The Viscounts Daughter

It was a little scary as other remembrances came to me, that if you didn't stay close to the cliff you could easily be up to your neck in water as the shingle shelved very quickly. The passage was about fifty yards and I breathed easier when I emerged onto the little cove. Things had changed. I was certain that the cove was where the fisherman hauled their boats up away from the highest tide. There was no sign that fishermen used the cove now. The sand was firm and completely untrammelled by neither feet nor the keels of boats. It was completely deserted.

The cove was quite small and at high tide there would be little sand for beach lovers to use. Even now at low tide there was no more sand than the size of a football pitch. A little stream trickled down the cove and over time had carved a channel through the beach. This was the only feature to disturb the beach. For this moment I was completely alone apart for the wash and drag of the waves and the cry of the sea birds. Fantastic!

I walked slowly along on the firm sand just recently exposed by the sea. My feet were cooled as they squelched in the damp sand. I stopped occasionally to pick up and examine the shell of some marine creature; it could be whelk or oyster for all I knew. Towards the middle of the small beach I looked to the left and noticed a rather grand villa situated just below the top of the cove. Another memory picture came to me. There had been a simple cottage in that location; at some time it had morphed to the villa I saw now. A figure was descending a path from the villa to the beach. I stopped, why? I didn't know, but something told me to wait.

The figure came closer and I had this feeling that I should know this person. Who was he? It was definitely a man, a rather gorgeous man at that; wearing just a pair of shorts; exposing nicely made pectorals and a washboard stomach. He stepped onto the sand and approached me with a beaming smile. I looked, recognizing someone from my past, but whom? Suddenly it came to me, the man on the motorbike, Richard...Richard Carter. As he came closer another name came to me, Richard Leigh the film actor. Of course, Richard told me he was studying drama and I had seen one of his films, but didn't associate the man on screen with my motorbike man. He was in speaking distance when he said. "We do seem to meet in odd ways, Lady Andrea.

"Very odd ways. I remember telling you to call me Andrea. I know it was a long time ago, but I should feel slighted that you didn't remember. Now are you Richard Carter or Richard Leigh?"

"I shall be anything you want, Andrea."

That statement was loaded and a slight frisson tickled me. "What are you doing here? Are you on holiday?

"It's a sort of break. The film we are doing had a bit of a problem so we were given some time away. The cottage belongs to my producer and he suggested I came down here for a week. Now I could ask the same question of you."

"Nothing as exciting, just a little break and time to myself."

He nodded. "How did you get here, I mean this cove?"

I turned and pointed at the headland. "I walked round from the beach on the other side of the headland. You can walk round when the tide is very low."

"I see. You do realise that this is private property?"

"Is it? The fishermen used to keep their boats here. So I didn't think for a moment that it could be private."

"It doesn't matter, Andrea. I am the temporary tenant of the cottage and if you are with me, then I suppose it is not a problem. Shall we explore?"

He turned and started to stroll along the strip of sand. Automatically I did likewise.

It was fun. We talked as we strolled and I enjoyed our conversation immensely. Richard regaled me with anecdotes of his film career, usually with him putting himself down. He dismissed his success as luck. Even so he asked questions of me, bringing him up to date with my situation. He never actually mentioned Charles and nor did I. We had a shared history of Broughley and although I had only ever met him the once, that tied us together. We had reached the point where the strip of sand ran out and the waves would beat against the rocks when the tide was full.

We continued on climbing over the rocks and examining rock pools like little children to see if crabs lurked within. I had taken a route that climbed upwards and found that I couldn't go any further. I looked round to see if I could re-trace my path. Richard was close but slightly lower than me. He could see the problem. "Here!" He reached up. "I'll help you get down." He put his hands both side of my waist and effortlessly lifted me down to the small patch of sand on which he was standing.

I had always had a slim body and Richard was quite well muscled so he lifted me easily. He didn't let me go and I didn't want him to let go. I turned my head up and I knew we were going to kiss. He brought his face close to mine and our lips touched. Sparkles of passion went through me and I opened my mouth and kissed him again. Our lips clung together and our tongues searched and found each other. I felt my nipples erecting just as they had when I was on the back of his bike. They were like two torpedoes searching to explode into his chest.

In a frenzy I loosed the ties holding my bikini top in place and let it drop before grinding my nipples into his chest. The sensation was beyond anything I had ever felt. Heat rushed through me centring on my nipples and groin. Even though my mouth was mashed against his lips I mewled. I reached down again and started to push his shorts down so I could touch him. He was so hard and so hot. I knew what was going to happen and I welcomed the anticipation. Richard seemed to be just as out of control as I; when he undid the strings of my bikini bottom I simply shook myself to rid myself of that last defence.

Vaguely I felt the sensation of being lifted and I automatically opened my legs with Richard supporting me with his hands under my thighs like a seat. I was poised to descend on that hot, hard male member. "Yes, Richard yes." I murmured and he slowly let me down. I reached behind me and guided him until the sensation of him filling me was so much that I climaxed. The very first climax of my life, discounting the ones self-administered. On another plane I could still feel his muscles quivering as he supported me. Somehow I knew when his climax was due and he pulled away slightly. "No." I moaned and pushed downwards keeping him inside me feeling those first quivers as he gathered himself to ejaculate. The first squirt seemed to cauterize my vagina, which welcomed his seed as the desert sand would the first drops of water. I climaxed again as he did.

CHAPTER 3 - RICHARD

I could not call it fate that I was there that week. The real reason was the arrogant and self-seeking attitude of one of my fellow cast members a guy named Axel Denniman. We were making a first world war drama set in nineteen fifteen. Whilst the film was set against the background of war, it was really a drama of how the class system in Britain was eroded under the strain of war. I was playing the part of a junior officer. Together with three other subalterns and a Major we were trying to decide how best to capture an enemy officer with the least casualties for ourselves. The answer to our predicament would be provided by a batman corporal who speaking out rashly actually gave us the answer to our problem.

This was the essence of the drama; that enlisted men were not the dumb monosyllabic functionaries as most officers were trained to believe, indeed with the enlistment programme of that time the ranks were being filled with teachers, solicitors, accountants and even university lecturers. Thus the officer corps had to adjust their thinking. It was important to the drama that the actor playing the corporal should deliver the line. Denniman believed that he should deliver the line, therefore boosting his influence on the drama and his personal profile. He shocked us when he delivered the line before the corporal could open his mouth. "Cut!" Shouted the director.

He strolled over and spoke quietly with Denniman and we went for the second take. Denniman did the same thing. "Cut!" Another conference and another take. Same thing. This time there was a lot of shouting between the director and Denniman which ended with the director saying that it Denniman was not going to adhere to the script then they would have to get another actor who would. Tempers had raised and both the director and actor would not back down.

With another take ruined, Denniman was escorted off the set and we all relaxed. The part he was playing was not minor and he could not be replaced by promoting one of the extras. The director and one of the producers were in conference for most of the day. Eventually they announced that shooting was suspended for two weeks as the chosen replacement would not be available until then. As the officers appeared in most scenes they could not shoot around the part. Therefore I had two weeks to kick my heels.

One of the producers, John Lilman approached me. "Richard, what are you going to do with your unexpected holiday?"

"I don't really know, Mr. Lilman."

He nodded. "I have a cottage down on the South Devon coast. I get so busy these days I rarely get down there. Would you do me a favour and take a week or so there?"

"That's very generous of you."

"Not really, Richard. I have a project coming up later this year and I want you in it. Let's say one good turn deserves another."

"Don't tell me it's another war movie."

"Sorry, Richard it is, but it's a multi-national project, so the money will be very good. Your part will be a good one."

"Sounds interesting. Why me?"

"Simple. You turn up on time, you have learned your part, and you have read the whole script not just your part, so you know what the film is about. Then you turn in a good performance. I won't go on else you will get an inflated view of your worth and ask me for more money."

"O.K. Send me the script."

He clapped me on the shoulder. "That's what I like to hear a straight yes and nothing about talking to your agent."

The cottage, as he described it may have been just that at some time in the past, now it was much, much more. The cottage had been built on a spur halfway down a small cove that descended to a miniscule beach. Its situation sheltered the cottage from the all winds except from those that came directly from the south. The accommodation was luxurious with large sliding double-glazed windows in all the living areas and bedrooms. A partially covered terrace gave views over the sea and to one side on a slightly lower level was a swimming pool. The pool was surrounded by high hedges making it a very private place and I suspect the scene of much uninhibited behaviour.

I was surprised to be greeted by a Mr. and Mrs. Warren who were the housekeeper and general factotum. I had thoughts that I may have had to fend for myself, but Mrs. Warren was an excellent cook so I could enjoy my days lazing and reading in the sun. From the terrace, you could see the whole of the cove and the tiny figure that appeared around the headland that day was seen almost immediately. Mr. Warren had seen the figure too and was preparing to go down and warn the person that he or she was on private property.

I had a funny feeling that I knew the person so I told him that I would go down. The feeling of knowing this person became stronger as I neared the beach. There was something about her, and I knew it was a 'her' not a 'he', that reminded me of someone. It was the way she walked, the way she turned her head or looked down. It was easy to walk as the whole beach was washed by the tide. She looked up as I approached and I recognised her. Lady Andrea!

If I described what happened between us as a shock, it would be an understatement. I had no inkling that as we walked and talked within minutes we would be coupled together in the most exhilarating experience of my life. I was still breathing heavily as I lowered myself to the sand Andrea kept her hold until I was kneeling and she sat on my thighs her legs either side of me. Guilt washed over me for taking such advantage and I must have been shamefaced. "Don't look like that, Rich." She said.

"I'm sorry, Andrea. I don't know what came over me."

"I'm not sorry, Rich. It happened. It happened for whatever reason, but I am not sorry. It felt like a primitive instinct, me woman, you man, Mate!"

"I understand that, but we are supposedly of a higher culture. You are married; I can see the ring on your finger. We shouldn't have done that."

"So if you had the chance to think we wouldn't have made love?"

I looked in her eyes and saw something, I don't know what but I sensed that she needed the right words from me. "If I was a logical man I would have walked away. However, I am a man driven by impulses that I don't understand. You are so lovely and have given me something priceless. Making love with you was the most beautiful experience of my life. Having said that some people would have described what we did as rutting."

Andrea laughed delightedly. "It was for me as well, Rich, and I can agree that we rutted very nicely too, although the aftermath of having sand in some very tender places is not."

"Come on." I stood up and helped to her feet. I held out my hand. "Let's go and wash that sand off."

She picked up two miniscule scraps, which was her bikini, and I picked up my shorts. Andrea looked at her bikini bottoms and shook her head. They had sand in them. She looked at me with a cheeky grin. "It seems that bathing 'au naturel' is on the cards."

"Well, I have never seen a sea nymph so lovely before."

"Richard! Are you trying to seduce me?" She stopped short and laughed. "Silly me, you have already done that."

"I thought it was you seducing me?" I bantered.

"A well brought up lady like me doesn't do that." I waited, as I knew she was going to say more. "I shall have to adjust my opinion. Seducing and being seduced was wonderful."

Bathing naked in the sea is to be recommended strongly. The sensations it inspires are beyond imagination. I had never done it before and judging from Andrea's cries of happiness I deduced neither had she. We held hands as we dipped our toes to start. When we ventured into deeper water, the swells pushed us apart. "Rich!" I heard her cry as the waves buffeted her. I sort of half swam and waded through chest deep water and gathered her in my arms.

She clung to me laughing as waves broke over us. Her hair was soaked and hung about her face, a face that was alive with this new experience and then turned sultry as the action of the swells created a friction between our bodies. Wordlessly we turned and made our way back to the strand. My desire for her was obvious as was hers for me. Andrea lay down on the firm-packed sand and held up her arms. I joined her as she murmured, "Yes, yes, yes." The heat we generated was assuaged by the cool wavelets, which washed gently against our legs. The cries of joy and ecstasy were softer this time but no less genuine than before.

We lay clasped in each other's arms in the aftermath, our breathing returning to normal and our hearts recovering a steady beat. Kisses and soft words were exchanged until a wave lifted us slightly. Looking around I could see that the tide was now coming in quite quickly. This was reinforced as Andrea's bikini bottoms floated past on their way out to sea. We got to our feet and I grabbed the voyaging bikini. Andrea rescued her bag before it too took to the sea. I then spotted my shorts still dry but on the point of launching.

She examined her bikini and declared that it needed sluicing out before she could put it back on. We yet again paddled out to knee-deep water and she bent to rinse out her bikini. I was presented with a most delicious sight of her bottom encrusted with sand the salt and quartz sparkling in the sun. Being the gentleman, I bent and started splashing water over those taut globes. Andrea looked around and understood what I was doing. She laughed. "No one had washed my bum since my nanny, and I was about six at the time." She paused. "But I quite like you doing it."

"Nanny!" I exclaimed.

Andrea nodded. "Yes. Mummy died shortly after I was born, so I had a nanny."

"Oh! I'm sorry."

"No need, Rich. It was years ago."

We trudged through the waves back to the beach and Andrea steadied herself with a hand on my arm as she pulled up the wet bikini. The top had been further up the beach and had remained dry. I then pulled on my shorts. I looked along the beach and what I saw was demoralising. I touched Andrea's shoulder and pointed for her to look as well. The tide had come in sufficiently for her passage around the headland to become impossible. "Oh bugger!" She exclaimed. "How am I going to get back now?"

I thought quickly. "You could come up to the cottage and I can take you back later in the car."

"Who else is there?"

"Only Mr. and Mrs. Warren. They seem to be the caretakers." Andrea thought for a while. "Well as there seems to be no other option, that's what I will have to do." She smiled. "It seems Mr. Carter that you are rescuing me again."

"If you keep rewarding me as you have just done, I'll keep on doing it."

"That wasn't a reward. That was my pleasure."

We climbed the path up to the cottage. In the steepest parts, large rocks served as steps. As we were getting near to top, I saw Mrs. Warren come out and wait for us on the lawn where the path finishes. Andrea seemed a little nervous until Mrs. Warren held out a towelling robe. "I thought you could use this, Madam. Perhaps you would like a shower to wash off all that salt."

"That is kind of you, and yes I would like a shower."

Mrs. Warren nodded. "I will put out some lunch on the terrace, just Pate and salad. If you would like to come with me, I show you to the shower. They walked away leaving me to wonder how this had happened.

ANDREA

Mrs. Warren showed me into a bedroom and pointed out the bathroom. "There's shower gel, oils and lotion so please help yourself. I'll get you a hair-dryer, I am sure you will want to wash your hair as well."

"Thank you Mrs. Warren."

"It's no trouble Madam. If you let me have your bikini, I will put it through a quick wash. It will be dry in about an hour."

"Please don't go to any trouble. I have a dress in my bag to put over it. Oh! I am Andrea Seddon; you don't need to call me Madam."

Mrs. Warren homed in on my bag and pulled out the sundress. "Hmm. I'll run an iron over this. Won't take long. Let me have your bikini, Madam." She emphasised the 'Madam' telling me that this was how it was done here. I dare not argue, as she was so positive. I pulled off the bikini top and bottoms and just wearing the robe she had provided went into the bathroom.

I opted for a long shower, washing my hair as well. It was time to relax and reflect on my actions. I had often heard people explain that they didn't mean to do whatever, it just happened. I had a jaundiced view of that excuse, usually thinking 'oh yes?' Now I was using that same excuse. There was no conspiracy here, although others may not believe that. There was no intention, having accidentally met Richard to make love with him. It just happened. OK the first time it did just happen, but I couldn't use that excuse for the second time. Nor could I use that excuse for the next time for I knew I wanted to make love with him again, I wanted to be in this man's arms again, held lovingly with tenderness. I did feel guilt but that was overlaid by the intense pleasure of our loving.

I sat at the vanity mirror in the bedroom and combed out my hair. There was a knock at the door and I called. "Come in." As I expected it was Mrs. Warren.