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For Tricia……..who inspires me.
A newborn wave my love is.
Brave and bright in the sea of my life.
Rising to foaming crests of emotional ecstasy,
and crashing and splashing
the joy of your presence
on the shores of my thoughts.
My moments with you,
sparkle, like sundiamonds
collected in the troughs of the sea.
My heart soars with the gulls at your words.
Cathy Webb had not left her home in over ten years. Now, in late summer, she stood gazing from the window of The Seabreeze Hotel and considered the things that had brought her here. Time, time to get away, to take a break, to regroup, to take stock and to get out of the apathy in which she had wallowed since the separation. Somewhere quiet. DuBois Beach was certainly that. Just two hundred and seventy feet of rocks and sand. Pretty though, she thought. She had chosen New England and this time for the leaf-changing. A metaphor for the changes she knew she had to make. Cathy smiled at herself. Was she herself not in the late summer/ early fall of her life? She turned from the window and attended to unpacking the suitcase that lay open on the queen-sized bed. Placing things in neat piles in the available drawers, hanging things in the open closet, shoes, just three pairs, in a neat row beneath the garments. From the case, she chose to leave out the white sundress, which she would wear tomorrow over a bathing suit, and the white strap sandals that she had brought with her because they “went with everything”. The white one-piece swimsuit was new, still in the package.
Cathy planned to be up early, and out. To explore the beach alone, before any late tourists arrived. She disrobed and shut the closet door. On the back was a mirror. She smiled at herself. A radiant smile she had had since childhood. That, thought Cathy, I have not lost. Standing naked before the mirror she appraised herself. Thick bodied but not obese, she spied traces of the body that used to be. The body before kids and perhaps some self esteem loss, caused by two, now defunct, marriages. Her breasts were full and large, the areolae almost silver dollar sized. They sat proudly above a rounded belly still fairly tight for a woman nearing forty. The legs were thick and strong with not too much cellulite. Altogether not that awful, Cathy thought, then walked to the shower.
Cathy turned on the shower and set it at a tolerable temperature, stepped in and began to shampoo her shoulder length strawberry-blonde hair. The warm water cascaded over her, caressing her body. Her hands slid the sponge over her naked form soaping her. She passed it over her breasts, brushing the nipples, down her body, over her thighs and between her legs. The body wash and water ran down her inner thighs as she washed her shaven vagina. Cathy was warm and relaxed now. The water massaging her. She pushed the sponge between her sex lips and squeezed it, a gush of soap and water bathing the opening, ennervating her. She released the sponge and it dropped between her feet, her fingers stayed at her sex. Cathy slipped one inside of her as she had done on countless occasions during and since her last marriage. She inhaled at the digital invasion, her excitement growing, pushed another finger into her vaginal hole alongside the first and began to masturbate herself. Pushing them in and out of her, stirring the juices. She pinched a nipple with her other hand teasing it hard, then slid it down her body, finding her, now erect, clitoris. The fingers of her left hand pushed in and out of her, as her right teased and excited the sex bud between the top of her lips. She gasped and tightened as she brought herself to the edge of release. She pulled the pumping fingers free and pushed down hard on her clit. A moan escaped her, and her legs buckled slightly, as her juices flooded from her vagina. They flowed onto her thighs and the cascading water carried them away. She stood under the sweet rain for a short while regaining her breath, then stepped from the shower and dried herself. Leaving the bathroom, she made sure her room door was securely locked, slipped naked between the hotel room bed sheets, set her alarm for six-thirty, and slept.
By six-thirty, the sun was clawing it’s slow way above the horizon. Cathy looked out across the sea from her window and watched as the rising sun scattered a path of diamonds across the ocean surface to the shore below her. She opened the package containing the swimsuit and put it on. Looking in the mirror, she turned and checked it’s fit. Not bad, she thought, fourteen is not that big. The white suit gave her body a little more tightness. The neutral color gave line and shape. The scooped neck was not too low, yet low enough to show a couple of inches of cleavage. Cathy took the sundress from the hanger and slipped it over the suit. It was gently belted and the one-inch buttons went from bodice to the lower hem. She leaned down and undid the bottom two buttons, making the skirt open to her knees. Cathy pulled the white, strappy sandals from the closet floor and buckled them at güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri her ankles, closed the door, and picked up the straw tote bag from the bedside. In it she had packed a book, a large beach towel, her billfold, a pair of sunglasses and spf 45 sunscreen. She turned went out of her hotel room door, made sure it was locked behind her, and headed downstairs for the continental breakfast.
It was seven a:m. Cathy grabbed a warm croissant, some blueberry jelly, and made tea from one of the little teabags provided at the buffet. The morning, being as cool and pretty as it was, Cathy decided to eat her breakfast on the wrap-around porch of the hotel. She took her plate and teacup, walked through the open stained glass doors and deposited herself in one of the white wicker chairs on the porch. She placed the bag beside her chair, looked out to the beach and ocean, and ate her croissant. She felt, for the first time in along time, relaxed.
The sun was well above the horizon when Cathy rose, placed her plate and cup in the trash, pulled the tote bag up onto her shoulder and headed down the steps of the hotel to the small, secluded beach. She followed the boarded walkway down over the rocks and stepped off into the warm sand. The New England breeze played in her hair as she stood deciding on a direction to explore. She reached into the bag, removed the sunglasses and placed them on her face. Cathy turned to her left and headed along the beach. The open-toed sandals allowed the soft, warm sand to weave it’s way in and over her toes. She would stop, now and again, to inspect an interesting shell she spotted at her feet, though, sadly, most were broken. As Cathy strolled along the rocks and sand, and the sun climbed higher in the sky, she became warmer, eventually turning right and walking some two feet or so into the gently lapping waves at the ocean’s edge. The water felt good, cooling her somewhat. The sand beneath her was softer but even and firm, and she did not worry about the damage the sand and surf may do to the cheap sandals she had purchased just for this late summer escape.
Cathy walked on, lost in thoughts of her yesterdays and her tomorrows. Pondering the events that had brought her here, and wondering what life a single, woman approaching forty may have for herself. Would she spend it alone, loveless, directing her attentions to an already grown child and young grandchild? Perhaps, she thought, I am one of those that has loved and lost and all I can do is accept it.
When Cathy looked up from her reverie she found she had wandered quite a way. She was beyond the end of the beach. To her left was a sheer cliff, to her right ocean. Fortunately, the water had not deepened and she had maintained a straight path. She looked behind her and could see the end of DuBois Beach and the rise of the cliff to her right. Ahead, she could see the same cliff, its left edge descending sharply to the earth. Cathy stood and considered her options. She smiled to herself almost cynically, thinking this whole trip is about decision and discovery, angled herself in toward the edge of the cliff and strode towards the shore.
What Cathy found at the waterline both pleased and scared her. She had happened upon about forty feet of pristine beach enclosed by the walls of two cliffs. At the water’s edge, at her feet were shells. Lots of them. Most unbroken by the tramplings of tourists. She gathered a few of the prettiest. Cathy looked around her. She was completely alone. She walked about ten feet up the twenty feet deep beach, reached into her tote bag pulled out the towel and laid it on the unmarked sand. Placing the bag on the ground beside the towel, Cathy removed her sundress, folded it and placed it behind her to use as a pillow, pulled her book from the bag, kicked her sandals off of her feet, applied some sunscreen, sat down on the towel, laid back and began to read.
The late summer sun climbed slowly into the sky warming the ocean, beaches, and the people in and upon them. The morning tide crept slowly up the beach as Cathy read her romance novel. Sometime shortly after nine a:m Cathy fell asleep, the book tumbling from her hand and landing open, face down beside her. The incoming tide slid up the beach towards her.
It was the water that awoke Cathy. She sat up with a start, finding herself sitting in an inch of warm saltwater. Already flustered, she let out a half gasp, half scream as she looked up and saw the man standing above her. He was tall, perhaps six feet. She guessed he was in his early forties. He wore sandals, beige slacks with a brown belt at the waist, and a rust colored polo shirt. Cathy gradually regained her composure.
“Oh!, she exclaimed, “Umm, I must have dozed off.”
“I suppose you must have”, said the man, “I’m Grant Buckner.”
“Cathy Webb”, said Cathy beginning to get up.
She was startled again as the tall man leaned down and reached for the crumpled sun dress. He paused, realizing her nervousness.
“You might want to put this back on”, güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri he said, picking it up.
Cathy, now vertical, looked down and flushed in embarrassment. The white swimsuit was all but transparent when wet. The water that had awakened her with such a start when it lapped against the globes of her ass and in the vee of her thighs had made a picture frame of her shaven crotch. The labial separation clearly visible, dark pink under the now, almost non-existent material. The cleft of her sex was clearly defined. She took the dress and wrapped it around her though she did not button it, she fastened the belt.
“I, I guess I should be going”, she stammered.
Grant smiled at her.
“Look”, he said, “I live atop the cliff, in fact, you are on my private beach, perhaps you’d like to come up and maybe we can find you something less embarrassing to put on under that dress.”
Cathy pondered her position and said, “Well, as long as you assure me you’re not some serial killer.”
Grant chuckled, meeting her half humorous response with his own humor.
“Well”, he said, “I have had some experience with things serial. I am a writer. I bought the beach for it’s seclusion. It helps me in my work. Come, besides it’s not every day I find anything so lovely washed up on my beach.”
Cathy blushed slightly, but began gathering her things. Grant waited and when she was ready, began to lead the way to the back of the beach. There, nestled in the corner of the far cliff was a stairway cut right into the rock.
“After you Cathy”, said Grant, “Up there, if you should slip I am right behind you.”
The wet swimsuit dampened the light fabric of the sun dress, and Grant watched the motion of the outlined globes of Cathy’s ass as she climbed the stairway. She felt his eyes on her as she climbed and smiled to herself. He had, she mused seen more of her already than any man in the last two years. Somehow, that fact seemed less embarrassing now.
When they reached the cliff top, Cathy saw a cottage style house. Pretty and not at all ostentatious. Grant stepped ahead, opened the door and invited her inside. the lits though dimmed were warm and invitin,. the furniture mostly antique but not at all giving the feeling of being in a museum. This was, Cathy thought, a nice home. A fire burned, dried driftwood beneath an ornate mantle. Cathy followed Grant to the space in front of it.
He smiles at her and said, “Through that door in the corner is my room, and in the corner of that is the bathroom and shower. If you look in the closet you may find something to wear. I’ll fix us a drink.”
Cathy nodded, “That would be nice”, she said.
She took her things and entered the room. The fireplace was double sided and burned brightly in the bedroom. Opening a closet in the room, Cathy found an assortment of women’s clothing. This raised a question in her mind, but she selected a skirt and cotton top that looked as thought they would fit well enough and headed to the bathroom.
Cathy pinned up her hair, disrobed and stepped into the shower. When she was done she stepped from the shower and put on the skirt and top, she had, of course, not selected underwear from another woman’s closet. wrapping the swimsuit in the sundress, she put them in her tote bag and re-entered the bedroom. Grant was there.
“It’s a tad early”, he said, “so I chose a medium sherry, I hope that’s alright.”
Cathy reached for the drink. “Lovely, thank you.”
She looked at him. “Um, the clothes?” she asked.
“Aah, yes the clothes”, Grant said, “They were my wife’s, she passed, I just never had the heart.”
“I am so sorry, said Cathy, silently relieved. She sat down on the bed, more comfortable now.
“And how about you?, asked Grant
Cathy told him about her two year old divorce and her evaluation vacation. They talked, and sipped their sherry. Grant looked at her.
“You chose the clothes well”, he said, “Very pretty. Please keep them.”
Cathy blushed slightly and thanked him.
“What do you write?”, She asked.
Grant chuckled, and said, ” Actually, Cathy, I write erotica. I would hazard that you have not read any of my work.”
Cathy laughed. “That would be a good guess”, she said.
Grant took her, now empty glass, and went and refilled it. when he returned he sat on the bed beside her and handed her the drink.. She could feel the warmth of his thigh through the fabric of the skirt.
“To life, love and new directions”, He toasted.
They clinked their glasses smiling at each other, and sipped their drinks.
Cathy had not been touched by a man in two years. Whether it was the sherry, the closeness of him, the warmth of the room and the fire, she felt comfortable there on this man’s bed.
Her heart rate increased as they sat and chatted. An anticipation coursed through her mid-aged body that she had not felt in a long time. She remembered her nakedness beneath the top and skirt she had selected. Grant, she thought, had been nothing güvenilir bahis şirketleri but kind and gracious. He exhibited none of the callousness she had experienced from other would be suitors, on and off, during the two years she had been alone. The nerves of her body tingled at the possibilities of her situation.She handed him her empty glass.
“Thank you”, she said, “you have been so kind.”
Almost unknowingly she kissed his cheek. Grant put the glasses down and turned to her questioning her eyes, then he leaned in and kissed her long and deep and full. Cathy tensed momentarily, then relaxed and let him kiss her. Her mind was racing as the sensations assailed her body. When he teased at her lips with his tongue, she parted them giving him access to a deeper, far more sensuous, kiss. His tongue found hers and she instinctively responded, her breath shortening. She lay back on the bed and he followed her, his tongue conducting a symphony on hers and sending the notes of exhilaration through her body. Grant’s hand moved to her thigh and slid the skirt up it as they kissed. Cathy barely noticed. She was inside her own romance novel. He in his erotic writings. Cathy could feel his hardness urgent against her body. Could feel the juices beginning to lubricate her vagina. She seized his lower lip in his mouth lost to the needs so long inside her.He began unbuttoning the cotton blouse, and she moved to help him. Pulling it apart, Grant caressed Cathy’s full breasts, teasing the nipples to hardness. she gasped under the warm, exciting touch. He lowered his head and kissed her cleavage,eliciting another soft gasp of pleasure. Soft kisses and tugs at her bosom flesh made Cathy arch beneath him. He sucked a warm, hard, brown nipple into his mouth and Cathy’s entire body tensed and released in ecstasy. She could feel ther pussy tingling, wanting, and as Grant kissed and sucked at her nipples, he, almost as if he had read her mind, slid the skirt to her hips, baring her under him. Cathy was now captured in the sensations of their embrace. He could do anything as long as he didn’t stop. She caressed him, lifted his head and kissed him hard pushing her tongue into his mouth. She pushed a hand down between them feeling the heat from herself and grasped for his hard cock . She rubbed it through the fabric of the beige pants, feeling it throb, pulse and grow. She fumbled for the zipper. Grant stood and slipped the polo shirt over his head baring a smooth yet manly chest that sat above strong abs. He undid the beige pants as Cathy watched him,, herself removing the cotton blouse. Grant lowered the pants and underwear simultaneously and stood before Cathy, naked and hard and , to her, beautiful. she sat on the bed, naked herself save for the soft skirt bunched at her waist. She lifted to remove it and at the same time leaned in and kissed the navel of the man standing in front of her. She looked up into his eyes, then reached and pulled him to her mouth and she rained soft sensual kisses on his torso. Lower and lower. She kissed above the rampant penis and reached for it rubbing it against the soft skin of her face. warm clear pre-cum lightly painted her cheeks. Cathy felt the cock pulse at her touch. She kissed it’s length and teased the dark head with her tongue, tasting him. slowly and deliberately she opened her mouth and drew the head between her lips, her tongue lathed him as she took him into the hot, warm caresses of her mouth. She took him as deep as she could, looked up at him again and began to suck. He had barely moved, thought Cathy, a far cry from the rough, insistent men of earlier days. Her hands cupped his firm ass and she made love to his cock with her mouth. She felt it twitch and pulse in her mouth as she devoured it. Then, Grant leaned back and slowly withdrew, his penis still hard as the wet head slipped from between Cathy’s lips. Grant leaned and reached for cathy, puliing her forward on his bed. Her feet dangled from the edge as he slid a pillow beneath her soft ass lifting her. He knelt and kissed her moist, warm pussy lips and Cathy arched in pleasure. Oh yes, Cathy thought, he can do anything, anything but stop. Grant’s tongue teased Cathy’s labia apart and traced the hot cleft downward flicking from side to side. Cathy writhed and squirmed as her pussy reacted to the hot oral carresses. Her ass humped off the pillow to meet Grant’s mouth. His hands rested on her thighs and he probed her vaginal entrance with his tongue sucking her now copious juices over it. Cathy gasped in pleasure as Grant deftly took her to new levels of ecstasy. slowly Grant slid back up the cleft splaying her labias. When his agile tongue reached the top of her now burning sex he flicked his tongue across her clitotis sending more jolts of pleasure through Cathy’s ennervated body. Already erect the bud reacted to his administrations and Grant sucked on it as hard as he could. Cathy screamed with pleasure and felt her pussy spasm, juices flowing from deep within her. Grant slid up her body kissing her with lips coated in her nectar, kissing her nipples again leaving them glistening with juice, kissing her mouth. He raised above her and slowly and gently entered her wet, open cave. Cathy inhaled deeply as she felt the thick, rigid shaft slip into her, and, upon exhaling, when he was buried in her, she uttered words she had never before spoken.
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