely big soft boobs with stiff little nipples like pencil erasers.

"I'll have to take you one at a time," she explained, pulling me back off of Sandy.

"Anything you say, Miss," I responded, deciding that it was best to cooperate lest she discover what we were really doing.

She had one arm under my right arm and across my chest. Her other hand came around the other side and collided with my rampant cock.

"Oh, I see," she said sternly. "You were too far out and not waving or drowning, but fucking."

"We were just looking for a bit of privacy," explained Sandy.

"Well, it's not allowed," pointed out our would-be rescuer. "My name is Hester. I'm the only lifeguard on  duty at the moment, so you'd better hope nobody drowns in the next twenty minutes or it will be all your fault."

"We could swim back by ourselves," I suggested.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that," she insisted. "You might escape."

"Escape?" queried Sandy.

"That's right," Hester told her. "You are both under citizen's arrest for lewd and lascivious behaviour in a public place."

"It's not all that public," Sandy pleaded. "The only reason you could see us was because you had binoculars."

"I'm not the only one with binoculars," Hester responded. "There is a whole bunch of guys who hide up on the cliffs. They have binoculars too."

"Sounds like maybe you should be arresting them," I said.

"Outside my jurisdiction," she explained. "I deal only with what happens in the water."

"Well, I suppose we have no option but to surrender," I sighed.

"I won't be able to lead you up the beach in this state, though," she mused, stroking my submarine stiffy.

"Maybe we could finish what we were doing and then you could arrest us," suggested Sandy, hopefully.

"I can't let you do anything illegal," Hester declared.

"I could have a wank," I told her.

"Still illegal," she pointed out. "There is only one course of action open to me. Much as it disgusts me, I'm going to have to masturbate you myself."

"I beg your pardon!?!" I exclaimed.

"Then neither of you will be engaging in sexual activity," she explained. "Your role will be passive not active. And it won't be sexual activity for me, as I will take no pleasure in it. I hope that you will try not to also. Remember this is nothing personal."

"I'm sorry," I replied. "I'm only human. Having a sexy girl like yourself wank me off is something I'm incapable of not enjoying."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," she warned me. "I'm going to get you off, but I'm not going to let you off."

By now she had a firm grip on my cock and was sliding the loose skin up and down. I could still feel her  stiff-nippled boobs pressed into my back and every so often her wiry pubes brushed against my bum.

Sandy let go of the buoy and swam up behind Hester.

"Stop stroking my bottom!" Hester ordered. Sandy just giggled.

"I bet you didn't know you started all of this," Sandy informed her.

"What do you mean?" asked Hester as she continued to stroke my stiffness.

"Patrick only popped a boner because I told him I was fantasising about you giving the kiss of life to my cunt," she explained.

"I may have my hands full," Hester threatened. "But if you don't take your finger out of my bum, I'll fart on it."

"Please, Sandy," I pleaded. "Don't make things worse for us by sexually molesting an emergency worker."

"O.K. I'll stop playing with Hester's bottom," huffed Sandy. "But it's O.K. for you. At least your getting wanked off. I'm still horny."

"Ahhhhhhhhh!" I cried out as the jism spurted out of the end of my cock and floated to the surface like a Man-o-War jellyfish.

"You wait here," Hester told Sandy. "I'll be back shortly."

Then she got me to put my arms around her neck and we swam to shore with her bare bottom pressed tenderly against my belly.

My body felt heavy as we rose from the shallow water and trudged up the beach. Everyone was staring.

"I'm going to lock you in here," Hester told me, and she pushed me into a storage room in the lifesaving club. I sat down at the table in the middle of the room and waited.

About twenty minutes later the door opened and Hester came in leading Sandy.

"My replacement is here now," Hester explained. "So I'll be able to wait with you until the police arrive."

"Are you really going to hand us over to the police?" asked Sandy nervously.

"I might," Hester threatened. "If you aren't good to me."

"Good to you?" I wanted to know.

"Well, I have to do the right thing in public, and when I'm on duty," she explained. "Apart from wanking you off, Patrick. That was very naughty of me. And I did enjoy it. My cunt got all gooey feeling your stiff cock in my hand. And knowing that it was thinking about me that made it that way in the first place. That's true isn't it? You weren't just trying to get off lightly?... er... so to speak."

"No, that was true," smiled Sandy. "I saw you sitting up on your lifeguard tower all nude but for your cute little cap and I started fantasising that you would pull me out of the water and revive me by parting my thighs and applying your lips and tongue to my cream-dripping cunt." As she said this she reached down and began masturbating leisurely.

"Well," chuckled Hester, walking over to her. "CPR is the more conventional method for reviving people. I won a prize for my CPR."

"For your Cock Provoking Rear?" I suggested, coming up behind her and fondling the soft cheeks of her bottom.

"No, silly!" she smiled. "Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation. For getting people's hearts started."

"Your rear could get my heart started again," I told her. "I'm sure of it." And then I spanked that part of her anatomy with my newly stiffening cock.

"Well, I'm almost as good at pussy-sucking as I am at CPR," Hester bragged. "So I think I can make your dream come true. My only condition is that I get fucked while I do it."

"You drive a hard bargain," I said sternly as I pushed her head down between Sandy's spread legs and slid my cock deep into her cunt.

"She's not kidding," swooned Sandy. "I think my pussy's died and gone to heaven."

"I'm not there yet," I replied, as I watched Hester's soft brown butt-cheeks jiggle in time to my pussy-pounding, "but I can see it from here."

Some time later, Sandy started quivering and quaking and curling her toes. I slammed my cock one more time into Hester's pussy and coated it liberally with spunk as she squirted all over my cock and balls like she was pissing herself. Sandy cried out in ecstasy and fell off of her chair.

"You know it is a real hassle when people misbehave at the nude beach," Hester told us after we had regained our composure and were sitting at the table having a casual chat. "If you want to sunbathe nude, and you don't think you can trust yourselves, come over to my place and lay out in the backyard. If it's my day off that is."

"That's very kind of you," Sandy smiled.

"But I have to warn you," she explained seriously. "They don't call me Hester the Molester for nothing. Working here at the nude beach, seeing spunky guys with their cocks out and hot gals in the all-together makes me very frustrated. When I'm on my own I spend most of my time molesting myself. But if I have company, I don't take "no" for an answer. Cocks get sucked, pussies get licked, and faces get ridden by my salty wet cunt until they get bathed in a tsunami of twat-juice. But don't worry, I'm a lifesaver, I won't let you drown."

The End