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This is my entry for Summer Lovin’ 2020. It’s set in 2019 for two reasons: 1) I wrote it last year in hopes of submitting it for Summer Lovin’ 2019; 2) It wouldn’t be the same were it set in 2020 amid the coronavirus mess.
I didn’t publish it last year because it’s my first attempt at writing an interracial story and I wanted to check some parts by Black people before publishing it. I’ve spent most of the past year seeking Black people to check the parts where I depict the usage of African American Vernacular English. I’ve asked people I know, I’ve asked Literotica editors who claim to be able to edit interracial stories, I even asked an old English professor who said he’d been trained in AAVE; it was all to no avail. So, figuring that searching for editors for another year will be as fruitless as it was this year, I decided to publish it without getting it edited. I have done my best, as a White man who has been around Black people quite a bit in his life, to write AAVE as accurately as possible.
I’ve been asked, “Why write about Black people when you’re not Black?” Two reasons: 1) The inspiration for this story was a Black woman I saw on the beach many years ago; 2) The world is not all White just because I am.
This being the case, I ask that if you have any specific problems with my usage of AAVE, you not low-score the story; rather, message me with the nature of the problems and I will edit the story if need be. If you’re going to score it low, do so because you’d think it stinks even if all characters were White. It cannot be said that I didn’t turn all available stones in the endeavor to make sure I represented Black people as accurately as I can, given their roles in this story.
As is the case with all of my stories, the female ingenue is a BBW, so if you aren’t into big women, you probably won’t like this story. Also, it’s kind of long, but if you’re into character development and a multifaceted story, you won’t be disappointed.
Enjoy!
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Belmar, New Jersey, July 2019
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The rumbling sound outside got louder and louder until it was clear that the sound was a car engine. The car pulled into the driveway of the vacation house that Ray and his friends had rented, and within a couple of seconds the sound stopped.
“Sharkey’s here!” Ray yelled to Bud upon seeing the blue Mustang in the driveway.
“Yeah, just got a text from Big. He’s still a few minutes out,” Bud yelled back.
“As usual.”
Ray Bennett and Corey “Bud” Weiser had been sharing an apartment in Middletown for two years. Friends since sophomore year of high school, they agreed to get a place together when they were 22 and felt they could afford it. New Jersey was outrageously expensive, but Middletown was one of those towns where bargains could still be found if you looked in the right place.
Ray did construction and had started before graduating high school. He had worked up to being a crew foreman, and he always joked that it “beat bangin’ nails” even though he still did the grunt work when he had to. He’d give you the shirt off of his back, partially because he was a nice guy and partially because he knew you’d stare at his muscle definition once he was shirtless. Even nice guys are still guys at heart, and every 24-year-old guy with defined muscles wants people to look at him.
From Ray’s perspective, the muscles were a peacekeeper. Nobody was going to mess with someone his size who looked like he did, and he figured that’d keep him out of jail. His friends called him “Nails”, because back in ’14 he’d gotten shot with a nail gun by accident and the nail barely nicked the bone that stopped it. That gave him the reputation of being tougher than nails, so “Nails” it was.
Bud worked in information technology for the Middletown government. He’d gotten his associate’s degree from Brookdale Community College, and while to an outside observer it would seem that he was the intellectual while Ray was the meathead, they had more in common than their disparate professions would suggest.
“ALL RIGHT! LET’S GET THIS PARTY STARTED!” yelled Bruce Sharkey as he barged through the front door. “Sharkey” had been friends with Ray and Bud since freshman year of high school, and he still lived with his parents. They were rich and had a huge house, and they didn’t seem anxious to kick him out, so he had a pretty nice situation for still living with his parents. Sharkey worked as a security guard. He wanted to be a police officer but was told by a police academy recruiter that he would have to lose at least 50 pounds in order to qualify for police academy. He was already down just over 20 pounds, but that had taken him two years.
Sharkey dropped the case of Bud Ice onto the floor so that it would make a louder thunk sound than it had to. Ray looked in that direction. “Hey, Sharkey. What’d you get?” he asked.
“Bud Ice.”
“Aww, yeah! Toss me one of those!”
“It ain’t bağdatcaddesi escort cold.”
“You dumbass! Who buys warm beer?”
“They were all out of cold cases of Bud Ice!” said Sharkey.
“You could’ve gotten something else!”
“Name me one beer that’s stronger than Bud Ice.”
Ray thought for a couple of seconds and came up empty. “Fuck. Well, fine, toss me one anyway.”
“Where’s Big?” asked Sharkey as he threw a can, underhand, to Ray.
“Late, as usual,” said Bud. “Now are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna toss me one of those beers too?”
“Get your own beer. I gotta piss. Where’s the bathroom?” asked Sharkey.
Bud stayed silent. Sharkey looked at Ray, Bud glared at Ray, and Ray, understanding the signal, stayed silent.
“Fuck you! Fine, here’s your beer,” said Sharkey, before bending over, extracting another beer from the case, and lobbing it to Bud.
“Bathroom’s upstairs to the left,” said Bud after catching the beer.
Sharkey went upstairs. When he had only a couple of stairs to go, Bud called after him, “Make sure you get it all in the toilet!”
“I ain’t missed yet!”
“That’s ’cause he sits to pee,” Bud said softly to Ray.
“Fuck you! I heard that!” said Sharkey as he closed the bathroom door.
The gang was in Belmar for two weeks at the beach. They had all gone in on renting a three-bedroom house two blocks from the ocean. They had planned this vacation for months and had all managed to get the same two weeks off from work. Ray was happy not to have to sweat buckets in the heat and humidity of a central New Jersey mid-July.
Ray had all of the big stuff in his truck – tables, chairs, coolers, tiki torches, etc. Bud drove a Nissan Versa and couldn’t fit anywhere near as much in it, but he did have the duffel bags full of clothing and a tote with food from their place. They went outside and brought another load of stuff into the house.
Sharkey came downstairs as they were heading to their vehicles to get another load. He was wearing a black tank top that he didn’t have on before. It said, in large white letters, “NO FAT CHICKS”.
“Dude, you’re an asshole. Take that fuckin’ shirt off!” said Ray.
Sharkey laughed. “Still hopin’ to get lucky, huh, Nails?”
“Yeah, we all are, and you know I fuckin’ hate that shirt. Change into something else before I rip it off and choke you with it.”
“Just wanted to piss you off. You know I’m not gonna wear this,” said Sharkey.
Sharkey was at least 30 pounds overweight on his five foot ten inch frame, and he always chased the thinnest girls he could find. That was his thing. He found that there weren’t too many girls of that type who liked guys who looked like him, so he only had a couple of girlfriends in his life.
Ray’s “thing” was big girls. He was, by society’s general standard, a really good-looking guy. He stood six foot three and weighed 225 pounds, but it was mostly muscle. His work kept him in good shape and he went to the gym regularly. He never lacked for female attention, but he often found the attention overwhelming and frustrating. He didn’t like constantly being hounded by girls he wasn’t attracted to, and many times he found himself in the unenviable position of having to let a girl down while avoiding telling her that the reason why was because he wasn’t attracted to her. Occasionally the girl would get mad at him and show him more than he wanted to see of the “fury of a woman scorned”, and he’d just have to take it, knowing that telling her the truth would only make things worse.
Ray hadn’t had much luck with the girls to whom he was attracted. He found that it was difficult to approach many of them, since they tended to look at him with expressions of disbelief if ever it became obvious that he was flirting with them. He’d had four girlfriends, one of whom he dated for almost six months, but the relationships always fell apart for some reason that related to the girls feeling like he was out of their league.
It also didn’t help that Ray always had to catch crap from various people, including Sharkey, about how he could “do so much better than fat chicks”. Nobody initially believed him when he told them that he actually preferred “fat chicks”, and it even took Sharkey a couple of years to believe it. That didn’t stop Sharkey from needling Ray about it occasionally.
Sharkey took the tank top off and threw it in a pile on the floor. “One of these days, Nails, I’m gonna get you a girl with a nice ass,” he said as he put on the shirt he’d been wearing before.
“You had things your way, you’d get me a girl with no ass.”
“Dude, Heather had a nice ass.”
“No, dude, Heather had no ass,” said Ray in reference to the petite girl Sharkey tried to get with just after Christmas, who made it clear that she preferred Ray, much to Sharkey’s chagrin and Ray’s frustration. “Her whole ass coulda fit in one of my pant legs.”
“Bud, beykoz escort is this gonna be the time you finally get laid?” asked Sharkey, ignoring Ray’s response.
“You just worry about yourself, Sharkey. I’ll take care of myself,” said Bud.
“Yeah, you will, with Palm-ela Hand-erson! That wasn’t what I meant!” said Sharkey, in an exaggerated fashion, as he bent over to get a beer from the open case on the floor.
“You’re in rare form today, Sharkey,” said Ray.
“This is gonna be a kickass couple of weeks!” said Sharkey, with a little too much enthusiasm, as he opened his beer can – fshhcluk.
Ray sniffed in front of Sharkey’s face. “What the fuck?” asked Sharkey.
“Just wanted to see if you’ve been pre-gaming,” said Ray.
“Not one drop, dude… until now,” said Sharkey, raising his can. He put it to his mouth and drained a huge gulp of beer.
Just then, Big drove up. “Big’s here,” said Ray.
Ted “Big” Johnson was the odd man out in this group, from outside appearances anyway. He was a musician and had long, dyed-black hair. True to form, he was a bit on the “emo” side, but not so much that he couldn’t get along with the other three guys. They’d all been tight since high school. Big worked as a barista at Starbucks because he figured that was a place where he could meet people who would help advance his musical career. He played lead guitar in a hard rock band called Razor Pointer.
“BIIIIIIIG JOHNSAHHHHHHHHHN!” yelled Sharkey, standing in the front doorway, as Big got out of his car.
“Lemme guess, there’s no beer left!” yelled Big.
“Nah, we still got a couple!” yelled Sharkey after draining another huge gulp.
Big drove a black Dodge Magnum. He said he wanted something big enough to fit his gear, that was actually cool. He went around to the back of the car, opened the hatch, and came back into view holding a case of beer. “Well, we got more now. Like ten cases,” said Big.
“That’s cool,” said Sharkey, strangely displaying no excitement.
It took only a second for Big to figure out Sharkey’s reaction. “It’s gonna get skunked if it sits in there for a long time, and I ain’t haulin’ it all inside.”
“Fine, you big baby,” said Sharkey as he went out toward Big’s car.
Ray and Bud followed, and within three trips, all of the beer had been transferred inside. Big was tasked with getting the beer because he lived just down the street from a liquor store, and they all figured beer would be cheaper at that place than it would be in July in a beach town.
When they were all inside, Sharkey flattened his empty beer can with his foot, grabbed another beer, opened it, and began chugging.
“Come up for a breath every now and then, dude!” said Bud, after a few seconds.
“Ahhhh… good stuff,” said Sharkey as he sucked down the last of his second beer.
Ray took another sip. “Yeah, it is,” he said.
BURRRRRRRRRRRRRP! went Sharkey after he straightened up from having grabbed two more beers from the case on the floor.
“Nice one, Sharkey,” said Big, with a hint of a smile.
“WOOOO!” yelled Sharkey. He tossed one of the beers to Big and said, “Here’s to your health, Big Johnson!”
Ray had to smile. Sharkey had rough edges but he made pretty much everyone around him that much happier just by being his uncouth self. Ray remembered the first time Sharkey got drunk, and he went out into the street with Big. He yelled out in barely intelligible words, “THIS IS BIG JOHNSON! I HAVE A BIG JOHNSON TOO! CHECK IT OUT!” and then he pulled down his pants. Big tried to stop him but Sharkey’s size advantage meant that Big couldn’t do much. Someone called the cops and Sharkey spent that night in jail to sober up. Fortunately they only gave him a slap on the wrist. For every time Ray wished Sharkey had instead gotten a kick in the ass, there were two times when he was secretly glad that Sharkey always managed to joke his way out of trouble.
Big and Bud sipped their beers slowly. Ray stopped at one because he didn’t want to be drunk that early in the day. They all knew they’d have to keep an eye on Sharkey, especially when he finished his third beer incomprehensibly quickly.
“You guys want to go to the beach or eat?” asked Ray.
They all said that they’d eaten recently, so they agreed to go to the beach. They changed into their beach clothes, and started putting sunscreen on each other. Sharkey and Big put sunscreen on each other’s backs and when it was Sharkey’s turn to put sunscreen on Big, he started and then said, “You know, Big, this does something to me” with a comical lisp in his voice.
“You want that sunscreen shoved up your ass?” asked Big.
“Oooo yes, I think I would!” said Sharkey with the same lisp.
“You need to get laid,” said Big.
When everyone was fully covered in sunscreen and had their sunglasses on, Sharkey and Big each grabbed two beach chairs. Ray picked up the cooler, caddebostan escort and Bud took the towels and umbrellas. The cooler had mostly beer in it, and of course the beach had signs that said, “no alcohol”, but everyone brought alcohol anyway and there seemed to be no enforcement of the rule as long as nobody became a rowdy drunk.
Sharkey came up with the idea that they should all go in on a bet to see whose summer vacation turned out to be the craziest. They’d all commit $50 to the bet and then at the end of the two weeks, they’d vote for whose vacation had been the craziest, and they couldn’t vote for themselves. All of the guys agreed to this, so the person whose vacation was deemed the craziest stood to come out $150 ahead.
Belmar required that you show a “beach badge” in order to access the beach. Everything in New Jersey was expensive. Fortunately, the group had arranged for this in advance and they already had their beach badges. They found a spot that didn’t look too crowded, set everything up, and settled in. Of course, Sharkey immediately went for another beer.
“Don’t get too lit up, Sharkey; they’ll kick us out!” said Ray.
“You don’t trust me after all these years?” asked Sharkey.
Ray just glared at him.
The four guys sat for the better part of a half hour, mostly watching the strangers who were walking back and forth across the sun-baked sand. Sharkey pointed out several girls he’d have loved to bone, and after the sixth one, Ray said, “What stops you from introducing yourself?”
“She probably wouldn’t want me,” said Sharkey, suddenly using a serious tone.
“You’ll never know unless you try,” said Ray.
“Yeah, well… maybe later.”
Ray rolled his eyes.
Fifteen minutes and one more beer later, Sharkey suddenly pointed and blurted out, “NAILS! Dude, your dream girl is over there! Look!”
Ray looked in the same direction and what he saw gave him more than a little excitement. Walking slowly across the beach, about 40 feet in front of him, was one of the sexiest women he’d ever seen; perhaps the sexiest woman he’d ever seen. She looked to be almost six feet tall and well over 300 pounds. Most of her milk chocolate colored skin was visible because she was wearing a red and black striped bikini. She had a large belly that hung down a little bit, and an ass that was, by just a small margin, the widest part of her body. Her breasts were huge but didn’t stick out quite as far as her belly did. She seemed to hug the line between apple-shaped and pear-shaped. Her curly black hair was bunched up into a poofy ponytail.
She was walking with two other girls who were both white; one was a blonde and one was a brunette. The other girls were several inches shorter and both were thin. They wore bikinis too, and there appeared to be no men tagging along with their group.
“Damn,” said Ray.
“Well go up there! What stops you from introducing yourself?” asked Sharkey, using a mocking tone for his repetition of the question Ray had just asked him minutes ago.
“Ehh, she probably wouldn’t trust me. You know how it always seems to be.”
“She’s wearing a fucking bikini. Most of the chicks you like wear a one-piece. She might be different. You’ll never know unless you try!”
“That’s pretty deep for having five beers in you, Sharkey. Usually you’d have me chase some hundred-pound chick like the other two with her.”
“Fuck that; I’m taking the blonde. Now get off your ass, dude!” said Sharkey.
“I knew there had to be something in it for you,” said Ray as he got up.
Sharkey told Big and Bud to follow, and they got up. The four guys walked toward the three girls as a group.
“Dude, you start,” said Sharkey to Ray.
They approached the group of girls, who noticed their approach before any of the guys said anything. The blonde girl looked apprehensive as they approached, while the other two had neutral expressions.
“Hey,” said Ray.
“Hey,” said the black girl and the brunette at the same time.
“Well, I only saw you just now, so I didn’t have time to come up with a good line, but… how are you ladies doing today?” asked Ray, somewhat awkwardly, knowing that with his appearance it was all too easy to look like a meathead on the prowl if he weren’t careful.
“Umm… fine,” said the blonde.
“Well, that’s good. I’m Ray, and these are my friends,” said Ray. He pointed to each of the other three guys, one at a time, while saying, “Bruce, Corey, and Ted.”
The blonde said, “Y-yeah, well,” and then the black girl interrupted. “Yeah well what?” Turning her face back toward the men, she said, “I’m Joanne, this is Erica, and ‘Yeah-well’ isn’t ‘Yeah-well’. She’s actually Kate.”
Ray smiled. Joanne had a sense of humor and seemed unfazed by the approach of the group of guys, even though they outnumbered the girls.
Sharkey said, “‘Yeah-well’. I like that. Well, hi, Yeah-well, we have our nicknames too. I’m Sharkey, this is Nails, that’s Bud, and that’s Big,” pointing to each of the other three guys toward the end. He wasted no time snagging the first opportunity he could see, in his half-drunken state, to flirt with Kate. He wasn’t paying attention to her standoffish attitude.
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