Lana Banane extreme

Lana Banane extreme
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Being named Charles Brown automatically gives you some extra baggage to haul around. First of all, people just can't resist calling you Charlie. Then, of course, there's that annoying song. Let the record show that I have heard the line "why's everybody always picking on me?" approximately 10,000 times. It is no longer witty or funny.

The guy who drew the Peanuts comic strip, however, was both witty and funny. I just wished he'd named the kid with the big round head Johnny White or Jimmy Black. Despite all the extra grief it caused me, I loved that strip. Sometimes I thought the guy who drew it was following me around, just grabbing little pieces of my life.

How else would have known about my crush on the curly redheaded girl? She lived down by the river. Her folks had a big wooden fence around the property and a swimming pool. Her dad was some kind of doctor and they had money. My dad worked at a grocery store. Sometimes, in the summer, I'd wander down the riverbank and sneak up to that big fence. Looking through a knothole, I'd sometimes see Shirley swimming or playing around the pool. As much as I loved the sight, I never looked too long.

I was afraid I was going to get caught and sent to jail or something. Kids do some crazy things! I'm not a kid anymore. I'm Corporal Charles Brown, US Army Airborne, and a well-trained fighting machine.

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I hadn't even thought about that fence in years. Then, right before I shipped out, I took a walk and it all came back in a rush. What a rush! I generally like being home on leave, though I sometimes get bored. I'd been home almost two weeks. I was really bored. I decided to take a walk in the woods. The woods had been one of my favorite places as a kid.

It was smaller than I remembered it to be.


Before long, I came across the river. It wasn't much of a river at this time of year. They hadn't had much rain this summer.

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Some kids had knocked down a few dead trees to make a bridge. I crossed over and wandered along the riverbank.


It was a hot day but it felt good to be using my body again. I walked along the river for about ten minutes before I saw the fence. On a whim, I approached the fence using all my woodland stealth training. It was a fun little exercise, proving how quiet I could move on a wooded hill.

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When I reached the fence, I smiled at the knothole. It was a bit closer to the ground than I remembered. Crouching down I put an eye to the hole, for old time's sake. A jolt of electricity shot up my spine when I realized I was looking at Shirley! She was stretched out beside the pool in a chaise lounge, reading a book. Her black bikini didn't hide much of her shapely form.

She had nice round tits, not too big, not too small.

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Her long legs were still well muscled, her belly still flat and, yes, her red hair was still curly. I adjusted my crouch to a stable squat. She was, once again, the prettiest girl I ever saw. My awe struck crush came back to me in full force. When she put down the book and stretched her sleek body I watched her pussy mound press against the crotch of her bikini bottoms.

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She lay back down in the chair with her eyes closed and her legs spread. My childhood fears threatened to overwhelm me. I was just about to get going when her hand reached down and stroked her pussy mound through her bikini bottoms. I froze. She rubbed her mound a few times and then unhooked her bra. Her tits were white and round with delicate pink circles around her nipples.

I could feel the twinges between my legs and knew my cock was getting hard. She put a finger in her mouth and then put the wet finger on a nipple, rolling it around, making it swell into the size and shape of a pencil eraser. She wet her finger again and did the same with the other nipple. Her nipples weren't the only things getting swollen and hard, I began rubbing my crotch, feeling the stiff dick inside my pants. Keeping her left hand on her left tit, her right hand returned to her glorious mound.

She rubbed her bikini bottom again for a few moments and then slid her hand under the elastic. Her feet were flat on the pool deck as she pushed her cunt up to meet the invader. I quietly unzipped my pants and reached in to rub my hard cock. Looking back to the knothole I saw her fingers inside her bikini bottoms.

They were rhythmically rubbing her pussy as her other hand alternated kneading her pretty tits. Her eyes were still closed and a little smile was on her lips. Her fingers began to work faster between her legs and her lips parted a little as she began squirming in the lounger. My cock was still in my pants but I had my hand wrapped around it, giving it soft little jerks as I watched her body writhe. Impatiently, she lifted her hips and pushed the bikini bottoms down to her knees. Her pussy was fringed with a sparse forest of curly red hair.

Her pussy lips were pink and swollen with lust. Her right hand returned to her pussy while her legs worked the bikini bottoms down to her calves. Her whole hand was moving up and down her pretty pussy; sometimes I'd see her slip a finger inside her cunt.

Her hips were rocking. Her hand and pussy were dancing to an intense primal beat, insistent and driving, pushing her ever faster. Her mouth was now hung open, her head shaking side to side, even her neck muscles seemed to straining toward orgasm as she arched her entire body off of the chaise lounge and rode her frantically rubbing hand to a spastic, body jolting orgasm. I shot my load, right along with her, on the ground outside the fence. Zipping back up I quietly moved back down the hill before she could recover.

I'd always been afraid to talk to her and, somehow, that didn't seem to be the right time. Maybe I'll call her next time I'm home. Maybe she won't be seeing anyone.

Maybe I won't have to return to the knothole.