The Summer of Discontentbyejls©
The heat waves shimmered in the distance, inexorably rising off the sand in an unmerciful display of Mother Nature's authority. Off to the left, the cicada could be heard, their buzz signaling the fishing village of another hot day.
It was the summer of '69. It was the summer of discontent.
Rose opened the front door to the cottage, hoping for the hint of a breeze. Usually you could feel a breeze from the ocean, but not today. She leaned against the door, running an ice cube over her throat, letting the cold water run down her chest, between her breasts. She hated this place. She hated the life she had accepted as her own.
It was the same routine for the ten years she had been married to Charlie. When school was out they came to his cottage at the shore, where he ran a fishing charter business. He worked out on the boat all day and she was stuck in this God-forsaken fishing village. No friends, nothing to do, nowhere to go, even if he did allow her to drive the car. At night he complained of being either too tired to take her out or he had already made plans to play poker. If she had only known how her life would turn out, she never would have become involved with him.
Rose was in her final year at the university, with plans to graduate with a teaching degree in 1959. Charlie was one of the science professors there. Rose knew him by sight. All of the girls did. Tall, curly blond hair, and handsome was the proper description. He looked like a movie star. Although many a female student tried to catch the eye of this single mid-thirties professor, he appeared not to notice.
As Rose came out of the post office that spring morning she bumped into him, sending his packages flying. She muttered her apologies and stooped to help him. Instead, her head came into direct contact with Charlie's nose. Rose quickly offered him a white lace handkerchief from her handbag to help stop the bleeding. Charlie looked at this pretty coed, her cheeks red with embarrassment, and became immediately smitten. With her dark hair pulled back in a pony-tail and her blue eyes shining with the start of tears, all Charlie wanted to do was take her in his arms and keep her forever.
That was the start of their relationship. Until graduation, their meetings were "accidental" ones in public venues or in private places, outside of town. Charlie felt young again in the back seat of his Chevy. He felt like a teenager, necking, eventually getting to first base, under Rose's bra then, soon after, sliding his hand up her leg to her wet panties. Rose had not been completely willing on the night she lost her virginity. After dry-humping her, Charlie convinced her to let him just put it in a little and then he would pull it out. Once he moved her panties aside and felt her heat, he drove his cock home and didn't stop until he had cum. Now it was he who handed over a handkerchief, after he wiped her blood off his cock. He left her crying in the back seat while he stood outside and smoked a Lucky Strike.
As luck would have it, a child was conceived, so the day after graduation they were married by the local justice of the peace. Their honeymoon was in his cottage at the shore. Charlie helped Rose send her family a telegram about their nuptials, promising to visit at the end of summer.
At first Rose was excited about being at the ocean. She assumed there would be other couples or families. She didn't understand that the fishing village was just that -- a vacation haven for fishermen. She was also excited about making a home for her handsome husband and their baby. Rose was fortunate that she hadn't suffered from morning sickness. Her breasts and hips became larger while her waist stayed tiny, giving her a real hourglass figure. Charlie was thrilled that his young bride looked like a movie star, and never got tired of mauling her new mature body. It was his daily ritual of coming home from the boat, closing the door, forcibly pulling Rose's clothes off and ravaging her body. Rose hated that his hands smelled like fish and his breath smelled like beer and cigarettes. She hated the bite marks he left on her breasts and the bruises on the rest of her body. She hated it, but was also turned on by Charlie's domination of her.
After dinner when there wasn't a poker game, he made her walk around the cottage naked, slapping her ass when she walked by him. Sometimes he made her sit on the floor next to his chair, so he could reach down and pull on her nipples while he watched television. In bed, it wasn't uncommon for him to tie her wrists to the iron headboard. Rose didn't know any better. After all, Charlie was the only man she had known. She assumed this rough play was normal. Still, she longed to be held and touched gently.
In mid-July, she woke to cramps -- the kind Rose normally got with her period. Charlie was already gone for the day and there was no one around to hear her cries for help. Sitting on the toilet, tears caused by the fear and pain streaming down her cheeks, Rose lost their baby. She stayed sitting there for about an hour afterward, before running a bath and trying to soak away her physical and emotional pain. Even now, the sight of the bloodied water being flushed down was still a very vivid memory.
When Charlie got home that night he was more concerned about dinner not being made, than the loss of their child. He pretty much left Rose alone for the next week except for barking orders about his dinner each night. Alone in her grief, Rose spent her days sobbing and her nights all by herself in their bed. Charlie wouldn't sleep with her or even offer his arms to console her. Rose couldn't recall ever feeling that lonely.
After that, it was back to the same routine. Even though Rose was no longer pregnant, she kept her new womanly figure. Charlie swore she looked like Elizabeth Taylor in "Suddenly Last Summer". In what Rose perceived to be an act of kindness, one rainy day he drove her to a salon and had the hairdresser style Rose's hair the same as Taylor's. He bought her very tight capris and tops that showed off her decolletage. He was proud to have a young sexy wife at his disposal.
Charlie forgot about visiting Rose's family at the end of summer. He simply dropped a check in the mail to them and requested they ship him Rose's belongings. Charlie brought Rose back to his apartment but never did anything to make it feel like her home. When the boxes arrived from her parents, Charlie went through them and decided what she could keep. She had to stand by and watch her childhood be thrown out with the trash.
For ten years, Rose played the "trophy" wife. Charlie didn't allow her to work or join any clubs. The only friends she had were the wives of other professors, but they were more acquaintances than anything. She was his accessory, and dressed and did exactly as she was told. She and Charlie never conceived another child and while Charlie seemed fine with that, it left a huge void in Rose's life. It seemed like everything would remain the same -- cooking, cleaning and always being the wife Charlie expected.
Back at the cottage for her tenth summer, Rose's frustration was at an all-time high. The world was changing. Flower power, hippies, Viet Nam War protesters were all in the news. While Rose was young enough to still appreciate music, albums like the Beatle's Yellow Submarine and groups like Jethro Tull were forbidden in Charlie's home. A woman jockey rode at Hialeah, Golda Meir was sworn in as Prime Minister of Israel, and "Oh Calcutta" opened in New York City (almost entirely in the nude). The world was changing, but not Charlie's wife.
Charlie allowed Rose to shorten her skirts a little, but in public she had to appear prim and proper. No bell-bottoms and no mini-skirts. Those were for his eyes only. At the cottage he wanted her in two-piece bathing suits, shorts and midi-tops. It was as if he was trying to show the men what a little slut he had. Rose was by herself most of the time, with old magazines the hair salon allowed her to take. She had to hide them from Charlie because they would have never met with his approval. She learned about women becoming powerful and independent. She learned about bra burning and free-love. She learned to satisfy herself. Rose's eyes were being opened to a new, modern world. She tried to share her feelings with Charlie, but that wasn't on his agenda. This summer, as she did every summer, she grieved the anniversary of their baby's death.
On this particular day, Rose decided a swim might do something to lighten her mood. Maybe if she cooled off a bit, she wouldn't feel so unsettled. She put on a white lace cover-up over her yellow two-piece suit. Even though she knew Charlie would prefer her in a one-piece bathing suit when she was out alone, Rose wanted to work on her tan.
It wasn't an official beach. There were no life guards, no chairs and umbrellas. It was just a little secluded area that the few locals used on the weekends. During the week it was all but deserted. Rose left her towel spread out on the sand, put on her bathing cap and walked to the water's edge. Waves splashed up on her painted toes. With no boats anywhere on the horizon, a confidence came over Rose. With a quick look over her shoulder to confirm she was alone, she removed her suit and left the pieces on the shore while she went for a swim.
Rose loved the times she dared to swim naked. The salt water's buoyancy made her feel like a sea nymph. Rose pretended she was a mermaid swimming with the dolphins. She lost herself in the fantasy of being captured by a handsome pirate. While she floated on her back, she ran her hands over her breasts and nipples, not realizing she was being watched.
Jake was Zeb and Martha's son. Born to them late in their lives, he was a well-built, handsome, young man, but with a mind that never grew up. An unfortunate bicycle accident froze his brain in time. Although he looked like Rock Hudson, except for the scar on the side of his head, he acted like a little boy. He wished he knew how to swim like Miss Rose, he thought, pulling up his bathing trunks a little. He liked Miss Rose because she was always nice to him. Not like Mr. Charlie -- he yelled sometimes. He saw her bright yellow suit lying on the sand and sat down next to it. He couldn't understand why her bathing suit was here and she was in the water.
While Jake watched her floating on her back, he picked up her suit and held it to him. Rose was unaware of his presence as she swam towards the shore and finally stood up to walk out of the water. Her body glistened as she took off her cap and shook out her hair. Rose looked to where she thought she left her things and quickly became confused. There Jake sat, a huge smile on his face, stroking his penis over his trunks, with her bathing suit. She lowered her cap to cover her crotch and placed her arm to cover her breasts.
"H....h....hi, Miss Rose," Jake stuttered nervously, staring at her nakedness.
Rose didn't want to panic the simple-minded young man. After all, this was just Jake, and he was always such a good boy. She spoke in soft, soothing tones, "Hi Jake, what are you doing this bright, sunny day?"
He kept staring and stroking. "Nothin', maybe looking for shells for my collection. I got hundreds of them. Hey, do you want to build a sandcastle with me?" Jake asked.
Jake's stare made Rose uneasy, as she glanced around hoping no one would see them. "Jake, may I have my bathing suit?"
"You got titties. That's what my papa calls them when he looks at his magazines," Jake said, as he grin got wider. "Pretty titties, pretty titties, pretty titties. My papa says you can drink from titties. He said they got milk, like a cow."
"Well Jake, that's true," Rose explained. "When a woman has a baby she can feed the baby milk from her breasts."
She was startled when Jake jumped up off the sand, stroking himself a little faster. His red bathing suit trunks were slipping down his hips as he came over to her.
"I like your titties. Let me see them, huh? Please? I'm a good boy," Jake pleaded.
Rose was unsure how to handle this, but decided that treating him like the young boy he was mentally, was the best course of action. At all costs, she did not want to upset him. Slowly, she lowered her arm and exposed herself. Jake leaned right over to take a closer look. Rose could feel his breath against her skin. Goose bumps formed and her nipples became hard and pointy.
"Whoa, did you see that?" Jake asked excitedly, and then poked a nipple with his finger. "Look! I touched a tittie! I touched a tittie!" He tossed Rose's bathing suit aside and swooped her up by the waist, spinning her around and singing, "I touched titties. I got some titties. Hey! I want a drink!"
With that, Jake picked Rose up higher, captured one of her breasts in his mouth, and began to suck. Rose stifled a scream and wrapped her legs around him, in case he decided to drop her. She tried to push her body away, but Jake held her close. As shocked as she was, the feeling was not at all unpleasant. She didn't remember Charlie ever being so gentle.
"Nothing, there's no milk. Maybe the other one will be chocolate," Jake said excitedly.
Faster than Rose could react, he latched on to her left breast and began sucking again. An intense feeling of pleasure shot through her body. She felt a throbbing between her legs and a wetness start to form. Rose's body was beginning to yearn for something she hadn't found.
Again, she tried to pull back. Her feet got caught in the back of Jake's trunks, pushing them further down Jake's hips. She pushed against his shoulders with her hands, threatening to make him lose his balance and topple over, but he kept on sucking. She tried to fight it, but Rose began to enjoy the sensations her body was experiencing. When Jake pulled her a little closer, she rubbed against his abdomen. She felt her desires growing.
"Wow," Jake said, abruptly putting Rose down. "Look at my peter."
Jake pulled down his bathing suit, showing Rose his growing penis. She had only ever seen Charlie's, if you didn't count the babies she watched while she was in high school. She hadn't thought about covering herself up. She didn't think about whether they were being watched. All she could do was stare at this amazingly good looking man, with a little boy trapped inside of him.
"You don't have a peter, Miss Rose. My papa told me that boys stick out and so they can poke girls and make babies. I never poked a girl before. Why don't you have babies, Miss Rose? Doesn't Mr. Charlie poke you?" Jake asked with the innocence he still retained.
"God decided that my babies would stay in heaven, Jake," Rose answered, blinking back her tears.
"Miss Rose, don't cry. I'll hug you," he offered, pulling her into his arms.
With Jake's bathing suit now around his ankles, his hard penis was obvious. It rested against Rose's belly when he held her, leaving a trail of moisture. He pulled back but stayed within arm's length. Looking down he touched himself, with a long, slow stroke. Without warning, he reached out and cupped Rose's dark-haired mound. She immediately jumped back, falling on the sand.
Oh my God, she thought. Another man had touched her, without hurting. On her back with her legs spread, Jake quickly knelt between them, afraid he had hurt Rose.
"I'm sorry! I.... I.... I didn't mean to push you," Jake said. The poor boy looked like he might cry.
Rose sat up, concerned about Jake, and placed her hand on the side of his face. "It's all right, Jake, I'm fine," she said in a gentle voice. "See? I'm perfectly okay."
Jake took a long look at the beautiful, naked woman in front of him. Miss Rose was a lot prettier than the ladies in his papa's magazines. She was a nice lady, too. He looked at her face, down her body at her voluptuous breasts, to the dark hair between her legs. Nope, no peter, he thought.
Uncomfortable once more, Rose tried to scoot back in the sand, in order to close her legs. Jake's hands immediately went to her knees, pushing them apart.
"But I want to see," he said, leaning down to get a closer look.
She couldn't understand her excitement. Was it because of the unknown? The forbidden? She was someone's wife and this was a simple-minded young man. Still, the feel of his breath on her privates was more than she could take. She was suddenly brought down to earth by the touch of Jake's fingers.
"I want to see more."
Now, she didn't care -- not one bit. She had an itch so deep inside of her that needed to be scratched. Rose remembered when she used to feel this way with Charlie. It was a rare occasion now. If she were at home, she would be using her hairbrush. Instead, here was something else she could use.
"Let me show you, Jake," Rose began, spreading her legs wider.
She ran her index fingers through the sable-colored down and then opened herself so Jake could look at a real woman. She felt sensual, sexual, and very brazen. She wanted this man to satisfy her thirst.
"It looks like a flower, Miss Rose. It's pink and it looks wet. That's cause you were swimming naked. Why were you swimming naked, Miss Rose?"
Rose only half-heard Jake speaking. She had dipped the middle finger of her right hand into her already wet hole and was now circling the sensitive little nub, sending waves of pleasure sweeping over Rose and causing her to tremble.
"Miss Rose? Miss Rose? What'cha doin'? I don't see nothing," Jake said with complete innocence.
"I'm playing with my button, Jake," she responded in a dreamy voice.
"I don't see no button. Like on a shirt?"
Rose opened herself up a little wider and ran her finger around her prized pearl, one more time. "See Jake? See the little button? When I touch it, it makes me feel really good."
"Hmmm. I don't got no button. I just got a peter. But when I touch it, it makes me feel real good, too," Jake said, sitting back on his knees, stroking his hard cock.
Rose lowered her eyes to watch him. This gorgeous man/child stroked to the same rhythm as she played with herself. She could feel her need grow even more. She moved her hand down and pushed her middle finger deep inside again.
"Hey! What did you do? What is that?" Jake asked, excitedly. "Where did you put your finger?"
Rose just smiled and thought about how she could explain it. She simply asked, "Do you remember that your papa told you that a peter sticks out so he can poke a woman and make babies? This hole is where the man puts his peter."
Jake leaned forward, shaking his head. "No....no, that's not it. That place is too small."
"No, it isn't; it stretches. Look, one finger fits, now two fingers fit." Slowly she slid her index finger in and moved both of them in and out.
"Wow! That is so cool! But why are you doing that? Your finger isn't a peter."
Rose moaned a little as her pleasure increased. "Because it feels so good to have something poked in there, Jake."
"It does? Even if your fingers don't make babies? I don't know about that, Miss Rose." Jake shook his head looking more confused.
Rose removed her fingers and stretched her arms over her head, trying to look seductive. "Jake, honey, sometimes a man pokes a woman just so they both feel good. If you put your peter in my hole, I'll bet it would feel real good."
She licked her lips when she saw pre-cum forming at the end of Jake's cock. She had no idea why she was feeling this way and even more surprised at her boldness. All she knew was that she wanted Jake. She wanted a man who wouldn't hurt her. She wanted a man to make her feel good. Her hands found their way back to her valley.
"Oh no, Miss Rose! I can't do that. My papa told me I should never do that. He said never to poke a girl 'cause I could get into trouble."
"Jake, I promise you it'll be our secret. No one will know and no one will get into trouble. Please Jake, won't you try to poke me? Don't you want me to feel good? Don't you want to feel good too?"