tagRomanceThe Beach

The Beach

byJack T. Ladd©

Each footstep sank into the dank boggy ground of the islands peat with a wet squelch, followed by a soft sucking sound as it clung determinedly to the now escaping and retreating boot. The bog would attack again at his next step. It never gave up.

It neither distinguished between King nor peasant, Viking or Celt, all were the same. Its inexorable pull dragged the toughest and the finest to its depths eventually. Their strength no match for its primordial grasp. There it held them for eternity. Only rarely did it gave back what it had taken, revealing to awed, barely comprehending eyes, the fate of those that had lived, had died, in this forbidding place. Those many forgotten souls the ancient bog had ensnared, had taken to its cold depths, eons before.

To him, she was impossibly young. And, at this moment, this fleeting moment, he possessed her completely. He savoured this time with her as if it were his last meal, allowing his senses to gorge upon her body, fully and without restraint. She was his.

But his for how long? That jarring thought, that rude, insistent, infuriating thought, was never, ever, going to be far away. It lived with him. And he also knew, no matter how he denied it to himself, the painful answer to that terrible and insistent question.

The small room was filled with heavy darkness and deep shadows. Shapes were tantalisingly revealed, shadows momentarily banished when Moonlight seeped into the darkness. Cold and pale, the light of the night fell through the open window, spreading its ethereal glow over her glistening and naked body, unashamedly exploring her contours with its feeble intensity. The cool light flickered and lay upon her, camouflaging the burning heat of her body. The net curtains of the open windows strove and flapped, but failed to protect her modesty, to deny the Moon's lascivious caresses.

The very air of the night enthusiastically joined in this orgiastic exploration of her body, sweeping past the prim and protesting curtains as it reached out its cooling fingers and caressed her in its own way. The cool dampness of the air washed over her nakedness, flowing over her skin lightly, teasingly, her reaction to its touch evidenced by a long sensuous shiver as a rash of goose pimples swept over her in a tide.

He drank in the erotic sight below him, her shape and form highlighted and accentuated by the low angle of the weak light, the valleys and hills of her body undulating invitingly beneath him. His fingers traced the contours of her face, lightly drawing over their symmetrical, angular, yet soft, feminine features. Her dark shoulder length hair framed her head on the pillow. He touched her lips, full and gentle. That such beauty could hide deceit and avarice was absurd to him. Her firm breasts, the strength of youth within them, held their shape impossibly, refusing the pull of gravity, almost challenging him. He watched the nipples hardening once again from the cold air, or perhaps from the touch of his fingers as they drew ever nearer to them, he was unsure. Nevertheless, he watched intently as they stiffened, then lowered his lips to them. Abigale felt the warmth of his breath upon her breast as he drew close, and let slip a long sigh.

David trudged on, each step he made was harder than the last and, although he was aware he was tiring, his gaze was steady. Ahead of him the mist was beginning to come in over the Sound of Sleat, arriving as swirling wraiths upon the western shores of the Isle of Skye. Across the Sound, the mountains of the Highlands hunched themselves against the approaching darkness, releasing the last of the day's weak sunlight grudgingly from their snow covered tops. The last dark red glow of sunlight then inevitably vanished from the Earth, escaping its enfolding confines. David watched as the glow left the Earth and became as one with the mist. The glow took ephemeral form and came towards him. David never broke step. The shoreline he was seeking was now close. The ancient peat bogg redoubled its effort to slow his progress, holding each step that fraction longer, draining his strength. It knew, it sensed, the failing resolve, it would always win in the end.

The hard erect nipple touched his lips. It demanded access to his mouth. How could he refuse? Opening his lips slightly, he lowered them over the hard nub, then help it tightly between them, testing its hardness, but holding back the lash of his rough tongue from its sensitive tip. She arched her back, pushing her breast against his face, eager for him to take her deep within his mouth. But he would not. He felt her wriggle and squirm deliciously underneath him as he moved to her other breast, repeating his gentle torture.

In response, her hand snaked down, traced over his chest, past his stomach, reaching down, finding his hardness. She wrapped her small hand around the erect shaft she found, testing its hardness with a firm pressure. She sighed her delight at the clear evidence of his desire. Grasping him tighter, she attempted to pull him up and towards her, wanting him now inside her. But he resisted, retreated, sliding down and infuriatingly away from her. He heard her moan a deep throaty sound of complaint as he slid away, down, and out of her grasp, his hardness finally slipping reluctantly from her desperately restraining grasp.

Tracing his tongue down along her skin, from between her breasts, he found the well of her belly button, delving his tongue briefly into it, making her squirm, before continuing his way further down, down to the seat of her desire. Now it was her turn to resist as she tried to pull him up, to stop him. But he would not be denied.

"No, no…I want you inside of me…" She told him without real conviction, whining plaintively, ineffectually, desperate now to be filled by that hardness she had only just released from her hand.

But he was too strong. Realising at last that he would have his way, that she could not prevent him, she fell back onto the bed, abandoning herself to his exploration of her body with his lips and tongue. She closed her eyes, shuddering slightly as she felt her legs lifted, pushed back and up, as he spread her wide to his hungry gaze, his delicate intentions. "David, that was brilliant!" His manager told him with a satisfied smile. "This will give you a four figure bonus on your plate at Christmas!"

David shrugged with apparent modesty. "Thank you, Sir, I try to do my best"

The proffered hearty congratulations, David knew, were only partly aimed at him. He studied the delighted man in front of him as though for the first time. His manager was a large man of substantial girth and personality. The general demeanour of the man, his apparent open bonhomie, coupled with his great size and weight, somehow reinforced an immediate and positive impression upon strangers. People needed to know him for more than a day or two to realise that this was in fact a completely false assumption. He was very clever though, and rarely gave people that much time to discover his true worth.

In reality, he was nothing more than a snake salesman, serpentine in his unscrupulous dealings, slithering from one crooked deal to the next. His total disregard for the greater well being of his customers became clear only upon further inspection, whereupon the ugly nature of the man was visible beneath the glossy veneer. That is, if you cared to look. Most people did not care to look that carefully. And he relied upon that, that all to human failing. The man's only thought, his only desire, was the pursuit of his own aggrandisement, with the consequent manipulation of those around him, in order to further that very base ambition.

David despised him. But he despised himself even more for his active collusion through all these years. He castigated himself for embracing those same corrupt ambitions for his own benefit. Was he any different? The empty rationality of his life was laid harshly bare before him. And where had it got him? It had got him nothing more than modest wealth and a broken family. He had been so blind, but now his newfound insight was of little use.

"I tell you, Dave" His manager continued, blissfully unaware of the deep change within David,

"I will make damn sure you get rewarded for what you have accomplished today, that contract you negotiated will save the bank millions! I can see great things for you here, David, great things!"

He steered David by the shoulders as he showed him from the office, patting him on the back physically and symbolically. "Bigger and better, Dave, bigger and better, you have everything you need for the Mugabe file?"

"Yes, Sir, I have" David told him, a slight tremor in his voice betraying the bitter bile he now felt within.

His manager though, still consumed with glee over his own increased bonus through David's efforts, appeared not to notice.

"Good, good, I can see it will be in safe hands, keep me informed of your progress"

"I will, Sir, I will." David replied to the grinning, almost Cheshire-cat features of the man, as the door closed with a heavy click in his face.

David imagined himself as the white rabbit, late, ever so late, for life's crazy tea party. He was doing well, as his manager had delightedly told him. Satisfaction though, was eluding him now, and would elude him forever now he knew. He could almost hear the grains of sand emptying from the hourglass in his head.

The swirling of dark umber-coloured mist took human form directly in front of David. He studied the growing vision impassively, not breaking step, continuing to walk determinedly through the clinging bog, onwards to the shoreline. David was neither frightened nor surprised at the apparition in front of him. The shape slowly coalesced into female form, dancing, always dancing just a meter in front of him. The creatures lovely face, now revealed from within the mist, just smiled enigmatically back at him. Built from mist, transparent, insubstantial, and yet real.

David could see the beach quiver and waver as if a mere mirage through the body of the being in front of him. Details emerged as if in soft focus, then hardened, then blurred again. He supposed the drugs that he had been forced to take were to blame, or perhaps thanked, he no longer really cared which. The creature, the woman or girl, was heartbreakingly graceful and beautiful. Not human he saw, no, she was more Elfe-like in her appearance. She seemed to glow with the captured warmth and light from the Sun's last rays. Dressed in what appeared to be loose and flowing shimmering silk, and supported by faintly fluttering gossamer wings, she entranced him. Still he walked onwards. Still she kept her distance as they studied each other silently.

His tongue lanced out and traced the soft feathery sides of her wet labia, his touch was soft, barely touching, yet produced a disproportionate and electric response in Abigale. He had driven her need for him to another height, and would drive it further, deeper; until he felt ready take her finally, for his own. Her vitality, her youth, he drank from her, encouraging her passion and pleasure to satisfy his own deepening void. He continued his determined lapping, maddening her with his assault on her most sensitive parts, moving his soft, but slightly rough and snaking tongue, along and around her flower. He explored her deepest secrets, her private texture and taste, her sweetly flowing juices.

Abigale writhed around, desperate for more, wanting it to stop, wanting it to go on forever, desperate for release. David took pity and delved into her suddenly, probing his prehensile muscle deeply into her vagina, swirling along her velvet walls, moving up to the small demanding erection of her sensitive clit. One touch on that previously ignored sensitive nub was all it took, one touch to hear her wail her pleasure, feel her shuddering response as she crushed her hips against his face as she rode her sudden and explosive orgasm. He neither stopped or relented as he took hold of that hard nub of intense pleasure and milked it fiercely, wrapping his tongue remorselessly around its sensitive and responsive flesh, sending more shock waves of pleasure sweeping through her body. He waited for her extended orgasm to slow, for her to relax her entwining legs that held him hard against her intense centre of pleasure.

The sea mist had now reached his feet, flowing in from the Sound. He felt the cold around his lower body intensify as it gathered about him. Grey blue mist rose up on each side of him. Took shape, resolved into men. Highland men. Viking men. Celtic men. Ancient men. They walked alongside of him. He turned to look. They ignored him. But still they walked alongside him, matching his every step. The beach was not far now, he would make it, but the bogg dragged his feet, slowed him, every step now a huge effort. His breath emptied from straining lungs into the cold air, and was taken away by the Elfe in front of him. She beckoned him on, encouraged him. He strove on. The ancient wraith men on either side matched his steps as they strode forward, together.

Abigale sat sharing a drink with her friend, Lucy, another rather spoilt young woman who had not really had to try very hard for what she had in her life. Lucy was moaning again. Something about not getting the exact right villa for her holiday this year. Abigale listened with practiced sympathy, nodding but not really listening. She had her own problems. Her Mother had promised to get her Father to stump up the money for her latest venture, but so far he had been surprisingly reticent about handing over the cash. Her fashion store was bound to be a fantastic success, she just knew it! So what if her last two shops had folded! It wasn't her fault! She internally fumed once again at her fathers patronising refusal to back her latest scheme.

"So, I told him, if he doesn't get a proper villa, I am not going! What do you think of that Abby! Abby?"

Abigale started. "Oh? Oh yeah! that should do it, Lucy, you stick out for what you want, you deserve it after all!"

"Damn right I do, the things I do for that man…!" She giggled suddenly.

"Talking about the things we do for our man, how are you and David getting on?

Abigale looked with narrowed eyes at her friend, a secret conspiratorial look.

"He really isn't as bad as you might think" She teased her friend. "Age and experience has its compensations you know."

"Abby, you are terrible you know, using him in such a way. " The sexually suggestive remark made her smile. But then a sudden thought struck her "Errm, your not actually, you know, getting involved…are you?

Abigale laughed at her friends suggestion "No Lucy, but he is surprising fun…"

She would have gone on but stopped, as she saw Lucy look towards the door of the coffee shop. Lucy leaned towards Abby and whispered. "I will slip away and leave you two alone…"

The well-dressed but slightly portly and balding man walked towards Abby. His face was serious, yet expectant. Abby stood as she greeted him with a peck on his cheek. He took her in his arms and gave her a hugg in return, which she could not help but resist slightly. She needed him for her business venture and she had flirted with him outrageously, flattering and encouraging him, before eventually allowing him to take her as his lover, but now he was becoming possessive - and that was beginning to irritate.

"David!" She told him in a stage whisper. "Not in here!"

David's face lost a little of its expectancy as he recognised again her lack of real enthusiasm. He sighed. He was fifty-six, she was twenty-eight, he knew he was being used, but he had hoped against hope. It was time to draw the line. He was utterly in love with her, he knew that, and although he had not told her, he knew she played on his emotions. But he didn't care. They sat down at the table.

"I should have the lease signed up for the shop soon David, it will make you rich, you wait!" Abigale launched into her bubbly excited mode, she really needed some cash soon.

"I made a good contract today" David told her somewhat sombrely. "Things are going well.."

"Oh good! So you will be able to invest all the easier with me then won't you!"

"Yes, I could or…."

"Or what?" Abigale asked, suddenly worried her financial investor was wavering.

"Well, I could, we could…you know, go away…?"

"Go away? What do you mean go away?" Abigale was flummoxed.

"I mean, I have enough money to take you anywhere you like, you could do as you please…without all this ..this…business?"

"With you? Go away with you?"

"Would it be that bad, Abigale?"

Abigale was surprised and very nearly blurted out YES! It would be horrible! But she still hoped to get his investment. She needed his investment. This might be tricky.

"David, that is sweet of you, but I need my business, it is what I do…you understand, don't you?" She placed her hand over his. "Your very sweet, and I adore you, but I can't just run away with you, you know!"

David looked down at her hand upon his own. No, she couldn't. He knew she couldn't. He knew also the real reason she couldn't, or rather, wouldn't. He still had had to ask though.

"No, I suppose your right…"

"What's the matter, David?"

"Matter? Nothing really the matter Abby…just sort of…taking stock..."

She looked at him. She had felt sorry for him, but now she felt more irritated than sorry. His wife had left him two years ago for another man, his daughter was abroad somewhere avoiding him, blaming him for the break up, so he was on his own and lonely. Lonely and rich. He had taken a shine to her and she had taken advantage of that. She kidded herself that she was being kind, but the knowledge he could help her was never far from her mind. And then she saw he was becoming infatuated with her. Like a puppy really.

"You are still going to help me, aren't you David? I mean with the shop?"

"Oh, sure, I am just being silly…I better go now…I will see you again soon, ok?"

He got up to leave, then leant down and kissed her cheek, smiled at her, and then turned and left. He knew he wouldn't see her again, and he knew that she knew, also.

Abigale watched him walk out of the shop, and she did know, just as David suspected, she just knew she was watching the money walk away. Her father had better come thorough now, was all she could think about.

David's feet crunched on shells and sand. He stopped. He had reached the shore. The Elfe was still in front of him. But the ancient wraith men, the men who had marched with him through the bog, were standing behind him now. They would go no further. David caught his breath. He was free of the marsh. But those spirits of these long dead men would never be.

The men stood at the edge of the deadly peat bogg, their empty eyes stared out beyond him, pat him, out towards the sea. Then, as if they realised they had lost him at last to the Elfe, they turned back, melting back into their cold graves within the peat marsh. The Elfe smiled at him.

She beckoned. He followed. Together they walked in silence along the deserted white beach, as remote a part of the world as you could find, populated by thousands of years of human drama, love and hate. The craggy rocks and ancient hills held all the secrets of the past. Would only tell those secrets to those who had ears to listen. David was ready to listen. The Elfe guided him to a sheltered rocky outcrop where he sat, his back against the hard granite, his face towards the sea. And remembered.

In the darkness, he brought himself up, leaving that savoury place and supporting himself above the prone and now gently panting body of Abigale. The Moonlight highlighted the perspiration on her soft skin; he knew he was ready to take her now. She had barely recovered from her last orgasm; but the sublime torture of his tongue was now replaced by another instrument, this time the large and blunt form of his hard and long denied penis.

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byJack T. Ladd© 0 comments/ 12864 views/ 1 favorites

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