The Dirty Sheets

"I know a little," Wilma replied. "I guess neither parents know much or even anything about the other. Is that right?"

"That pretty well sums it up. My birth mom did leave a letter in the file that would be given to me when I reached eighteen. It actually allowed me to view the file if I chose to and to try to contact her too if I wanted." Quickly his face brightened perceptively. "Anyway, the family that adopted me is perfect. My unbiased opinion, of course. They're my parents, you know. She's the outsider. Like you, I have a brother and a sister. I'm one happy camper with how my life's turned out." It was not at all the way his story had started.

"Did you see the file, and did seeing it help at all?"

"Depends on what you mean by help. It gave me some information that doesn't really change anything but makes me, well, wonder, I guess." He paused, looking away from Wilma, then back at her with a look that bored straight into her heart. "That fraternity party. She was with a bunch of guys—no idea who my father was. The file did say she was valedictorian of her high school class and on a full academic scholarship. I guess I got a brain or two from her." He sighed and shook his head.

Wilma watched his face and the changing of his expressions, and she could sense the difficulty he was having trying to deal with something that obviously had disrupted his life in some way, no matter what he said about the ''perfect" family that had adopted him. For some reason that she couldn't quite decipher, Wilma reached out and took hold of Eric's hand as he shared his story. She almost wished, for just a second, that she wasn't topless as she listened.

She realized that he had only hoped to be friendly when he'd come over to talk with her and not go into deep and possibly dark places, and he'd asked if she'd just prefer that he leave. With her holding onto his hand, that didn't seem about to happen.

.

"So, would you like to find your birth mother, knowing what you know?"

He shrugged. "I guess I would. I'm more than happy with my life as it is and I think maybe that's why I'd like to meet her. I know her name, but it's probably not going to be the same now, so that doesn't help too much. I'd just like to meet her so I could thank her for having the courage to go ahead and have me and, you know, let her know that things have turned out okay. I suspect she might like to know that. I don't need a relationship with her. I'm sure that might be a little awkward, particularly for her. I've sent away for three DNA tests so far just on the chance I might find something. Nothing yet. I'm not obsessed about it, though. I'll be happy with whatever happens, even if it's nothing, which is what I'm expecting."

That huge smile came her way again as he lay down on his towel, elbow on the ground, head in his hand, just gazing at her.

There was nothing special about him visually, but somehow, he was becoming a little extra special. She knew it wasn't easy to reveal so much of yourself so quickly. She lay down on her towel and mirrored his posture.

They lay there like that, talking about everything just a little and nothing a whole lot. From this close, he was a little awestruck at how pretty she was. Not totally gung-ho beautiful, just very, very, pretty. And he did take time to stare at her breasts as she seemed to enjoy that. He did notice those nipples, that maybe they were a little larger than before, and it was all he could do to keep from touching them.

Captured by his smile, she asked, "Want to head over to WI2?"

He was glad she'd said it because, by now, there was nothing he wanted any more than that. She'd listened to everything he'd said and hadn't told him to bug off or leave her alone, so he was ready. He eagerly stood up and gathered his towel, helping get hers as well.

He gestured for her to stay put and quickly ran to the refreshment stand and bought two bottles of water, thankful he'd remembered to stuff some money in the pocket of his bathing suit. On a hunch, he picked up one of those two-packs of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. Back quickly, he tucked the bottles under his arm and held out his hand for Wilma, who grabbed hold, and they began walking. He certainly enjoyed looking at her, but he also enjoyed touching her, even if it was only her hand.

He loved to go to WI2 and look, and today, he would be looking, but the looking would be a little more personal and close-up for sure. He stepped out of the way and let her lead, watching her adorable rear end swishing from side to side, very delicious looking, even with the bikini still on. At the gate, she led him through, then stopped and very carefully took the bottom of the bikini off and stowed it in her bag. Eric stepped out of his swim trunks, and she held out her hand, offering to put them in the bag with her things.

Silly thoughts rushed through his head as he pictured his trunks nestled against her bikini bottoms. But the reaction those thoughts were causing made him try to dismiss them from his mind. Maybe later. They discussed where to go and soon found a place, not secluded, of course, but a little away from most of the crowd. He had to admit that, just walking along, he saw a couple of very pretty and very naked ladies. But they were only temporary distractions. And not really even distractions as he was totally focused on the one he was with. She was more than attractive and very naked as well, and he was going to take advantage of that, even if he wasn't quite sure just how that was going to happen.

Wilma had just gotten a quick glimpse of Eric at the gate, and she was anxious to study him a little more carefully now that they were getting their towels situated. She finally decided what the heck and just stood and stared at him. He was putting his towel down very carefully and didn't notice. She was not surprised at what she was seeing as, what had been hiding under his swim trunks, wasn't at all different from the rest of him. She usually hated the word average, but it kind of fit here. She realized that wasn't all bad; in fact, maybe it was kind of good, but she wasn't quite sure why that might be true as of yet.

He finished with the towel and straightened up to see her eyes on him. He slowly closed his own eyes then opened them. "Can I be honest with you?" he said, his voice trembling slightly.

"Please," was her prompt reply.

"If you keep looking at me like that, something's going to happen, and I think you can guess what it might be so, I don't know."

Now, the imp of mischief was on her shoulder, whispering in her ear, and she couldn't resist. She very sensually licked her lips, her eyes half-closed. "Maybe that's what I want to happen. We're here to look and see." She followed that by slowly lowering her eyes again. She could immediately see what he was talking about as his penis quickly got larger and stiffer.

"I'm gonna be the only one on this beach looking like this," he sputtered out and quickly lay down on his towel.

She lay down beside him on her towel. "Sorry," she said softly. "I couldn't resist." She looked at his erection once more to his groan. "Nice to see I can have that effect, though."

She reached across the gap between them and touched him, on his right side just under his ribs. Her touch was electric, but he knew what she was touching.

"You can barely see the scar," she said, running her finger along the very faint line that ran from his side to nearly mid-stomach. Then, a puzzled look crossed her face, and she looked up at him, pressing a finger against the scar.

"I'm a bit of a medical freak," he said, laughing warmly. "First, people my age don't get gallstones, but I did. So, they removed my gallbladder at age twenty. He reached down and took hold of her hand, sliding it along to the very end of the scar. "Second, that's a mild surgical mistake, a small hernia that's formed since they didn't quite get the whole incision closed."

"I've never seen or heard of that," she said, running her fingers over the small bump.

"I said I was a freak," he chuckled, not wanting to let loose of her hand nor have her stop rubbing that scar.

"I thought they did gallbladder surgery laparoscopically these days. That's a big incision."

"Doc said he wanted to play it safe, and I was young and would recover quickly. As long as you don't cough or sneeze for a few days, it works too."

She cringed a little at that thought, even though she'd never had any surgery.

Of course, it wasn't only what she'd done that was having its effect on him. Her touching his scar had generated a warming inside of him that he knew would only grow. And, it was just looking at her, at the trimmed curls on her mons, at her glistening body, at the light sheen of perspiration that was showing on top of the sunscreen, at those nipples that just wouldn't let go of his eyes, just at everything she was. Not at all what he had expected when he headed for Whitworth Island that morning. Not even what he had expected when he approached her about just sitting and talking. But it was happening, and he wasn't about to fight it. So, he decided he needed to talk.

"Why did you start coming out here to the island?" he asked casually.

She looked at him, a half-smile on her face. Could she share the whole story with him? She'd never really shared it with anyone. It was actually a secret that she held onto tightly. That huge smile reappeared on his face, almost as if he knew what she was debating in her head.

"Okay," she said, finally. She knew she'd probably blush, not something she did very often.

"It started in college when rumors spread that there were holes in the wall of the women's shower room in my dorm, that guys could use them to spy on the girls. No one would use the last shower stall on the end, where you could see a small hole high up on the wall. No one but ... but me." This was a little harder than she first thought it might be, but Eric was just listening, no change in expression, so maybe it would get easier.

"It somehow added excitement to my life, when I could go there and take a shower and imagine someone peeking through that hole, watching me. I'd try to picture who it might be, which of the guys I'd seen walking around outside the dorm had been the one pressing his eye to that hole and watching me—naked."

She could feel the heat in her cheeks.

"You probably think I'm some kind of a perverted slut," she said, wondering why she had decided to share this with him.

But she could tell that he wasn't thinking that at all, not one bit. His expression told her one thing, the slight nodding of his head told her even more, that perhaps he was treasuring that fact that she would share this with him, difficult as it obviously was for her.

"That's not a word I'd ever associate with you," he replied, and it was his turn to take hold of her hand.

The sincerity of what he'd said showed clearly on his face, so she decided to continue.

"As I'd walk around the dorm and outside, I'd watch the looks I was getting, checking for that special knowing glance that would tell me he was the one. I knew I was pretty, very pretty, I guess. People told me, so I got plenty of looks."

Eric was smiling at her and nodding. She knew it was his subtle way of complimenting her, and she was beginning to appreciate that more and more.

"Maybe it was all made up, and the hole in the wall went nowhere, and no one was looking. Whether they were looking or not, I was willing to show, so I did.

"During college and after, I had gone to a few nude beaches, difficult as they were to find— legal ones that is, and I had done some skinny dipping since, in college, it was easy to find others who were interested in joining me, guys in particular. That was fine with me since having other women see me naked was only about 10% as much fun as having the guys do it.

"When it had first started, I had also begun wearing revealing clothes to the mall, bending over a lot and letting people look down some of the very low necklines I wore, but I found the island to be more satisfying, at least for me. Despite the rush I got from the danger, I don't need that these days. I was also surprised a little and very content that all that took place here on the island was watching, although I've heard that in WI3, there's a little more than watching— maybe a lot more than watching."

She was sure her cheeks were redder than ever after that, particularly with the huge grin that had spread across Eric's face and the vigorous nodding he was doing.

"I think you're enjoying me spilling my guts way too much," she laughed and got a squeeze of her hand in return. She'd totally forgotten that he was holding her hand all this time.

"But I still like being watched. I struck up a casual acquaintance here with a pair of older couples but have been, well, a little wary of the younger guys."

Raised eyebrows from Eric and her turn to squeeze back on that hand. Maybe she should be wary of this young guy or maybe warier of the way she was beginning to feel about him.

"How about you?" she asked when she was through.

"Eh, I had a girlfriend, and I found out she liked to show what she had. She was coming out here, so I came with her and joined and have just been here ever since. I guess I don't mind showing a little, but I'm more interested in looking." He chuckled. "I'm pretty sure of that."

"Well, that sounds fairly normal. What happened to the girlfriend?"

"I found out she was showing everything just about everywhere and almost all the time, and I suspected maybe more than just showing, and I decided I didn't need that, so I left. I found out later that what I suspected was true. She had more guys on her string than you could count, and the showing was only part of it."

"I'm not quite like that, thank goodness." That had just seemed to come out as a natural response to what he'd said. She was watching Eric's eyes as they spent a good bit of their time now staring at her breasts and, more likely, her nipples, she was sure. And when he wasn't doing that, he was grinning at her with that huge grin she had grown to anticipate and like a whole lot and probably way too much. It just seemed to be what Eric was, summing him up in one simple feature or action. Now his eyes were back to the nipples. She slid her body closer to him. They talked some more. Then closer. More talk and closer still. She was sure, from as close as she was now, that he could see every detail of those nipples, every wrinkle, every nuance of color, and she was sure he could see that they had grown. Maybe they could grow a little more.

She took a deep breath. "Go ahead," she said very softly. His eyes flipped up to hers, a look of disbelief on his face. ,

"Go ahead what?" he questioned, and she could hear the anticipation in his words.

"Don't act so innocent," she giggled. "Touch it."

A pause. "You sure?" She could actually see his nostrils flare with the change in his breathing.

"Touch it and see what happens." She knew what that would be.

Hesitantly his hand reached out, stopped an inch away, then a thumb and forefinger took hold and very gently squeezed. Then another little squeeze. She was amazed at the tingling that was spreading through her body.

"Oh my gosh," he said.

"You better make them match," she suggested, noticing that she was beginning to breathe a little harder as well.

A quick look at her, then his other hand went into action with the same gentle squeezing and the same result. That was the physical result, but for her, the emotional result was even more evident.

As he squeezed, she was looking and could see his erection moving with the beating of his heart. As her mind raced, she couldn't believe that she had lain here beside this guy who she had only met an hour ago and gotten naked, shared her fetishes, learned all about him and now let him touch her nipples. She enjoyed being looked at for sure, but somehow this had gotten to be a little different. As she had told him, she had always been a little wary of the guys here at Whitworth Island. Now it was her, with this unsuspecting and unassuming guy, that was doing some of the things she'd been wary of. She was certainly feeling a little different ... no, a lot different. And she was enjoying that difference more than she would have thought possible just that hour ago.

Much as he was enjoying it, and he undoubtedly was enjoying it, Eric realized that he couldn't lay there all day squeezing those wonderful nipples. Reluctantly he let loose and just enjoyed looking at them, hoping against hope that Wilma didn't mind, which was silly, of course, since she'd invited him to touch them.

"How were they?" she said, catching him totally off guard.

How could he answer a question like that?

His eyes lifted to her face. "You're about to kill me here," he grunted, "and they're fantastic, and you know it, and you're torturing me, just as much as if you were beating me with a stick." He had almost a pleading look on his face.

"Can I torture you some more?" she asked, an innocent sound to her voice.

Eric groaned. "Oh shit yes," he grunted. "I may as well die happy."

She giggled and lifted her left hand till it was right in front of his face, and he had to look at it. She extended the forefinger and middle finger and tucked the other two against the palm. Very slowly and smoothly, she moved that hand, tracking it down across her stomach, then her belly, then over her mons, where she paused for just a second, then curled it between her legs and into a cleft that was now very wet and slippery. She moved it around gently, then slowly raised it and started back up so that it was headed toward Eric, whose eyes were as wide as they'd ever been, she was sure. The hand approached his face. Then the two fingers were against his lips, and he opened his mouth and closed his lips around those fingers and sucked hard to get all of her juices that he possibly could.

He sucked hard for long seconds, then let go with a groan. She smiled. "My turn," she said, and her hand moved again, this time along Eric's body, his stomach, and belly, through the light brown fuzz that surrounded that throbbing cock. The two fingers moved to the head where there was a shining drop of liquid that she slid off with her finger, moved it to her mouth, and sucked it off. Seeing the look on his face and knowing what hers had to be saying, she knew what her voice needed to say.

"Want to go to WI3?"

"Fuck yes," came the instant answer.

WI3 was for couples only. They both knew there was a reason that it was for couples only. At the gate was another card reader with two slots. Wilma slid her card into one slot while Eric hastily fumbled for his in the swim trunks he had recovered from her bag. His card quickly joined hers in the reader. The green light came on, the clicking sound from the gate telling them they were in. Neither had ever been to WI3, so they weren't sure what to expect. Each had similar thoughts. Maybe people lying around on towels and having sex. That was a little scary as they'd come here to see and be seen but weren't quite sure they were ready to see that. Not so they found out.

There was a kind of path beaten down through the soft sand, and on either side were enclosures. There were four poles, and stretched between the poles on three sides was colorful and slightly translucent material with the open side facing away from the path on both sides. One group faced the ocean and the other the dune. As they walked along, they could see bags or shoes or other items lying by the side of the enclosures, a clever way to let you know which ones were occupied. And quite a few of them were, which piqued both of their curiosities no end. They listened carefully, disappointed that they couldn't hear any sounds although both knew that, were there moans or groans, it would have been hugely embarrassing.