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  #11  
Old 01-Mar-18, 17:10
fred1951 fred1951 is offline
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Default Re: Greg, the lifeguard, and the red Speedo

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Originally Posted by andy857 [Only Registered Users Can See LinksClick Here To Register]
I have no problem with the age of the characters being under 18. This is just fantasy. It is not real.
I think the age of the characters should be up to the author. i think that boyandy is workingon another masterpiece . We should all enjoy his creativity.
You are right.It is no real story.It's just a fantasy and if somebody thinks the girls are too young then he or she must skip the story.
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  #12  
Old 02-Mar-18, 16:09
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Default Re: Greg, the lifeguard, and the red Speedo

Although Greg had told Amy he was going to call her in three weeks he couldn’t wait that long. In fact, the more he thought about her the more he wanted to call her. So he called her that night.

“Greg? What are you doing? It’s not my birthday yet!” Amy said when she answered. She had an unusually low voice for a girl. Greg felt a jolt just hearing her.

“I know. I…I… just wanted to say ‘Hi’ and it was great meeting you and I’m glad you don’t think I’m some kind of loser because you had to save me from drowning.”

“Not at all. Now I feel like a real lifeguard. I’ll save you anytime.”

“How many times are you allowed to save me in a week?”

She laughed. “Well if it happened every day it might look suspicious. You don’t want me to lose my job, do you?”

“No. I just wanted to experience mouth-to-mouth resuscitation with my eyes open.”

“Well, maybe you don’t have to be drowning for that. I might need to practice…”


He ended up calling her almost every night and sometimes they would talk for an hour or more. Usually they would just talk about their day, or people they knew, or music they liked. But as time went on they began to talk about deeper things – like thoughts and emotions.

After two weeks of this, one night Greg asked her what kind of exercises she did to look so strong and if she always been that strong. She laughed and said, “Boy, it seems like you want to know everything about me.”

“I do. I want to know every molecule. Have you ever had a boyfriend before?”

“No, not really. Just guy friends.”

“You park them in the friend zone?”

“You could say that. What about you?”

“I’ve never had a boyfriend either.”

She laughed. He loved to make her laugh. “You know what I mean.”

“Oh, girls… I get it. I theoretically had a girlfriend last year, but I don’t think either one of us knew how it was supposed to work, so we ended up arguing all the time.”

“Uh huh. And did you ever want to wrestle with her?”

“Oh, hell no.”

“Why not? Was she a pretty big girl, a toughie, face like a bull terrier? Were you afraid of her?”

He couldn’t help himself and laughed. “Not hardly. She didn’t like to do anything that messed up her hair.”

“Why didn’t you want to wrestle her?”

“I never really thought of her in that way. Or any girl.”

“Why do you think of me in that way?”

Greg thought it over. Amy was really making him examine himself a lot more than he ever had before. He said, “I never thought of wrestling a girl until I saw you in that newspaper photo. I could see how strong you looked and something inside me just went… I don’t know…” his voice trailed off.

“Was she a good kisser?”

“Now who’s getting personal? She was horrible. I hated every second. Are you?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t had much experience. I give pretty good mouth-to mouth resuscitation, though. How hard can kissing be compared to that?”

“Okay, here’s another personal question; why did you decide to buy that red Speedo?”

“You know, my mom didn’t want me to. She thought it was too bold but I made her buy it anyway.”

“Why?”

“You know what – I don’t want to sound like I think I’m all that. I don’t know if I should tell you.”

“Come on…”

“Well, okay. I had just seen that Baywatch movie, the one with The Rock? And I was in my bedroom standing in front of the mirror and I thought to myself - my figure is just as good as any of those girls – why can’t I wear a suit like that?”

Greg’s imagination had escaped from its cage and started running wild. “So you were standing in front of the mirror. Did you have another bathing suit on?”

She giggled. “You’re really getting personal now. I’m not telling you what I was wearing. Or not wearing.”

He tried desperately to visualize that. “And your figure was as good as those movie girls?”

“I Googled it, and my measurements were just as good. They were a little taller, but I might grow still. “

“So what are these measurements?” Greg knew he was going out on a limb asking that question, but he had to know.

They had been talking a while and over time her voice had dropped into a lower, more comfortable tone. It felt like she was whispering right into his ear. “I don’t know if I should tell you that. You might think I’m lying. Why don’t you take a guess?”

Almost hyperventilating, Greg looked at the photo from the newspaper. He sometimes pulled it out of his drawer and looked at while he talked to her. “I don’t want to make you mad if I’m way off. Like too big or too little.”

“Oh, come on. Take a guess.”

Greg took a deep breath and went into safety mode, “Okay. I’m thinking; 36-26-36.”

“Hey, pretty close, but I’m not telling you. My butt’s kind of big.”

Greg managed to get out a strangled “No it’s not – it’s perfect.”

She had an infectious, low-pitched laugh when she was on the phone with Greg. She felt very much at ease with him. Although he was two years older, he seemed to like her so much there was no reason to be uncomfortable. She laughed now. “Wow. You have a pretty high opinion of my butt. Thank you.”

“Yes, and I won’t have you talking about it that way,” Greg said. “Tell me the rest. How tall are you? How much do you weigh?”

“Okay, I see, you really do want to know everything about me. I’ll tell you what; I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours. You first.”

“Okay. I’m 5’10” tall and I weigh 165 pounds. My dad is six feet, so I’m hoping I’m hoping to catch up to the old man.”

“Not bad. You looked pretty good in your swimsuit. It’s so sad to see young people that are out of shape. All right, I’ll tell you mine- I’m 5’6” and I weigh 134 pounds. I work out a lot, do you?”

“Uh, yeah,” he exaggerated, “Probably not as much as I should, though.”

“I work out every day, either Yoga, or Pilates, or riding my bike, or weights. Maybe we can work out together.”

“Yeah, sure.” Greg was picturing her in yoga pants, her skin covered with a slight film of perspiration. “That’d be great.”

“Okay, now it’s my turn. Turnabout is fair play - you told me in the supermarket your bicep was as big as mine. How big is that, exactly?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, you have a measuring tape there don’t you? Go find out. I’ll wait.”

Greg blinked a moment and said, “Okay.” He put his phone down and went into the kitchen, rummaging through the junk drawer until he found the measuring tape. Glancing around to make sure nobody was looking, he fumbled around until he got a measurement of 13 ¼ inches. He went back to his room and picked up the phone.

“Here I am,” he said.

“Well, what is it, Hercules?”

“Thirteen and a half, Wonder Woman,” he said, fudging it a bit. What was a quarter-of-an-inch?

“See,” Amy said,” I told you mine was bigger. Mine is thirteen and three quarters.”

Greg stomach sank. She really did have bigger biceps than he did.

She somehow sensed his mood over the phone. “I thought you said it wouldn’t bother you if you dated a girl who had bigger muscles than you?”

He thought of how he could put into words how it made him feel, drawing his words out slowly. “The guy is always supposed to be bigger and stronger than the girl. Especially a younger one.”

“Oh, here we go,” she said, “I was afraid this was going to happen.”

“What do you mean?”

She sighed. “Okay, I’m going to tell you a story that kind of sums up my history. When I was in the fifth grade there was a boy down the street I’d known all my life. We were like best friends and we’d play together all the time. Then one day, we were in his backyard on the trampoline and started kind of wrestling around. We’d wrestled plenty of times before. Anyway, the next thing you know, I have him pinned and he’s getting all red-faced and yelling at me to let him up. I thought we were still playing and kept him down for a long time. Then, when I realized he was really mad, I let him up and he ran into the house crying.”

“Was it the first time he lost?”

“Heck no. I used to beat him all the time. Here’s the thing – he was in the seventh grade then. I guess he felt a fifth-grader shouldn’t have been able to beat him. Then his older brother, who was in the ninth grade, came out and started yelling at me and calling me horrible names.”

“What did you do?”

Her voice sounded grim. “Well, let’s just say he ran inside crying too.”

Greg’s eyes bugged out as he thought of a fifth-grade girl beating up a ninth-grader. Before he could say anything she continued with her story.

“Ever since that day he pretty much stopped talking to me and I lost my best friend. And he’s not the only one. I wrestled a couple of other boys and they did the same thing. Then in junior high word got around that I was a good arm wrestler and all these guys wanted to take me on. I never lost.”

“Never?”

“Never. I even beat my English teacher once. Most of the time it was all in fun, but sometimes the guys would get really mad, or embarrassed. Then they’d say things behind my back and be mean to me.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah, but you know what? I wasn’t about to quit trying to be strong. I liked being strong. My mom says that as I get older the guys will catch up to me, so we’ll see. In the meantime I’m going to keep working out.”

“You look awesome. I’m glad.”

Now there was a bit of an edge to her tone. “And that’s why it upsets me that, just because I might be stronger than you, maybe you won’t like me anymore. I knew that would happen.”

Greg wasn’t used to hearing her a little angry. She had always been so cute and funny. He wanted the cute Amy back, so he figured he’d better make things right in a hurry. “All right, here’s how it makes me feel. I’m going to be perfectly honest with you.” He took a deep breath. “I think it’s really, really cool that you’re strong. But I’m afraid you’ll lose all respect for me and won’t like me if I’m not as strong as you are, or your muscles are bigger. You’ll think I’m a wuss.” He exhaled, “There, I said it.”

“Awww… that’s sweet.”

There was that low, throaty voice again. Greg felt it rumble all the way down to his toes.

She said, “You don’t have to worry about that. I liked you from the first time I saw you. Can I tell you something else personal?” She lowered her voice as though afraid of being overheard. “I think it’s hot that you think my muscles are hot. You’re the first guy that’s ever said that.”

Greg hung on the line and they were quiet together, listening to each other breathe, thoughts whirling. Eventually he broke the silence.

“So, anyway… what do you want to do on your birthday? You figure it out yet?”

“Yes, tell me what you think; you can pick me up at noon and we can go to River Edge Park. It’s got some hiking trails and also some private, grassy meadows. I’ll bring a picnic basket and you can bring a blanket and something to drink. How does that sound?”

“Perfect! A private grassy area will be perfect for –“

“ – me to give you a beatdown,” she finished.

“Ohhh… here comes the trash talk. You’re sounding pretty cocky there.”

“I know what I know. I haven’t lost a wrestling match in three years.”

Greg tried to remember how many wrestling matches he’s had in the last three years. Not a lot. And he’d lost some, won some. He didn’t consider himself super-athletic, just basically normal. “You’ve never faced me,” he said, trying to sound just as cocky.

She chuckled. ”I like your attitude. It’s cute you still think you can beat me. Maybe we should place a little bet.”

“Like money?”

“Ummm… I don’t know. Maybe something like Truth or Dare.”

Greg liked the sound of that. “You’re on.”

“Okay,” she said in a sing-song voice, “You asked for it…” She cleared her throat, “Anyway, in the evening my parents are having a party for me and you’re invited.”

Greg gulped. “You want me to meet your parents?”

“Um Hm. They still think of me as an eighth-grader going out with a boy who can drive. I told them I’m a freshman now but they’re a little nervous. I had to remind them that my dad is five years older than my mom.”

“They think I’m too old for you?”

“Not really. It’s just that I’ve never really dated and they are just being parents.” Her voice suddenly rose up a pitch, a little excited, “You know what? Maybe I’ll wrestle you down in front of them so they can see I easily can handle you and they have nothing to fear.”

Greg paled and he croaked, “You… You what now?”

She laughed. “I’m just messing with you. Whatever happens in the park stays in the park.”

Greg sighed in relief, then tried to regain his cockiness, “Okay, I won’t tell anybody when I beat you.”

“I know you won’t. Because that would be a lie,” she laughed.


Her birthday was on a Sunday. Greg spent two hours in the bathroom making sure he didn’t smell bad or had hair in weird places. Then he got the car keys from his mom and drove over to Amy’s, his left leg jiggling nervously the entire time. Luckily, she didn’t live far. He pulled up in front of her house, a nice, spacious ranch on a quiet street, and walked up to the front door.

Amy burst out of the house met him halfway to the door, picnic basket in hand. She was wearing those cute white shorts again, a flowery cotton top, flip-flops and sunglasses. She looked like a movie star, Greg thought, even better than last time.

She stopped in front of him, looking him up and down, checking out his board shorts and T-shirt. “Yep, just the way I remembered,” she said, “It’s been a long three weeks.” She took his arm and tugged him towards the curb. “Come on, you can meet the parents later. I can’t wait to get to the park and start the beatdown. I’m going to show you some moves you never even imagined.”

They piled into his mom’s Camry and headed towards the park. It was about twenty minutes away and they chatted freely, as if they had just been talking on the phone. When they got there were only a few cars were in the parking lot. It was the end of summer, hot and dry. Most people wanted shade.

They hiked a little ways in until they found a green spot with a little shade well off the trail. “I’m disappointed,” Greg said as they were walking, “You promised me a Speedo!”

Amy bit her bottom lip, leaned towards him and pulled the front of her blouse down a little. Something red showed underneath. “I had to hide it from my mom. If she knew I was wearing this she would have had a lot of questions, like, ‘Why does Greg want you to wear that?’ I’m kind of wondering that myself. What’s the deal?”

Greg opened his mouth and closed it a couple of times. “It provides greater freedom of movement,” he finally got out, “I was only thinking of your comfort.”

“Yeah, right,” Amy said, slugging him on the arm.

They found a secluded spot and set up the picnic. “Here,” Greg said, offering her a Pepsi, “You better drink something. I don’t want you using dehydration as an excuse.”

“You think you’re going to make me work for my victory?” she said, with a gleam in her eye, “I don’t think I’ll even break a sweat.”

“You’re going down,” Greg said, “I’m going to drop you like a bad friend on Facebook.”

They faced each other as they slipped out of their outer clothing. All Greg had to do was take off his T-shirt and he was ready to go. He kept his eyes on Amy as she unbuttoned her blouse and slipped out of her shorts. It seemed to take an agonizingly long time. He was watching her every movement and she was watching his face as she finally revealed her Speedo and kicked her shorts aside. He wanted to hold that image of her in his mind forever, and knew he probably would.

“How are we going to do this?” Greg asked, “I’ve never wrestled with a girl before. I don’t want to hurt you or accidently grab some girl parts.”

Amy was shifting her weight from side to side, grinning up at him. “Don’t think of me as a girl,” she said, “think of me as a superhero.” And she pounced.

Greg knew he should have been expecting it but her speed wasn’t something he had even considered and it took him by surprise. She slammed into him chest-to-chest and threw her arms around him a bear hug.

“Hey! Sneak attack!” he said, his arms pinned to his side. He twisted his body from side to side enough that he managed to break her grip before she could lock her hands and push her away. He barely had time to turn around before she was on him again, trying to hop on his back. He escaped that too, barely, and realized he’d better never turn his back on her again or it would be over.

Amy began to slowly stalk him as they circled on the blanket, her elbows in, arms slightly spread. “Just tap out if you’re feeling too much pain. I don’t want to accidently hurt your boy parts,” she said.

“Very funny.” Greg found himself backing up slowly while he tried to form a game plan. His original plan was going to be to charge her, use his weight advantage to throw her down and sit on her, but it was beginning to look like she had other ideas. A backup plan probably would have been a good idea, he thought.

She feinted and when he fell for it she got his left arm by the wrist with both hands and twisted, forcing him to turn as she bent it up behind his back. Before she could release a hand and go for his neck he spun away.

“I almost had you,” she said, “This match would have been over if I’d gotten you in a choke.”

“Well, you didn’t. I forgot to tell you how cunning I am.” Greg warily tried to keep his eyes on her feet, now aware of her speed. He found it difficult with that Speedo right in front of him. It clung to her like Saran Wrap and showed very good muscle definition underneath. “That might have been your fatal mistake, Wonder Woman,” he said, going on the offensive and diving for her leg.

He caught her behind the knee and tugged it upwards but she was able to maintain her balance and hopped around on one leg while he tried to wrangle her off her feet. She wasn’t going for it.

“No you don’t,” she said, and hopped in closer to throw her arms around his neck in a headlock, “Look what I have here!”

Her arms around his neck were unbelievably tight but he refused to let go of her leg and she refused to let go of his neck, so they spun around a few times with neither gaining control. She finally tripped and fell, dragging Greg down by the neck onto the blanket, rolling a couple of times as they fought for position.

She tried to climb on top of him but he fought her off with his knees and pushed her back. She rose up on her knees and dove. This time he had half-turned and she didn’t get a good grip. He used his leg to push her sideways.

Then they were facing each other on the blanket lying on their sides. Greg concentrated on attempting to control her arms. They were flying all over the place and he didn’t want to give her the opportunity to try for another choke. He figured if he controlled her arms he controlled the match. “Hold still!” he said, but she just gave her trademark giggle and kept batting his hands away.

While he was focused on that Amy threw one of her legs over his, which went unnoticed. Then he caught one of her wrists. “Aha!” It was all he could do to hang on to it as her resistance increased. Then he caught the other wrist. “Got you!” he said triumphantly.

“Oh No!” Amy said, batting her eyes at him, “Whatever shall I do?”

“You’re gonna be sorry you mocked me now. You’re going to be needing a lifeguard in few seconds,” Greg panted. He brought both of her arms in, then proceeded to roll over on top of her, which was exactly what she wanted. She slipped her other leg outside of his and hooked the back of his knee with her heel, resting it there for a moment while she positioned her other leg.

He stared down at her inches away, the feeling of being in close contact with her almost overwhelming. Her blue eyes looked up innocently. Although they had only been at it a few minutes they were both already sweaty. She was offering surprisingly little resistance, puffing her cheeks out and blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes, smiling mischievously up at him.

“You can tap out now,” Greg told her.

“Did you really think it was going to be this easy?” she said, then, in a terrible Cuban accent, said “Let me eentroduce you to my leetle frien’ - Senor Grapevine!” Swiftly, she kicked her ankles back and Greg howled.

“Holy crap!” Greg yelled. The inside of his thighs were streaked with agony. He let go of her hands and rose up off her torso, placing his on the ground on either side of her so he could try to get on all fours and break her hold, which he was now experiencing for the first time in his life. “How are you doing that? You’re splitting me in half! It hurts like a motherf---“ He yowled again before he could finish.

“Ah-Ah,” she said, “I have tender ears. I’m afraid I must insist you not use words like motherfucker around a delicate flower such as myself.” She now seized his wrists.

Before he could rear back she threw all of her weight to the side and it caught him unawares and they went over sideways.

“Son-of-a----“ Greg yelled as she forced him onto his back, her strength really showing itself now. He was bucking and fighting as much as he could with his upper body but she was remorseless.

Now Amy was lying on top and their position reversed. She had maintained the grapevine as they rolled and gave her ankles a tug, spreading his knees and turning his shout into a yelp.

“Were you about to say son-of-a-bitch? Such language! What did I just say about me being a delicate flower?” she said, as she took his wrists and slammed them to the ground.

Greg was moaning and turning his head from side-to-side, “What in god’s name are you doing to my legs? It’s killing me!”

It was her turn to experience what it felt like to have him trapped underneath her and she liked it. He was trying to throw her off but without the use of his legs it was not going to happen and they both knew it. She lowered her face over his until their noses touched. “Oh, it’s not killing you. I’m killing you.” She gave him an evil grin and flexed her ankles again and another yell broke out.

“Man oh man,” Greg said as she eased up slightly. Panting heavily he said “What invention of the devil is that hold? I’ve never felt anything so painful in my life.”

Amy made a rueful, fake-pity face. “I told you three weeks ago to start working on your wrestling skills. But noooo… you had to waste your time talking on the phone to some girl every night.”

“That girl was you!”

“Oh, that’s right. In that case I forgive you. But I’m still not letting you up.”
She gave another tug and watched him howl again. “This is fun,” she said, firmly in command and enjoying the feeling of control over his body.

Despite the pain, Greg gave an agonized chuckle. “What you are doing to my legs right now is so incredibly painful all I can do is laugh. How the hell did I get in this situation?”

“Don’t forget about your arms,” she told him, “They probably hurt too. I have you completely pinned like a little bug in a display case.”

“Thanks for reminding me.”

“Like a little Monarch butterfly in the Natural History Museum.”

“I get it.”

They lay there for a moment catching their breath. Greg squirmed a few times but the weight of her hands on his wrists and the strength of her grip was astounding. The way she had mounted him really did make him feel like an insect. She was lying on him in a way that left him no wiggle room and no room for escape.

“What now?” he finally said.

“Remember? You have to tap out.”

“How can I tap out when you have my arms pinned?”

“Hmmm… that is a dilemma. I’m going to have to think about that for a while.” She flexed her ankles again and was gratified by his yelp.

Greg knew he should have been mortified that a 14-year-old girl was so easily in control of him, but right at that moment, looking over at her smooth tanned arms and the way she filled out the Speedo – pain or no pain, he felt pretty damn good. Really damn good, as a matter of fact.

“It looks like I’m your prisoner,” he said. “But I’m warning you - the Geneva Convention prohibits torture. You have to be merciful.”

“Oh, I am being merciful. I could be doing a lot worse things to you.”

“Like what?”

“I could make you suffer terribly.”

“I don’t believe you. Demonstrate.”

She had eased up on administering pain but still held him without leaving him hope of escape. She felt incredible. To have him underneath her, helpless, elated her. She lowered her head and rubbed noses with him. “Have you ever heard of the most hideous, excruciating thing a girl can do to a guy; something that can rob him of his very will to live? Something so cruel it’s been only whispered about?”

“What is it?”

“A little something called---FORCED KISSING!”

His eyebrows shot up in mock terror. “No! You wouldn’t dare! What are you – some kind of monster?”

“You have no idea what I’m capable of,” she whispered as she pressed her mouth onto his and held it, teasing her tongue into his mouth, and luxuriating in the surrender she felt in his kiss.
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  #13  
Old 04-Mar-18, 05:53
Sicod79 Sicod79 is offline
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Default Re: Greg, the lifeguard, and the red Speedo

Such horrific torture.

I hope this kids can make it!
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Old 06-Mar-18, 08:01
Alexios Alexios is offline
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Default Re: Greg, the lifeguard, and the red Speedo

Enjoying this. (I don't have an issue with the ages since they're both teens with only two years plus change different in age. If the gap was wider or one was over-age and the other not or Amy was any younger I'd have issues but this is fine in my opinion.)

I like how Amy is dominant but in a playful manner. Their relationship is off to a good start with him accepting that she's stronger than him but she's not letting the power go to her head. Hopefully it will stay that way.

Looking forward to seeing where you go with this.
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Old 14-Mar-18, 20:14
andy857 andy857 is offline
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Default Re: Greg, the lifeguard, and the red Speedo

Looking forward to more wrestling and muscle domination from Amy.
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Old 20-Mar-18, 14:08
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Default Re: Greg, the lifeguard, and the red Speedo

After what seemed like hours of kissing, Amy pulled her head back and looked into Greg's eyes. He was panting, nearly breathless, and it made her smile. He was totally hers.

“I can’t believe you never saw a grapevine hold before,” she said.

“I’ve only wrestled around with my buddies. I’m not about to say; ‘Hey, you want to rub crotches together and see if we can trap each other’s legs?’ It’s not natural.”

"You may have a point. Anyway, I think we need to stop kissing now," she said, "I have a feeling you're a little too excited."

"There's no such thing," Greg said, lifting his head up trying to kiss her.

She shifted her hips a little. "I'm not ready for whatever is happening down there," she said. "Something fishy is going on in those shorts."

He flushed and sighed. “All right.”

“I’m going to let you out of the grapevine now. Don’t try anything funny.” She unhooked her legs from his.

He moaned in relief but it was short-lived. Before he could move she pulled his arms down next to his side and scooted up onto his chest, clamping him with her knees. Now he was laid out like a corpse while she rested comfortably on top.

“Ha Ha! Fooled you – you’re still in Amy jail.”

"Oh, man! I thought I was free for a minute. How long are you going to keep me here?"

She wriggled her bottom a little, enjoying his reaction. "I like having you as my prisoner. You are mine to command..." She leaned down nose-to-nose. "You like it too, I can tell. That's hot."

He grimaced reluctantly, a little embarrassed that she was right, then changed the subject. "You know, even prisoners get food."

"All right. I'm hungry too." She leaned over and dragged the picnic basket closer, rummaging inside. She pulled out a two baggies with sandwiches. "I'm a good cook," she said, "You want a PB& J, or a PB&J?"

"Hmmm… how about a PB&J?"

She peeled the baggie off and took a big bite of the sandwich. "Ummm... this is so good..." She made a big show out of her enjoying the sandwich.

"You're seriously not going to let me up? You're going to eat that right in front of me?"

She chewed thoughtfully.“Well, I did promise you mercy. Here, open wide."

He opened his mouth as she stuffed the sandwich in. "This is too much," he said with his mouth full, gagging a little,"You can't feed me like a little baby."

"Watch me," she said, as she shoved more sandwich into his mouth. It felt so good sitting on top of him she had to laugh, and the more he struggled the better she liked it. She took the opportunity to rub peanut butter all over his mouth, giggling at his agitated squawks.

"I need something to drink. Let me up," he complained.

"Here." She reached into the basket and pulled out a can of pop, pulling the tab in a fizz. Then she positioned it over his mouth. "I've never done this before, you better really open wide." She tilted the can and a thin stream of cola trickled down.

"Hey! Wait!" Greg's protests were too late as she inadvertently poured it over most of his face, giggling like mad as he squirmed. "For Christ’s sake," he sputtered, “are you trying to drown me?”

"Oops," she said, "That didn't work out too well. “ She got a couple of napkins and cleaned him up, kissing away the last vestiges on his chin.

"You know, if you weren't so cute..."

"What?" she said impudently, “What would you do?"

"I'd study karate for a few years then come back for my revenge."

"You better start right away if you want to beat me. I own you. You want a cookie?"

"Hell yeah. Who doesn't want a cookie?"

She pulled out a bag of chocolate chips. "Have you seen those videos where people train their dogs to wait for a dog biscuit by balancing it on their nose first?"

"Okay, now just a minute..."

She balanced a cookie on the tip of his nose, laughing as he looked at it cross-eyed. "Now be a good boy and wait for my command."

"Where did this mean streak come from?" He eyed the cookie and tried reaching it with his tongue.

"Down, boy! I didn't say you could have it yet!"

She fed him more cookies and soon had him barking. She thought it was hilarious. Then she got a more serious look in her eye and leaned over him. “I like the feeling of control I have over you. My mom said teenage boys are dangerously horny, but you’ve been a good boy. Now we have a party to go to. Are you ready to meet my family?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No. Let’s go.”

They packed up and headed back to the car holding hands. Greg dropped her off at her house and headed home to shower and change.


A couple of hours later Greg arrived back at her house to see the party was well underway. She had texted him to come around to the side gate so he followed a brick path to the back yard. It was full of friends and family, with kids and dogs running loose, music playing, and groups of people scattered around the patio. Amy met at the gate and led him over to where her dad was grilling.

He looked like every dad in America, wearing a Jimmy Buffet T-shirt, cargo shorts, and wielding a spatula as he stood in front of a gas grill that sizzled with the grease of a dozen hamburgers. He was average-sized and Greg was relieved to notice he seemed relaxed and friendly.

“Daddy, this is Greg,” Amy said.

Her dad held out a fist and said, “Pound the rock, big guy. You being nice to my daughter?”

Greg fist-bumped him and said, “Yes sir.”

Her dad gave a passable Matthew McConaughey impersonation, “Alright Alright Alright… how do you like your burgers?”

Amy said, “It doesn’t matter. You only make burned ones.”

Her dad shook his spatula at her. “Just for that, you’re getting a hockey puck.”

Amy took Greg’s hand and said, “Come on, let’s go meet my mom.”

They wove their way through the back yard and patio and went inside the house. Through the dining room and into the kitchen they found Amy’s mom at the kitchen countertop with her back to them making a salad.

“Mom, Greg’s here,” Amy called out.

Amy’s mom turned around and Greg was almost rendered speechless. The first thing that struck him was that she bore an uncanny likeness to her daughter, so much so that they could have been sisters. She looked to be in her mid-to-late thirties and had the same coloring, the same eyes, and the same athletic build. The second thing that struck him was that she was six feet tall.

Amy’s mom wiped her hands on a dishtowel and reached her hand out to greet Greg with a handshake. “Hello Greg. Amy’s told me such nice things about you.”

Somewhat dazed he reached his own hand out and was immediately engulfed by her hand. She was a big woman, not fat at all, but with big bone structure and solid arms and legs. Not to mention big breasts and hips. Greg figured she easily outweighed him and he felt like a wimp standing next to her. That feeling was only amplified by the fact that she was crushing his hand.

Greg strove to remain stoic as he felt his knuckles being ground together. He couldn’t tell if she realized she was destroying his hand. She wore a pleasant expression and didn’t seem to be exerting any effort. Greg squeezed back as hard as he could to try to neutralize her grip. It made no difference.

“Nice to meet you,” he croaked.

“I have to admit I was worried when Amy told me she was going out with a sixteen-year-old. I was afraid she might be taken advantage of because she’s so young. But you don’t look like you’re that type of boy.”

“Mom!” Amy complained, “You said you weren’t going to give him the third degree.”

Greg shook his head. “I’m not him. I mean, I don’t take advantages.” He was trying not to cry out like a little girl. Her grip was so powerful!

Amy’s mom smiled. “Of course not. You seem just as nice as Amy said.” She finally released his hand and Greg almost whimpered in relief. “Amy, why don’t you finish introducing him around and I’ll finish the salad.”

“Okay mom. Come on Greg.” They headed back outside as Greg wiggled his fingers to restore circulation
.
“Wow, your mom is ---“

“Really tall?” Amy finished. “Everybody says that when they first meet her. She told me she was my height until her sophomore year and she hit a growth spurt and grew six inches in fifteen months.”

They were outside now and Greg was in a whirl, absent-mindedly shaking hands with a few more people while he tried to imagine Amy growing another six inches. Then Amy led him over to a group of older people sitting off to the side.

“Grandma, this is the boy I was telling you about,” Amy said to a fiftyish lady with sleek gray hair. She was very striking and she too looked a lot like Amy. She stood up and extended a hand to Greg. She was easily six feet tall. Greg was rendered nearly speechless as she took his hand and effortlessly crushed his knuckles.

“How nice. Amy told me you were handsome.”

“Grandma!”

Amy’s grandma leaned in a little so only Greg could hear her, “I never trusted handsome boys.” She gave his hand a final squeeze and released him.

“Nice meeting you,” Greg said, feeling her eyes follow him as Amy led him away.

“Well, that’s the fam,” Amy said, “What do you think?”

Greg didn’t know what to think.
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  #17  
Old 20-Mar-18, 15:24
Pottsville Pottsville is offline
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Default Re: Greg, the lifeguard, and the red Speedo

Hope there is more to come..great story
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Old 20-Mar-18, 16:38
HermanDG HermanDG is offline
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Default Re: Greg, the lifeguard, and the red Speedo

Really great work...
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Old 21-Mar-18, 07:34
james james is offline
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Default Re: Greg, the lifeguard, and the red Speedo

Great story so far!
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Old 21-Mar-18, 08:05
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mixfightor mixfightor is offline
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Default Re: Greg, the lifeguard, and the red Speedo

He better be a good boy, because there are three generations of women in that family who could discipline him. Thanks for continuing this, mate. Learning more about Amy is always a lot of fun, as is her love of controlling Greg. The red speedo is a wonderful bonus.
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