I had been buying Sharon lots of new clothes, lower cut tops, shorter skirts etc. I even bought her an ankle bracelet. Sharon had no idea what it meant, of course. How was she to know that an ankle bracelet meant that she was available? My mother and father had a caravan by the sea, in a place called Millisle. They offered us the use of it for the July Fortnight. We gladly accepted their kind offer. We set off on our holidays full of excitement. Sharon had packed her latest outfits. The summer was in its height and as it turned out it was a bit of a heat wave. The days were long and lazy in the sun, and I encouraged Sharon to wear her skimpiest clothes as she lay in the sun reading a book A caravan not far from ours was occupied by a group of rowdy teenage boys. I think there was about six of them, all in their late teens. They were all skinheads, jeans, Ben Sherman shirts and braces, with of course the standard Dr Martin Boots. They seemed to spend most of their days drinking. Soon he heard the unmistakable rapid, slapping sound of a handjob. Was it Rick beating off or was Catherine stroking him...fisting his cock? He hoped it was just the former. He heard Rick moaning again. "Bastard" he thought. Rick spoke again...panting and in a whisper. All Bob could make out was the word "suck". "Ahh Christ, was she now going to suck him off?" "No" he thought, "she'd never do that". After a minute or two of wet slurping sounds he heard moaning from Rick, then Catherine's voice, somewhat garbled...as if she had a mouthful of marbles..."Oh yeah Rick....stick that huge cock of yours down my throat. Oh yeah baby....deeper , deeper.....fuck my face with that steel pole....c'mon baby.....cum, CUM!" Bob knew by now that his worst nightmare had come true....Catherine was sucking his best friend's cock....and worst of all she was clearing enjoying every minute of it. Yes, she'd given him head before...but she had never so wantonly talked about his "cock" and had never.
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