Summer's Eve Pt. 04.5: Intermezzo

Oh boy.

Where should I start?

If you read the title of this story you probably realize that this is not the final chapter. Sorry. Part 5 is nowhere near being done in its current state. 2016 has been an extremely busy year for me. I now work very long and very tiring shift, leaving me wanting only to eat and sleep when I get home. As you might imagine, it's hard to write anything - even less something of good quality - when you are asleep. But a girl still got to eat, you know, so there's not much I can do about it. Tragedy struck when the document containing the primary draft for chapter 5 was corrupted beyond saving. I lost everything. It did not do wonders for my creativity, resulting in me putting the project on the shelf for a few months. But I am working on it. I want to and will finish the story. Eventually. Hopefully. Probably this year when my schedule opens up a little.

Long story short - we have no choice but to wait. This short episode here is what I managed to scrape together over the course of two afternoons and a sleepless night. It's a bit different from the other chapters and isn't really a part of the main plot, but it does allow me fit in some action that wouldn't fit into the actual story. I hope you will enjoy it.

All your feedback, comments and criticism have been overwhelming. Thank you a lot, it does inspire me to improve my writing and continue creating stories. Please - keep sending me comments and emails. I love reading them. Also feel free to send me suggestions and ideas for future short stories. When I'm finally done with Summer's Eve I will be trying out some one-off episodes. I'll be glad to read your suggestions.

Anyway. Here's Chapter 4.5

I hope you enjoy it.

*****

The wind was strong tonight. Strong, playful and eager. It came rolling in from the sea driving the waves before it, whipping them until they were frothing with sea foam and came crashing down over each other on their race towards land. The wind came with them, hurrying them onward until they furiously threw themselves against the shore. They crashed and bubbled, sending splashes of salt water in all directions, but their strength was not enough to conquer the land. Time and time again the upswash had to retreat back into the sea.

The salty wind caught hold of long, loose hair. Overjoyed with its new toy it began tugging at it, whipping it around the woman's face and playing with the blonde strands to its heart's content. It found the long and flowing hemline of the dress too and made it flap like a banner around the slender body. Helena took a deep breath and filled her lungs with the taste of the night-time sea. Cool. Fresh. Salt. Her lonely figure was standing at the beach, face turned to the sea. She watched the waves turn and churn as they bubbled with foam, her ears filled with their voice. It was an endless whisper, deep and powerful. A constant heartbeat of the sea beating against land. The horizon was dark. A black sky merged with an even blacker sea, seamlessly blending heaven and earth into one whole. No stars were lit tonight. Only the moon was there - huge and round, basking in its own silver glow.

Helena looked around and the wind blew her hair into her face. Her midnight-blue dress was strongly flapping around her bare legs. She brushed the hair out of her face and held it in place behind her ear. Her eyes scanned the beach. It was long and almost completely flat, the low sandy dunes stretching for what seemed like an eternity in all directions. Wherever she looked she saw no grass or trees, only sand. Like the whole world was just this - a beach and a sea rolling against it. The sand rustled softly under her bare feet as she began walking along the waterline. Occasionally the upswash caught her feet and swept away the sand sticking to her skin, but it was too weak to pull her out into the sea. Each time it had to relent and be content with simply washing away her footsteps behind her.

Helena continued her search. What was she looking for, you may ask? She was not sure herself. She just knew that she had to search, that she had to find what she was looking for. It was the reason for why she was here at this lonely beach. Helena clasped her hands in height with her stomach and looked to the sea again. The waves that came rolling towards her were still gentle. Playful but harmless. The breeze was merciful. For now it was, at least. As if to prove a point a spray of salt water hit her. It dripped down her bare arm, neck and face. It felt warm and inviting. She had to admit that the sea did look welcoming tonight. But she could not swim in it. Not now, no matter how much the waves beckoned her and the wind whispered in her ears. She continued her journey forward. Searching. Something cracked beneath her left foot. A shell, whitened by the wind and sun laid broken beneath it. She wiped the brittle shards of against the sand and continued forward. Ever forward.

A man was standing in the distance. Somehow she immediately knew it was a man. Even more - she knew that she had reached her search's end.

"Jack?"

The wind helpfully carried her voice across the beach. The man did not seem to hear her. His stance remained the same, arms crossed behind his back and eyes fixed on something out at sea.

"Jack?"

Helena spoke louder now, and yet the man did not react. Was he deaf? Or was he just ignoring her? She quickened her pace and began heading towards him. In the moonlight his white tuxedo seemed to be shimmering with a glow of its own. It was spotless and pure, perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders and towering stature. A white top hat was perched on top his head, somehow managing to stay in place despite the best efforts of the wind.

"Jack!" Helena called.

She was running now. She had raised her dress up to avoid stumbling and hurried towards the white-clad figure. The sand found its way in-between h her toes and in under her toes. She had always hated that sensation, she remembered.

Now the man turned his head. Slowly and unhurriedly as if there was not a single worry in the entire world that could possible require his attention. Helena stopped at a distance of exactly ten steps away from him. The switch from running to freezing in place was as sudden as if her feet had merged with the earth. Her dress began once again flapping and the wind, noticing that she was distracted, plucked the hair from behind her ears and began playing with it anew.

"Helena." Jack said politely. "Good evening."

"Good evening." She muttered. "What are you doing here?"

"Just enjoying the evening."

Jack's turned back to face the sea again. His chest and shoulders slowly rose and fell as he deeply sighed. The wind tried nipping at the hemline of his brilliantly white tuxedo but must have found it boring - to little area to grab a hold of - and returned to playing with Helena's hair and dress instead.

"It's not evening." Helena said. "It's in The middle of the night."

"Maybe it is." Jack replied. "Then it's good night."

"What are you doing here?"

"Just enjoying the night."

Helena rolled her eyes.

"But why? It's the middle of the night. We should be sleeping, and you're forcing me to run around looking for you."

"Sorry. You don't have to do it."

"Then go to bed."

"No."

"No?" a hint of motherly sternness came through in Helena's voice. "What do you mean no? Come back."

"No."

Jack's eyes were searching the horizon. Thoughtfully and slowly. Dark orbs with embers glowing somewhere behind them. A white silk ribbon fastened to his hat was fluttering in the wind.

"Why?" Helena asked. Her heart was beating hard in her chest. Nervous butterflies were in her stomach.

For a long while Jack said nothing. He kept watching the sea with his arms behind his back. His face was calm, if thoughtful - a wrinkle going down between his brows made it look like he was lost in deep and focused thought, pondering the very nature of the world.

"Jack." Helena said. "Come back."

"Come back where?"

She didn't know. She actually didn't know. She just knew that she needed him to.

"Just come back."

"No."

The wind finally caught a hold of his top hat. Triumphantly it launched it into the air, sending it spinning away through the night like a strange tube-like flying saucer spacecraft. Transfixed Helena followed its flight. The wind carried it out to sea, further and further away until the darkness swallowed it up and it was gone forever.

"Your hat." She said. "It blew away."

"I know."

Jack sighed again and raised his hands to his neck. He undid the upper button of his tuxedo and moved on to the second. Then third. Then fourth. By the time Helena fully realized what he was doing he was already at the last one.

"What are you doing?"

The question was rhetorical and yet appropriate. Jack freed his arms from the tuxedo and then, with a casual flick of his hand, let it fall into the sand.

"Jack?" Helena asked. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going for a swim."

He did not even bother to unbutton his shirt. He ripped it open and sent buttons flying in all directions. His torso came to view and Helena's gaze was instantly drawn towards it. The perfect black skin. The strong muscles beneath it. The way they moved with such ease and elegance. Her throat went dry.

"What, now?" she stuttered. "In this weather? In the middle of the night?"

Jack stepped out of his trousers. His shoes were already discarded in the sand next to his jacket and shirt.

"Ja..."

Helena's voice died out mid sentence. Jack was naked now. Completely butt-naked. She was gazing at his body. Drinking it in with her eyes. How she wanted it. Every inch and centimetre of it. His cock swayed somewhat between his legs when he turned towards her. He smiled lightly.

"You can come with me if you want."

"What?"

He did not answer. Instead he turned to the sea again and began walking. The upswash washed over his feet and he followed it as it was sucked back out into the sea. Helena stared at his muscular back as he ventured further and further out. The water reached his shins and then his knees. His thighs. Now the tip of his cock dipped into the dark water. Already the sea was bubbling around his waist.

"Wait!" Helena cried, finally finding his voice. "Come back!"

Jack raised his arms into the air - a pair of perfect, masterfully chiselled muscle-bound arms mounted on powerful shoulders - and dove forward. The sea swallowed him up in an instant.

There was no time to lose.

The waves were already trying to steal Jack's tuxedo - one of the upswashes had even managed to grab a hold of its right sleeve before it was forced to roll back into the sea. Helena tore off her dress, squeezing out of its tight, body-hugging shell and mindless of the expensive fabric she might break in the process. She pulled it over her head and let the wind rip it from her hand. She was naked now. Completely naked. Breasts rising and falling with each jagged and nervous breath, her hair loose and whipping around her head. She ran forward. The water grasping at her feet was warm. It lured her further and further out in the direction of where she had seen Jack disappear.

"Jack!" she cried. "Come back!"

But her plead was in vain. Nobody heard it, and if someone did then no one answered it. Helena fought her way forward, the water now reaching her knees. She could feel the sea sucking her further out. Helena cast herself forward and sunk like a stone. Where she a moment ago had felt the bottom she was suddenly sinking into the abyss. Instead of white soft sand there was only blackness beneath her. With strong arm strokes and kicking her legs she fought her way back to the surface. It exploded in a cascade of water when her head broke through it. She desperately searched her surroundings with burning eyes.

There he was. She could see him swimming up ahead. With calm but immensely powerful crawl strokes he was leaving her and the beach further and further behind. He was heading out to sea. Angry Helena sat course after him.

Breathe. Turn your head to the side to get your air. Work your arms. Stroke after stroke. Breathe out into the water. Kick your legs. Rinse, repeat. Breathe. Swim. Forward.

She closed the distance. She could see him swimming right in front of her. He was strong and quick, but she was no amateur either. She could swim. Helena caught up with him and now they were swimming side by side. He turned his head to look at her and his eyes gleamed. No, it was not the moon's silver glow reflecting in them. The light was their own. A flame caught in the polished surface of a black agate stone.

The water kissed Helena's naked body. It caressed every part of her. It was warm. So warm. It flowed around her breasts, traced the slender shape of her waist and then outwards along her hips. Helena's sex was aflame and the sea kissed it, both cooling and teasing it at the same time. It followed her legs and whirled around her kicking feet.

Her arm brushed against Jack's shoulder. She felt his skin against hers. The next moment Helena felt strong hands seizing her wrists and she was pulled into his embrace. His arms wrapped around her, too big and too strong for her to resist. She didn't fight them. She couldn't fight them. She found his mouth and kissed him. His lips were sweet. Soft and yet dominating. Her body was tightly pressed against his and squeezing all air from her lungs. She was going to drown, she realized. She had no strength to stay afloat. Her legs were no longer threading water and her arms were wrapped around Jack's back, too busy holding him to keep her from sinking.

She sank into darkness. Deeper and deeper down into the abyss.

There was no bottom or seabed. She would sink forever.

The water receded reluctantly. It rushed down Helena's body, cascading like a waterfall down her breasts, belly and butt. She slowly opened her eyes. The moon was just above her and she was shining straight down at Helena, greater and brighter than she had ever seen it in her life. She heard the sea lapping against the shore and its deep whisper in her ears, but she was no longer drowning in it. She moved her eyes and saw Jack. He was not looking at her and she could only see the bottom side of his chin and jaw. He was carrying her out of the sea, the water fruitlessly trying to seize him and hold him back by his ankles. One arm was supporting her back and shoulders, the other was holding her in the bend of her knees. There was no strain in his muscles or effort on his part. In his arms Helena was weightless. Lighter than a feather. Her blonde hair stuck wetly to his chest and arm. Helena closed her eyes again and rested her head against him. His heart was beating against her ear like a great drum, deep and slow.

Jack set her down on the ground. Helena felt fine sand against her naked ass and back, felt it softly shift and move beneath her weight. A fine layer of it immediately coated her wet skin. She didn't care anymore. Jack was towering above her. Tall. Huge. Perfect. A Greek god in the flesh. Helena's eyes traced his six-pack, the finely defined 'V' of his pelvic muscle. Her gaze was drawn to his cock. It was growing. Slowly but surely extending in length and girth. Ebony in colour. The foreskin was pulling back, revealing more and more of the smooth, helmet-like tip. Helena wanted it. She wanted all of it.

Helena slid her hands down her body. From her neck and along her breasts, the nipples crowning them hard and pointy and then further down still, passing her smooth, taut belly. Her right palm went down the slope of her mound in between her legs. Her cunt was hot and slick. Helena's index finger slipped inside without resistance and she felt the heat burning within her. How was she still alive with such a fire in her flesh? How come she had not long since been reduced to a pile of smouldering ash? She retreated her hand. The finger was glistening. She stuck it in her mouth and sucked it clean with puckered lips. Savouring the taste of her own arousal.

"Please." she whispered, fingertip still brushing against her lips. "Take me."

Jack watched her in silence. Unmoving like a statue. Only his cock betrayed him as it grew between his legs. It was now pointing almost directly at her.

"Take me."

Knees bent Helena spread her legs. There was no shame, no embarrassment or shyness. That was long since past. Only desire remained. Only the all-consuming wish that Jack would see her at her most exposed and vulnerable. Her pussy was bared for him. Pink and sopping wet. The lips were engorged with blood and parted. Petals of a flower.

"I want you." Helena quietly said. "Please."

Jack knelt. Helena's heart was beating hard and triumphantly inside her chest. Her entire body itched and burned, longing for his touch. Jack arranged himself between her legs and lowered himself on top of her. His arms landed on both sides of her head shoulders to support him as he leaned in closer and closer until there was only a few measly centimetres between their faces. She could feel his breath. Helena parted her lips and raised her head to meet him. She caught his mouth and kissed him again. Passionately, ravenously, bursting with desire.

His cock was at her pussy. Helena was aching for him. Every fibre of her body was screaming for him to enter her - she was an animal in heat, only answerable to her most primal instincts. But her mate was cruel and heartless. He slipped the entire length of his cock along her slit, up and down and up again, teasing and torturing her. Sentencing her to agonizing wait.

"Fuck me." Helena whispered. "Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me."

The world was whirling around her. There was nothing else but their sizzling embrace.

"I..."

Her voice shivered. She was stammering, but there was no stopping the words coming from her.

"I want your baby."

Jack thrust forward and Helena raised her hips to meet him. His cockhead brushed against her labia. An electrical kiss of singing nerves. He entered her. Filling her completely. His cock and her cunt melded into one, fitting perfectly together. He was moulded just for her, she was custom-tailored just for him. He bottomed out inside of her. A breathless moment of bliss and anticipation of what was more to come.

Then he fucked her.

How many times can you describe the same act? Really? When you think about it is very basic at its core. Uninspired even, you could say. Cock goes into pussy and then moves back and forth until either one or both of the participants reach their climax or simply tire of the exhaustion. There is not much to describe or elaborate on. Sure you could delve into all the biological functions that accompany coitus, but that's even less interesting. One would think that this fad would have faded thousands of years ago and that humanity would have invented new and more efficient ways of procreating. But no - men and women are still doing it the same way as the cave-dwelling peoples of humanity's infancy and getting sweaty, tired and dirty in the process. Strange that we are still willing to deal with it, isn't it? And yet so much of our lives are dedicated to sex. Either having it or striving to acquire it. People either get it or they don't, and those that don't more often than not want to get it. How many heroic feats, foul deeds and titanic efforts have been poured into this endless quest? How much energy and time has been wasted by men and women alike on this endeavour? How many works of art, how many paintings and poems, songs and palaces have been created - all in the pursuit of sex?

Probably a lot.