She giggled, "I know you're trying to hide this Thorpedo from me, swimmer-boy, but I've got a much better place you can bury your treasure."Ok, first,...this girl was entirely too horny for her own good. Second, she definitely had a bit of a thing for swimmers. I wasn't completely locked off from the world to remember that Thorpe guy from the summer Olympics they called 'The Thorpedo'. And third, I couldn't believe this young hottie wanted me to bury my 'treasure' inside her without the influence. Only on a couple of occasions, did I get to the beach, never bothering with towel, or clothes. The beach attracted a few more visitors this year, but its virtual inaccessability limited attendance to those few, who wanted to get away from the crowds at the nearby resorts. I did manage to find a couple of young gay guys, with whom I was able to enjoy myself behind a well-positioned sandhill. Females were entirely beyond reach.The morning for me to attend to my coffee-lovers, "sans-undies", had. So next day I get home from work Jessica knocks on my door to tell me thank you I ask her in we each had a beer she start telling me what was the fight about I explained its non of my business but express I wanna explain so I crack her a beer with mine sat and and listen. She said that been her boyfriend for 8 months and he is mad cause he wanted to take me to gang bang so she did for him and he got mad cause guys were paying to much attention to her blow job skills. I was sitting there just. She puts a hand to her chest. ‘Ros.’ she says, and then writes it down. ‘Row-z’ she says again, slowly, pronouncing it. The paper reads R-o-s-e. Now I understand, she doesn’t know the Gaelic pronunciations, and I can’t write in English. She needs me to tell her, slowly. ‘Los-ir’ I say, pointing to myself, and the name on the paper. She scribbles something underneath my name, probably the phonetic pronunciation. I point to my last name. ‘Oh Don-a-van.’ Another scribble. She does the same for.