Simon hated weddings. Weddings in general, and this one in particular. As if it wasn't enough that he was missing out on a gloriously sunny Saturday afternoon in June, he was also dressed in a formal jacket, shirt and tie, literally feeling hot under the collar. Oh, and he had to be nice to all these relatives, half of whom he hardly knew, although he supposed that he had that joy to come, being the younger brother of the groom and all that. He wondered how many other eighteen year olds were suffering like him today, instead of being out playing football, or swimming, or otherwise enjoying themselves.
Oh, well, there was at least one compensation -- Kate was here, younger sister of his brother's new wife. She probably hadn't registered his existence, being a full year older than him and therefore out of his league. She wasn't conventionally beautiful, he mused to himself, but she was certainly pretty and had a spark of life about her that he liked -- a lot.
He watched her walk over from the other side of the function room, looking stunning in that peach-coloured bridesmaid's dress. He realised that he was staring and that she was now heading for the table where he was sitting on his own, away from the adults. His mouth went dry as she plonked herself down next to him with a cheery,
"Hi, Simon -- you look like you're as bored as I am!"
"Oh, er, hi, Kate. I thought girls were meant to enjoy weddings."
"Not this one. We've lived and breathed this for so long, I just want it over with. Besides, it's Liz's day, so I have to be nice and not upset anyone, and I can't wait to get out of this dress."
Simon had difficulty concentrating as an image of her getting out of the dress swam unbidden across his vision, but with a great effort he collected his thoughts in an effort not to sound like a total cretin.
"So, what would you rather be doing?"
"On a day like this? Swimming in the sea, or just lying on the beach."
"Now that sounds more like it," he agreed, flexing his poor constricted toes and imagining them with cool, wet sand between them. "Bliss!"
She looked up at him quickly with a half smile:
"Why don't we?"
She laughed, "No, of course not -- they'd never forgive us. What are you doing tomorrow, though?"
"Er, Sunday? Well, nothing, really."
"Let's do that, then. You know where I live, don't you? Pick me up at ten."
With that she was gone, leaving him with his thoughts in a whirl. Had he just been asked out? Surely not, she must just be bored, but then again, a day on the beach with her did sound very appealing.
Somehow he got through the rest of the reception, smiling dutifully, his mind somewhere else entirely. He spent a rather restless night, but eventually woke with a pleasant feeling of anticipation. Having extracted his new sister-in-law's family address from his parents (rather subtly, he thought, not catching their arched brows and complicit smiles behind his back), he then spent an age deciding what to wear to impress her. Discarding shirt after shirt as unsuitable and torn between shorts or swimming trunks, he finally realised how ludicrous it was to agonise over beach wear, grinned ruefully at his image in the mirror, slipped on a favourite T-shirt and his shorts and set off for the short walk to her house.
With some trepidation he rang the doorbell, and was very relieved when Kate answered it herself. He also noted gratefully that his choice of clothes had been the right one, as she was similarly attired in a sky blue T-shirt and a white peasant-style skirt. She stuffed a large, multicoloured towel into a cloth bag and they were on their way.
She surprised him by turning right out of the house instead of left.
"Aren't we going to the beach?"
"Yes, but not that one -- I'm taking you to my favourite one, and for that we need the bus."
He didn't really know any of the other beaches along the coast, but happily went along with her plan as they chatted at the bus stop and on the front seat of the open upstairs deck of the bus, the wind making her long, ripened corn-coloured hair stream out delightfully. It was funny -- usually he was very shy and tongue-tied with girls, but her natural assurance and easy conversation put him at ease, and he responded to her by becoming equally animated.
Finally, she announced that they had arrived, jumping off the bus and leading the way down a track which meandered through a pine wood with sand dunes on either side. He followed, surreptitiously studying her bare, tanned legs and noticing how the skirt was partly see-through with the sun behind it. Feeling slightly guilty and somehow unworthy, he caught her up and grinned at her as they walked along in a companionable silence.
His happiness wavered when they reached the beach. She was right, it was beautiful compared to the town beach, with a long stretch of pale golden sand backed by dunes, the whole thing framed by gleaming white low chalk cliffs at either end of the bay. What disconcerted him was the crude wooden sign in front of them which read, "Nude sunbathers may be seen beyond this point"
She saw him staring aghast and said with an impish grin,
"Don't worry, it's not compulsory!"
He relaxed a bit at that, seeing that although there were undoubtedly some naked people on the beach, others were dressed in more conventional swimwear, and both groups seemed to co-exist quite happily. He hoped that they would stay well away from the knots of bare bodies, though -- he wouldn't know where to look.
To his relief, Kate headed for a deserted patch of sand and claimed it as theirs with her huge towel. He rummaged in his own bag and laid his own towel down next to hers, straightening up just in time to see her cross her arms at the hem of the blue T-shirt and strip it off in one fluid movement, giving him a perfect view of the top half of her body, and his gaze locked onto the pair of firm young breasts which were facing him from only a couple of feet away.
He looked away hurriedly before she could catch him staring, fumbling with his shirt buttons in confusion, then saw her unzip the side of her skirt and let the whole thing fall to the sand, leaving her standing before him clad only in a small and rather thin pair of white cotton panties. Even that small concession to modesty didn't last long, though, as she hooked her thumbs into the sides of the waist and unceremoniously removed them, too, before sitting down facing the sea with her arms round her knees as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Bare-chested, now, he hesitated. Did she expect him to, er .... God, he'd die of embarrassment! No, she's said it wasn't compulsory, so he left his shorts on and sat rigidly (in more ways than one!) next to her, studiously avoiding looking at the nude body by his side.
Eventually, he summoned up the courage to speak.
"Er, I've never been anywhere like this before."
"What, a beach?"
He was about to reply when he caught her eye and it dawned on him that he was being teased.
"And I've certainly never seen anyone like you before," he ventured, and was rewarded by her momentary silence and what looked suspiciously like a touch of new colour in her cheeks. That made him feel better, knowing that she wasn't immune to embarrassment, either.
He felt a bit of a fool, but was determined to match her self-possession. Taking a deep breath, he stood up and fumbled with the button of his shorts for what seemed like an age, then succeeded in undoing both that and the zip and hopping around rather inelegantly as he got the shorts over his feet and was finally as naked as her. She smiled encouragingly at him:
"You're brave -- it took me two visits before I got that far."
He felt a wave of gratitude for her understanding, then lay hurriedly down on his stomach next to her.
He stayed in that position for a long time, enjoying the unfamiliar feeling of a pleasant breeze across his bare backside, stealing glances at her smooth body with its all-over tan, the golden hairs along her forearms, the slim but toned thighs and calves, and two lovely little dimples just above those peachy cheeks ...
"Are you OK?"
Guiltily he met her concerned eyes.
"You need to change position -- I think your bum's getting sunburnt."
It was, but that was better than the alternative.
"Er, I can't," he mumbled, absolutely mortified, his other cheeks now burning, too.
"What do you mean, you can't? Oh, I see ..."
Now it was her turn to be embarrassed, but not for long.
"It's OK," she said gently, "It's quite normal. Besides, perhaps I should be flattered. It's a good job I didn't ask you to do my back, then!"
Her cheeky smile did nothing to help his problem, but he did feel slightly less awkward, and answered with a grin,
"Don't make it harder for me!"
She looked at him with mock severity for a moment, then burst out laughing.
"Right, I know what will sort you out. Take my hand ... Now -- RUN!"
She dragged him to his feet and together they ran full tilt to the water's edge and splashed into the waves, laughing and gasping as the cold water met their sun-warmed skin. Being naked in the water felt fantastic, truly free. Of course, Kate was right, as well -- his involuntary erection soon wilted in the cold water, and he began to relax properly.
He watched Kate swimming, her streamlined body as natural in the water as a seal, her hair floating on top of the water like a golden halo around her head. By the time they walked back up the beach, he had almost forgotten to feel self-conscious, and was just enjoying the freedom and the company of this amazing girl.
"Glad you came?", she asked as they lay side by side, the sun slowly evaporating the little rivulets which trickled from her wet hair into the small of her back.
"Yes, very, but it was a bit of a shock -- you could have warned me!"
"Would you have come?"
He thought for a second. "Er, probably not," he admitted. "I'd have been way too scared."
"Oh, well, not being able to control myself, looking stupid, thinking that my, you know, is too small - all the usual boy things."
"And I thought girls were insecure," she giggled. She rolled onto her back and closed her eyes, and this time he felt confident enough to look openly at her body, admiring the swell of the small but nicely rounded breasts and the nipples which now stood out perkily as they were caressed lightly by zephyrs of wind. Propping himself up on one elbow, he allowed himself a frank appraisal as his gaze roamed over her rib cage and stomach, lingered for a moment on a sweet belly button, then on to the sparse but surprisingly dark triangle of hair nestling between her thighs.
Her eyes opened and met his, then she looked pointedly at his own crotch. "I don't think you need have any worries about size," she said innocently, and he groaned and flung himself face down again.
"Tease!" he complained, as she stifled a snort of laughter.
It was the first of many days at the beach that summer. He felt perfectly at home there now, and there was no repetition of his body's earlier misbehaviour. Oddly enough, now that he knew what she looked like without her clothes on, he was content to let the relationship develop rather than try to rush it. They got to know each other's tastes in music (similar) and books (wildly different), views on politics -- unsurprisingly, given her disregard for conventional notions of propriety and modesty, she had liberal leanings, but was more what might have been called a free-thinker in earlier times.
His opinions were more conventional, but he loved her free spirit. It was him, though, who initiated their first kiss, walking back through the dunes from the beach. It had been another glorious day, and now the low sun was painting warm golden colours on the dunes and dappling the leaves of the trees under which they walked.
He thought that he had never been so happy, and impulsively took her hand in his, swinging round to face her. He looked into her grey eyes for a sign, and she simply put one hand behind his head and pulled him close until her lips brushed his. That first kiss seemed to last forever, their lips and tongues gently exploring new and when they finally, reluctantly, pulled apart, she didn't tease him about the obvious bulge in his shorts.
She walked next to him in abstracted silence, and he began to worry that he might have been too pushy. When she eventually spoke, though, she seemed happy enough, although more serious than normal.
"My parents are out this evening. Do you want to come back for a while?"
Simon's heart raced -- he knew that she had just made an important decision, and that he was about to get very lucky indeed.
As they approached her house, all his insecurities came to the surface again. He'd never had a proper girlfriend, all he knew came from dodgy porn mags or from his friends' stories of implausible all-night sessions of fantastic sex which left their (now strangely elusive) girlfriends begging for more. She was wordly-wise and experienced and would find his ignorance pathetic. Worst of all, she might find out that he'd never actually done the deed. He had to make a decision quickly -- honesty or bluff?
He sat at her kitchen table as she got them a drink. Actually, she seemed nervous, too, and unusually short of lively conversation and funny remarks. She took a deep breath. "You should know that I'm a virgin, and plan on staying that way for a while." He felt both relief and confusion. Had he misread all the signs, then? He sat there, looking at the floor, making no answer. "Look, I'm sorry," she went on, "but I didn't want to lead you on, and if you don't want someone like that, I won't blame you."
Hearing the catch in her voice, he looked up sharply and saw the tears brimming in her eyes. God, he was an idiot! He got up and went to her then, put a protective arm around her and held her tight. "I'm a virgin, too," he admitted. "It doesn't matter." Suddenly it really didn't, and they were entwined in a deep kiss.
When she broke away, her eyes were shining with something other than tears, as without a word she took his hand and led him up the stairs to her room. He looked round at the mixture of band posters, discarded clothes and childhood stuffed toys, but she wasn't going to let his attention wander. "Kiss me again," she ordered, and he willingly complied as they somehow fell, lips still locked together, onto her bed, dislodging a grumpy-looking teddy bear in the process.
As the kiss grew more passionate, he let his hands wander, and she made no move to stop him, her only reaction to clutch him tighter. Emboldened, he placed a hand on one breast, where he could clearly see the erect nipple through the thin material of her T-shirt. She arched her back and threw her head backwards, exposing her neck to him, and he kissed it tenderly.
With that encouragement, he ventured a hand under the T-shirt and laid his hand on the warm skin of her belly. She gasped and pulled away, and he withdrew his hand guiltily, but he needn't have worried -- she pulled away only far enough to give herself room to strip off the shirt, then began undoing the buttons of his shirt.
He was fascinated by her firm, unfettered breasts, and could have spent all day enjoying their warm smoothness and the crinkly darker area around the nipples in his hands, but she took his hand and placed it firmly on her stomach, close to the waistband of her jeans. He stroked the curves around her navel, then slid his fingertips under the denim to feel the softness and warmth inside.
She stood up then, unfastening the jeans and taking both jeans and knickers off in her impatience. Now she was in charge again, beckoning him to stand up, too, and undoing his trousers. Soon they were both nude, and he felt a shyness that he hadn't felt since that first day at the beach.
Her smile made him melt all over again, and when they lay down together on the bed, the urgency was gone, replaced by tenderness. For the first time, she felt a naked body pressed against the length of her own, and rejoiced in the warmth and closeness. The hardness of his more angular torso seemd to complement her own curves beautifully.
She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. This left her own body quite defenceless, and he took his time in exploring all of it. She led him subtly with encouraging murmers and movements of her body to guide his fingers to the right places, and as one hand began to explore upwards from her knee, she let her legs fall apart and abandoned herself to him with a sigh.
He stroked the delicate skin of her inner thigh, then his fingertips brushed the soft curls of hair and sought out the inner lips of her sex. Her legs opened wider and her back arched as her pussy strained upwards for his touch, and his fingers found the welcoming warmth and wetness within. "Oh, that's good," she whispered, and gave herself up to enjoying the moment. This wouldn't make her come, Kate knew from the experience of her own touch, but it felt wonderful, and there was time enough for that later.
As if in a drugged stupor, she luxuriated in the langorous sensation of being pleasured by another for a while, but then she noticed his erection bumping against her thigh in its eagerness for release. She sat up and pushed Simon firmly down on his back.
"My turn now," she insisted. She aroused him in much the same way as he had done with her, stroking and teasing with gentle fingers, staying away from his most sensitive spots, but ever so slowly moving inexorably closer until his whole body quivered with need. The first touch of her cool fingers on his throbbing cock made him start violently, but she kept up a slow stroking movement until he became acclimatised to the feeling.
She knelt and bent over him, reaching round to cup his balls with her free hand, and he shuddered again. His cock was absolutely rigid, and quite impressive in its by now highly-agitated state. She ran her fingertips around the swollen purple head and then took a light but firm grip of the skin beneath, moving it slowly but rhythmically up and down.
"Kate!" he whispered urgently, "I'm going to come if you keep doing that."
"Good," she answered. "Now look at me." She accelerated her hand movement as she made eye contact and kept it, and his body started to buck and thrash as his orgasm finally burst from him in spurts of come which shot so far that splashes reached her breasts and lay on her golden skin like tiny pearls. As the spasms subsided, she took him in her arms again, and they clung together like the last survivors of the storm ...