A pier is a platform from which to swim, launch a boat, or even fish when you’re too lazy to row the boat out into the lake. Fishing from the pier is good for when you don’t have the time or the energy, or even the desire, to go to where the fish probably are waiting for dinner/breakfast, whatever it is they wait for.

My pier is 18 feet long and three feet wide. Large 2X6 stringers with planks nailed between, and over the top of a third board. Three six foot sections, and two platforms that set on the shallow bottom of the lake. The shore supports the other end. Boat tied to the right side of the end section.

Let’s kill the suspense: my dick got a good workout at the end of the pier. If there were an Olympic category for that sort of thing, I might have qualified for the next Summer Games.
Maybe even for the next Winter Games too?

It was the end of a long, hot, boring day in the middle of the week. I was trying to cool down, cool off. An hour of casting would accomplish that. I wasn’t looking to catch anything. I had a lot on my mind, but I didn’t want to think about any of it very seriously. Casting the hook and bobber out 30 feet, watching it float without anything happening for five minutes, reeling it in, repeating the previous steps 15 or 20 times was ideal. Good way to relax. I didn’t even have to worry about getting fish on my clothes.

I heard a car. Not too unusual lately. People stopping for directions. Apparently if you bear right at the curve about a quarter mile up the road you’ll come to a nice picnic and swimming area. Around the point from where you end up if you bear left back at the curve: my property.

I didn’t look up when I heard the car shut off. If it wasn’t a tourist, then I’d handle whatever, whoever and continue my fishing. If that’s what you want to call it.

I heard footsteps on the pier. At the five-feet-from-the-shore end.

“Can I help you?” I said, without turning around.

There was no answer but the continued sound of footsteps.

A shadow cast over me and into the water, where my feet were dangling in the cool flat calm of the lake. Between my feet and stretching out 25 feet was the fishing line, ending with the bobber sitting motionless, the hook hanging somewhere below.
It was a shapely figure in shadow, and as I watched, it leaned over and removed its shoes.
From a whiff of perfume I knew the figure was a woman.

“Do you mind?” a voice said.

Thinking that this woman needed something from my tackle box, sitting in the boat, I said
“Go right ahead.”

“I don’t do head” she said, stepping over and turning toward me. Her feet stood on the edge of the pier, heels out.

I looked up at her. She had honey-blonde hair and she was tall. Perhaps 5′10″. She had bright blue eyes and a moderately-sized busom. She wore a pink sun dress with straps coming down over her tan shoulders.
She crouched until her hand could reach my pants, and she nimbly unzipped me, pulled my cock out and stood up again.

She lifted the hem of her dress up and I saw she wore no panies and that the rug matched the drapes as they say. A well-trimmed pussy descended and surrounded my cock. Her hands grasped the stand at the end of the pier to prevent her from falling in, and to guide her up and down on my pole.

“I’m Debbie,” she said. She was a stranger.

“Hello,” I said, “help yourself to a fucking.”

I let her bounce down a few times, and then I set fishing pole aside, reaching for the straps of her dress. I thought I might nibble on her tits.

“Nope, I don’t need that,” she said. “I just came for cock.”

She made one or two more trips on my pole before I started to speak.

“No, don’t speak. Just fuck this pussy. By the way, why am I doing all the work?” she asked.

Good question.

I clenched and unclenched the muscles in my butt and that seemed to propel my fuck missile a lot further into her cunt. I couldn’t see it, as the dress covered everything.

In a few moments she shook her head violently from side to side. “Keep going,” she said firmly, “I want another one.”

In another few moments I felt my load of cum on the runway ready to access the delivery system to her moist cunt.
She came again, this time more violently. She coughed and moaned, and started to lift herself off my cock.

I shoved her back down onto my cock forcefully. I could feel it splitting her, reaching a half a foot and more into her erogoneous zone.

“It’s my turn, Debbie” I said. A moment later I felt the warm cum blasted into her.

As she lifted herself off me, the cum ran out of her and onto my lap.

She retreated back down the pier, and as she drove away I sat there with my pants drenched in cum.

Fortunately I carry a change of clothing in my truck.

30 feet out into the calm lake the bobber was moving.