The Beach

Authors' note: Again, I really want to send a special thanks to Pearl_Prynne... Her insight in editing and giving me a better understanding of women has really helped. This story starts slowly but heats up in a big way. Enjoy, and I'd love to get your feedback Just_John1

*****

It started with a ride to the beach. A frequent visitor myself, I travel there on a regular basis. It's about four hours by car, faster by plane, but I can't get over the thought that God never meant man to fly. She'd been begging for months: she'll pay for the gas, she'll find a place to stay, she won't be a bother, all the platonic promises she thought might convince me.

It would be nothing to take her. I'd actually enjoy the company, but that was the problem. She was 25 (fifteen years younger than me), slim, attractive and desirable as hell. Long trim legs, pert breasts with nipples that demanded attention, slim smooth neck, and collarbones that called to be suckled... My attraction to her was so strong that I struggled at times not to reach out and caress her. Several times I had actually caught myself with my hand on her back as she passed through a door and realized I had let it linger a moment too long. The glances I received as she waltzed into the conference room, told me she knew.

She had this habit of completely distracting my day. She would pause at my door while I was trying to concentrate, and I'd smell her before I saw her. I have no idea what the fragrance was, but it was hypnotizing: not quite flowery, not quite fruity, just intensely feminine, the kind of smell you want while burying your head between the breasts of an incredibly sexy woman determined to fuck your lights out. Those thoughts would linger long after she left, the same way her scent remained in my office.

But I digress. She kept begging for a ride to the beach through an entire summer and then winter with no signs of letting up. I couldn't figure out why she needed a ride with me. She had her own car and a decent job; she could easily afford her own trip but seemed determined to go with me. She kept saying she'd find a place to stay but we both knew where she'd end up. I finally relented, and we scheduled a weekend.

As she bounced down her apartment steps dressed in shorts and a halter top, I was reminded again how attractive this nubile twenty-five year old was. Those long legs were at eye level and a shy grin spread across her face as my glance took her in while she walked down the steps. "Hi!" she said, in that small voice of hers. "You ready to go?"

"Yep! Your chariot awaits, my sweet." I was trying to be disgustingly cute to cover my nervousness. The "sweet" part just slipped out. She stopped, kind of tilted her head, and looked at me. "Oh shit, I've blown it already" was the first thought that ran through my mind. She stayed tilted for a second, which felt more like an hour or two, then shook her head, smiled, and walked around the front of my truck.

It was Friday night. We'd decided to make a long weekend of it, taking Monday off to enjoy the beach. Dusk was beginning to settle and the sky was beautiful. Red tinged wisps of clouds as the sun settled, and the horizon was that dark shade of blue, right before it turns to the full blackness of night, that you only see in a summer sky. It was still hot from the day, but a cool evening breeze took away the stifling humidity.

After an hour of driving through idle chit-chat, with my mind was left to wander. I opted for the old country road route and decided do anything I could to get this woman to sleep with me. I rested my arm on the seat back and let my fingers trail down over her shoulder. While just barely touching her skin, I waited for her reaction. And while hoping for something that would either tell me I was treading where I shouldn't or openly invite me to be more aggressive, what do you think I got? Nothing. No reaction at all! My arm was starting to go to sleep.

The skin of her shoulder was soft. So soft. I appreciated the warmth of her body in the increasing chill of the night and traced my finger along the lines of her collarbone. Finally in contact with someone I had watched for so long, it was killing me to wait for a response. I let my fingers travel along her graceful neck; I let my fingers get caught in her soft hair... I was having a reaction, big time. I wanted this woman in the worst way.

Then her head tilted down, giving me more room. I traced a little circular pattern on the wisps of hair that trailed down her neck. I snuck a look and saw that her breathing was becoming labored and her nipples were hard. Was it the chill of the night or had I found a hidden erogenous zone? I began to massage her shoulders, her neck, and the top of her back.

"You've never touched me like this before," she said slowly. And again I was left wondering whether it was a sign of disapproval or acceptance...

"Feels good?"

"Feels great, I wish you could give me a real massage right now."

Definite acceptance. I grew bolder and said, "I have to ask. Why did you have to come down with me?"

"I've been interested in you for a while, but I thought you'd see it as a school-girl type crush. And, I was afraid of what they'd think in the office."

"Do you really care?" I asked.

"No, but I didn't want you worrying about it... I wanted to know if you find me attractive but was afraid the location would taint your response. I've noticed how you touch me, and I thought you were interested but you've been so... I don't know, proper perhaps. Maybe reserved is a better word."

"I didn't want to scare you. You know when you come in my office... I can't help but think of you for hours after you leave."

Her laugh sounded like music, so full of youth, so full of energy. "I always struggle to get your attention. I thought you weren't interested at all. It was so damned hard to get you to take me here."

She lifted the armrest between us and slid over on the seat. My arm slipped down her shoulder to pull her close. Rubbing my hand up and down her arm, I felt my finger pass over the flare of her breast. A subtle turn of her body told me she wanted more. My fingers traveled over her breast, and my fingertip grazed the nipple that was poking out against her shirt.

"Hmmmm, that feels nice.

"Yeah, it does..."

and again that giggle.

Her breast felt so nice in my hand, warm, the nipple pressing against my palm through the fabric. I could feel her slightly arching her back, pressing her breast more firmly in my hand, seemingly offering herself to my caresses. I was as happy as I could be, as content as any man can be while driving 65 with a beautiful woman and her breast in my hand. And then, just to make sure that my feet stay on the ground, what does God send me? A tollbooth. I had to concentrate, take my hand away from nirvana, dig in my wallet to find change for the booth, feed it and drive away."

My hand couldn't decide where to go next. Do I resume my fondling of her breast? That, of course, was my preferred answer. As I slid my wallet back into my pocket my finger grazed her leg. Again, the skin was so soft, her leg so warm, my fingers just kind of settled on her leg. Tracing light circles mid-thigh and then sliding into the warmth where her legs overlapped, my hand rested on her leg possessively. While her skin was so soft, the texture of her muscles was firm: the well-toned feeling that only the young can achieve.

I was trying to be good; I was trying to be respectful, but I couldn't help it. My fingers continued circling on the inside of her thigh. She uncrossed her leg in what my mind could only figure to be a permissive move. My fingers kept traveling upward, then a little back toward her knee, a little farther up her leg with each revolution. I was so close I could feel heat emanating from the joint of her legs, even through the fabric of her shorts.

My hand stopped. My fingers were still tracing soft circles and I was afraid I'd start rubbing her skin raw.

"That feels good too. . ." a soft whisper as her head fell to my shoulder. I could feel her muscles tensing rhythmically with each upward revolution. I was so close but so faraway; two layers of fabric separated me from feeling the softness of her core.

"You're driving me crazy... ya know that?" she said again in that soft seductive voice, dripping with sensuality.

"Do we know what we're doing?" I asked her.

"You mean will I respect you in the morning?" She laughed at me.

"Yeah that's what I mean... I mean, we can still turn back now..." I just had to be sure.

"Well, you can still turn back now, but if you do I'll kill you!" I could see her pearly white smile shine through the darkness.

"Meaning you couldn't turn back now?"

"Meaning... you've got me so horny... I'm going to cum even if I have to do it myself"

"I would hate to make you work at it. That just wouldn't be gentlemanly now would it? To leave a damsel in distress like this..." I lifted my hand.

"You bastard" was her laughing response. "And this is doing nothing to you? This has no effect on you?"

Feigning indifference... "Of course not!" I teased. "It would take much greater efforts to get to me. I'm way too old for that stuff."

I felt her hand close over my hardening member. "Then I assume this is a flashlight, old man?"

"Hey hey! I'm, trying to drive here!" and she did that tilted head thing again. She was looking at me with an expression that should've spoken volumes but I just didn't understand yet. I realized, however, sitting in the darkness, that I too might be giving mixed signals even though my intentions were perfectly clear to me.

Her shorts had grown a little tight when she slid down the seat. I struggled to try to slide my finger into the leg opening. She lifted up a little, and her shorts became loose again. The movement forced the first contact of my finger with her soft outer lips.

"Ohhh..." she moaned quietly, softly in my ear.

My finger slid over her mound, feeling the silkiness of her panties tightly pulled over her pussy. I could feel the moisture already. "Man, she must be wet." I was thinking. "I need to make sure this woman cums... and keeps on cumming over and over again." My finger dug slightly into her leg to lift the elastic leg band of her panties. I could feel some very sparse hair on her swollen lips that were pressed tightly together by the force of her panties.

As my finger traced her slit I felt her slowly separate. I felt moisture flow out under my fingers, felt the moisture lubricate her clit as it continued to grow. It was at least half an inch, large enough to take between my fingers and stroke if I hadn't been cramped while trying to drive or compacted into the small opening I had forged between her leg and panties.

As my finger paused at her opening, just barely penetrating, she sucked in her breath between her teeth. I had never noticed what an erotic sound that can be until that exact moment. I'd always just thought of it as the sound you make when you stub your toe and know it's bleeding but are afraid to look. Her hands reached out as if she was going to grab the dashboard but wavered in the air not quite reaching it.

"Oh, so nice..." she whispered in the dark to no one in particular. The 's' sound of nice drifted off slowly like the last repeating phrase of a song as it fades into nothingness.

Her head fell back and her legs spread wider. She was offering me access to whatever I wanted to feel. My finger rose up to pass over her clit, spreading moisture, lubricating, as another finger rubbed down from side to side. Her legs started to twitch with each pass, and she was breathing intermittently.

"Oh, so nice.... So nice... Please, please.... I'm going to... Ohhhh...." The last 'oh' rose in tone, conveying the urgency she felt with her need to cum.

My finger plunged inside again, my palm continued the rubbing motion from side to side. My finger passed over her spot, just inside, at the top, the fleshy part. A flow of spasms and clenching surrounded my finger. Her hips jerked, and she rolled her back to press my finger deeper into her and to press her mound against my palm. Her breath was coming in spurts, her whole body tense and quivering.

"Unnngf ... oh, cumming! oh god yes...." Her legs braced, and she threw her body forward as the peak of pleasure ripped through her body.

"Don't stop cumming, baby," I whispered in her ear. Barely conscious of the road, I felt her rise up again. Her hips thrust out and her secretions flooded my palm as she crested again.

"Make me cum. Please make me cum. Ohhhh so good... Unnng cumming... ohhh cumming..."

I have not been with many women who talk while they cum. Usually there's a lot of moaning, sometimes some screaming, and occasionally just a grunt or two, but I found this chatter, broken by ragged breaths and completely out of control, to be the most erotic thing I have ever experienced. I knew what was happening to her body but to understand the internal feelings she was having while she came was just... I don't know, awesome is the only word I can think of.

"Pressure. Oh, the pressure... My clit... Rub my clit harder. Ohhh... so good. I can feel... I can feel my nipples... ohhh, yes, right there, against my top. Oh god, yes. I'm going to... I'm cumming. Oooooh, again. Oh! Make me cum. I want... I want to, oh, feel your fingers. Ohhh, fuck me with your fingers. Ah! Cumming..."

And then she was quiet. There was just heavy breathing in my ear as she squirmed her hips to get away from my rubbing palm. I pulled my finger back to trace wet circles on the inside of her thigh once again. I squeezed her thigh gently, kneading the toned muscles under her skin as she came down, her head on my shoulder, breathing ragged in my ear.

"That was... wonderful!" She said as she leaned in and kissed my neck. It wasn't a suck-the-blood-out-of-your-neck-through-the-skin type of kiss, just a gentle nuzzling, a little lick of the tongue kiss. It brought so much emotion to the surface I realized that I was entirely under her control. I realized that, if not love, I was deeply in lust with this woman. I was also, mind you, hard as a rock.

I felt her hand slide over my thigh. "Your turn next, but you'll have to wait until we get there." Whatever she wanted. I was totally captivated by this woman.

The darkness gave way to the neon lights of the beach strip. I looked at her excited face and wondered why I had put this off for so long. Then the lights faded again as we drove off the beaten path to my out-of-the-way house. It's tucked away, off the main drag, in a quiet neighborhood, boat tied to the dock in the backyard lagoon. We spent the next hour getting the power turned back on, the water, unpacking the truck, putting sheets put on the bed.

Finally finished, I settled on the couch with a drink in my hand and looked over to see her curled up on a chair. Still dressed in her shorts and halter, her nipples still slightly erect and her hair falling over her eyes, she looked so cute, but I noticed a fire in her eyes.

"I think it's your turn now," she said. A devilish expression colored her face as she continued. "What do you want me to do? I'm all yours to play with."

I knew this was going to be a great weekend, but her offer was a little too much. This younger generation was so forward; I felt strangely uncomfortable. I was used to the man being the aggressor. For her to sit here and tell me it was now my turn for pleasure, and that anything I wanted to do was... well, I guess I'm just not used to it. Despite all the times I'd fantasized about exactly this, now my mind was blank, completely devoid. At least I remembered how to breathe.

"Uh uh uh.... I don't know."

and she laughed.

"You don't know what you want to do with me?" A dramatized frown. "You don't want to rip my clothes off, lay me down, and make wild, passionate love to me?"

"Uh uh well, that sounds great... Um, I guess" was my brilliant response.

She slid over to the couch and sat quietly next to me. "You want tenderness," she said, not quite a question but more a statement of how well she could read me already. She looked down and placed her head on my chest. I lay back on the couch.

"I can hear your heartbeat," she said as her arms wrapped around me and squeezed. I started stroking her hair, soft, golden, fine-textured, like everything else on her, just beautiful.

"You're not allowed to touch. You have to keep your hands to your side; this is for you." I felt her hands run up over my chest and heard a sound, almost a purring, in her throat. She pulled my shirt up and followed her hands with kisses. For a twenty-five-year-old she sure knew what she was doing. I've never thought of my chest and nipples as an erogenous zone. Perhaps it was the pleasure she seemed to derive from it, but it really felt good to me. I watched her hands stroking my sides while she kissed my chest. Then she trailed her tongue down my stomach, tickling fingertips leading the way.

"Lay back" she said and I complied like the transfixed male that I was. As she pulled my shirt over my head her breasts were right in my face. Her hard nipples were barely visible when she leaned forward and the fabric fell away from her chest. I reached up and ran my fingers gently over one of them, watching it come to life. Her eyes closed and she pressed her breast down into my hand.

"Not that it doesn't feel really good, but you're not allowed to touch," she reprimanded again. "This is for you."

I suddenly felt awkward, like I had too many arms and couldn't find a place to put them. I couldn't fold them over my chest, couldn't put them behind my head, and I felt too vulnerable with them lying at my sides. She seemed to understand my quandary. She took them in her hands, tucked them under my back and said, "Now don't move."

I was completely at her mercy. I wanted to comply and enjoy whatever she had in store, but at the same time, I wanted to explore her body, to experience what I had in the truck with her again. Her hands returned to rubbing my chest, working the muscles there and gently running down my stomach. I could feel a finger linger at the top of my belt. It dipped slightly inside. I wanted her to reach in and hold me so badly. I wanted to feel the tingles as she stroked me, but there was no way to expedite things. I had to lie there and let her work at her own pace.

As her fingers neared my belt my stomach would involuntarily pull in, trying to create space for her hands. I was very hard with the anticipation. She had created a scenario where my total being was concentrated on pleasure. I wanted to experience every sensation to the fullest so I could pay her back later.

Finally her hands undid my belt. As my zipper slowly moved downwards I could feel the coolness of the night air. Sparks of pleasure and anticipation rushed through my body. Her hands slid up and began pulling both pants and jockeys down.

I thought I felt vulnerable before! Now I was naked, lying on my hands, not allowed to touch her. I wanted to bring her the same loss of control that I felt, but she was totally dressed. Although she had cum, I still hadn't seen her any other way than fully clothed.

"Hmmmmm..." she said as her fingers barely touched my hardness. The tingles were enough to raise bumps on the skin all over my body. I was struggling to keep my hips still. I wanted to push myself into her hands. Her fingers traced over my cock and down to my balls, as they pulled tightly up next to my body.