A Short Story - Emily Pt. 01

I was sat on my towel in my tiny bikini when she walked up to me. She was dressed for the summer sun, but not for the beach.

"Can I sit with you? You look like you need company."

I don't I thought. But she looked elegant in her almost see through, very short cinched at the waist dress. Her hair was long and jet black, her skin was white as snow.

Her dark eyes stared with a sultry confidence and her smile was natural.

"Sit." I spoke. And she did. She placed her handbag down, took out her cigarettes offering one to me. I declined and watched as she lit. Fresh tobacco filled the air and passed, a cloud of smoke shot from her mouth and nostrils before she quickly inhaled.

"I'm Emily." She held out a hand, I shook it.

"Sharon." I replied.

"You look like a Sharon. What brings you to Camber Sands."

"My day off..." I start.

"...So, I was watching. I was sat on the wall with my ice cream. I wondered, what would it take to get you home. Will you go to bed with me?"

I laugh. I look at her feet and her knees. Her skirt sits in her lap. I can see her bush.

"I'm probably old enough to be your mother!" I return.

She smiles, and breathes out more smoke. She looks away. "And..."

"Do you usually ask women to go to bed with you so soon after meeting?"

She drags on her cigarette and flicks into the sand. The wind blows in her hair. "Only when I'm certain."

"Oh, and what makes you so certain, I will?"

She leans back on her hands and closes her eyes facing into the sun. I look at her porcelain skin, her breasts, and her crotch. I swallow and glance at the sea.

"I'm me." She smiles still, exuding confidence. I notice her more, her breasts are bigger than mine, her legs are long, not quite skinny, but they look smooth. My tanned legs are runners' legs, with muscle and shape, I doubt she runs. She probably eats infrequently and smokes too much.

Her hand holds mine. "Well?"

"How do you know I like girls?"

"I know you do. I can smell you." She chuckles. "You have a different one every week. You hide behind those sunglasses, but I see you looking. Your long sandy hair, your fit body. You're a slut, and you're tempted."

I pretend I'm shocked, but I'm shocked she seems to know me. My blue bikini bottoms dampen. I picture me fucking her, bending her over, only after I've kissed her tits.

"Well, I want to know, back to mine, or do I resume my search?" She places her hand between my legs. "Moist..." She sniffs her fingers, "...you will." She kisses my lips and stares into my eyes. "I'm 22, before you ask, and you, you're..." She pauses to look me over. "40."

"How'd you guess?"

She shrugs. "I know women. They're like a fine wine. Your tits are small." She plays with my pink bikini top, and circles my nipple with her fingernail. Her smile forms again as I erect. My pussy leaks.

"You're on heat, now. You smell strong."

She's right, and I want her now. "Ok, where do we go?"

She stands and picks up her bag. "Just there." She nods to a smart little bungalow and I collect my things and hold her hand. My imagination wild with the things I'll do to her.

In five minutes, we are kissing in a lounge looking across the beach. Her dress on the floor and her hand in my bottoms. Her beauty takes my breath away, I'm bewildered by her touch. Soon I'm naked, being sensually fucked. I watch her head between my legs, her hair is like silk in my fingers.

On my knees her face licking my arse, like I've never been anally thrilled before.

Her hands stroke and squeeze my skin. My body shakes, throbs and buzzes.

I don't know what time I awoke with a smile. But it's cold and dark. The house a dilapidated wreck. There's no sign of Emily, as I dress. I wonder out the ruin and through weeds to the dark beach.

Beautiful song chimes from the darkness, the melody over the lapping shore. I can't but follow the dulcet tones. The voice is strangely familiar, calling.

The cold seawater washes over me, the siren takes my hand.