Lost Among The Sand Dunes

[Author's note: 40 degrees Centigrade is 104 degrees Fahrenheit if you're more used to those units; after all, the story is set a few hours north of Perth in Western Australia, not Perth, Scotland]

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LOST AMONG THE SAND DUNES

Suzanna watches the road carefully.

"I always miss it," she says, "Dave, are you looking too?"

"Yeah, every time. It's just coming up, round the bend."

"I don't want to have to backtrack."

"Just keep your eye out. It's coming up."

Suzanna grips the steering wheel, then reaches out to fiddle with the aircon again.

"Hey, the car says it's coming up to thirty-five, Dave. Might get to forty tomorrow, the man said this morning."

"Suze, it'll be fine. Got to that up here all the time when I was a kid, we were fine."

"I just worry."

Dave turns around and looks into the back.

"See, she's fast asleep. She's fine."

"But she's in the aircon now."

"If it gets too much we just leave, head back to Perth. She'll be right."

"Head back to aircon."

Dave points quickly and Suzanna has to brake hard, but it's okay because there's no-one behind them. This far up the coast, the Indian Ocean road is deserted.

"Shit, nearly."

"Just keep an eye out, Suze, or we'll have to backtrack."

They turn off the sealed road onto a track, bumping along in the dirt.

"How's Bridge?" Suzanna asks, negotiating around the furrows in the sandy soil.

"She's awake now. Go steady."

"I'm going steady."

"Yeah, just take your time."

"Sure. Just, can you look at Bridge?"

"Yeah, no worries."

Dave unclips his seat belt and leans between the front seats into the back.

"Bridget," he murmurs, "Hey, sleepyhead."

"She okay?" Suzanna asks.

"She's fine," he calls out, bracing himself as the car lurches. "Just watch out."

"I am watching out. I'm trying," she snaps, then turns her head. "Bridget, you okay baby?"

"She's okay, just keep your eyes on the road."

Dave drops back into his seat.

"I just worry it's going to be too warm for her, Dave."

"Then we drive back down to Perth. It'll be fine."

Dave points. "Go left. Just keep it slow."

"I know, you don't have to say."

They crawl along a sandy track winding through sand dunes, between shacks and makeshift homes. It splits into two and then diverges again, like they're navigating to the headwaters of a dry river.

"The windmill, see it?"

"Yep. I know where I'm going."

"Just keep it slow."

"I know, Dave. You don't have to keep telling me."

They stop at the house with the windmill on the roof.

"It's not spinning."

"There's no wind."

"It better be charged."

"Suze, it'll be fine. It'll be fully charged, and there's always wind. After lunch, it'll come up off the ocean, you'll see. There's always wind in the arvo."

They park and get out, leaving their all-wheel-drive in the scant shade next to the wall of the house.

"Christ, Dave, that's warm already."

"You go in, I'll get Bridget out of her seat. I'll unpack."

"No, let me get her. Then you can just unpack."

Suzanna opens the back door and unclips their daughter from her seat harness.

"She's sleepy still. I'll get her some lunch."

"Okay, babe."

Dave watches as she strokes their daughter's head. The diamond flashes on her finger, caught in the sun, then Suze is cuddling the toddler's head against her shoulder to keep the sun out of her eyes. He watches them go around the side of the house, Suzanna in a light blue cotton dress that comes down to her knees. She's barefoot in the sand, slim with blonde hair in a bun to keep it out of the way in the heat. He opens up the back and loads up with luggage.

After, they're sat on the deck in the shade. Suzanna is in the hammock, her daughter nestled on her chest, stripped down to just a nappy and bare skin.

"You wanna go cool down?" Dave asks.

"I will, but it's too strong. I'll go down with Bridge later."

"I might go now, then we can go later, together."

"Sure."

Dave gets up.

"Suncream," his wife calls after him.

"Already did."

"You'll burn. Even you."

"I know. I already did."

"Okay then."

Dave shrugs and makes his way down between the bushes to the sea, tiptoeing through the sand. It's scorching his feet so he burrows down with each step to the layer underneath, moving quickly until he's down at the water where the sand is cooler. Without breaking stride, he wades into the clear blue waters, feeling the merciful relief of the cool against his skin. A wave comes up and he dives under, and in a couple of dozen powerful strokes he's out the back, bobbing in the waves behind the surf zone. There isn't a cloud in the peerless blue vault of the sky.

He turns back in, finding the sand underfoot again, choosing his spot as the waves rear up. He launches into them, windmilling mightily with both arms until he's skimming over the water, body surfing down the front of the wave. Eventually, he is consumed in the bubbling froth, and turns, heading back out for the next one.

Later, a girl comes down. She's in a bright pink bikini, contrasting against her rich, tanned skin, her dark hair tied up, stepping carefully on the scalding beach in sand shoes, carrying a towel. He watches her arrange the towel on the sand and then come down to the water. Dave turns for another wave, but his timing's off and he's swamped, rolling under in the surf until the power of the water subsides and he can surface. He shakes the water from his face to see that the girl is swimming out to him now. She waves as she approaches, smiling at him. When she gets to him, she wraps her arms tightly around his neck. Dave gives her an almighty hug.

"Hey," she says, "I've missed you."

She kisses him on the cheek.

"Hi Chelse," he replies, "I've missed you too. Did you get up here alright?"

The girl breaks off, splashing in the water, and they both duck under the next wave. She surfaces again and wipes the water from her face.

"It felt like hours," she says with a grimace.

"It was hours."

"I know, but with Mum, it's longer. How about you?"

Dave shrugged, turning to the next wave. It was too small and they both bobbed up, letting it pass under them.

"We're good. Suze is back up at the house with your sister. She says it's too hot."

"She's right. Mum's gonna be a nightmare."

They let the next wave pass.

"How's Rob?" Dave asks, after a while.

"Same."

"I thought he'd be down here straight away."

"Nah, he's sorting out the house while Mum flops in the chair. She put him to work."

"I bet."

The next wave rears up.

"Chelsea, this one."

"Yeah, Dad, see you on the beach."

He watches his daughter turn, her lithe figure flashing easily through the water and he follows. The wave crests and he's hurtling forward, emerging from the spume into clear air. He looks to his left, glimpsing flashes of pink bikini and unravelled, long dark hair, and then they're both swallowed by the dying wave.

Afterwards, they make their way back up the beach, talking about little things. Dave doesn't ask about Rob, but he's catching up on Chelsea's week.

"Rob took us all down to Margaret River," she says, "They got drunk on wine and I just sat there."

"Not fun?"

"Nah. Fleur was being a cow on the chat as well, so I kinda just had to zone out."

"You put your phone down? Chelse, that's massive."

"I'm growing up, hey," she replies, a little smile on her face.

Dave stops.

"Dad, what?"

"Nothing."

"No, what?"

Dave shakes his head and starts walking again. "You look so much like your Mum when you do that."

They pad through the sand and up through the bushes, in among the shacks. Dave isn't going back to his place, he's following his daughter. They arrive at a larger place with an upstairs balcony, one of the more elaborate constructions in among the sand dunes. A man is on the balcony and he waves as they approach. He ducks inside and by the time they reach the front, he's at the door. He surges forward, hand out. Dave shakes it.

"Dave, mate, how are ya?"

"Good, Rob. You?"

"All good mate. Geez, she's a scorcher today, hey."

"Yeah, she's a hot one. You should get in the water and cool down."

"I will, I will. Just opening up the maison. You going back down to the beach later?"

"Yeah. Suze is gonna take Chelsea down when the sun's a bit lower."

"Sounds good. We can do sundowners on the beach, I brought a slab of tinnies up from Perth. I might need some more ice, though. Not looking so good in the heat."

"Yeah. I got a mobile fridge," Dave replies, "Runs off twelve-volt power, so I got it hooked up to the batteries."

"Smart man. I should get me one of those."

There's movement behind Rob and Dave looks over his shoulder.

"Dave, hi."

The woman is wrapped in a kaftan with a wide-brimmed straw sunhat pressed down onto dark hair that twists in ringlets over her shoulders.

"Hi," Dave responds, then follows up with, "It's hot."

"Yeah, you bet. My hair's already frizzy," she replies, "I'm gonna look like a poodle by the end of the day."

She slips an arm around Rob's waist and gives him a peck on the cheek before looking back to Dave.

"You alright there Dave? Sunscreen? You're gonna burn, even with your skin."

"I'm all good. Born to it."

She smiles. "Rob was talking about doing a barbie tonight. You guys wanna come over? We can get together."

"Sure. I'll let Suze know."

"Rob's invested," she continues, patting Rob's shoulder, "New barbie. It's a monster."

Rob grins. "Heavy as hell, but it's the biz."

"We got enough gas, honey?"

"Yeah, Sam, we got enough gas."

"And ice?"

Rob falters. "Yeah, I was saying to Dave, might not."

"Beers, though?"

"Yeah, plenty."

"But not enough ice to keep them cool. Oh, baby."

Sam sticks out her bottom lip, making a little sad face.

"Ah shit. Okay, Sam. I'll do a run into Cervantes."

Sam brightens. "Tonic water too, babe, if you're going. Need to hydrate in this weather."

She turns and goes back into the house.

"Let me show you the beast," Rob tells Dave.

Dave follows him around the side. There's a new barbeque sitting on the sandy ground, gleaming in the sun.

"She's a ripper," Dave says, "Not cheap, I bet?"

"Nah, fucking cost a bomb, but I reckon we're spending a lot of time up here so might as well put some of the bank account to good use."

Dave opens the hood, making a show of inspecting it.

"Business going good, Rob?"

"Ah, going off like a frog in a fucking sock at the moment. I can't keep up. I need a break, to be honest. Hey," Rob says, then breaks off.

Dave looks up. "What?"

"Uh, it's our two-year anniversary next month. I was thinking of taking Sam to Hawaii, surprise her. I was wondering if, well, Chelsea was okay to stay with you. I'm thinking two weeks."

"Sure. No worries."

"You're a mate."

"Yeah."

They go inside, into the shade of the house.

"I'm thinking about putting aircon in," Rob says. "Sam's family are fine with it."

"It's not the family that'd be the issue, I'd think. How'd you run it?"

"Solar, and those new batteries. I think we can go completely off-grid."

The stairs creak and Dave looks up to see Sam coming down to them. "We're already off-grid. There's nothing in Grey, hon, it's just sand dunes and shacks. Grandad Pope hauled all this up from Perth himself."

"We could upgrade."

Sam approaches Rob and takes his face in her hands. She gives him a soft kiss on the lips.

"There you go again, over-investing," she murmurs, "Some bits of life are better if you just leave them rough around the edges."

Sam turns, calling out, "Chelse, Rob's gonna shoot through to Cervantes, did you want to stay here or ride along?"

Chelsea appears from the bedroom. She's wearing a white wraparound kaftan in the same style as her mother, contrasting vividly against her dark skin. She looks at father, then her mother and pauses for a moment. She shrugs.

"Sure. It's cooler in the car."

She's watching Dave closely.

"I'll go with Rob. We can look in the shops."

Chelsea passes her father, giving him a little squeeze on the arm. She stops at the door, glancing back over her shoulder at Rob, saying, "We should be about an hour, I reckon."

Chelsea steps outside into the bright sunlight. Dave nudges a trickle of sweat from his dark, close-cropped hair, watching as Rob picks up his keys and follows on behind. Sam's eyes flick from her husband to Dave and back again.

"Drive safe, honey," she says, "And remember the tonic water."

"Sure. Got it," Rob replies and heads out into the heat.

There is a silence.

"Fuck, it's hot," Sam says, "Like when we were kids up here."

"It's a dry heat though."

"You're built for it."

"You adapted well enough."

Sam laughs, "Yeah, me with my English skin."

Dave turns to her. "Yeah," he said.

"I had to make adaptations for the climate," she continues, stepping closer to him, "I didn't have the local bloodline to fall back on."

They hear the roar of an engine coming to life, and then fade into the distance. There is silence again. Sam reaches up to her neck and tugs at the material knotted there.

"Sam, hey."

"Hey what? I'm adapting to the climate."

She pulls and the fabric drops away, down to her waist. She's wearing nothing underneath. She slips off her sunhat and drops it onto the bare wooden floor.

"I really... uh... Sam."

Sam smiles, her fingers interlaced at her waist, her pale skin already slick with her sweat. Dave's gaze shifts from her face to her breasts.

"Just like when we were kids," she says, reaching behind her back. The rest of the kaftan tumbles to the ground, revealing tiny, pale blue bikini bottoms.

"You were nine," Dave grunts, "You looked different. A lot, uh, different."

"And every Easter, you remember?" Sam continues, "Every year, that shy bit at the start of the first day and then picking up where we left off. You in your little shorts and me in my bikini."

"I remember, Sam, but...."

"Do you remember that blue bikini?" Sam interjects, "That year? I chose it especially."

"Yeah, I do."

"You remember the sand dunes that year?"

"Fuck, Sam," Dave gasps, "Where's this going?"

She steps closer to him, her pale body moving like a cat.

"Remember how hot it was that year too? How old were we then?"

Dave takes a step back, "About the same age as Chelsea is now. Sam, what are you doing?"

Sam takes a step forward, smiling. "It got up to forty that Easter, we were so hot, do you remember?"

"But it was a dry heat," Dave replies, stepping back again, but feeling the edge of the table against his legs.

Sam takes another step. "Wasn't dry for long," she murmurs.

Sam advances again, and she's within touching distance, close enough for Dave to see the beads of sweat pricking her bare cleavage.

"We can't do this," Dave rasps.

Sam reaches out, touching his bare chest, pale hand against sun-blessed skin.

"Can't we?" she murmurs.

Dave watches, an expression of helplessness on his face, as Sam hooks her free hand into her bikini bottoms and slips them down her legs. She steps out of them and her hand strokes up his thigh, over the dampness of his swim-shorts, to rest on the growing bulge between his legs. She grins.

"It's just like old times, isn't it?"

Dave raises his hands to push her away, but Sam is nimble, leaning forwards so that he finds himself cupping her breasts. She closes her eyes, her thumb tracing a line over the bulge in his shorts.

"Sam, why are you doing this? We're not... uh... we...."

His words are cut off as Sam leans in to kiss him. She is soft and gentle, pressing her breasts against him as she strokes his swelling manhood through the material. There is a moment of stillness and then Dave's hands close over her breasts. She sighs.

They kiss, Dave backed up against the table, his fingers teasing her nipples. She slides his shorts down, revealing him, stripping him naked. Her fingers wrap around his engorging shaft.

"Just like old times," she murmurs, "Just for old time's sake."

Before Dave can reply, she goes up on her tiptoes, tilting her hips. She positions him at her entrance and then bears down. It's done in a matter of moments, and then he's inside her and she's working her way up and down, each time taking him gradually further until he's embedded to his root. She sinks down onto him completely and then lets out a long, low sigh, wrapping her arms tightly around him.

"Fuck, that feels so much better," she groans, "I was getting so sticky in the heat."

Sam's hands are on his buttocks now, and she's lifting, pushing him backwards. Dave understands and pulls himself up onto the tabletop, until he's sitting on it with Sam straddling him.

"Just like that, Dave, just there. Let me."

She is rising and falling now, taking him into her completely with each stroke. She cradles his head, pulling his face into her cleavage. Dave reacts, his hand cupping her breasts, directing first one nipple and then the other into his mouth. Sam squeals.

"I've missed this," she giggles.

Dave responds, releasing her breasts and bracing his hands on the tabletop so that he can push up to meet her. She gasps and wraps herself around him, entwining suntanned skin with pale as their bodies move together. Her hands explore his flesh, reaching down to feel the muscles of his buttocks contracting as he thrusts into her. Her fingers dig in.

Dave is grunting softly with the effort of each stroke, supporting both their bodies now. Sam moves on him too, her abdomen rippling as she grinds her crotch against him, feeling him fill her, feeling his motions becoming more urgent.

Their bodies are slick with the heat of the day and their passion, sliding noiselessly over each other as they build. Sam's hands slide up the strong, toned back of her ex-husband, tracing the contours of his body upwards until she's running her fingers up his neck and through his hair.

"Dave, yes. There... uh... yeah, there."

He seems to understand, driving up harder, making her breasts bounce with each stroke. She pulls his head tightly against her chest again, her eyes screwed shut as she concentrates on the feeling of him inside her. She bares her teeth, her breath hissing through as she approaches her climax.

The body beneath her is glistening now. Dave is panting hard with the effort, his skin slick. Sam bears down on him, making little squealing sounds with each stroke, but now she's changing, the squeals beginning to run together into an endless, mewling noise. Encouraged, Dave's pace quickens, pounding into her relentlessly, gasping for air, his thighs quivering with the strain.

Abruptly, Sam arches back, bracing her hands on his knees, face turned up towards the ceiling and her breasts high and proud. She cries out, but there are no words, just a high, tumbling sound from her throat. Beneath her, as if waiting for the signal of Sam's climax, Dave's desperate motions suddenly become erratic and then his arms swing out, enfolding his ex-wife in a powerful embrace, pulling her down and into him while his groin pulses over and over. Sam clutches at his back fiercely, shuddering in ecstasy as the man beneath her empties himself inside her.

They are frozen in the prickly heat, skin gleaming with sweat, entwined on the tabletop for what seems like an age, as if the moment of ecstasy has transformed them both from flesh into sculpture. At last, Sam loosens her grip and leans back. She's panting with the exertion, looking down into Dave's eyes but not saying anything. She raises her hips, cupping her hand against her crotch to stem the mess. Her eyes are on his groin, glistening with the mixture of their fluids. Gingerly, she backs away off the table, standing in front of him with a little sly smile on her face, her hair in glorious disarray.