The Old Man and the Beach

Chapter Three

"I haven't seen you here before." a soprano female voice from my right side broke into my thoughts. Startled I turned to face a petite Asian (Japanese? Korean? Vietnamese?) girl wearing owl-rim glasses gazing intently up at me (Did I mention that I'm fairly tall-about six foot four inches / 1.93 meters? I have to append the metric units since I'm a chemist-nerd and would really prefer we'd all go to using the Système Internationale.).

"Umm...it's my first time...here." I declared cogently.

"Uh, huh. Having a good time?" she asked.

"Well...uh..." How to answer that? "I'm...uh...a bit...overwhelmed and..."

"Want to fuck me?"

??? !!! I just about fainted while a thousand thoughts raced through my mind in a jumbled mess. Among them was William Congreve's (NOT Shakespeare's) line about "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." Oh, dear...

I stalled for time. "Do you always approach men whom you've never met before this way?"

"Only if they're interesting. So few are. It's been at least three weeks since I met another interesting fellow-or woman-on this beach. But you're interesting. So..."

"Why am I interesting? Because I'm an old geezer-a Santa Claus look-alike?" I was punting-over and over. And desperately hoping that this...young woman... could be distracted. A forlorn hope...

"Well, partially. But mostly because you seem exceptionally intelligent. A nerd. Like me." ???

"Umm...What makes you think that?"

"You've been reading a real book. Know how many people I've seen reading a real book on this beach?"

"Umm..." I was a paragon of eloquence. Of course I can make the excuse that my mental equilibrium at that moment was in a kaleidoscopic whirlpool-half of me desperately wished that the young lady would "poof!" disappear..but the other half equally intensely yearned to do what she proposed. Go figger.

"Try a number between one and two." She was merciless.

"Umm...two?"

"You win the lottery. Me and you. Now do we go to your towel or mine?"

"Uh..."

"I'll take that for mine. Come along." She grasped my dick and began pulling me behind her through the surf. .

I was too shocked to resist-initially. Then "Hey! You're going to pull my penis off!"

"Not unless you resist. By the way, my name's Sally Long-spelled L-O-N-G but pronounced 'lohng' not 'lahng'...means 'dragon'- Nguyen, N-G-U-Y-E-N, though in Vietnam my family name Nguyen would have come first. What's yours?"

What was I supposed to do? If I resisted, Dragon Lady could rupture my dick. But if I complied... So I followed Sally, but looking for an opportunity to escape...or not. I had very mixed emotions.

I scanned about but it seemed no one at all was looking at us and wondering why a diminutive Vietnamese-American girl was towing an elderly white guy by his dick along the beach. It was a strange place-certainly "inclusive" as the girl at the reception portal had said.

"Ah there it is!" exclaimed Dragon Girl as we neared the end of the sandy-rocky beach where it narrowed to nothing as the stone ramparts behind merged with the sea.

"What?" I asked incisively.

"My towel, silly! And you never told me your name. At least we ought to get acquainted before we have sex, don't you think?"

Uh...definitely...

"Edward...Ed...McKean."

"So...do you prefer Edward or Ed?"

"Depends on who's calling me. My students call...called... me Doctor McKean."

"DOCTOR McKean! I'm honored. I thought you talked like a teacher. I'm a teacher, too. Kindergarten and first grade-somewhat below your level I'm sure. But in the same universe."

At least that answered one concern of mine. Sally looked so young...and boyish...that I worried she might not be eighteen yet. No way did I want to get busted for statutory... it could ruin my whole day. But if she were a teacher, she'd have to be at least twenty-one, probably older.

Dragon Lady laughed, "I know. You think I look too young to be a teacher. But I assure you I passed eighteen a long time ago. At least it seems a long time ago. But remember; I'm Asian-we age a lot different than palefaces...slower at first, then faster at the end. Now: how do you want to fuck me? Girl on bottom-missionary or with my legs over my head? Doggy style? Or me on top-cowgirl or reverse cowgirl? Or something more creative?"

I couldn't believe what next came out of my mouth. "What do you prefer?"

She crowed, "Bonus points! A real gentleman! He actually asks what the lady likes-not just throws her on the ground and has his way with her! But, since you ask...me on bottom with my legs over my head...so you can go in real deep...it feels cool if your dick bumps into my cervix...and if you get bored with my pussy you can always shift a few inches and do my ass..."

Of course, she WAS Dragon Lady wasn't she?

Then she smoothed out her very large golden-orange (almost a school bus chrome yellow) towel with a scarlet Asian dragon surmounting three scarlet stripes. Appropriate: a dragon motif overlaying the traditional Vietnamese flag used by the now-extirpated South Vietnam. Then she lay down on it, spread her legs, then deftly arched her back, drawing her legs so far up and back that her knees almost met her shoulders. She must have been a gymnast. Her dark pinkish love cave gaped wide, glistening.

"Okay, DOCTOR McKean! Time for a pelvic exam-a very deep, very thorough, exploration of my cave of wonders. I have a Vietnamese name for her but you probably couldn't pronounce it so I'll spare you. Now send the explorer in-as far as he'll go-and wander in and out and all about. Now! Please..."

I hesitated. My dick was stiff and trembling-but I was so big and heavy and my penis so swollen...and Sally looked so small and fragile. I'd crush her...

She must have read my mind. "Don't worry." she breathed. "I may be small but I'm strong. I've taken guys-and dicks-a lot bigger than you and yours. So dive in-and don't be gentle. But hurry up-or I'll have to jump on you and rape you. And that might be embarrassing. Santa Claus ravished by a little elf girl..."

So I awkwardly knelt between Sally's legs-bad knees you know-leaned forward, grasped her hips, positioned Marcus at the entry to her Cave of Wonders-and pushed in. Sally grunt-gasped. I halted. "Am I hurting you?" I asked with concern.

"Hell, no!" declared Sally. "Don't stop! Get all the way in there, then start pumping! Just do it!"

So I did it, pistoning in and out as my balls slapped against Sally's perineum. And Marcus got...harder...and harder...and I felt my tension rising...and...I couldn't have stopped if I had wanted to. Which I didn't...

I noticed Sally was tugging a nipple with one hand while her other was stroking between her legs-next to Marcus. I figured she was fingering her clit.

Soon I gasped out, "I'm gonna come!"

"Well, come then!"

"In you?"

"I'm on birth control! Just do it!"

I did it. It had been a long time-maybe forever-since I had had a climax like that one. My heart felt like it stopped, my vision went black-and-fireworks, my ears had a buzzing sound, and my whole body went catatonic. And Marcus spasmed and gushed and geysered. I didn't know he had so much in him.

And Sally? I don't' know if she orgasmed or not but she humped and bumped against me as I spewed into her womb, and mewed.....mewed?...yeah-like a cat... and tugged fiercely at her nips, stretching her barely-there breasts out to at least a B cup.

Of course, all good things come to an end-as "they"(whoever "they" are) say, and my climax subsided and I started to pull out of Sally, but somehow she clenched Marcus with her pelvic muscles and whispered hoarsely, "I want you to stay in there as long as possible." and I stayed in there as long as possible. Though, eventually, pelvic muscles or no, Marcus shriveled to where he came slithering out and drooped down past my still swollen scrotum. And my knees were shaking. My joints were going to kill me later that day. It was going to be a four ibuprofen night. But I figured it had been worth it.

Ungainly I scooted away from Sally and crawled over to lie down beside her as she lowered her legs and released her nipples. I wondered if her boobs were going to be as sore as my knees and hips and if she would figure it had been worth it. I hoped so.

We lay there on our backs, side by side, not speaking, for some time. Finally she rolled over onto her side and reached over and began playing with one of my nips. "Cam on." she murmured. "That's 'thank you' in Vietnamese."

"You're welcome" I responded,. "That's 'you're welcome' in American English."

Sally tittered. "You're funny, Professor McKean. Maybe that's why I like you."

"Was I okay? ...I mean for an old geezer..." I asked anxiously.

"Okay? You were great...for a geezer...old or young. Don't sell yourself short. I hope you will do it again...for a young geezer like me. By the way, you never did tell me YOUR favorite sex position... Speak, please."

"Umm..." I was reluctant.

"Don't be shy! Anal...huh?"

"No...no...not that. Well...sixty-nine...I guess. But that wouldn't work very well for you...us. I mean...I'm so long and you're so..."

"Just say it...'short'." She paused. "Yeah...it would be a problem...for us. If you were eating out my pussy I couldn't reach your dick...and vice versa." She paused. "Well, maybe if we did it side by side, so you could bend in the middle...make yourself shorter." She grinned. "No way could I make myself longer."

"Maybe sometime. But right now I'm drained...and I don't mean just my dick. That's one problem with us old farts-we don't have a lot of stamina, get tired easily. I need to go home and take my beauty nap."

"Beauty nap, eh? And just when I thought I had caught myself a winner... You have no idea how hard it was for me to give away my cherry when I was in high school."

"Huh?"

"High school guys are horny but I had three-maybe four-strikes against me."

"Oh? I think you're very attractive..."

"You're very kind. But I was short and a Vietnamese...and wore glasses. Contact lenses just didn't get along with me-I kept getting eye infections. Worse, I had almost no boobs-you have no idea how many guys are fixated on udders. One boy said that diddling me would be like doing it to another boy and he wasn't gay, so... And, worst of all-I was a nerd, in the running for valedictorian. Dumb guys-most guys-can't stand to be around smart girls. They threaten their masculine superiority."

"I like smart girls..."

"That's because you're really really smart-and still smarter than most of them. So...no threat."

"I never thought of it that way. I just like being with someone I can actually converse with in good English-without being accused of using 'big words'."

"You're my kind of guy. Too bad we were born in the wrong generations. Maybe we could build ourselves a time machine and redo things."

"Yeah, maybe. But I don't think I'm THAT smart. Well, I think I gotta go before I fall asleep and start snoring in your lap."

"I wouldn't mind...but before you leave, don't you want to know what I'm reading here on the beach?"

How thoughtless of me. "Yeah, sure...of course..." So eloquent-but I'm a chemist-- not a speech teacher- so you'll have to forgive me if I trip over my own tongue all too frequently.

"Nothing so profound as Machiavelli's Il Principe..." She knew about that? Of course, there were lots of people walking by while I was reading. "..but Jules Verne's Journey to the Center of the Earth and Isaac Asimov's I, Robot. I plan on starting Frank Herbert's Dune next. Right now I'm on sort of a classical science fiction trip."

"Nothing wrong with science fiction."

"Glad you approve, professor. But a lot of English teachers diss on it as 'escapist.'"

"Well, a lot of English teachers think Ethan Frome is the height of profundity. Shows what they don't know. But I better be going-sunscreen and overcast or no, I feel a nasty case of sunburn coming on. When can I see you again?"

"Oh, I come here when the spirit moves me. Just let the same spirit move you."

That wasn't a very satisfying answer but I had the distinct impression I'd get no more, so I leaned over and softly kissed Sally- she seemed startled, then very awkwardly managed to get to my feet and declared, "See you later, alligator!"

After a moment's hesitation she responded, "In a while, crocodile!" It was my turn to grin, and I felt thirty pounds lighter and twenty years younger as I slogged across the slope towards where I'd left my stuff.

But my euphoria evaporated in a flash when I found that Rulon and Marcie-and all their stuff-were gone, vanished. My towel and duffel and recliner and pile of clothes were still there...but it abruptly dawned on me that I had left my car keys and wallet in the pockets of my pants. Oh, curses and imprecations.... I wasn't too worried about the cash in my wallet-it was maybe fifty dollars-but my credit and debit cards and driver's license and... In a near-panic I hefted my pants and fished in the pockets. My keys were there. So was my wallet, but when I opened it I found all but an Andrew Jackson of the cash missing-and a small scrap of paper on which was scribbled, "Be more careful next time. $31 for the warning." I didn't know whether to be mad or glad, grateful or resentful. I decided to be grateful-another thief could have cost me a lot more than thirty-one dollars. And I resolved to be more careful next time.

I tugged on my pants and shirt, not bothering to don underwear or socks, folded up my half-recliner, stuffed my towels and everything loose...well, I couldn't locate Il Principe-I hoped the thief would find it entertaining reading... into my duffel, wrestled on my sandy shoes, and trudged to the exit, only slipping and falling once on trail number two.

As I halted on the edge of the parking lot to let a couple of vehicles pass by, it dawned on me-I hadn't gotten Sally's contact information...not even her phone number and/or e-mail address. Another senior moment-fecklessness to the fourth power. I about-faced and hurried back to the entryway and blurted out to the girl on duty (a different one than before), "I forgot something and need to go back for it!" She held out her hand, "Lemme see your ticket."

Where WAS my green ticket? Not in one of my pockets, not in my duffel.. nowhere that I searched. Maybe I'd dropped it somewhere. The girl was giving me a skeptical-scornful look.

"Umm...senior moment..." I muttered, "I seem to have mislaid it..."

"You'll just have to buy another one then. That'll be eleven dollars."

"But the Senior Citizen discount..."

"The what?"

"The Senior Citizen discount...there on your rate chart..." I gestured.

"Oh. Never sold one of those before. Are you sure you're over sixty-five...?"

"I'm sure!" I was feeling an angry mix of resentment and embarrassment.

"Okay...okay...Don't get your panties in a twist..."

I could have strangled the snotty girl, but instead I forked over the twenty the generous thief had left me, seized my ticket and change, and strode through the gate, ignoring the guffaws from some folks who had waiting in line behind me.

I hurried as quickly as I dared down the trail, then strode across the beach towards where I remembered Sally's spot being, not bothering to undress. This time I DID get stares-most of them hostile-but I didn't care. Well, I tried not to care.

But it was all in vain. When I got to what I thought was the right place, there was no Sally nor any gold-and-scarlet dragon blanket. I looked around frantically in every direction, peering down the beach as far as I could see. But no diminutive dark-haired girl with big glasses was to be spotted anywhere. My heart sank and I cursed my fecklessness (have I used that word before?) again. Then I groaned and slowly slogged back towards the cleft in the rocks whence began trail number two. But about halfway there I noticed what I took to be the terminus of trail number three-maybe Sally had taken that one and we had passed each other unknowingly. What was that poem..."Two ships passing in the night..."? What if I took trail number three-even though it would be steeper? But...duh...if it were really steep and Sally a heck of a lot more nimble than I, and she had a head start... Bad idea. Now if I had just loitered a bit by the parking lot maybe Sally would have emerged from trail number three-all the trails merged at the Entrance / Exit-I might have intercepted her. But I hadn't... I couldn't win for losing.

It was a long, slow, painful trudge back to my car. (I slipped and fell three times this passage of trail number two-skinning my knee and twisting a thumb.) Four ibuprofen tablets weren't going to be equal to my physical pains that night...and nothing was going to help my emotional blue funk. Groan.

Chapter Four.

The next day I returned to Sunbody Beach. The girl at the admissions gate was the same one who'd sold me the first ticket the day before and she said she was glad I had had a good time (I didn't comment) and without being asked sold me a green ticket.

I came better prepared this time. I was wearing two-piece sweats with no underwear nor socks, and beach thongs rather than shoes, and left my wallet and car keys locked in my car's jockey box (I wore a chain about my neck with a car door key-and just in case put another one in a dark gray magnetic key caddy inside my rear bumper). I set up my "station" near where I'd been the day before (no sign of Rulon or Marcie though) and immediately began scouting the beach for a certain Vietnamese-American kindergarten teacher. But no luck, though I walked the entire length of the beach three times. I was going to be in for another ibuprofen night and it wasn't from a strenuous sex position. Discouraged, I settled on my half-recliner and got several chapters into Frank Herbert's Dune before I finally closed the book, took another reconnaissance tour of the beach-again no luck-and hobbled up trail number two. Apparently the spirit was wrong that day.

That evening I searched online White Pages for any S or S L or Shirley or Shirley Long... Nguyen...in central or southern California...without any success. Of course she could have a cell phone only or an unlisted number or... But in any case I didn't find any match for her or anyone close. I even considered hiring a private detective to track her down. Sigh. She'd really hooked me. Pitiful: a cute young girl-ahem, woman-invites an old geezer whom she's never met before in her life to fuck her...in public... and he's immediately ga-ga addicted in less than a half hour . Pitiful cubed. Or maybe senile dementia...

Nevertheless I went back to Sunbody Beach the next day...and the next. Just in case the spirit... The girl on duty declared I must be having a really good time-maybe I should do a commercial for them. Senior citizens were a demographic they hadn't tapped into and might present good sales potential. I demurred.

And I returned three days later, and then twice a week on average after that, varying the times and days of the week. I'd like to say I got over my Sally addiction... Uh, huh...liar...what can I say? But I did become progressively more or less inured, habituated, accustomed, et cetera to nude bodies and displays of public affection and fucking every which what way-or at least a more sophisticated voyeur, paying particular attention only to more "interesting" people such as a one-legged fellow who gamely made his way down the beach one day-or to more egregious or spectacular sex acts. But mostly I got a lot of reading done-and acquired a butt-kicker suntan.