Becca XXX - Spring Tide Ch. 01

Authors note: - This is a follow on to the previous series, Becca XXX Hard Time. Please read it before reading this or you will not understand the plot or characters.

Becca XXX. Spring Tide. Ch 01.

Dawn raids always made me nervous.

I trusted Natalie with my life, but I knew that once we got started, we were pretty much on our own. We were crouched in the sand dunes ready to make our move down the beach after nearly a week of waiting, planning and second guessing. The early morning mist was still clearing and there wasn't a breath of wind in the air. All we could hear was the squark of seagulls and the crashing of the waves. The salty sea air filled our lungs which brought back happy childhood memories of seaside holidays in this part of the world. Cornwall really was spectacular in the spring.

Sennen Cove had its usual morning chill for this time of year, but we knew that once the sun came up properly, we would be basking in glorious spring warmth. It was just after five-thirty in the morning and the place was almost deserted.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" asked Natalie, looking as sexy as ever with her blonde hair tied back in a pony tail.

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be," I replied, giving her a wink. "Once more into the danger zone and all that."

I made light of our situation, but we were both feeling apprehensive about what was about to come. As usual, we just had to push down any fear we were feeling and rely on our training and confidence to get us through it. If you believe that you can do something then you're half way there.

"It's just the same as yesterday," she pointed out. "Stick close to me and we'll soon be through the worst of it."

"It looks bigger than yesterday," I replied. "It must be pushing six-feet by now, just like the forecast predicted."

"A harder paddle out will give us a better reward once we surf it back in. Come on, Becca bitch, Natalie will keep you safe."

She slapped my ass playfully, picked up her surfboard and moved out from the sand dunes and onto the wet, hard sand.

We'd been in Sennen for over a week on our new assignment and this was all part of our cover story. There wasn't much going on in this part of the world other than tourism, fishing or surfing and we needed to blend in. Two young girls touring around in a campervan and enjoying the spring swell was the perfect cover for us. I'd learned to surf in my late teens and would spend many a weekend in Devon or Cornwall with friends enjoying the Atlantic waves. That was until I'd met Lexa of course. My life had been turned upside down since then and this now felt alien to me after being away from it for so long.

Despite all the dangerous situations I'd found myself in over the past few years, surfing a large swell like this one had me worried. The waves had been increasing all week since we'd arrived and today it was really pumping. We'd parked our camper van at the top car park and then walked down through the dunes to get to the main peak. Sennen Cove was a beach break with the waves breaking over a sandbar. Sandbars usually shifted with the tide, but Sennen was pretty consistent. As the rollers came in from the deep ocean, they would peak in the middle of this particular bay forming perfect peeling waves both to the left and to the right. It was known as an A-frame peak and, on its day, Sennen was world class.

"There're not many out," Nat pointed out as I carried my board along behind her. "The tourists must be still in bed and will miss the best of it."

"That's normal down here," I laughed. "Only the hardcore come down for a dawn raid. By the time the crowds arrive, the wind will have picked up and the morning glass will be gone."

It was always ironic to me that the very same wind that created the swell out in the ocean, could also destroy it at the beach if the conditions weren't right. Huge Atlantic storms in the middle of the ocean would throw waves in all directions which would travel thousands of miles until they found a shore to break on. I didn't understand all the terminology, but I knew that the local wind conditions could make a big swell into excellent surf or an unrideable mess.

Today we were lucky. The lack of local wind meant that the waves were undisturbed and would keep their clean, glassy shape as they dissipated their power into the sand below.

"Did I tell you how sexy you look in that wet-suit?" I giggled, saying the same thing I'd said every time I'd seen her wearing it.

"You might have mentioned it," she smirked back. "And I'm naked under it. I'm not even wearing a swimsuit."

"Me neither," I laughed. "It will give the boys in the car park something to wank off to when they see us getting changed."

"You little prick tease. You're always trying to entice them to fuck you," she tittered. "But we don't need any men at the moment, you're all I need."

"If our past missions are anything to go by, we'll be getting more than our fair share of cock pretty soon," I laughed. "I've really enjoyed spending time with you again."

"Me too," she smiled coyly. "Once you get that wetsuit off, you'll be feeling my tongue and fingers inside your tight little pussy."

"Promises, promises."

We made it to the water's edge and stopped to fit our ankle leashes. The sight of Natalie bending over in front of me wearing her skin tight wetsuit made my head skip a beat. Wetsuits are designed to fit like a second skin and when you had a body as sexy as Natalie's it left nothing to the imagination.

The five-millimetre-thick neoprene hugged every inch of her perfect body, going up the crack of her ass making it look like a peach. It flattened her breasts slightly, but they still looked large and shapely. I was wearing the same suit and we must have looked like sisters to anyone watching us, apart from the colour of our hair.

The tide was on its way in and I felt the first chill of the water washing over my bare feet which made me shudder. I could have worn boots, but I liked the feel of my feet directly on the board.

Sennen Cove's tidal range was huge at almost six meters, but we were currently on neap tides. The size of the tide changed throughout the month depending on the position of the sun and the moon in relation to the earth. When the sun, moon and earth were aligned, very high high-tides and very low low-tides were formed. These were known as spring tides. However, when the sun and moon were at right angles to each other the opposite was true - known as neap tides. During a lunar month two sets of spring tides and neap tides were produced. Spring tides always gave more powerful waves especially on a rising tide due to the gravitational pull of the moon.

"There's a small rip current to the left," Nat said, nodding out to sea. "It'll make the paddle out easier. Follow me out."

"I'll follow that ass of yours into hell and back," I laughed. "Lead the way, you dirty slut."

We waded out through the white water feeling the under current dragging us out. The rip current was basically water flowing back out to sea after the waves had broken. They can be dangerous to the untrained or unwary, dragging people out to their deaths, but if you knew how to use them, they made surfing a hell of a lot easier.

As the water got up to our chests, we both jumped onto our boards and started paddling through the white water. The push of the waves was strong and the turbulence tried to flip us off our boards, but strong deep strokes kept us moving forwards.

Our hair was soon soaked and there's nothing quite like that first slap of freezing cold water in your face to wake you up. Mother Nature was very much in charge here and we were mere passengers being granted the thrill of riding her waves.

As we battled our way out through the relentless waves, my mind flashed back to the real reason we were down here.

Following the demise of Charles Hamilton, the leader of the terrorist group known as The Generals, things had moved quickly. Before he'd died at the hands of his daughter, Sasha, Charles had told me that the Russians were planning some sort of attack on the UK. Even if he'd known what it was, he'd died before he had a chance to tell me. The last words he uttered were the alleged location of the attack - Sennen Cove.

Lexa's team had jumped on the information and had compared notes with other intelligence agencies to try and get some meat on the bones of the alleged attack, but we were still waiting for the intelligence to be passed down the line to us. The whole idea of a Russian attack on the UK seemed far-fetched and the idea of it happening in a sleepy holiday village like Sennen Cove was simply preposterous.

Never the less, Lexa and Ethan had told us to deploy immediately to get eyes on the ground, just in case it was true. Charles had no reason to lie in his dying seconds and he'd already tried to convince me that he had the country's best interest at heart even if his methods had been extreme.

My time in Bronzefield prison had been hard in order to get to Charles through his daughter, but I'd also made some new friends along the way. Naomi and Arrow were now my own personal intel team and an extra source of information. Arrow's autism made her see things differently to other data analysts and hackers, but even she hadn't come back with anything yet.

My arms were beginning to tire from the arduous paddle and each time a wave broke it washed us a little way back towards the shore. It always feels like you're never going to make it out through the break zone and it can be very demoralizing.

"Keep paddling, Becca bitch. We're almost through it," Natalie yelled over the roar of the water. "I can see a lull in the sets."

She was right. As I looked over the cresting waves, I could see that the swell had flattened off a little. The waves usually hit the beach in sets with the largest wave breaking last. Once that happened, we needed to paddle like mad to get to the back of the waves before the next set arrived.

Lying on a fiberglass board level with the surface of the water and looking up at a six-foot wave about to break on your head was a terrifying view. It looked like a huge blue wall curling over at the top ready to pummel you into the sand below. Knowing that the wave behind it was even bigger made it even more perplexing. To get through it, it was all about technique and timing. As the wave approached, we gave a few long powerful strokes to keep us moving forwards. As we got to the bottom of the wave, we pushed the front of our boards down and duck-dived under the wave, kicking out with the back foot to bring us back to the surface after the wave had passed over us.

I'd been practicing the technique all week and had finally mastered it the day before, but it never made it any less worrying. Everything went silent as we submerged into the serenity below. The world seemed to slow down and I could feel the push of the wave as it passed over me, trying to pick me up and drag me back to the beach. I held position and then slowly rose to the surface to a blur of salty eyes and deafening noise as the wave crashed down behind me.

Woosh - swish - crash.

I looked over to see Natalie surfacing next to me with a huge smile on her face.

"Keep going. We should make the next wave without duck-diving. Just paddle up the face and over the top and then we're there," she panted, paddling like a woman possessed.

No sooner had one wave passed when the next loomed up even bigger than the last. Six feet of raw power like a truck coming towards us. I dug in hard with each paddle hoping I was going to make it over the top before the wave broke. My lungs were burning and my arms felt ready to drop off, but I kept going for all I was worth. If I didn't make it, I'd get washed back in to the shore and I'd have to do it all over again from scratch.

Left - right. Left - right. Left - right.

We met the wave head on and felt it lifting us up, trying to take us with it. The white lip of the wave was starting to form and curl as I kept going. Our boards and bodies were now almost vertical as we climbed the face, praying to the sea god that it would let us pass.

Left - right. Left - right. Left - right.

I lifted my head and shoulders off the board, thinking that that would somehow get me over the wave quicker. I could see the flat sea beyond and all I needed to do was make it over this beast and then I could take a break.

The wave reached its peak and began to fold over just as I made it to the top.

Slap.

The lip smacked me in the face as I punched through the thin wall and I suddenly felt weightless as I dropped down the back of the wave.

Crash.

I was almost sucked backwards over the wave as it broke behind me, but I dug in hard and kept paddling. I lost a little ground, being pulled back maybe ten feet by the raw power of the surf, but I was finally out the back.

"Woo-hoo, fuck yeah," cried Nat. "I told you it would be fine."

Natalie was a far better surfer than me and she always got me through the worst of it with helpful tips and encouragement. It had taken a good ten minutes to paddle out and I was exhausted.

"I'm fucked," I panted. "Shit that was hard."

"You love being fucked and you always like it hard," she laughed, giving it a double meaning. "Just chill for a minute before the fun begins."

We both sat up on our boards spreading our legs over the sides and looking out to sea for approaching danger. This was one of the things I loved most about surfing - sitting out the back of the breaking waves and enjoying the feeling of being free. We were gently bobbing up and down as the waves rolled under us before jacking up and finally breaking into a mass of foam and noise.

I could see lines approaching out to the horizon as far as I could see as though some sort of wave conveyor belt was sending them our way one after the other. I had perfect lines, perfect weather and perfect company and an irresistible smile spread across my face.

I was in heaven.

After a few seconds I got my breath back and looked back to the beach. The mist had cleared completely and the white sands and green hills shone back at me in the sunlight. A few other surfers had ventured out and were paddling out to other peaks, looking for solitude. I saw a group of maybe eight fit guys leashing-up at the shore line, slapping each other and joking as they got ready to enjoy the early morning session.

"That's the hard bit over with," laughed Nat. "Just make sure you don't surf too far in or you'll have to go through it all again."

"I know, I always do that. I just can't help but enjoy the ride all the way to the beach. It's always a shame to jump out the back when I'm enjoying it so much," I giggled.

"Well, that's up to you. I'm not coming to your rescue," she paused for a split second as she looked over her shoulder at an approaching set. "Fuck this... there's a set coming in. I'm going for it."

She lay on her board and began to slowly paddle back towards the shore. She needed to line herself up, paddle to match the speed of the wave and then pop-up as the wave peaked before it broke. All of that was an artform in itself and took a lot of practice.

I watched her peachy ass wiggle from side to side as she dug her arms in hard and accelerated as the wave picked her up. For a split second she disappeared from view, the liquid wall closing in on her and blocking my view. She came back into view, standing on her board, crouching low and dropping down the face out of sight. A second or two later she reappeared, kicking off the top lip and dropping back down. This scene was repeated over and over again until the wave ran out and she kicked out of the back and lay back down.

Her face said it all - she was stoked.

Her paddle out would be pretty easy from there, but I knew it was now my turn to drop in and enjoy the feeling that only a surfer understands.

I flipped my board back to shore and lay down as the next wave approached. A quick glance over my shoulder told me it was bigger than Nat's and most definitely the biggest I'd surfed all week. My heart was pounding to get the oxygen around my body and give me the adrenaline I needed to fight the fear. If I got this wrong I' be flipped and rolled inside the wave and tumbled like a pair of dirty knickers in a washing machine until the wave finally let go of me. By that time, I could have run out of breath and drowned, or hit the bottom of the beach and been knocked out. As dangerous as it was to be out in big surf, that's what made it so exciting.

I paddled hard, barely hearing Natalie whooping and hollering words of encouragement at me. I was focused on catching the wave and popping up before it broke on me.

Left - right. Left - right. Left - right.

I felt the wave picking me up and trying to flip me forwards down the face. That was the perfect time to push down with both hands and throw my feet forwards onto the tiny deck of the board. Water washed into my eyes making it difficult to see. I held my breath and felt my left foot hit the tail pad of the board while my right went forwards to the centre. I dropped my body weight and kept low, looking down six feet of pristine glass below me. It was like standing on top of a mountain as the wave carried me with it and I slipped into freefall and glided at ridiculous speed down the face. I could see and feel the shoulder of the wave behind me starting to peel along its face and I kicked the board right to stay ahead of it before it washed over me.

The blue mass of water walled up to my right as I headed for the pit. The sun was momentarily blocked out by the shade of the wave and my heart was in my mouth.

'Bottom turn, Becca. Make the bottom turn,' I said to myself inside my head.

I dug in with the tail of the board and turned my shoulders towards the wave as I hit the bottom. The board slowed and the wave lifted me back up its face with me heading towards the sky. Any fear I had during the drop in was now gone.

I was surfing.

I cannot describe the feeling of complete and utter freedom to be at one with nature and harness the power of the swell for nothing but pleasure. It was almost as good as sex. It gave me a fluttering in my belly like the pre-orgasmic build up before a monumental climax, I felt warm, contented, and complete.

As I approached the top of the wave, I kicked hard off the lip to prevent me from flying over the back of the wave and then I turned my shoulders and hips back down the face, dropping into the pit once more. The white water from the breaking section followed me along as I repeated the process over and over.

Down - bottom turn.

Up - off the lip.

Down and across.

Cutting back to the shoulder and dropping in again.

My movements were smooth and flowing like the water beneath me. It almost felt like I was moving in slow motion and floating on air to match the movement of the beast I was surfing.

As the wave started to close out, I accelerated up the face and kept going until the wave passed under me and left me behind. I flopped down onto my board and began to paddle back out before the wave behind broke on me.

Endorphins flowed through my veins like the afterglow of sex. I was relaxed and tingling all over as though I'd just been fucked to oblivion. That was the feeling of being stoked that surfers always talked about. The battle to get through the violence and turbulence of the waves was replaced with something else - ecstasy. I was never sure if it was the fact I'd survived a dangerous situation or the that I was at one with mother nature, but the feeling was beyond compare.

I knew that my pussy was wet and it wasn't just from the salt water. I'd practically creamed myself with excitement and it must have been written all over my face as I paddled back out to Nat.