13 comments/  46700 views/  5 favorites

Sand

By: Joe Wordsworth



Antonio never thought much about his wife's trips to the beach, every summer. When he was younger and she was in college, he'd even taken to going with her. Maria was a joy to be around, full of life and energy, even though she was nearly fifteen years his junior--his colleagues in the Economics department thought it a bit inappropriate, but everyone was in love with the spunky young Maria.

Dark hair, deep olive tones in her smooth skin, light eyes, and full lips to go with her very put together frame. The boys ever did drop their jaws at Maria, even though her attire was always more "long skirts and blouses" rather than the "hip-huggers and tight shirts" of the day.

She fell in love with him for his broad mind and aggressive nature, and he fell in love with her for her kindness and sexiness. It was a different relationship for both of them, but with her graduation and his retirement to part-time teaching while he wrote his book, their marriage was acceptable to her very conservative parents despite his being nearly forty at the time.

But though Maria enjoyed the classrooms where she taught (high school English), and was adventurous and full of spirit--their love life and home life was wrought with all the problems of a couple that had little in common. So, Maria would take to the beaches a few hours from their home in Georgia, and for a long time Antonio would join her.

While bronze and in great shape, Antonio never liked laying about half-naked and wouldn't have bothered, but Maria grew up near beaches and he was desperate those first few years to find something they could both enjoy. His stoic and methodical nature was in contrast to the freedoms of wind and air and sea and people--but she appreciated his trying.

It was in those moments, at the beach, that he remembered that his young wife was a beautiful woman. Though bookish any other day, Maria wore very revealing bathing suits--and moreso every year. So much so that Antonio had become protective of his bride--which disturbed him. He did not like the idea of containing or limiting her. He withheld nothing from her; she was his joy even if he had none himself.

Once, she'd gone so far--and this was years ago, perhaps the second or third trip to the beaches--as to remove her top and lay under the sun. Laying forward on the towels, her legs ran for miles... young men gawked shyly and older men gawked openly (as old men do) at her long and firm legs, those lightly muscled thighs, and her delicately covered ass only accidentally hidden beneath scraps of nylon tied at the hips.

Maria was a sight, voluptuous and firm, a tight waist accented by her most dazzling feature--large, soft breasts that spilled out under her, licking the towel and exciting the boys. Antonio had enjoyed them many times, but their love-life was more dutiful than exuberant and he always did feel as though she wasn't enjoying him enough. It led to a decline in their bedroom activities, except for those nights at the beach house. Only there did it seem she loved him physically as much as she loved him emotionally--and Antonio, with his powerful mind and practical sense, knew it was her exhibitionism that excited her more than her husband.

As the years moved along, and his writing became more full-time, he'd drifted from his wife. His family had always placed a high value on marriage, hers as well, and neither of them considered divorce--or ever would. They were partners, if not young romantics, and the business of their lives (and young son) was more important than the realization of some romance novel. 

Theirs was a marriage like so many others. Divided by many things, but dedicated nonetheless.

Antonio aged well, and by the time he was nearly fifty, his grey-hair was more prominent than the black, his physique took on that lean and creased look that older men get when youthful muscle gives way to the years. He was fit, and a fine Italian gentleman, tall and broad shouldered--but nobody would mistake him for a young man now, as sometimes happened with Italian gentlemen.

Maria only grew more beautiful, at least in his eyes. She lost the firm muscle-tone of her twenties for a womanly softness of an active lady in her thirties. Where she'd once had sharp accents in her legs and tummy, she had a flat and smooth look to her--more in common with a model than a volley-ball player. She lamented not being as fit as she once was, but Antonio ignored her and encouraged her to do the same... she was a vision, and her insistence that she was part her prime always disappointed him. 

So, as the years went by, and she took her summers to the beach, he thought nothing of it. It was a place of happiness for her, she could share the sun and surf with friends and let men gawk at her, and she could regain her confidence--which dwindled in the winter months. It was a cycle, and Antonio respected cycles.

So, when he finished his third book early in the year--and wanted to celebrate by going with her to the beach this time... he was surprised and unprepared for her response.

"No."

Her brow furrowed over their morning coffee, and she was short and adamant in her answer. 

"Why not?"

He was unaccustomed to asking twice for anything, and desired reasons above all things. His curiosity would not surprise her. Not in the least.

"You don't like to go, and I won't have a bad vacation, Antonio--not this year. I need to get away for a bit, you know that." she was sincere and her eyes pleaded with him to understand.

But Antonio knew little of pleading, and respected it not at all... but he could deny her nothing, his wife. She was always his weakness and moments like this, moments that made him feel generous, were often successful ways of getting what she wanted.

"Hmmm.", he thought, "Yes. Yes, I see. You may go by yourself; I had only wanted to celebrate the book. But we can do as much when you return." Often, people thought Antonio to be rigid and robotic, his manner of speech always to the point and formed thoughtfully--Maria had loved that about him, because she knew it was only his way when others believed it intentional.

"Thank you, darling." she replied. Looking into her coffee, she felt guilty.

. . .. ... .....

Antonio could not say why he went along after her. Perhaps to surprise her, but that was not really his habit. Perhaps because he changed his mind, but he rarely ever did that either. Some would say he did it because he suspected, but even he and his ego would not admit to that--as he didn't suspect anything. He would move the wheels in his accomplished brain around over and over, trying to understand why he went... but the years never gave him any answers and the wheels did not produce certainty.

But, regardless, as he looked through the window of the beach house, and saw his wife in the arms of another man, he did what only Antonio Sparazza would have done in that situation.

He sat beneath the window, and thought about what he was seeing.

He was not a jealous man. Truly few men could compare to him. He was accomplished, handsome, intelligent, and interesting. So was it jealousy over this flawed creature with his wife? He'd seen the man for only a moment, and he was not impressed.

The long blonde hair was fairly scraggly, unkempt. He looked skinny and somewhat frail. It was surely not his... 

Antonio crept up and glanced through the window. He stood for a few minutes, watching his wife writhe beneath this boy until she screamed and gushed and tensed--her olive skin blushing deep crimson the whole time. She had never truly acted that way with Antonio--but when the boy stood up to spend himself on his wife--Antonio sat back down.

No... The boy was not large, either. His calculating mind began eliminating the reasons for this. Though strange in his ways, Antonio was not purely egotistic, just methodical.

The boy was not physically better than him. From the looks of him and his clothes and how he'd spoken, it was unlikely he was mentally superior. He doubted Maria loved this boy, as he was sure she loved only him. And, ultimately, he could think of no reason other than himself that this could happen.

He began considering himself. Did he not love enough? Warm enough? Had he not made love to her often enough or well enough? Was he not as exciting as he once was?

Far from an exercise in self-pity, he turned his brain on himself and judged each part of him thoroughly. Ultimately, weighed against Maria and her kindness and love for their children and her support of his career and their unique appreciation for each other... he realized that there was something just missing.

Some variable that was not so easy to assume and evaluate. And the only one who would know was her.

. . .. ... .....

He waited patiently while the boy left. Had he stuck around and laid with Maria all night, Antonio would be more heartbroken. He couldn't understand why her infidelity only mildly angered him, and why her emotional replacement of him would have deeply saddened him. Antonio knew little of emotion. That was Maria's job. She was his joy and fear, even if he had none himself.

When he heard her shower turn on and the bathroom light burn the night back through its tiny window, he casually made his way into the beach house. Little more than a cabana, with a few amenities, it was small and compact. The smell of their sex was in the room, her clothes looked... torn? Mangled? Had she not seemed to enjoy herself so much, he'd have thought there to be a struggle and fight here?

Antonio made his way to the little couch in the corner and waited while the steam in the shower rolled across the ceiling. He wondered if she was washing herself everywhere, even there... was she ashamed of this? Was she cleaning herself to hide this encounter from others later?

Being Antonio meant living with questions all the time--running through his head like a runaway mob... never ceasing. It made it hard to be simple, and very easy to overcomplicate things.

When the water turned off, his heart raced a bit. This might be a fight. They hadn't truly fought... well, ever. There were tiffs and disagreements, but he won those usually. Or she placated him. Same end, really.

So, when she stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in towels. Her skin still blushed and her face so youthful with her long black hair pulled back, her legs both long and visible nearly to her sex and her breasts wrapped tightly and flowing nearly over the cloth... she was still beautiful. Moreso now? Because of the shower or circumstance? He saw her differently now, for sure, but why?

She glanced at him, looking surprised for only a fraction of a second, and then her demeanor became casual--in that frank way of speaking he was accustomed to. 

"Hello, Antonio."

"Maria."

"May I get dressed now, before we talk?"

For the first time in his life, he started talking without thinking... something in him was taking over while his heart pounded and feelings of anger and pain and sadness made their way through the concrete surface.

"No, no, I don't think there's much to say. This... this is over now." His expression, usually blank and unmoving was furrowed and beginning to clench.

She tried for moments to be as unflagging as he usually was, but could not. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she could do little more than look away and begin sobbing into a hand towel. He watched her in pain. And it felt satisfying. It felt vindicating. 

"Before I go, I want to know why." he felt something welling up inside of him.

Between sobs and moments of hesitation, she told him.

"You treat me... like... a very bad friend. You never... love me.", she managed.

He felt anger spill forward out of him before he could stop it.

"Never... loved you? I gave you everything! What haven't I given you? What has this boy given you that you believe I have withheld?" he began yelling and she began shaking.

"He was a man to me... he... used me as a man... as a man would use a woman." she felt her heart pour out secrets as she burned under his stern gaze.

"Use you? We've made love many times! Why isn't that enough, dammit? Why isn't that enough?" he was now losing control, as repressed emotions ran away with his sensibility. He wanted only to be right now, only to prove himself right, and prove that she was wrong and horrible and a whore.

"You come to me rarely. You..." her hesitancy was ending and her tears were replaced by the spiritedness that made him love her and hate her all the more.

"...you come to me like a minister to his duties. You spend yourself in me and consider that love!" she yelled into his chest as she broke down again.

He was taken aback and knew he should hold her, should let her scream and yell into him and take that pain away and bury it with whatever he was feeling himself. But, something dark in him was stirred by all of this. By the wrongness of it all.

"You would have me use you like a whore? Like this boy? You would have me take you and rape you like some common slut, and treat you not as my wife but as some thing... some...", the words were truly not in his vocabulary and it frustrated him all the more knowing he could not articulate something important to her--proving to himself that there were things about Maria he did not know as he would not have such problems had he ever understood.

He was panting, angry at himself and betrayed and confused. She was crying softly, in shame and anger. 

And Antonio, who had never laid a hand on his wife before, not in ten years of marriage... put a hand to her chest, above her breasts--flushed and rising and falling in tune with her sobs--and shoved her out of his way, knocking her to the floor and bowling a nightstand over in the process. Her towel fell loose on her as she lay on the floor and tried to recover from shock and astonishment at what had happened. Her breasts, round and heavy, spilled out of the white terrycloth and her modesty was forgotten.

Her long legs were parted and he could see her pussy glisten and her look of confusion only made her excite him. But then the lamp tottered off the broken table and that moment was lost.

The crack of the lamp breaking and sudden blackness of the beach house left him troubled and frustrated until he saw the dull glow of the beach in the moonlight. He pushed her aside as she was crawling back to stand before him and made his way outside--leaving his wife and her desires behind him.

The breeze felt and smelled intoxicating. He felt powerful. He felt himself return to normal; whatever beast was rising in him was subsiding. His methodical nature was taking over again. He would leave here. He would file papers. He would get the children. He would...

*CRACK*

The half-broken lamp knocked him to the ground, and he felt blood trickle down his neck while he knelt in the sand--trying to reason what was going on.

"You bastard! You..." she was crying again and scared and angry. Maria's affairs these last few years had been short-lived and sudden. She hadn't really ever planned on them, but more and more she had come to like the attentions of the other men and when talking led to drinks the next year and drinks led to walks along the beach the next and walks led to kisses under moonlight and moonlight kissed led to feeling a strange man slide fingers down her bikini and between her lips and over her clit and sinking one and two and one and none into her...

...she had become addicted to feeling sexy. To feeling reckless and passionate. Antonio was a good lover. He was capable and frequent enough. But this wasn't love. Something inside of her craved more than love--it wanted to be taken. Last year was the first time she let those fingers happen.

His name was Dustin, and he couldn't have been more than twenty, but he fucked her with his long fingers and when she had cum, and dug her nails into his neck from the force of it and gasped and cried for how unexpected and deeply satisfying it was... she didn't know how to feel. She held onto him, his hands pawing her tits, confused at what this had meant. 

So engrossed in her perplexity she had been, and so wrapped up in the orgasm she had forced upon her, that when he pulled his cock out--long, a bit thin, but hard and angrily purple and needful--she let him push her forwards against the tree they'd been making out under.

She wrapped her arms about the tree, and felt the bark scrape against her as he rubbed his young prick across her ass. He moaned things about how sexy she was, how full and ripe her ass was, he groaned about doing things to her--many of which she didn't know about or what they meant--and she felt like a whore. An absolute fuck-toy. She wasn't a person anymore, just a thing that this young man was about to slake his thirst on.

He grabbed her hair in one hand and leaned over her, making her arch her back and roughly whispering into her ear...

"Take this all the way, and all I wanna hear is 'thank you' when you do. Have you got that?"

She didn't know how to respond, every nerve in her body was enflamed and she could only think about how badly she needed something... anything... to get her off again. She couldn't say it, she knew that.

"I... I-I... can't...don't..." her words and pleas were met with a jerk on her hair and her nipples sliding roughly against the tree. It hurt. She yelled out into the empty beach as her sensitive breasts were pushed against the bark again.

"The fuck is wrong with you. You want this fucking cock in you so bad, I can feel how hot you're getting from here. All you sluts are the same, you just need someone to...", he jerked her hair back further and now her throat was exposed to his over hand closing tightly over it, "...encourage you. Now, I'm going to fuck this pussy, and I don't fucking care if you like it or not, and you're going to say 'thank you' real sweet to me when I do or you ain't gonna like what happens."

And before she could respond, and to her shame, she felt him sliding into her--not quickly, but steadily and without regard for anything. Her mouth was open and she was trying to stay silent, her eyes clenched shut and she could feel all of him enter her. And as she was working up the mind to respond how his man wanted, he bumped against her cervix and she cried out in pain.

"Ooowww, not--", she cried and he jerked his cock out of her quickly, leaving her empty and confusing and dripping wet.

"Stupid bitch... fuck. Fine. Fuckit, you don't want to play along, I'll just get this over with my way and you can cry about it later." he said flatly. He ran his cock in and out of her tight pussy, very shallow, and she thought he was going to fuck her again--finally. But then she felt him leave her, and his hand tighten around her hair, and the tip of his long cock press against her other place.

"No... not..." she mumbled as his hand held her body taught through her hair and his other hand covered her mouth, "Mmmmnnnnn....MMMNN!!!" Her protests were lost into his palm as he roughly and uncaringly drove his cock into her ass, to the root.

The pain was excruciating. And exciting. And as he fucked her ass in the open air and muffled her screams and then cries and then moans, she began bracing herself better to let him fuck her more deeply. She stopped thinking and caring and wondering about it all and just let herself be used and fucked long and hard and aggressively by this man. This stranger. 

When he grunted and came inside of her, and buried his cock deeply while he caught his breath--she closed her eyes and cried some. She wept for whatever innocent part of her she let go, and she wept for how much she enjoyed it and wanted more. Mostly she wept because there was that emptiness in her again as he pulled out, she couldn't hear him as he mumbled thank you and said things about seeing her around.


Sand



She was left there in the dark, half-naked against a tree, changed. It wasn't a rape, but it wasn't love. It was something in between.

And the next summer had been the surfer, the boy with the blonde hair, and as he enthusiastically fucked her in the beach house she realized it wasn't another man she wanted--or even that first man--and while the boy was taking his pleasure out on her and her body responded to it, she knew it was this way she needed. She needed to be used. 

So when Antonio caught her, her relief was that this phase might be over--that he would keep her sensible again. That being caught would take away the power of the need.

And when he told her it was over--her world broke. She needed him and she needed this... whatever this was. And she knew it was wrong and she knew she couldn't have both. And he exposed her shame and desires and he rebuffed her like a tramp.

And when he shoved her to the ground, she let her anger and frustration take her and all she wanted to do was hurt him. To make that granite face twist in anguish or sadness. Anything.

And when the lamp found its way into her hand and her hand found its way into an arc and the lamp exploded over Antonio's head... she felt out of control. And backed away slowly as her husband knelt in the sand, blood running black under the moonlight down his white shirt.

. . .. ... .....

Antonio staggered to his feet to see Maria backing away from him. She looked confused and afraid, one hand holding onto the towel around her chest and barely covering the rest of her, the other at her mouth in surprise.

He saw only a red-tinted world as his fury was unleashed. 

He strode up to her; Maria's face a combination of disbelief and uncertainty as she started moving away from him more quickly. He flared his hand back, as though reaching widely for his wallet and let his come crashing back forward, the force of the slap so strong that she didn't exactly crumple beneath it so much as lose her footing entirely.

She rolled into the sand as Antonio came down upon her.

. . .. ... .....

The adrenaline rushed in her head as she hit the ground. Her legs kicked and arms flailed and she felt herself strike him weakly and glancingly over and over as he fell on top of her and twisted a hand deep into her hair.

"Get off of me, you--!", she started to scream, but that hand came down again--his face unmoving--and lit the left side of her face on fire.

"You bas-!!" she started again, as tears came, and the hand punished her just as quickly.

"Ssss-sto--stop, ple--!", again her head rocked to the side as he slapped her, this time knocking the breath out of her. She felt warm and angered and scared as he looked uncaringly into her eyes.

They stared at each other for a moment. And two. And another. And Maria, unflinchingly, her heart beating and fear punishing her as much as his hand, moved a soft finger to her towel and pulled it aside. She lay there under him, naked and wanting. Her chest heaving, her breathing ragged, her face red, and unspeakingly she begged for him.

Antonio looked down at her. She wondered if he could read her mind, if she could make him want her. He looked her up and down, inexpressively, and she felt unsure and insecure before him. She moved to cover herself a bit, and he moved his hand to her face.

He caressed the red cheek and she felt like crying, she felt loved. She felt silly and wrong and before she could say "I love you", he ran his hand down her jaw line, and over her neck, and pushed her further down into the sand.

Her eyes went open, wide and terrified. She could still breathe, but she could do little else! His expression changed not a bit as he held her down with his one hand, his other moving to his belt and unfastening it. He stripped it off of him in one motion and wrapped it roughly around her neck.

Maria began kicking back at him, flailing at him in the sand and in the breeze, gasping on occasion and pushing at him. Antonio tightened the belt, grabbed her by the hair and jerked her cleanly and quickly forward and over again until she lay there in the sand--face down and half-choked by the leather collar he had put on her.

He tugged roughly back on it and she arched up out of the beach--sand clinging to her hair and down her chest, her sweat and the towel half-sticking to her. She bucked and struggled as he grabbed first one wrist and then another, pulled them behind her so far she felt as though he'd break her. The end of the belt came around one wrist and then the other and her nipples barely touched the sand beneath her as she felt craned back.

She felt hands roughly work over her shoulders, and down her front--gripping and kneading her breasts as she felt Antonio's cock harden through his slacks against her thigh. Through the roughness and uncertainty, she hadn't thought of being aroused, but the moment she felt him lengthen against her and the sand scratch her tits underneath his hands, her pussy quivered and gushed in a small orgasm. 

She mewled and moaned lightly, still breathing shallowly. Antonio stood up and pulled his clothes off slowly--leaving her writhing against the beach as she rolled her hips and thighs together, searching for some kind of relief. He put his foot against the back of her neck as he undid his shirt and slid it off. He pulled his pants off, and left them in a pile against the back of her head--like she was little more than a pile of dirty clothes herself.

His cock was thick and hard, dark and desirous. He knelt down behind her and she quieted down in anticipation. His hand when between her leg and she felt him move his fingers against her pussy. One by one, brushing her clit and driving her crazy.

Then, he pushed a long finger into her. Then another. Fucking them back and forth, he pushed and pulled and occasionally pinched her clit, sending pain and cries through her body and into the sand. He roughly plunged his fingers, two and then three into her--stretching her open and giving her no change to enjoy or dislike what was happening. It felt wonderful and then hurt and then toe-curlingly good and then flinchingly sharp.

He worked her in and out and then grabbed both of her hips and jerked her ass into the air quickly, her breasts scraping against the sand as she slid backwards, her face against the sand and pressed harshly against the beach. Without word or warning, Antonio positioned himself against her pussy, sweet and wet, eager and abused.

He pushed into her, and she felt him throb over and over, his thick cock barely inside of her and her own orgasm shaking her entire body before it even began. He waited. He waited. She began trying to push back against him, she started mewling and between gasps for air begging in a whisper.

"Please, Antonio." she murmured, against the wind--too silent for anyone to hear but her.

He moved against her and slowly sank his cock deep into her. She twitched and grunted as more of him opened her pussy--it felt like heaven, it felt better than anything had ever felt. And when he was inside of her entirely. When he'd finally filled her need, physically and emotionally, and she thought this was it, he brought that deft hand down against her right asscheek.

The crack of it was more startling then the feel of it--her eyes flew wide open from being closed tightly. She let out a soft exhale.

The again, in the same place, his hand came down and the crack was only slightly more shocking than the pain. His cock throbbed inside of her and she felt so close to cumming she thought she might die.

And again. And again. Over and over. For what seemed like hours and days, he beat her backside red and raw, his cock staying hard and still and throbbing--swelling and resting, swelling thick and large in her and resting. Over and over. She could cum from that alone, she knew it--but her ass was burning and hot, the pain was too much. 

Her eyes were full of tears and her cries were muffled by the belt. She felt her tits were on fire as well, having been face down in the sand and roughly fucked and abused this was.

Finally, he stopped--her ass burning and tears wetting the beach underneath her face. Her sniffles suddenly stopped as Antonio began moving inside of her. He slid out and slammed into her, and out and slammed again. He fucked her roughly and unforgivingly. He was sliding against her G-Spot in that way only he could ever do; her body became wracked with orgasm after orgasm.

Lights and sensations filled her and her mewling and crying turned quickly into moans and howls of pleasure. His cock stroked in and out of her, fiercely, and she knew he could feel her spasming--after what seemed like forever, his fingers gripped her hips--pinching into her so strongly that she screamed into the sand in protest and moaning her pleasure the whole time.

She felt him jerk inside of her over and over. She felt warm and filled, she felt him hold himself there. He spent himself inside of her and, her body shook again in the last orgasm of the night--her fingers numb and twitching.

The strap loosened and she found she could breathe again. She gasped and deeply tried to catch her breath--her body limp and tired. She lay in the sand, with her body against the cold beach, and when she could manage, she turned over smiling. She lay on her back and tried to focus her eyes. She saw him walking away.

He carried his shoes. And wore his pants and white shirt. He got into the car and left her there... soiled and naked, raw and used. The sand in her hair fell down over her body, and she watched him go. And she cried. 

He filed papers in the morning. And kept the kids. And tried to forget his beautiful wife, and the things she made him find in himself.



Sand



It was the week I look forward to every summer. For only one week, I got a break from working day and night at the cultural center, dancing for tourists who liked to think of themselves as intelligent and worldly. They had no idea I was of Filipino and Japanese heritage, they just saw the slanted eyes, black hair and honey-brown skin (which no one can truly live in Hawaii without developing) and assumed I was expressing my native Hawaiian roots. Regardless, it paid well, and I enjoyed the anonymity of performing for a new crowd every night. 

And there was this one week off. I always spent it far south along the coast away from the main beach, in a secluded alcove I claimed as my own. No one ever ventured that far, so I could be assured my solitude and could simply lay there in the sand, my bikini draped on a rock, with maybe some pineapple or coconut brought along to eat. I could sun my body, breasts pointed to the sky, my long hair pulled back from my face and my trimmed pubic hair shiny in the light. It was an amazing swimming area as well, it felt so much better, so much more natural, to swim nude.

This day I had just swam out as far as I could go, towards the horizon and the bright sun and was back on shore to dry. I could feel the sand stick to my bare, wet skin as I lay down on the beach. I listened to the waves going in and out and closed my eyes, warmth radiating through my body. Suddenly, there was a rustle in the nearby bushes.

Thinking it was, perhaps, some brightly colored bird, or a cat, escaped from the town, I opened my eyes and looked towards the sound. The rustling continued and I saw a small pale hand brush aside some leaves, followed by some golden blonde hair. This girl, wearing a tiny silver metallic bathing suit, just covering the nipples of her surprisingly large, but firm, breasts and exposing her smooth, long stomach and slightly visible hip-bones, stepped onto the sand of my beach with her dainty bare feet. She looked as if her mind was preoccupied with something; I watched her place her feet until she finally looked up and noticed I was there.

"Oh!" She squeaked, obviously as surprised as I was to find that we had both chosen the same secluded beach to trek to.

I noticed her eyes were red, as if she had been crying, and her face had a look of melancholy, despair even.

"I'm sorry..I didn't think there would be anyone here..I'll leave.." She muttered.

"No, stay if you like." 

I felt sorry for her and was curious what had led her all the way out here and caused such a pretty face to look so sad. Also, I hadn't bothered to put on any clothes and noticed her eyes looking me over in what she most likely thought was a subtle way.

She sat next to me and picked up a handful of sand, then let it fall back through her fingers.

I leaned up onto my elbows, admiring her profile in the light, tendrils of hair wispy around her face, a bit of sweat glistening on her forehead and between her breasts. 

"Why are you here?" I asked.

Tears began to fill her eyes, "Honeymoon," she replied.

I said nothing, waiting for her to go on.

"It's supposed to be a happy time, I know, and this trip was going to be one of the best of my life, but.."

"But what?"

"We had waited until our wedding for sex. I was a virgin, I wanted to save it for the one I would spend the rest of my life with. He is the one and it was going to be a night of passion and love between us.." she looked up from staring down at the sand to my eyes, "I'm Stephanie, by the way, and I don't usually talk to strangers."

"I'm Mya, and I don't usually either, but nice to meet you," I smiled and offered my hand. She took it and gave a weak smile back.

"Can you get off by yourself?" I asked.

She looked confused then realized what I meant. 

"Yeah of course. I mean, I think so.." She answered. I wondered how one could not know something like that, if you have had an orgasm you know it, maybe that was her problem, she had never had one.

"Show me." I said.

We were staring at each other; as I looked in her eyes, I felt like I could see her thinking it though, deciding what to do.

Without saying anything, she stood up and stepped one leg, then the other out of her tiny metallic bottoms and dropped them on the sand. Her pussy was mostly bare, with a small landing strip of hair. It was soft and pink, probably barely touched except for these past few days. She must have went to a spa for that wax right before the wedding.

Showing no signs of embarrassment, perhaps because I had been and was still totally nude and comfortable, and because the beach was so beautiful and the sun so warming on our skin, she sat back down, this time in front of me, and I sat up full, my arms around my knees, watching her.

She spread her legs and stroked a finger slowly on either side of her clit, then down the middle of her pussy. She used her palm to press and massage herself. Her other hand reached under her bikini top, grabbing her left breast and pinching her nipple between her fingers. It was turning me on, I could feel my body getting hot, but I managed to maintain an appearance of objective observer.

Her breathing became heavier. She took a finger and slid it in her pussy, it was wet and slick, but even so, I could tell it was very tight. I wondered how long ago she consummated the marriage, he must not be very big, I thought with a smile. Her finger was exploring around inside of her, then rhythmically pumping in and out. She added another finger, slowly pressing it in next to the other, stretching the hole.

"Fuck," she breathed, moving her fingers faster and grinding her hips, riding against her hand.

Her body was creating a small indentation, the sand clung to her sticky pussy as the covered her fingers. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, her palm pressing hard against her clit, while her fingers stroked in and out. I felt myself getting wet, and my nipples were hard. She gave out a moan and leaned her head back, arching her body as she came. 

Still breathing heavy, she smiled and looked at me. I kept pretending my hands were rooted to the ground, resisting the temptation to touch myself or to touch her. She took her fingers out of her pussy and took them to her mouth, licking them clean and looking at me. 

"Thanks, I've never done that before," she said after a moment. She untied her bikini top, letting her large breasts and bright pink hard nipples free.

"Come swim with me," she ordered, standing up and facing the ocean. Her skin was smooth and light. There was sand on the back of her legs and on the crease of her round ass. She didn't bother to brush it off before diving into the clear turquoise ocean.

Stunned, unable to reply or do anything else, I got up and followed her, walking into the surf, then swimming out to where she was.

When I reached her, the water was deep where we could barely touch and the beach looked smaller than it did when we were on it. Her gold hair was wet and drops dripped from the ends of her bangs onto her face. A wave washed into us and with that push we grabbed onto each other and kissed passionately. Her body was slippery in my grasp and her tongue soft but quick as we devoured each other. Our breasts were pressed together, my soft small ones with brown nipples and her larger pale ones. Our lips parted and we looked at each other. Her hand darted under the water, finding the area between my legs. She shoved her fingers in and I screamed out in pleasure. She disappeared under the water and I felt her fingers pumping in and out inside me then a small tongue on my clit as well. She licked the tip, her little tongue moving fast back and forth then slower in deep big licks and sucking. I felt her fingers move out of me to hold onto my legs and position my pussy closer to her mouth where she could lick and suck and her tongue could enter me as well. I was struggling to stand on the ocean's floor, the waves kept crashing into me. I could barely make out her shape in the water below me. I had no idea how she was able to stay under so long, but at that point I could barely concentrate on staying above water myself.

Her face was against my pussy, tongue working hard inside. She pushed a finger into my ass and I screamed out again. Some forceful thrusts of her finger and hard licks of her tongue and I came hard, my body writhing in the water. She licked me until I came down from the orgasm, then kissed my stomach and up to my breasts then swam up to hold me and kiss my mouth. I closed my eyes and kissed her back. I was surprised to find her mouth not full of water she was down there so long. We separated and I opened my eyes and looked back at her.

"I have to go now," she declared.

"Back to the husband?" I asked in a slightly mocking tone, unhappy that she was leaving so soon and so suddenly.

"Yes," she solemnly replied.

We embraced and kissed again, our bare breasts pressed together again, my hands wandered down her back, until it felt strange. Her smooth skin felt different; it was more slippery in the water. Before I could figure out what it was, she broke off the kiss and pulled away from me, sliding underwater and out towards the horizon.

I waited, confused, looking out across to sea until I resigned myself to the fact that she was not coming back. The sun was setting over the water, so I started to swim back. Back on the shore, I saw our footsteps and the indents where we had sat in the sand, though her bikini was gone. If it weren't for those signs, it would have been hard to convince myself anything had happened today. I daydreamed alot, and that day had seemed like something out of a daydream. I gathered my things and tied on my bikini, my clit was still a bit hard, and pink and warm, and my nipples still tender when I brushed my hand against them. I wondered where Stephanie had gone. She had looked so sad when I met her, maybe she simply swam out to sea. But then there was the strangeness I felt on her skin before she left, and the length of time she spent underwater. Not to mention such skill at eating pussy, especially for someone who had only been with a man and only just recently. She seemed so genuine, I could hardly believe she had lied about anything.

I decided not to tell anyone about what happened that day. I still think about it and wonder. I decided that she was probably just a good swimmer and swam to the other beach. Just because someone says they are inexperienced at sex, doesn't mean they are inexperienced at other things, like holding their breath or swimming great distances underwater..It was easier for me to create a plausible explanation and believe it than to accept what may have happened, and who or what I may have kissed that day..



Sand and Sea and Sky



When the sun disappears into the sea, setting the sky on fire, I rest my tired body in the sand. My eyes close immediately, blind to the miracles nature presents, and I fall asleep under the cool evening breeze. 

In the early hours of the morning, when only a distant shimmer behind the mountains indicates that the darkness of night isn't eternal, the cold and the need to urinate wake me up. No animal would ever do its business where it sleeps they say, and although I am not an animal, I stumble a few steps onward before I squat into the sand and let go a stream that could fill another ocean. I am not careful, and my urine runs down my legs, hot and burning into the scars and scratches the scrubs and bushes have given me on my last expedition into the mountains. 

I crawl back to my resting place, where I hope to find a remainder of my own body warmth in the sand, and close my eyes again. The cold makes me shiver and keeps me awake. My eyes open once more and for a while I watch the stars getting paler as the vast night sky slowly lightens up. Finally, I decide to get up and continue my journey.

Walking warms me up, and the sun helps as it rises over the mountains. For a while, I don't have to think of anything but setting one foot in front of the other. When the sun has almost risen to the highest point of its daily journey, pangs of hunger become impossible to ignore, and I leave the seaside and make my way up the mountains in hope of finding a stream of fresh water and some berries or roots. If I am very lucky, I come across a bird's nest with eggs. I crack the delicate shells with my teeth and cool, slimy liquid fills my mouth and runs down my throat before I spit out the remains of the egg's protection. Sometimes I can even catch a small animal whose neck I twist so it breaks with a sickening sound, and whose meat I eat raw, smearing my face with blood, because I have long forgotten how to make fire.

When I have eaten enough, I return to the sea and walk some more under the sun, whose heat becomes soon unbearable. Drops of sweat start tickling my face and under my arms. Eventually I take off the dirty rags I wear over my shoulders and chest, and place them under a stone, so the wind can't carry them away. Then I step into the sea, deeper and deeper, until the waves spray my face with cool water, and I have to struggle to remain on my feet. The bath gives me no joy, but it helps me maintain the illusion that I am clean(s)ing myself from I-don't-know-what sins.

When I step out of the water, a vague sensation of being alive still, of being in the course of surviving yet another day washes over me, and I don't know whether to be happy or sad. Survival is the instinct of any living being and it is what makes me keep walking and eating and bathing and trying not to think.

I search for my clothes and smooth them out carefully before I place them over myself. They are my only, my beloved possessions. They are old and torn and hardly cover anything anymore. They can't protect me from heat or cold and couldn't protect me from stares if there was anyone to stare, but I wouldn't want to lose them for anything in the world. They are the only things that remind me that I am, in a way, still human.

Between the shrubs and small trees that separate the seaside from the mountains, I search for a shady spot where I can sleep for a few hours. Despite my bath, I attract flies. I have long given up chasing them away. They cover me like dark rain while I drift away into the feverish dreams that always accompany my afternoon naps.

When I wake up, it has cooled down and my dreams have filled me with horror and the need to walk on, to escape, to reach somewhere safe. I walk until I am too tired to go even one step further. At that precise moment, the sun disappears into the sea, and I sink down into the sand. The seconds before I fall asleep, I see the fire of the setting sun through my closed eyelids - red and burning. I have to fall asleep quickly so I won't remember. The memories are hazy and confused these days, but they taste of smoke and fear... they make the waves burst against the shore with screams... they make the sea gulls cry like lost children.

***

That's all we were -- lost children, though we felt grown up and all-knowing. I was an adult in the eyes of the world, and I believed myself wise, above everything.

"Don't go there at that one night of the year," those who were older than us had always said. "Strange things happen at that beach every year that night."

When they said that, how could we not have gone?

***

His name was Michael. He was 20 years old, dark and tall, every girl's dream, and he was mine. We knew each other two or three years already, we spoke of marriage. To think, that I once thought of things like marriage!

We had decided to wait, as they say, but eventually we changed our minds. Our need to be as close to each other as possible was overwhelming. If we were going to do it anyway one day, why not now? We thought we knew that we were going to spend all our life with each other. And if we were going to do it, why not turn that so-called night of horror forever into a night of love for us?

***

When everyone went out to celebrate, we went to that secluded stretch of beach, where pine trees reached almost into the sea, where we knew we would be alone because no one dared to go there during that night, thanks to local legends. When everyone dressed up as monsters or princesses, we took off our clothes altogether.

I told my parents I was going to a Halloween party. I was nineteen, old enough to do what I want, of course, but my parents were conservative enough to expect their daughter not to have any sex before she is married, and I wanted to avoid questions. Michael picked me up; I waited for him in the pretty dress of a flamenco dancer.

Children in all kinds of costumes ran around us as we approached his car. The whole town seemed to me on their way to celebrate, the air was filled with happiness. And I felt most happy of all. We left the lights of the town behind us, no one was thinking of going to the seaside. Michael parked the car near the beach, and we walked toward our spot of choice. The air was clear and beautiful, the pine trees rustled mysteriously. My heart seemed to beat twice as fast as normal. The moment had come.

It wasn't the cold that made me tremble as we lay down under a tree on the blanket Michael had brought. My mouth searched his; my fingers longed to feel his skin. We tore clothing off each other breathlessly. We couldn't wait; we wanted it to happen now.

And then we sat up -- let go of each other and stared each at the other's naked body we had seen so many times before, unsure of how to continue.

"You are sure you...?" he asked in a whisper.

Unable to speak, I nodded.

He reached out to me to touch me tenderly, and his fingers felt like fire on my face.

Slowly, as if of its own accord, my hand went up to his face too. His skin felt soft and young. Our faces drew closer to each other. His breath felt warm on my face, he smelt of the sun and wind. When our lips touched again, when our tongues started their dance, it was slow yet with a passion I had never thought myself capable of feeling.

His hand wandered to my hair. The other one reached around my back so he could pull my body closer to his, warm me with his skin, let me feel his heartbeat against my chest. Our kiss never broke, as we lay back on the blanket. I closed my eyes; so I would only feel... feel his touch on my skin and the taste of his lips, feel the weight of his body on mine and the slight taste of salt on his skin. And feel his erection pressed against me, which suddenly scared me a little with its size and hardness -- and which still I wanted to feel inside me more than ever.

His hands seemed to want to touch every last bit of me, they were rough, yet their touch was soft. I felt my body react to the contact with them, felt my nipples grow hard. And his own skin felt smooth under my fingers, as I ran them over every part of him I could reach.

He propped himself up on his arms, I felt his member at my entrance, felt my own wetness. Bit by bit, he entered me.

I wrapped my legs around his body and tried to pull him into me. I was impatient. I wanted to feel all of him. Now.

With one thrust he was deep in me, and for a second, a sharp pain caused me to gasp. He paused... I felt him filling me, and then, he started moving again. I had forgotten about the initial pain. He was moving slowly at first, then faster, faster. . The waves took our rhythm; the wind accompanied us in the trees. I could hear the very heartbeat of the earth moving with us.

All became one: Our naked bodies, pale in the moonlight, the beach we were lying on, the wind that cooled the sweat off our skin, the waves that broke faster and faster against the shore. We became sea and sand and sky.

The waves were inside me, I was the sea, they grew and grew, and when finally they hit the shore and broke into white foam and fountains of water and moans of pleasure, I wasn't sure what was me and what was him, or where or who or what we were.

And only then, as Michael's movements grew slower and stopped, as he rested the weight of his body on me again, only then did I open my eyes again and, for the first time, saw the night sky above me, covered in a multitude of diamond stars.

I shivered; it had grown cold. Michael wrapped his arms around me.

"Let's go home," he whispered into my ear.

I shook my head.

"I want to sleep here, it is so beautiful."

He thought for a moment.

"Good," he said then. "But put your dress back on, or you will catch a cold. I will try to find some dry wood and make a campfire, so we don't freeze."

***

When I woke up, everything was hot and smelled of smoke. My eyes hurt, I could barely see. Michael was shaking me, urging me to get up.

"The fire..." he started, then he coughed. "The blanket..." he started again.

I rolled to the side, fought to get onto my feet and stumbled to the side as he grabbed the blanket we had been sleeping on and began beating the flames that seemed to grow with every moment. They became a sea of heat and brightness that reached out to every one of the pine trees. Roaring waves surrounded Michael, while I stood at a small distance, watching his fruitless attempts to beat out the flames with the help of the blanket: He only seemed to help them grow.

And then I saw them: in the trees, in the flames. Arms, hands, mouths, teeth. Reaching out for Michael, and reaching out for me. Everything around us came to life, but their life was filled with a wish to kill, to destroy us. The fire had eyes and a mouth from which it roared an unimaginable scream into the night. It was full of beings -- I don't know whether they were people, their outlines inside the flames looked like them, and they wanted us to join them. Something in me knew that those were the people we had been told about. The ones that had disappeared from this very beach, some hundreds of years ago and others only a few decades back, but always on the same night of the year, always on Halloween. They had come back, we had called them with our presence, and now we were doomed to join them too. One look into their empty faces told me, that we could never rejoin human society.

I stood at the same place as before, under a big tree that had not yet caught fire. I was still safe, but unable to move even one step. I could just watch. I saw the blanket catch fire, I saw it escaping Michael's grasp, turning around on him, trying to hug him and pull him along into this sea of death. Then I saw a tree above me lighting up with red flowers of fire that were hissing at me, jumping towards me in the hope that they could decorate my hair with a wreath of orange blossoms. They wanted to dress me with a gown of bright embers and turn my red and white dress into black ashes.

At that moment, the numbness that had tied my body to the same spot weakened, and I turned around and started running. I ran to the sea. I hoped the water would protect me from the fire. I ran along the beach, to get away from where I was, to never face anyone who could ask me to retell what had happened, hoping that I would find someplace safe. Far away, I could see the sky turn lighter -- a first indication of the upcoming day, and I felt a need to run... run... get away, never stop running.

Far behind me, I heard Michael's screams. The last thing he screamed before he died was my name, and the echo of that scream has never left me since.

***

After a few hours, my running slowed down. I became hungry and thirsty, and learned to search for water and food in the mountains. I became dirty and tired, and learned to bathe in the sea and sleep on the beach.

Each time I woke up, I felt the urge to walk on, to get away yet further. The first days were hard. I was much more human then, the sea and sand around me didn't accept me yet. The sun spit fire at me. It made my skin burn hot and red, and come off in long white stripes. The sand had teeth that bit my feet with each step. It made them bleed, and the waves hungrily swallowed my blood. Everything was my enemy -- the streams in the mountains, the berries and roots that hid from me, and there were days when I couldn't satisfy my hunger at all.

Worse than the days were the nights. I often watched the sun set before I closed my eyes, and I watched it with apprehension and fear. I saw the sun being swallowed by the sea, bit by bit, a trembling globe of gold that got sucked into the cold waters. Each evening I wanted to run, swim, hold on to it. I was scared it might not be able to come back next morning. I repeatedly saw the last tiny corner of the sun send one last bright shimmer across the earth, like a scream for help, and then it was gone and darkness surrounded me.

Dreams of fire and smoke and someone screaming my name woke me up every night and the heat I felt during my sleep made me tremble yet more in the cold of the early morning hours.

Sometimes, in the beginning, I saw people, far away sitting at the beach, or saw little towns in the mountains. I hid in the bushes to sneak by unnoticed. Afterwards, I wished I had gone to them, for just a night in a real bed, for a shower, for some bread. With time though, I forgot about that.

I am the one that walks, that is what I do. I have to walk and walk, because that is the only way to not hear the screams, not smell the flames, and not think. Sometimes, when I wake up, I wonder if I should just stay right where I am, not walk, not bathe, and not eat. But then I get up and walk on, as I have been doing every day. 

The time when I won't get up will come, but it is not here yet. The day will come when my body will sink into the sand, as it does every night, just when the sun disappears into the sea -- but in the night, no cold will wake me. When the light travels back up into the sky from the other side of the mountains, my body will still lie where I put it to rest in the evening, and finally, I won't have to run. I won't be scared anymore. I will just lie there and rest, as my bones become sand, and sea, and sky.



Sand and Sex



It's nearing sunset as I walk down the private beach with my Goddess, playing in the surf and spray. She is wearing a long white T-shirt and bikini bottoms and as I splash her I try and steal a look at her firm dark nipples peaking out from under the wet shirt. She laughs and dances away from me. She is soaking from the warm water and as she moves this way and that I watch as the shirt clings and slides over her body. Finally I reach out and grab my Goddess, pull her tight into me and kiss her deeply. I can feel the warmth coming off her full breasts as I reach down and pull her waist into mine. I know she can feel my presence now as my cock jumps to life pressing urgently against her. 

I lick the salt water from her neck and trail my tongue down and away to the top of the tee shirt. I pull the top out with my teeth and look down at her beautiful breasts smiling. Her nipples are rock hard and straining. I know they want to be licked and sucked upon and I move my hands to remove her shirt so that I can do just that. She laughs and catches my arms behind her back with one hand and the other strays down into my shorts as she begins to play with me. I moan and with nothing else to do I continue to stare at her milky white breasts. She teases me by moving her chest around as she tortures the head of my cock, moving those lovely breasts this way and that, rubbing her nipples against the rough fabric of her T-shirt and making them even harder. I moan loudly and the T-shirt slips from between my teeth. She giggles and swings her hair around to slap me in the face. She feels my cock jump and begin to drip, becoming very wet. She does it again and I gasp out, my cock now soaked with pre-cum. 

Then suddenly she sprits away calling, "If you catch me I might have a surprise for you." I run harder than I have ever run in my life. I am sprinting behind her trying not to notice the way he ass moves, or think about what she must look like in front as those sexy tits bounce about. Then suddenly I notice she has stopped and in my haste to try and catch her I trip and fall foreword rolling across the soft sand. I roll for a minute and then stop lying flat on my back, dazed and winded. In that state she pounces on top of me straddling my chest. "Well I caught you instead, I guess that means I get to have a surprise for me." With that she rips off my shorts. I can feel the snaps that she put in place on them for this very purpose give way. 

"What if some one comes along?" I ask. 

"Well I guess that you will have to tell them that you are mine to do with as I please. But I guess you are right, it might be improper for and proper lady to see a dirty toy like you. Humm what should I do?" She wonders. "Ahh I know" She leans in close to my head and I am granted another view down her shirt. "Don't move or this is the last time you will see those for a long, long time." 

"Yes Goddess" I whisper. With that she begins to bury me in the sand, starting with my toes. She digs trenches under me burying my legs and torso low but leaving my waist and head high. My arms are completely pined but my now simi hard cock and face are not covered. Then I feel the cool sand being placed on my cock and I shiver with pleasure and wonder. 

Finally I am completely covered except for my face. She the straddles my chest and I notice she has taken off her shirt. She dangles her nipples over my face and I desperately lick at them, tasting the sweet mixture of salt, sweat and her. She slides her nipples back and for the over my mouth. I also can feel my cock wanting to get hard. Straining, but the sand is too heavy. I moan in frustration. 

Then she speaks. "Now my little love slave I am about to put my shirt back on, but that shouldn't matter much because you are not going to be seeing anything but my sweet pussy anyway. These are the rules. I am going to sit on your face and you are going to eat me for all you are worth. I am going to be facing the setting sun and I am going to cum as the sun sets one way or the other. If you can get that lazy cock of yours strong enough to poke through the sand then I will come on your cock and let you cum with me, if not I will cum on your face and you will have to stroke yourself all night without cuming. Grunt once if you understand." 

I grunt and she disappears for a moment and then the next thing I see is my Goddess lowering her naked pussy toward my face, and then I can see nothing. I lover to eat her pussy and I attack it with a burst of energy. I slide my tongue up and down between her wet lips and flick it over her clit; I suck her clit into my mouth letting it slide in and out of my lips. Then I remember that I could be rewarded if I can do the thing she asks of me. I concentrate what she must look like up there, fucking a mound of sand, making love to the beach. I listen to her moans as they come with the sound of the surf. I think about her breasts and wonder if I am really good someday if shell let me cum on them, I would clean them up latter but oh for that chance. I can feel my cock becoming like steel and I try and move my hips up and down to thrust my cock out of the sand, all the while sliding my tongue in and out of her pussy, fucking her with my mouth. 

My cock is now able to slide up and down in the sand and I realize that while she might look like she is fucking the beach, I really am. I have to concentrate on not cumming then as I almost blow my mind and cock at her creativity. I redouble my efforts on both her pussy and my cock. She is now sliding her pussy back and fort over my face like a wild woman. I know she is close so I work even harder. Finally I feel my hips thrust through the sand and come out in the open air. I continue to thrust away and I feel the rest of the sand fall away. Then her sweet pussy is lifted from my face as she leaps from there to my waist impaling herself on my cock. 

Now cum now she is screaming as I franticly thrust in and out of her. I rip myself from my sandy prison, sit up wrapping my arms about her grabbing her breasts, biting her back and exploding deep within her and she dances all over my slick cock. I keep thrusting as I my cock jerks and jerks and jerks again spilling myself into her. She is still screaming wildly as he body quakes all over mine and then we are both spent, I slide back down into the sand and she falls forward on my legs, my cock still buried in her. I can feel the after shocks of her orgasm on my cock and I know she is teasing me. Keeping me hard. I know that with the power of this first orgasm of the night that she is far from done with me.



Sand Dreams



A deep midnight blue sky, with the bright new moon out, it's clear as a whistle out. The stars seem to glow like fireflies, they sparkle on the water. As they walked by the edge of the water, behind them left their imprints in the crystal clear sand, but each step would last longer in their life than the imprints on the sand would.

A mist starts to appear out of no where, just about waist high. The cool breeze sends chills down the spine and goose bumps appear along her arm. You can hear the leafs rustle as they swing back and forth gently in the tree tops.

They sat down on a soft blanket and curled up next to each other watching the sky. A shooting star falls from the heavens. As they sat there, holding each other they realized that their wish had already came true.

Their love was like a dance, ever step and move is like an emotion that carries them. Starting out slow, finding out ever detail and although the dance seemed the same; he dips her all of a sudden and all the mystery comes flooding back; their love never getting old. It gets stronger with every move.

She was plain, pale and all the while the most beautiful person inside and out he had ever seen. Her eyes captivated him. They were addicting and he long for them. They took his breath away, made him weak in the knees when he saw her looking at him with those deep hazel eyes. 

Like deep sea green-blue in the middle, with a dark blue circle around them. His a mud puddle brown. When they come together it's like the earth and water connecting and making a earth shattering lake, both needing each other to survive.

As their eyes meet it sparks a passion within them, something they can't deny, and they wouldn't. Their love burns so bright and it's so pure. 

He grasps her face and moves in for a kiss, laying her back. As their lips met for the first time they knew they were destined to be together. Their soft lips pressed against each other a passion eroded within them. Her lips taste better than any wine he had ever drunk. 

He glazes in her vase beauty; looking at her in all her glory. He start to under dress her. Undoing each button slowly, then gently touching her skin with the back of his hand moving his way down.

He kisses and gently nibble on her neck as his hands wander all over her body. He kisses and nibbles on her chest as his hands slowly slides up her inner thigh. 

He lightly runs his fingertips over her panties teasing her. His fingers gently massage her and his tongue tickles her breast. He looks up at her making sure she is ready for what is in store for them. She looks at him with her wanting eyes and he knows she is ready. 

He slides her silk panties off. They slide down her legs with ease. He pitches them to the side. Her hands run through his black hair that shined when the moon light hit the strains. She move it back away from his forehead. 

He starts to kiss down her stomach. He plays with her bellybutton with his tongue and his hands starts to spread her legs wider. His mouth moves closer. He lightly blows on her wet lips. This sends shivers down her body.

He looks up at her and whispers if he can taste her, she replies yes baby. He runs his tongue up and down her lips. He gently parts the lips with the tip of his tongue as it moves up and down. 

He finds her hard clit and deeply kisses it. He sucks on it, in and out between his lips. He holds it with his teeth and rubs it with his tongue. Up and down; back and forth. 

He opens her lips with his fingertips and rubs his tongue in circles around them. He presses his mouth into her pussy forcing his tongue in deeper and deeper. She feels his tongue playing deep inside her. 

He rubs her clit with his fingers and he wanders inside her with his tongue. Her pussy begins to contracted around his tongue as he slides in and out. His fingers begin to rub her clit harder and faster. 

Making love to her with his tongue...deeper it goes and harder with every movement. His other hand moves up her body playing with her hard nipples taking over her body. As she hits the peaks of passion he tastes her sweet cum.

He slides back up her body. He penetrates her; begins to rock back and forth. Her legs wrap around his hips. They sway back and forth like the waves of the ocean. With the rocking comes the pleasure that brings them closer together. Making them one..heart...body...and soul.

As the sun starts to rise, they had one of many nights of wonderful love making they had ever had. He lays there watching her totally given out. He watches her chest rise and fall. With every breath she takes gives him a sense of completion.



Sand Dune Encounter



It was a beautiful warm Wednesday, and I had decided that I would skip work and go for a surf! The beach I usually go to is secluded, and only the locals know about the great surf there. The beach is often deserted, being protected by a series of sand dunes with access trails through the scrub and grasses. The surf report for today, was "small to medium waves with a light off-shore breeze" I was really looking forward to getting into the water! 

I walked through the scrub along a track to the beach. Tee trees creating a green tunnel with mottled sunlight filtering through. I was thinking that this would be a great place for a play session. As I played out in my mind the scene, my cock reacted accordingly, making a decent bulge in my wet suit. 

I climbed the next dune and emerged into the light. Blinking as my eyes became accustomed to the harsh sunlight. As my eyes cleared, I realised that I had stumbled upon a woman sun baking. 

She was laying on her back reading a book, one hand slipped under the fabric of her bikini bottoms. At first she didn't notice me, so I coughed, and to my surprise she looked up and smiled at me. 

I was expecting her to scream and recoil in embarrassment but this woman was different. 

She immediately noticed the bulge in my pants. And with a big smile on her face, and a sparkle in her eye she said "glad to meet you, I may have some use for that! "

I dropped the surfboard like a hot potato, stripped out of my wet suit and knelt down beside her. We kissed passionately, tongues intertwining with immediate hunger and passion. I could feel the urgency in her and the smell of her hair was intoxicating.  

I kissed her neck and nibbled her ear lobe, I could feel her lifting her chest off the towel and I took my queue to move her bikini tops to release her puppies. Her nipples were fully erect and her areola were a beautiful deep brown colour, contrasting nicely to the rest of her un-tanned breasts. 

I gently licked her left nipple and softly cupped her right breast. Caressing her breast I could feel her nipple harden under my fingers. Her breasts fitting perfectly into my hand, warm and soft! 

She started to moan as I gently nibbled, she raised her chest further offering her breast to my mouth. I bit harder and she moaned even more. I then swapped to the other breast and repeated the process. 

I ran my free hand down her tummy to her hip then across her pubic mound. I pressed down a little and stretched her skin up. I was imagining her hood being pulled up and her clitoris popping out from it's home and rubbing against the fabric of her bikini. 

She spread her legs, silently inviting me to explore her. I didn't need further encouragement! I slid my hand under her bikini bottom and was pleased to find a soft, smooth freshly shaved pussy. Venturing further down, I explored her engorged pussy lips. I had a vision in my mind of what her vulva looked like and couldn't wait to see it with my own eyes! 

My index finger found her hole, and I eased inside to my first knuckle, this caused her to moan and press back against my hand. She was sopping wet, so I decided to give her pussy my full attention. 

She lifted her knees and spread her legs wide, submitting her body to me. I withdrew my hand and then moved her bikini to one side. Her pussy was magnificent, large lips fully engorged, her fuck hole glistening with honey with a small droplet at the lower part. Her hood too was engorged with the tip of her clit poking out, just begging for attention. 

I spread her piss flaps open then dove my tongue into her tunnel. I flicked it around inside, then withdrew and traced up until I reached her clit. I ever so lightly flicked my tongue around teasingly. 

I moved around into a 69 position and immediately felt her mouth wrap around my pulsating head. She wrapped her lips around me and started to shallow fuck me with her mouth. It was an intense feeling of pleasure and I felt like I would soon explode. 

I grabbed her hips and rolled her over so that she was on top. This allowed her to open her legs wider giving me complete access to her pearl. I devoured her greedily, sucking her clit into my mouth. I varied the pressure, and swapped from sucking to licking. All the time her orgasm continued to build, she pressed down on my face pressing my head back into the sand. I was in heaven, and I hoped she was too. Her sexy musky smell and juice filling my nose and invading my body. 

She continued to ride my cock with her mouth, concentrating on my head then every now and again taking my entire length to the back of her throat. Then returning back to concentrate on my swollen purple head. My leg started to shake and before long I felt my balls tighten. 

I said "If you keep that up I'm gunna cum" 

She responded by cupping my balls with one hand, wanking my shaft with the other, and intensifying her attention on my glans. 

I knew I was going to blast a huge load, and I could feel my first contraction shooting a wad of hot white sperm into the back of her mouth. She retracted a little, and coughed, not expecting such a forceful shot. But being as experienced as she was, she let no cum escape from her mouth. 

I ejaculated another 3 or 4 times, and she managed to keep every drop of my life giving seed in her mouth. She lifted her head and swallowed, letting out a long "yummmmm" as she licked her lips like a kitten with milk. She then kissed my head, as I continued to twitch while my orgasm subsided. 

As she was doing this I continued to eat her, I grabbed her arse cheeks and spread them apart. I again dove my tongue into her tunnel and lapped up her juice. I then entered her with one of my thumbs and returned my tongue to her lap at her clit. 

Within moments, she started rocking and riding my face hard. I tried to keep up but I felt a little like a useless rag doll. I just tried to keep my tongue on her button, flat and licking long and deep strokes. 

She started to pant and screamed "I'm cumming" her pussy continued to grind into my face as she gushed fluid over my nose, mouth and chin. She collapsed onto my body and sighed a loud "yummmmmm".

At this stage, I was still hard so she turned around undid her bikini bottoms and immediately impaled herself on my cock. Sitting in a reverse cowgirl position I could see my cock easily disappear into her body, her lips stretched around my shaft. 

I was in deep and before long I could feel my cock responding to the velvety wet feel of her vagina. My cock was coated in her lubrication getting wetter and wetter with every stroke. 

Alternating between shallow fucking, just allowing my glans inside before withdrawing, and sliding my entire length inside her. 

She then spun around into a normal cow girl position and ground her cunt onto my cock. She rocked back and forth then reached down between her legs, a finger on each side of my shaft, and wet her fingers with the leaking fluid. 

She then started to rub her clit with her lubricated fingers. Before long she threw her head back and locked her knees together as another orgasm shuddered through her body. Her pussy clamping hard on my shaft. 

She was still cumming when I sat up and threw her onto her back, my cock still buried inside her body. I grabbed her legs and pushed them back into the sand beside her chest. Her pussy was now wide open, I then started to fuck her slow hard and deep. 

My balls slapping against her arse, I looked at her face her eyes closed, her face full of lust. With every pump her breasts bounced back and forward in what looked like slow motion. I could feel my own orgasm approaching and knew that I would not last much longer. 

However, her climax was closer than mine. After a few more thrusts, she let out another moan of pure ecstasy as her orgasm shuddered through her body. Her cunt gripped my shaft hard, intensifying the feelings in my cock. I exploded into her. 

The final contents of my nuts spraying her cervix and the walls of her vagina with my nut juice. I collapsed on top of her as my climax subsided. A few moments later, I rolled off and lay beside her on the sand, I was feeling completely drained, but extremely satisfied. 

After about half an hour, I got up, kissed her passionately, put on my wettie, and said "Meet you back at the car?" 

She smiled up at me, nodding then picked up her book and continued reading......



Sand Dunes



Warm day, not a cloud in the sky as I passed the last house on the beach. Fifteen more miles of black top, all arrow straight, through the deserted undeveloped beach. The ocean, all various colors of blue; dark blue, turquoise, light blue, so lovely. Today the water was calm, small waves, nothing much.

The top was down on my triple black Corvette, my hair pulled back in a long pony tail stuffed through the opening in the back of my black baseball hat with a Corvette logo on the front. Away from the houses now, I put my other top down too. Blouse unbuttoned, the wind blowing through the cockpit flapping fabric against my small breasts. 

I'm so tempted to punch the throttle and have my back slammed into the seat. Too many cops. Insurance too expensive. So I just cruse along at the 45 MPH speed limit, good enough for now. Just then a trooper passes in the other direction, gives me a wave of his hand through the open window. Lot's of people wave, usually other Corvette owners. Or maybe he caught a glance at a breast? Made his day I guess.

At last, milepost 5.1. 'My' place, 'my' dune. Don't know why, it just has some nicely shaped sand dunes. Ones that provide some privacy, but not too much others can't see me naked when I want them too. Oh for a little exposure. Other than a car parked in the next pull off a short distance ahead, not another soul in sight. Often that way on weekdays. Love this beach. Yes, l-o-v-e this beach.

I pull off onto the narrow oyster shell filled siding. They have them every few hundred yards, otherwise a car would just sink into the soft sand. Checking, nope, no one coming in the lane next to me, I open the door and get out. Blouse still flapping in the gentle breeze, I balance on my single leg and start to put the top up. Suddenly I hear tires screeching like a car about to slam into the wall at a race track. Quickly I look around to see if I'm in danger. It's just a big old Cadillac heading in the other direction trying to stop too fast. Why? Don't know. Surprisingly, it actually stops without changing lanes or spinning around, stops directly across from me in the other lane, still in the road. Glad there aren't any other cars around. A balding older man, cigar in mouth, polo shirt, thick hairy arms, leans out the window.

"Hey honey, need a hand with anything?" I knew exactly what he was talking about and it wasn't my car top.

"Sorry. I'll wait for my girlfriend's hand."

"Well don't burn those nice tities. Shake that stump baby."

His tires squealed as he started off. I could barely hear him say something, probably would have just ruined my day if I'd understood him.

Car locked up, binoculars slung around my neck, never know when there will be something to see out here, bag over one shoulder, I crutch through the soft sand. What a pain in the butt crutching in the sand is.

The top of my dune is perfect. Great view for what feels like miles, may be too on some clear days like today. Not a soul in sight today. Tide's going out, love the way the waves lap against the shore. Gentle slope of the beach lets waves wash far up. White white sand. Looks like someone spilled a huge box of sugar. The bottom of the ocean is the same, water you can see many feet down into, no rocks, nothing to jab you toes on, just smooth soft white sand. Love to wiggle my toes in the sand. I spread out my blanket, sit down and remove my cut offs and blouse, nothing else to take off of course, the warm rays of the sun bounce off my now bare skin. Leaning back on my hands, I gaze out to sea, pretending I can see all the way across, even straining to see the other shore.

I must have only sat there for about 10 minutes, lost in a dream, when I heard a voice. It seemed nearby. Couldn't make it out.

"You're huge."

There it was again. An older woman's voice. I sat up straight and looked around. A naked man, looking as old as her, was standing at the base of the next dune. Oh my God, he WAS huge. I'd seen pictures in magazines, but never had I seen anything like this in person.

"Come, let Mommy suck your beautiful cock. You know how much I love that thing in my mouth."

'Mommy'? I picked up the binoculars and looked. Geez, was he ever hung! It looked like it could have touched his knees. No. He'd pass out from blood loss if it did and then he got hard. I giggled at the thought of him keeling over. What would they tell the ambulance driver? 'Sorry, got hard.' Well what did 'Mommy' look like? I moved the binoculars a little.

"Mom, you know how your legless body turns me on."

At last she appeared in my binoculars. I focused a little. Better now. Holy fuck! Great body, nice boobs, ... truly great body! He was standing in front of where she sat on a large beach towel, her face directly in front of his erection, both of her hands wrapped around it, one in front of the other, not even covering the whole thing. Must have been seeing things. I looked again. Oh, she only had one hand on his cock, not so long, but still huge. The few uncovered inches at the end she put in her mouth and began to suck. I was gushing juices out of my pussy like water out of a dam, trying to hold the big binoculars steady with one hand, while I rammed the fingers of the other in and out of my cunt. God this was hot, really really hot! The binoculars shook in my hand. I was having trouble seeing. Oh shit, I was having orgasm after orgasm. I was out of control. The wind stopped and I could hear them, almost like I was next to them.

"I loved watching you suck your Dad's cock last night."

"That was fun when you and I were running our mouths over it at the same time."

"But nothing better than both of you taking turns pounding my legless hips against the bed with those huge huge cocks of yours."

"Oh Mom, you're so much more beautiful since you had your legs off."

"I love being this way so much. Shut up and just fuck me son, fuck me for all you're worth, be my big stud, hump my pussy."

He was pumping his cock into her, it would bend as it hit the end of her channel. She would groan as it did.

"You're so much better than your Dad. I love the way your cock fills my cunt, stretches me so wide. Oh promise me you'll never stop fucking your Mommy."

"Now that you don't have legs, you'll never be able to block my entrance to your sopping wet pussy. I'll never get tired of fucking my Mommy. I can't wait to suck Dad's prick again while I fuck you like last night."

"I get so turned on to see you sucking Dad, but I also love to jack both of you off and cover myself, specially my face, my mouth, oh yes, love to drink it, to feel it slide down my throat, in the gallons of your cum, oh fuck, both of you can cum and cum so nicely."

I dropped the binoculars and forced the fingers of the hand that held it inside me, my pussy now filled with 8 fingers, my cunt spread wide, about to split me apart. If I could get my fist in me, or both fists, I would. Now my mind also raced thinking about being fist fucked in addition to the incest occurring right in front of me. I was having non-stop orgasms, I couldn't take any more, but I couldn't stop as I thought of him fucking his mother, how the whole family probably slept together each night. Oh fuck I love the thought of that sight. Just as a single huge wave crashed with a loud roar, I let out a muffled scream from one final orgasm. I collapsed, flat on my back, sun shining in my eyes, a long piece of dune grass brushing against my nipple, almost like a lover touching me after making love to me.

Everything was quiet now, only the soft sound of the surf. I sat up and looked towards where they had been, they were now dressed. They walked towards me. Had they seen me? Soon they both stood in front of me.

"Hey Beth, can't wait until next time."

"That was a great rehearsal! Can't wait to see the next one. Loved the part about you being legless, too bad you aren't. Maybe next time I can be one of the characters." 



Sand-filled Treats



I went to see the sea, and the shells, you see, and inquired if they would give themselves up, as almost presents, set there in sand, hidden, it seems, for, only, me...

I found red ones and blue ones and pink, and I treaded them on a string, and made a necklace for someone, I think?

In my search over the sands, I wandered along the coast, and along the shore, away from the main beach, away from the roar: Away from the town, away from the church and the steeple --through the door --far away from the people.

I climbed over rocks, where the sea came close, and clawed at my ankles, and rounded a bend in the beach; amazed to find a wondrous little cove, seagull and crab my only host, both dancing safely, clear beyond my reach. 

The cove was tiny; the sand was fine, and it shone a bright gold, in the warm light --the sun being high. The grains washed and shuffled to one side, babbling, in a rip, that threatened my footing, with a vicious swill of its tide. I felt as if I was the only one to have ever found the secret sandy retreat; it was so hard to get to, and so cut-off from the rest of the seaside gum-shoed street -- silicone detectives, searching for that perfect spot in the sun -- well, I felt I had just found it. I whistled with joy -- tweet, tweet...!

As I rested on the rocks, at one side, admiring the pristine sands, I was startled by a little dog that came running from out of sight; around a blind corner of the bluff, alright. 

It was growling though a mouthful of clothes. I jumped down, as the dog ran off to the far end of the cove. I retraced its prints to see from whence it had come, and happened upon a second set. They were small and dainty: one with a shoe yet, the other not. They meandered up the blemish-free beach, and took a curve in the rock, disappearing around a large cold boulder, and I spotted a single sock. It was pink.

As I approached, hearing a little whimper, as if someone was crying -- or was it just a simper? I quietly crept closer, and saw an eye and some blond hair, peeping out from the side. It was a lovely young woman, about the same age as me. She was very shy, as much as I could see.

I said, "Hello, miss...do you need any help?"

She said, "Oh, yes please, my doggie ran off with all of my clothes, and I have nothing to wear now. Please help me." She sobbed.

I asked out of curiosity, "Excuse me asking miss, but why are you behind the big rock with no clothes on in the beginning?"

She said that she was taking her little doggie for a walk, and found this lovely cove, and it was so quiet, and isolated that she had taken off her bikini top to sunbathe. 

She cried for a while, and then continued. She told me that she had gotten up very early that morning to take, Willie, her little doggie to the beach, and before setting out, she had eaten a very large breakfast, and drank too much coffee. She said she had eaten twice as much as usual, because she didn't want to get hungry whilst at the sea-shore. 

She, sobbed some more, and then continued saying, "After a while, as I lay on the beach, my full little tummy began to rumble. At first I thought it was just gas, after eating so much." she said, with a hint of embarrassment in her voice, "...but after a while, of letting the gas out, I needed to go potty..." she muttered quietly. 

"I tried and tried to hold it in, but after drinking all of that coffee...I just had to go...!" she wept, "...so, as been as it was so quiet here, I took off my bikini bottom and went potty behind this rock," she said shyly, "...and...and...and as I hid behind the rock, my naughty little doggie ran off with my clothes." she said in a pitiful, helpless sort of way.

I asked, again out of curiosity, "Well, how long were you behind the rock...?"

She said, "...I was quite some time?"

I said, "...But it only takes a few seconds to go pee-pee...? Why did you take so long, perhaps your little doggie thought that you had gone off and abandoned him, and forgot your clothes, and he is running all over the beach looking for you, trying to find you, and bring your bikini to you...?"

The beautiful young woman, shyly said, "I know...but I had eaten so much at breakfast...and all of those cups of coffee...and my little tummy was so, so swollen, that I had to do #1 and #2...! I couldn't help it. I had to go pee-pee and bong-bong..."

"But, again, it only takes a minute...?" I said, wondering.

She said, "No, I must have eaten too much, because it got stuck halfway out, and I didn't know what to do. I was afraid, and it took over half an hour. It was almost like having a baby!" she exclaimed.

I moved closer. "Come, let me help you out from behind that rock, and then I will look for your naughty little Willie." I said with a flash of a pun in the meaning.

The lovely young little woman said giggling, "But I haven't any clothes on."

I said, "Oh, don't worry, I have five sisters. It's not as if I haven't seen it all before. Come give me your hand, and be careful not to slip."

She nodded, and smiled, and reached out her hand, and placed it in mine. As she tried to step out from behind the rock though, she trod on a piece of slippery seaweed, and fell. She cried out in pain, and I rushed to her aid.

As I came around the side of the rock, I saw a beautiful, young woman laying there over the pebbles, whimpering and crying from the fall.

She was beautiful. Her breasts were huge, but firm, and her nipples were brownish-red, and almost the size of tea-cup saucers, and they stuck out close to a full inch, probably because it was quiet chilly behind the rock, in the shade and shadow, of the cliff behind her.

Her skin was smooth and silky, and tanned, except for where her bikini top and bottom had been. Her breasts were way too big for her 21 inch waist, but her voluptuous buttocks matched them perfectly. 

Her eyes were as blue as the trapped tepid waters of a crystal clear lagoon, and sparkled with hues of azure and chartreuse; her lips full and red ordained her fine sculpted features like two curly, ruby, wrist bracelets, laid across a coral colored velvet show-case mount, and as she lay there, on her back, I noticed that she had shaven herself clean of all womanly hair, beneath herself - between, her open muscular thighs - and a little frill of velvety pinkness spilled out from her vertical arc, which ran seductively from just below her distended belly-button, around and between her, and under and through her -- thighs, toward the back of her, down there.

I pretended not to notice, but something started to swell in my groin, and it made its way through a hole in my trouser pocket, and almost stuck out the side. It was very big, and it got so hard that it ached. I put my hand in my pocket, and gasped, and it spit up the cuff of my shirt. I shuddered, and bit my lip, and pretended to cough, to mask a moan of bliss. The single spurt had taken the pressure off, and I pulled my hand out of my pocket, and the cream ran into my palm, and dripped from my ring finger. The young woman noticed, and sighed, involuntarily running her tongue over her glistening strings of rubies, until they glowed, and sparkled, and steamed. 

I bent down to pick the young woman up from where she had fallen. I cupped her chin holding it to reassure her that she was safe and in good hands now. She took my wrist, and kissed my palm, and it almost felt as if she was lapping at it. I blushed remembering that it was the one that I had put in my pocket -- the creamy one. Self-consciously, I gently pulled my hand away, and caught the scent of her breath, as she let out a little pant -- it smelled like sunshine on a cool summer's day.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw something long, and thick and coiled. I got a start! I jumped back, and yelled, "Look out -- SNAKE...!"

There, roasting, coming out of the rocks was a huge tan looking snake! It was almost 2 feet long and very thick in the middle, almost as thick as my wrist -- and it was steaming - and looked dangerous, its head rising up, menacingly, out from the center of the coil!

I told the young woman to stay very still, and that not to worry, I would save her.

I backed off slowly and to my right, there lay a piece of what looked like flotsam, but instead, it turned out to be a leafless stork of a large palm-tree frond. I slowly picked it up; it felt heavy at one end -- like a wooden club, or a sheleighlee. I inched forward, the Irish coming out of me with each and every step, dripping like a plumber's tap: Why, it's a puzzle, alright? The Guinness goes in as black as the Devil's arm-pit, but always comes out as clear and colorless as J.C.'s tunic, and as pure as Mary's immaculate conception, to be sure. " I wonder where the color went...? I have never used Pepsodent." I hummed in my mind to calm myself, readying for the attack. 

The young woman tried to say something, but I motioned for her to be very still and quiet, then I lunged forward, clubbing the menacing reptile, time and time again, like a good catholic priest, teaching the nuns how to demonstrate proper holy order, in a class of 40, all under the age of reasonable complaint.

When it seemed to be dazed, I dove headlong, and rolled around on the floor wrestling it into submission. Finally, I got at it with a firm strangle hold around its putrid neck, and reckoned, from watching Tarzan and the Apes on T.V., that the only way to ensure it safe to release, and that it isn't just playing possum, is to cut the head off the slimy blighter.

So, I wrestled its steaming head up to my mouth, and bit it clean off, spitting the remnant, unceremoniously, into a dark, dank crevice, away from both myself, and the young woman. The marauding monster was a slithery little devil, and it was strange, because it felt quite warm, and snakes are usually cool to the touch?

I turned to the young woman, and said, "Are you okay? Don't worry, I bit the head off the snake, it can't harm you now -- I saw it on T.V. ..."

The young woman was speechless, her eyes wide open, and her hand held up to her open mouth in utter astonishment. Then she started to giggle and laugh.

I thought it was just shock, and nerves at first, but then she rolled over onto her back, and her tummy rippled, and heaved, as she doubled up laughing. Her shapely legs tucking up shamelessly, into her torso, her arms wrapping around her thighs and calves, her ringed fingers, clutching at her ankles, as she pulled her folded knees tight into her squashed breasts, then, as she bellowed, and guffawed, laying fully back, dragging her ankles along with her, opening her legs, pulling her thighs left and right, out to the side of her rolling upper body, until her under-carriage, was split wide open, and plumes of thick, musky scents billowed out from a dark central orifice, luxuriating, amid layers of deep red/purple labial sails, unfurled in the pink, wetness, of an open fleshy canoe: The tiller-man, sitting proud at the bow, presiding over his hot craft, peering out of the hooded foc'sle.

The steam from the open Cleave, drifted lazily over toward me, and as its smoky tendrils touché my flared nostrils, I greedily sucked them deep into the innards of my lungs; the pheromone molecules injected into my bloodstream, set my soul on fire, with unadulterated burning desire. I put my hand in my pocket, and several high powered spurts splashed halfway up the inside of my forearm. I shuddered, and writhed, and gasped and groaned, laying there, eyes agog, perched on my side, in the chilly gloom of the Oceanside boulder, watching incredulously, as hissing jets of golden rain, blasted out from just south of the foc'sle, and arced high into the sea breeze, clearly clearing the top of the massive boulder. The on-shore wind, catching the stream, atomized it.

Finding myself frozen with delight, I witnessed shards of sunlight machete their way through the fine mist of salty orange droplets, refracting, and projecting a perfect multi-colored arc into the drifting, billowing cloud blown back above our heads, so much so, that it almost appeared that she was wearing a wonderful, amorphous, brightly lit, ethereal rainbow-tiara.

I fell in love right there, behind that stone, under the torrential rain of her loins, writhing in the dampness of my stony bed. Gasping and soaking the inside of my shirt sleeve.

Listening to the surf crash relentlessly over the pebble-dashed sands: The roar of the Salt; drowning out the violent hiss of her canoe's vent -- enthralled!

The sound of her tummy contents being swished around her gut by the ripping abdominal muscles cramping in mirth like the repetitive, rhythmic, sloshing of a bilge-pump working away bravely; breaking the silence of the dark, with baby waves applauding, angularly, at the bow, of a quiet vessel's night's sailing; and struggling against its Oceanside quarreling row; the rudder clawing at the undertow; fish sleeping, safe, silent and deep, sweetly upon it passing -- wind pulling it out, into the deep.

Jolted back into reality; recoiling at the foghorn of her rear port-hole, as it opens and shuts almost as if under a mind of its own; issuing out regular puffs of gaseous fume, condensing in the cool of their secluded granite palace, at the back of the lagoon, like the breath of a daemonic choo-choo, shunting her hairless ring into the Paddington station of her stinking Hell -- and the racket from here pong-pong hole, could easily wake the dead itself...!

As saline vapors condensed over my brow, and streamlets of golden rain teamed down my open face -- there -- I fell in love, all over again, drinking of her honey-sweet urine from the upper ridge of my brimming lip, her yodeling laughter, worthy of an Alpine denizen, at least, rattled the very wax off my eardrum, with a timbre much akin of a trapped, angry, blue-bottle caught in a boy-scout's lidded jam jar.

Finally, I asked, "Why are you laughing?"

In between giggles and rolling guffaws, she blurted out, "Oh, my God...hahahah...! Oh. My God...! Heehee: That wasn't a snake...teehee... That was my chocolate pooh-pooh log from breakfast...hahahahah...!"

I stopped in utter disbelief, but remember wondering, as I wrestled earlier, with the monster, why the snake was warm and steaming, and tasted like ground coffee beans, and burnt toast...?

I said, in a faltering voice, "...But...but...but it was so, so huge! How could such a huge monster come out of such a petite little --?" I didn't finish what I was saying, and watched in awe, as she rolled over onto her side, facing away from me and lifted her leg up high above her head, locking her ankle behind her neck, she peeked through her legs, and smiled as she pointed to where the snake had come from.

"Look...!" she said, as she let out a little grunt -- pushing hard with her abdominal muscles, "Look, what my ex boyfriend did to me..." she sighed, "...It used to be so, so tight, and tiny." She lamented with a hint of insincere regret about her tone.

I watched in awe, as the sweet, helpless, petite young woman, lying on her side with her back facing me, her upper-most leg, raised fully up her slender side, her ankle locked between the shoulder-blade, and the nape of her thin, mannequin, neck; peeping at me through her legs, from over the top of her stretched-open, shaved vulva; looking intently into my eyes, through the meandering strands of thick, white steam, that rose, curling and eddying, through the chill of the stilled air, amid our open rock cave, of our own making: A thick, translucent sort of vapor, it was, resembling the sensual plumes that drift, lazily, out of the tip of a loosely-packed, Turkish, clove-scented cigarette, dangling seductively from the corner-grip, of well painted lips, set serenely, in the cool face of a sultry femme de la femme, as she works relentlessly, and imperceptivity, from the inside, on one's weaknesses and dark desires: An able seductress, lounging, and luxuriating with high crossed legs, working her wiles, partially obscured from view, glancing out, in feigned reluctance, from beneath the armor, of the black netted spun-web, draped nonchalantly across her steely blue piercing eyes, dangling from the slanted rim of her, tilted, stylish, pillar-box hat...

The young woman: A subtle demure grin, cut, almost mockingly, into the edges of her quivering lips, stared at me, with cold detachment, and hungry preditorial eyes. Her eyebrows seemed to be dancing wildly, in well manicured arcs, which crested in perfect Engel hyperbolic-paraboloid-saddles, over a wrinkle-free, sheer forehead, a little too deep for her cramped, highly chiseled features - betraying possible abnormally high frontal-lob development, and thus, a greater predisposition toward innate narcissism.

She maneuvered her beautiful, angelic face, into a relative position, where her eyes, looking like two tawny moons, rising off the humid horizon of her frilly, red and pink, glistening labial lips; the fuming tips of which -- tinted with subtle hues of brown and purple - filled the tight mound of her package, resembling hot pastrami, served open style, on a split, French, baggett - with all the trimmings on. 

My eyeballs almost popped out of my head as I stared at the red ring. It was massive!

It opened up, under her -- under her perfect insistence! It blossomed out much akin a sea anemone; flowing bravely from its tunneled Mother-of-Pearl flute, in a crowded coral reef. It was red and pink, and blue; with veins running about its inner rim; and I had the feeling she liked it, not only in the pink, but similarly -- 'in the stink' - now and again! 

As she struggled, and grunted, and pushed; the blaring full-bloom of the tulip-head, flaunting itself in a way, spewing out from her bung-hole, much as a rose would, in a time-lapsed film; opening, effortlessly, to the warmth of the sun's golden rays. I was captivated, and as I looked, in seconds, I was devoured by the sight; the burning, burning sight, of the distended ring: Red and pink and blue; inviting the very length, and girth of you. -- Wahoo! fruit --but of course, you knew...? 

The young woman, smiled again, as all of her - pink frill - fell out of her fuzz-less peach. She asked, in a low, sultry whisper, "Do you like hot peach pie... Yes you -- yes you -- you, my guy?"

I nodded profusely, and she offered me a plateful. I ate it greedily, and she loved it. We made lots of noise behind the rock, and I filled her peach and banana split pie-hole, with, hot, thick, whipped cream.

Later we went swimming in the sea, and washed everything between us. I caught her doggie, and gave her back her bikini, and we sat there kissing for a while, worrying about babies names.

Just before the sun went down, she wanted more cream for her peach, and we made lots of noise behind the rock again, next to the dead snake.

I gave her the shell necklace that I had made during the day before I met her, as we parted on the main beach.

We never saw each other again. I often go to the cove. I look behind the rock, but she is never there, only the snake is there, and the searing memory of weeks of burning, as my body, along with antibiotics, fought off a rather virulent strain of gonorrhea -- I miss her. 



Sand Gets Everywhere!



The following weekend was another scorcher and they agreed that the best place to spend it was beside the sea, they'd head for their favourite beach at Holcham Bay. Julie put on the thin summer dress that she'd worn to the woods and, nothing else! After all, it was a nudist beach they were going to! Simon wore a pair of baggy (easy to remove) three quarter length cargo trousers, a cotton short-sleeve shirt, and a pair of sandals. They packed the car, only taking the absolute essentials: a large beach blanket, towels, sun oil, and water. 

"That'll do, we'll stop for a bite to eat on the way" suggested Simon.

"That would be nice, I know of a nice pub near Sandringham," offered Julie. "Maybe we'll bump into Queeny!" she joked.

They set off and, at about midday, reached the pub Julie had mentioned. As they got out of the air-conditioned car, the heat of the sun was quite a shock, and they were pleased to enter the relative cool of the pub lounge. It was quite busy already, but they managed to find a space at the bar and one high stool. Simon pulled the stool out slightly and offered it to Julie, and she climbed up onto the high seat. He stood facing her, leaning on the bar and asked her what she'd like to drink.

"A white wine spritzer would go down well," she said, then leaned towards his ear and whispered, "Not as well as you going down, mind!"

"Cheeky!" he replied with a smile, and, turning towards the bar, ordered her drink and a cold glass of cider.

While he was waiting for the drinks, Julie looked around the bar. There were families at the far end, but in their part, it was mostly couples or groups. Across the bar, sat at a small table, were a group of four lads - early twenties she guessed - who were busily talking about yesterdays football. All of them, except for one, were facing away from her, but she couldn't help notice that the fourth one was facing directly at her and appeared to be taking more notice of her than his mates! She caught him looking straight at her, and she immediately felt her cheeks blush. She tried to look away, but noticed that the cocky sod held his stare, and she found herself giving him a slight smile. He smiled back but then noticed that Simon had been served, and partly turned towards his colleagues.

"You look a bit hot, gorgeous," Simon queried.

"Yes, a bit" she replied. She wasn't lying, just not telling the whole truth, she convinced herself!

She sipped at her drink, its coolness being very refreshing and she forgot about the bloke. Unfortunately, the glass was very wet with condensation, and not realising it, some of the water dripped off the glass and landed, with absolute precision, on her right nipple! She let out a tiny yelp and raised her right arm to cover her breast and take away the shock of the cold. The shock didn't last long but, as she lowered her arm, she realised that the wet material was now sticking to her breast. She glanced down and saw an erect nipple pushing against the wet patch and the dark circle around it becoming pretty obvious.

"Now that's not what I expected in a country pub, a wet dress competition!" joked Simon, "But I'm not complaining! Don't cover it up, darling, you look great!"

She did as he asked, but then noticed that her distant admirer was also looking at her, his eyes transfixed on her almost exposed nipple. She wanted to cover up, but that would have made her embarrassment even more obvious, so she decided to brazen it out. "What harm can it do?" she thought to herself, in another hour I'll be showing a darn sight more than that to the world!"

She sat up and proudly jutted her chest towards Simon, making the material even tighter across her breasts and revelling in the fact that the complete stranger couldn't take his eyes off her. 

She carried on chatting to Simon, still aware of the additional attention she was getting, and then a very naughty thought entered her head. "No, I can't!" she argued with herself, but non-the-less, found herself swivelling slowly until her knees were pointing directly at the guy. 

The dress came to just above her knees, but sitting on the stool had meant that it was higher than that at the moment and, being knickerless, she'd had to keep her knees together to avoid exposing her naked sex. That was about to change!

Slowly, she parted her knees, only an inch or two, but enough to sense the cool air on her inner thighs. She glanced around, while still talking to Simon, but could see only one person looking her way, and he hadn't stopped since the water incident. He smiled again at her, but she made as if she hadn't noticed him. She then casually lowered her right leg to the side of the stool and dangled it there. This had the effect of making her dress ride up even more, not exposing her directly but meaning that, from where the guy was sitting, he was looking directly at her pink, luscious lips - now it was his turn to blush! He initially dropped his gaze, but when he realised that Julie hadn't moved, he was compelled to look back, savouring the view.

Julie stayed like that for two or three minutes, occasionally glancing in his direction with a girlish smirk on her face, and then turning back to Simon to give him her full attention. Several times, she lovingly ran a hand down Simon's face or chest, fully aware of the attention she was receiving from the other side of the bar. She glanced across one more time, gave a pleasant smile, and then hopped off the stool to stand close up against Simon. She placed her empty glass on the bar, and then very affectionately, gave Simon a loving kiss.

"That was nice, what prompted that?" asked Simon.

"I'll tell you later," she replied with a smile.

Simon finished off his drink, and then led the way out of the pub.

As Julie past the lad, she momentarily stopped, leaned towards him and asked, "Enjoy the show?"

"You bet, lady!" he replied.

"Good" she replied, "Now I'm going to go and make love to my husband!" With that, she smiled and caught up with Simon at the door.

They got back into the car, Julie still buzzing from the thrill of her antics; she couldn't help smiling. Simon noticed this and asked her what was amusing her so much, so she confessed all to him.

"You little hussy, you!" Simon chastened her, but with a smile on his face. "Can't take my eyes off you in public for a second, can I!"

Julie feigned remorse, lowering her head and sticking her bottom lip out, but then broke into a broad smile.

Half an hour later, they arrived at the car park for Holcham Bay. It was busy, as usual, but they managed to find a space, took the bag with their beach stuff in, and set off down the path towards the sea. It was quite a stroll to the area of beach set aside for those that loved the freedom of wearing no clothes, but it was always worth it. A deep line of sand dunes ran along the back of the wide beach and, once they were well into the marked out naturist area, they climbed up the bank of sand. 

They found a convenient circle of sand, surrounded by tall grasses and placed the blanket in the middle. Without bothering to look around, Julie lifted her dress up and over her head, and then stood there, naked in all her glory. Simon wasn't far behind her, discarding his clothes onto the ground. Then, stepping across the blanket to reach her, he pulled her into him and gave her a hard, lingering kiss. When he finished, he gave her a playful smack on the bottom. 

"That's for being a naughty girl!"

"I promise I'll make up for it," she said as she gave his semi-rigid cock a stroke.

Simon reached down for the sun oil; he'd brought oil because he always thought it was more fun to put on, and loved the way Julie's body glistened after he'd finished. He squirted an ample amount onto Julie's back and then spread it evenly, down to her bum cheeks. He applied more to those cheeks, massaging them with his now slippery hands, and then down the backs of both legs. 

After turning her around to face him, he placed the neck of the bottle over her left breast and slowly squeezed. A thin stream of oil trickled down towards the nipple where it split into two, flowing around the proud, erect protrusion. He waited until the oil reached her tummy and then began to rub it in, starting from there and working up towards where it had started from, paying special attention to the soft skin of her breast, and then repeating the action with the other side.

He then poured more oil onto her tummy and allowed it to flow down both legs before, again, working up from her ankles. When he reached the top of her legs, he went either side of her slit, smoothing his hands over her hips and avoiding any contact with her outer lips. Then, finally, he poured a small amount into the little triangle of hair and, as he spread the oil, the hairs twinkled in the sun. Julie spread her legs slightly so that Simon could complete his task, and he obligingly ran his fingers around and over her lips, spending more time than was actually needed, but enjoying every moment - as was Julie!

Julie took the bottle from Simon, placed a hand on his shoulder, and turned him so that his back faced her. She poured the, now hot, oil onto his shoulders and smoothed it all over his back and arms. She then pushed his shoulders to make him lean forward so that she could do his lower back. More oil was poured and it trickled down over and between his buttocks. She eagerly spread it over his taught bottom, feeling him tense them even more. She slid a hand between his legs and prised them open, then slid the hand upwards and into his crease. She rubbed the oil into the skin beneath the base of his penis, and then circled a finger around his anus and, with a slight push, actually slightly inside him. She wiggled it there for a few moments, and then extracted it so that she could finish oiling his legs.

When she'd finished, they looked at each other and studied their handiwork, both of them glistening from top to bottom (literally!) in the summer sun. 

Simon lay down on the blanket, and looked up at Julie, standing to the side of him; he was so proud to be seen with her, he just loved everything about her. 

He ushered her to join him and, as she lay down beside him, he took her in his arms said, "I love you so much!" and kissed her hard on the lips. 

They spent an age like this, kissing and softly running their hands over each other's slippery skin, but not touching Simon's erect penis, or Julie's gaping sex lips. However, soon they'd reached the point when they could no longer fight their lust for each other, and Julie took hold of his shaft and said, "Come on, I want this inside of me - now!"

He went to role on top of her, but she stopped him and climbed on top herself. She sat on his upper thighs and took hold of his penis again, rubbing the oil that was on her hands up and down it. His foreskin rolled back easily and she pulled it down as far as it could go without causing him pain. Holding it there, she wriggled forward so that her vagina was directly over it and then, placing the tip inside her lips, sat down. She stayed there, perfectly still, marvelling at the amazing design of their respective sex organs and the pleasure that they got from them. 

She was thinking just how good a fit he and she were and, at the same time, idly looking around at the surrounding dunes, when she suddenly realised that they were not alone; sat on a dune, not more than thirty feet away, was the cocky sod from the pub! He appeared to be well settled and Julie guessed that he must have arrived while they were cuddling on the blanket. She could see that his upper torso was naked, his well toned muscles of his chest and stomach rippling in the sun. She felt Simon twitch inside her and she looked down at him and smiled.

"What you seen?" he asked.

"You'll never believe it," she said, nodding in the general direction of the voyeur. "That guy from the pub is sat just over there, watching us."

"Is he indeed, you must have made quite an impression! Ignore him, if he wants to watch, let him!"

"And you call me an exhibitionist!" she said, laughing at Simon. "But hell, why not!"

She started to rock up and down his shaft, enjoying the feeling of it filling her up and rubbing against her clitoris. She clawed at Simon's chest and, noticing that his eyes were tight shut, couldn't resist glancing back at her, not so secret, admirer. 

He was still there, but now he was kneeling up and she saw that he was completely naked, his large, fat, engorged penis standing upright in front of him. She caught his gaze, but he made no attempt to cover up, brazenly placing a hand around the base of his shaft and pulling at his foreskin. She couldn't look away, fascinated that she was affecting another man in this way. She kept riding Simon, fondling her breasts with her left hand and rubbing her clitoris with her other.

The stranger was now pumping his shaft and, even from a distance, she could see the large vein bulging on the underside. She realised just how big the beast was - at least twelve inches! Yes, indeed, he really was a cocky sod! 

She started imagining her hand on it instead of his, not being able to wrap her fingers around it, pumping up and down. In her mind, she could see the giant truncheon entering her, feel it splitting her apart, pushing against her insides. 

She was now gathering pace rocking and grinding on Simon's own, well-endowed baton, but unable to remove her gaze from the other as he rubbed his thumb over the tip and then yanked the skin back with a force that nearly made her wince, the large, bulbous head standing as if the head of giant snake about to strike.

She could see that he was about to cum, his pace getting ever quicker and his back arching, making his cock look even bigger, if that was possible! She rubbed her clitoris harder and faster, almost in time with him, and could feel Simon grinding into her and having the telltale twitches that meant he wasn't far off either. 

The guy was still looking directly at Julie, and she was still transfixed on his enormous member as, with one final long thrust, he spurted his load into the air. She was amazed at how much and how far it went, as he continued to pump until, finally, he sat back still holding his shaft and still gazing at Julie. 

Then it was her turn as her orgasm took hold of her, making her buck and grind on Simon while giving out a very audible sigh, which in turn, made Simon gush inside her. She lent forward and lovingly kissed Simon, crushing her breasts into his chest. When she'd finally recovered, she sat up, Simon still inside her, and glanced across to where her audience had been, but he had gone. 

Simon glanced up and, noticing Julie looking around asked, "So, do you think he enjoyed the show?"

"By the way he reacted; I'd say that's a definite yes!"



Sand of the Hour Glass



There is nothing but sand for miles around. Scattered about the sand dunes are lone cacti, some so tall they look like hands reaching for the heavens. With a quick whack of his machete he takes a limb of a cactus off, picking it up carefully and draining what little precious water it has in it, into his rawhide water sack. He pulls out all the thorns and begins to squeeze all the water he can out of it. He looks behind him at the tracks his made, and he can't help but feel some loss for his horse with no name.

The sun is high in the sky and he uses his hand to shield his eyes from the harsh rays. There is a screech from high in the sky and he looks for her. She is Vesper, an albino Osprey hawk, circling high above. He spots her just as she is diving head first towards him at incredible speed. Standing his ground, he holds his arm out as a perch for her to land on. Just mere feet from him, she spreads her wings out wide and proud and flutters to land on his arm and lets out a screech of accomplishment.

"Good girl Vesper." He hands her some dried meat which she reluctantly takes; it's not alive but its food and that'll do for now.

"Now, what did you find, hmm??" The man asks.

He stands well over 6 feet tall and is covered in desert sand from head to toe, wearing a dark brown leather trench coat, a long thick brown glove on one hand where his companion landed. His other hand, uncovered and open, reaches up gently and pets Vesper and she squawks a little.

His eyes close and a moment later he is soaring high in the skies. A soft voice whispers in his head, "Hello Master."

"Hello Vesper." The man says. "What do you have to show me dear?"

"There is a town north of you, it's at least three or four miles away" Vesper whispers. Though she can't be seen, she is the voice of his hawk. "There is nothing else for miles, Master. Are you sure you will make it?" she asks with concern.

"I'm sure." He says. And he gently tosses her upward and she takes flight, screaming for the sky.

He looks up at the setting sun and decides to find a place to rest for the night. With the sun hanging lower, he begins to build a fire with twigs and Devil's Brush. Devil's Brush has a few different uses, good for smoking, chewing, or fires. It burns real slow and casts a blue, not red, light and people have been known to hallucinate from the brush, hence the name Devil's Brush.

They say though, if you use too much, it starts to eat away at your memories, like a vulture on a dead horse; picking away at your childhood memories and dreams. If you've had a horrible childhood, I guess that wouldn't matter too much though. Vesper screams high in the sky, and a few moments later three dead snakes fall on the ground. He picks them up and cuts the heads off, skins them and skewers them on a stick, propping them up by a rock in the fire circle to cook. Vesper lands on a branch in a tree across from him and settles down.

Reaching into his coat, he pulls out a flask, unscrews the cap and takes a small sip. Leaning forward he turns the cooking snakes. The firelight is now a greenish color, which is the devil's weed burning. They say that if you stare long enough the devil will reach into your soul and force you into a contract for it. But those kind of rumors were only told by those who were truly too far gone from eating the weed.

"Jeremiah!" A young girl yells. He's climbing up a the side of a mountain. "Jeremiah wait!!"

Jeremiah is a few feet further up the mountain than Amy, his younger sister by four years. He hears her yelling and sighs, but keeps going up faster to get further away. He can't stand his sister, she grates on him because she doesn't understand him. She follows him everywhere, asking him all sorts of questions. So yeah, he tries to lose her all the time, even playing hide and seek with her and leaving her hidden and not found for hours.

"Hurry up already Amy!" He shouts from the top of the mountain and puffs his chest out in accomplishment, while Amy continues to climb further until she reaches the top. "Why you always gotta try and out run me!" She asks huffing and puffing. "Cuz your a turdeater." Jeremiah says.

"I am not!" she retorts, stomping her foot and making a mean face at him. "Race you to the bottom then!" She takes off back down the mountain at speed.

They race back down the mountain, laughing and chasing each other; hearing a bell ringing in the distance. Standing up, they brush themselves off and race toward home. Deep in the desert somewhere, their log house is only a few miles outside of town. Their father used to be the town lawman, until he was found hanging out on the gallows. No one knows why or what happened to their father; there were no notes or signs of a fight or anything.

Arriving at their house, their mother is standing at the door. "You guys took forever!" she says.

"It's Jeremiah's fault!" Amy shouts as she runs past their mother.

"No it wasn't.." Jeremiah starts to defend himself.

"I don't care who did what, just get cleaned up for dinner" Their mother says and then closes the door.

Vesper squawks and he jumps. Finding himself staring into the fire too long again, he leans back against the rock wall behind him, folding his arms and tipping his hat forward. A few minutes later he gets back up and pulls the cooked snakes off the fire and begins to eat. After eating he takes another couple of sips from his flask and then rolls a small cigarette of the devils weed.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Vesper screams high above Jeremiah, but this is Jeremiah only fifteen, climbing up the side of a mountain again. But this time it's much higher, a lot steeper and more dangerous. He has ropes looped around him and a belt holding assorted climbing tools. He reaches up and grabs onto a small outcropping, he shoves a device in that grabs on to the rock and then loops the rope through it.

"Jeremiah!!" Amy yells from below him. She's still following him doing what he does, she's become a regular tomboy; running around killing rabbits and snakes for dinner, going out with her brother on runs to the market, and doing anything else she can insert herself into.

"Good grief sister, can't you ever move fast enough? You're always slow as a snail." He shouts back down at her, moving faster and further away.

Getting to the top he waits. Amy struggles to reach from rock to rock, placing her foot into a hole, she puts her weight on that leg and begins to tries to reach up. The rock breaks and she loses her grip and falls, yanking Jeremiah almost off the top.

"Amy!! AMY!!" He yells.

"I'm here, I'm hurt, but nothings broken." She's holding her arm to comfort it and starts to swing herself back to the mountainside. Jeremiah struggles to hold onto the rope and he eventually is able to wrap the rope around him and put his whole weight into pulling her up.

"I'm almost there." She yells.

Suddenly the rope starts to fray and come apart. Fearing the worst, Jeremiah tries to pull faster.

"Amy hurry up, the rope is starting to break!" He pulls harder and gets closer to the ledge to try and help get her to safety, but the rope keeps continues to shred against the cliff edge. He looks over the ledge and sees his sister almost at the top; he reaches out. "Take my hand." he says.

She reaches up several times, their fingers touch but pass right through each other. But she continues to try and reach for his hand, getting closer and closer every time. The rope snaps and she starts to fall but stops sharply as Jeremiah manages to grab her wrist just in time. He is slipping himself now and trying to hold on by bracing his foot against a rock; his other hand holding on to the rope behind him.

She screams loudly, she panics and starts to flail around, making it hard to keep a hold of her hand.

"Stop flailing about damn it!" Jeremiah yells, but it does no good; she continues to flail about and his grip starts to weaken.

He's hanging on with everything he has, but she just doesn't listen, she keeps on screaming and flailing around. Slipping a little from his hand, she starts to scream and panic even more, making it harder to hold on to him.

"Please don't drop me Jeremiah, I don't want to die!" she cries out, trying to grab on to anything she can.

Everything stops, the wind, the birds are quiet, there's no sound. She looks up at him with an open mouth, screaming, her eyes wide and her hair blows into her face as she plummets to the ground.

"NO!" He shouts and wakes himself up.

He glances around to make sure no one had crept up on him in his moment of sleep. Getting up and poking the fire, he goes searching for more wood to burn. Noticing a small cave in the distance, he decides to investigate. He lights a torch and ventures inside, stumbling across a skeleton clothed in some kind of workman's uniform. A quick hunt through his pockets reveals some form of identification, with the words "Muhn Chi Xu", along with a still working pocket watch and a small carving knife that looks well cared for and old. Perhaps an heirloom of some kind?

Returning to his fire he settles down for the night. The next morning he wakes and takes the time to give the dead man a proper burial. He leaves no headstone, just a small pile of rocks with a make shift cross in the ground. He says his prayers and blesses the soul of the man's remains. He collects up his things, slings his backpack on and continues on his journey. The sand, heat, and sun are a brutal combination without a hat, so the dark cloaked man pulls his hat over his face even further.

----------------------------------------------------------------

There are telling signs that the man is getting closer as signs of life litter the edge of the trail. Tracks were beginning to look more worn in and used, rickety carts, markers and signs scattered around about. Off in the distance a church bell chimes, either for school or just to mark time. Alert, he hears a gang of men on horseback come riding up behind him; they stop in front of him, and he tries to go around.

"What's your name, and what's your business in these parts?" The cowboy asks and then, just like the typical asshat alpha man, he spits in the hooded mans direction.

"I don' wanna quarrel wit'chu boy, Jus'a let me pass. It'll be like I was neva here. " Jeremiah says quietly, but in such a way it sends shivers down everyone's back. All five of the men dismount and prepare to teach this stranger some respect for their town.

"I don't think you heard me all that well, Mister. Do you need to see the doctor, or maybe the stable hand to help you clean out the shit in your ears? I asked you a question now. What's your name?" This young kid, no more than twenty, says.

The kid slides his hand down to the polished ivory handle of his colt .45; which has never shot a man before, just some cans outside his papa's house. Jeremiah sees the young mans hand is trembling ever so slightly.

"Now listen 'ere boy." He says from under his hat. "I'ma gonna say dis one more time, Lemme pass. Other you'll be wakin up in the doc's office, or worse de morgue." The tall Irish looking man says.

He looks to be in his early to mid-forties, with long dark red hair cascading over his shoulder. He is a mess, filthy and worn down and dried out from the sun in all sorts of places. His face is rough, with nasty scars reaching across his cheek and nose and one scar slanting across one of his eyes.

"So will ye let me pass? Or ye wanna do tings the 'ard way eh?" Jeremiah says.

The five men start to pull their guns and slowly walk towards the Irishman. "No!" shouts the young cowboy. "He's mine! It'll be a fair boxing fight, winner takes all. If you win you walk away." the young man looks around, "Is that clear? Not a one of you gonna do no harm to this man if he wins."

"Yes Sir!" They say.

"Alright then, Now all we need is a referee!!" He spots her, out of a crowd of at least a hundred or more people now stopping to stare and anticipating a fight.

He is lost as he watches her gracefully cross the street. As she stops to find out what all the fuss is about, he blinks and shouts. "You miss!! Yes you!... Come here."

He points to the woman and she makes her way through the crowd, bumping and pushing through the bodies; some of them having not bathed in a few months and she wrinkles her nose and covers it. She reaches Jeremiah's side.

"Whats your name lass?" He asks her. "Coraline Bethal." She answers shyly.

"Well Coraline Bethal, how would you like to referee a fight between myself, and this bloke over here. Think you can do that?" Jeremiah asks her.

She shrugs "I don't know anything about fighting, Mister. My Daddy always taught me that violence never solved anything." she coyly tells Jeremiah.

He laughs and says "Very well then, I will teach you as we go - it's not that hard my dear. Follow me." They walk towards the center of the ring.

The young guy joins them and they go over the rules of the fight, they touch fists and back away from each other. The girl follows Jeremiah back to his corner and she whispers.

"What do I do now? Oh dear why did you pick me for this huh? I'm not going to do this right at all" she says worrying and fretting.

"Lass, justa go out there and shout loud like, "Fighters fight." justa like dat and den be gettin outta da way" Jeremiah says to the girl.

She is trembling in fear as no one has ever paid her much attention in town before now. She isn't a plain girl in any sense of the word. She is a beautiful young woman, just starting to bloom. She's extremely smart, always spending time in the library while other girls are out pursuing other things. She stands up and smiles at Jeremiah and nods. She walks out into the middle of the ring and begins to shout and then the bell rings!!

The young man comes out of his corner quick expecting to rush him, Up comes the Irishman hopping around getting closer to the kid, they meet in the middle. The kid takes a jab and Jeremiah takes it to the face, kid does it again and again he takes it to the face. Now the kid's starting to get some confidence in him and starts to dance around Jeremiah. The men square off and start exchanging blows, left and then a right, back and forth. One to the head, one to the gut, and three punch combo; in time the closing bell rings and the men return to their corners. Both men received cuts, swollen eyelids and lips, and the young man seems to have a broken nose. The bell rings again, the two men stumble back into the center of the dirt ring and the fight lasts for a good while. Coraline is not in the thick of it or yelling and watching the men closer, he fears she's gone.

Jeremiah has a burst of speed and strength and he assaults the kid with a barrage of hits. One to the chin, one to the side of the jaw, the last right blow to the temple sends the kid falling face first to the ground. Coraline runs over and starts to count enthusiastically, ".... seven, eight, nine, ten..... That's it fights over, The winner by a knockout, The Irishman!!" She shouts and cheers with the crowd. Jeremiah stumbles, catches himself but is unable to hold onto it, and stumbles again this time right into the arms of Coraline and passes out.

----------------------------------------------------------------

He begins to come around and hears muffled music and feels something soft and fluffy against his skin. He sees a woman humming softly as she pours water into one of those old wooden round tubs. He just lays there, trying to get a sense of where he is and what's going on. The woman walks out of the room and shuts the door behind her. Jeremiah looks up and around, the place is certainly a woman's place. He slowly climbs out of bed and realizes that he is naked.

"Ah you're awake finally." Coraline says with a little chuckle.

Jeremiah is startled for a moment; turning, he sees Coraline in the tub and he quickly covers himself with anything he could reach in that split second. A purple feather boa!

"Oh you are just too cute, Mister.... You know, I have had strange men in my room before, but this is the first time I've had one where I don't know their name." She smiles sweetly, and the door behind him opens up and again, Jeremiah jumps and scurries to the other side of the room, still holding the boa covering himself.

The woman pours the bucket of hot water into the bathtub. Coraline says, "Thank you Milly, that's just enough water. Would you be a dear and bring me some extra towels? And maybe a bottle of ...? " She looks to Jeremiah.

"Irish whiskey if ye be havin' any" he answers.

Milly nods, "Yes Ma'am, I shall fetch it right away. Should I have the chef make something to eat?" She asks softly.

"Maybe later, it's still rather early in the evening. Tell him to get some rest, maybe think of something new." Coraline smiles softly.

Milly smiles and walks out of the room. Coraline moves around in the tub, the steam rising from the water giving her some cover for decency. "So now, shall we? You've had my name kind sir, would it not be proper that I may know yours?"

Jeremiah walks over and sits down on a chest covered with dresses. "Well, That be a right smart question d'ere."

The door opens and Milly walks back in with a bottle of Jameson, a bucket of ice, two glasses and some snack foods on a tray held in one hand and a stack of towels in her other hand. She sets them down, "Will there be anything else, Ma'am?" she asks.

"No, Milly, I do not wish to be disturbed for the rest of the evening." Milly nods and leaves the room.

Jeremiah stands up, forgetting about the feather boa, walks over to the tray and begins to pour a drink.

"I'll take one neat please." She asks sweetly.

He nods and pours her a drink. Picking them both up he walks towards the tub. Coraline tries to keep her eyes from roaming over this tall naked man in front of her. He walks slowly, his legs muscles tighten and relax with every step, they are toned, tight, and rough. She notices that he has some bullet holes in one thigh, and a long sword scar down the other. Her eyes wander upward; he is a lean, fit, toned, well worn sort of a man. She smirks as her eyes land on his manhood; six inches long relaxed and in her mind she chuckles, noticing the manscaping. She is surprised such a man like him would take such care of himself like that. As he approaches she notices more scars and gunshot wounds. She watches his abs ripple as he moves, he reaches out to her handing her the drink.

"See anything you like?" Jeremiah asks with a wicked grin.

She takes the glass and backs away in the tub; it is very large, enough for at least five or six people, but she's never tried that before.

"Perhaps I did, or not. You need to figure that out." She reaches the back of the tub, spreading her arms out.

"You know it is not polite to keep a woman waiting, or for her to ask the same question more than twice. So if you would please be so kind as to give me your name? Or do you not have one?" Her hand slides between two towels on the left, underneath is a small .22 nothing that'll stop a man like this, but enough to slow him down.

"Forgive me, Everyone that knows me, knows me as The Irishman." He takes a sip of the whiskey.

"But my friends? They call me Jeremiah." He smiles. "Jeremiah McGowan. At your service Ma'am."

"Well Jeremiah McGowan, Since you so eloquently pointed out, You are at my service. So what do you have in mind? " she asks coyly.

He downs the whiskey in his glass, and slides into the tub. "Well first... how about we wash the desert off me. I could use some help with my back." He smirks and vanishes under the water for a few moments and comes back up gasping for air, the water running down his shoulders, chest, and abs. Coraline licks her lips and floats her way over to him. She wraps a leg around him, reaching up and taking hold of his long reddish brown hair and pulling it away from his back. She grabs a small wooden stick and wraps his hair up pinning it to his head.




Sand of the Hour Glass



Reaching over, she takes a large sponge and a bar of soap and begins to lather her hands together. Sliding her hand softly against his back, she finds his skin is rough to the touch. Bringing the sponge down, she starts to work it slowly in circles and watches as the soap seems to make all the scars disappear for just a moment. She slides her soapy hands around his chest pulling herself tight against his back and sliding up and down slowly. Her nipples begin to get hard as her hands work the soapy lather over his pecs, she finds his nipples are hard too and she rubs them playfully.

Her hips thrust up and down slow and steady against his leg, as she continues to wash him. She tenderly lifts his hand and starts to scrub from his wrist up to his shoulder, making sure to wash his underside, that soft spot in the ribs. She works her way around him, sliding her naked body against his. They stand there in the tub facing each other, feeling their hot breath on each others faces.

She whispers softly "Did that help release some tension Jeremiah?" she smiles sweetly.

"Oh, some, but I think it caused more harm than good." He reaches down grabbing her ass tightly, his throbbing hard cock pressed against her stomach. She looks up a little surprised.

"Oh my, Mr McGowan, now now. What would the others think?" She chuckles teasingly. "Screw what the others think...."

He lifts her just enough and pushes his full eight inches deep into her hot folds. She gasps out loudly, he pushes deeper and harder as if trying to hit the very end of that hot wet tunnel inside her.

Reaching up and grabbing onto the wall for support, she breaths heavily and he takes her fast and then slows down. He spins her over in the water, her back to him now. Reaching up with his rough hands and finding a nipple, pinching so hard she screams. "OH FUCK!"

His fingers are so strong and rough it feels as though he is going to rip her nipple right off, this only makes her thrust back on him harder and faster. He reaches up and wraps a hand around her thin neck, squeezing just enough for her to gasp and enjoy every thrust more as he pounds her like a beast. She screams as she cums all over him.

He picks her up and sets her on the side of the tub, up against the back wall so she can support herself. They kiss deeply, their tongue circling around each others as their hands continue to explore, He starts to slide down her kissing and suckling on her neck, leaving little soft hickey marks. His lips travel down further to find her nipples, the one he pinched and pulled on is so swollen instead of easing the pain, he decides to suck and play with the other nipple. She moans out "Oh Jeremiah." her fingers sliding through his hair.

Kneeling down in the tub, he looks up at his beautiful victim and gives her a wicked smile just as his tongue slides out and finds her clit instantly. She squeals as his tongue pokes and licks softly at first, but is then sucked into his mouth and assaulted with his tongue, caressing her hot sweet button against the roof of his mouth. She closes her eyes and gets completely lost and wrapped up in his energy, with only gasps and the occasional 'fuck yes baby' escaping her lips. As she begins to reach that sweet breaking point she screams and arches her back almost knocking him over as she cums and squirts all over his face.

He holds her as she shakes, his cock throbbing so fast and hard, then turns her around. Whispering in her ear softly he says, "Brace yourself my lil slut, this may hurt a little."

He holds her tightly as he slowly pushes his cock into her tight ass. She is shocked and surprised, no one has ever taken her this way or rather she's never let anyone until now. Excitedly, she bends over further allowing him easier access to her tight virgin ass.

"Oh fuck, Jeremiah, please be gentle. I've never let anyone take me like this" she says so coy and seductively. He slides out just a little to ease up on the pressure, and then pushes back in with a little more force, she screams out in pain and pleasure that starts to back into him, wanting him to open her up like a toy on Christmas Day. Never has she felt so completely lost in ecstasy as she gives in to him completely and she feels her body just open up and take every inch of him into her.

He starts to pound her ass hard and deep, her screaming and moaning getting louder and louder. He reaches up and grabs her hair, yanking her head back and wrapping his other hand around her throat again, pounding her ass relentlessly. Moaning, the horny little slut she is loves every inch that he drives into her; she screams for more when he starts slapping her ass cheeks back and forth, fiercely with something hard. In her head she is lost, completely giving herself to a man for the first time in her life. She's screaming in her head and in the room.

"Don't stop, fuck me yes. Don't stop, Jeremiah. Oh god yes." She rambles those same words over and over from time to time in between orgasms and catching her breath.

The pace slows, and she goes limp. "Oh my Jeremiah, I don't know if I can take anymore" she whimpers softly.

"I find that hard to believe, you sexy lil bitch. I know you've got a lot more in you." He picks her up and lifts her out of the bath and over to the bed, Before he can lay her in it she kneels in front of him, taking his hard thick throbbing cock in her hand and stroking it slowly.

"Oh yeah, you think so huh?" She smiles wickedly as she swallows his cock whole all the way down to his pelvis, and then some. She sucks hard and deep, her other hand taking his balls and softly caressing them between her fingers; she can feel how full they are, just waiting to be released. She bobs her head up and down quickly, sucking hard, then soft and then hard again, slowing down and enjoying every inch of his cock, like a hungry little animal waiting to be fed again.

She sucks his cock fast, then slow, adjusting her tongue pressure. Licking every inch of him, feeling his head slide down her throat and all she can think about is getting it in even further. She looks up at him; there is fire of passion in her eyes and she starts bobbing faster. He holds onto the bed post moaning out loud, his other hand wrapped in her hair as she lets go of his cock and lets him fuck her mouth. She closes her eyes and moans, enjoying the hard throbbing, pounding cock in her mouth and throat. She wants more, in her head she is screaming for more, give it all to me, I wanna be your whore.

He slides out and picks her up and kisses her deeply, she loves the taste of him in her mouth. He pushes her back to her bed lifting her legs up and curling her into a ball, she is spread wide open for him as he holds her ankles together, pushing her legs to her chest. He slaps her ass hard, she cries out softly. He does it again, she whimpers. He reaches over and grabs her hairbrush from the night stand and starts spanking her with it. Hitting her ass hard, over and over, she cries out.

"NO! Daddy please!! No I'll be a good girl, no please!!" But her cries fall on deaf ears and his spanking gets harder.

She thrashes her legs around, trying to get away from the hairbrush and the brutal spanking. She's crying out, tears flowing from her eyes, begging him to stop, but all the while in her head she secretly begs for more. The spanking suddenly stops and he shoves his cock deep into her throbbing wet pussy. He puts his hands behind her knees pushing them all the way back to her shoulders, using his weight against her to pound his cock deeper. She can feel him hitting that spot deep inside her playfully; he keeps getting closer.

"Yes, fuck me deeper damn it, fuck me harder" she says.

Trying to get him angry so he would pound that cock of his deeper still. He starts grunting really loud, slamming his cock deeper and deeper into her.

"Yes fuck me, Daddy, fuck me like the lil whore I am. Cum for me, cum deep inside me Daddy." She starts whispering, coaxing him on.

He snarls, she grabs onto his arms and he power drives his cock with everything he has left in him. They can both feel the tension building and she knows he is getting closer and closer.

"Yes baby..... give it all to me, let me have it. Fuck me baby" she continues to whisper.

He lets out a loud grunting roar as he explodes deep inside her, coating her hot wet throbbing walls. He slumps down into her arms and they lay there breathing hard. After a moment, they roll over and just bask in that after glow.

Moments pass before either of them say anything. He looks down, and watches her breath, she lays there listening to his heartbeat. They relax awhile, listening to the sounds of the bar below reaching up to them. The music is lively and they can hear a woman singing, getting the crowd involved. The men yell and cheer, the women in the crowd follow suit and shout loudly when it's their turn. Then the whole group gets going. Coraline slowly gets up, and starts to get dressed.

Jeremiah rolls to his side. "So is that the end of this evening lovely lady?"

She smiles as she pulls on her clothes. "Why not at all, my good sir, I am the owner of this fine establishment. You are more than welcome to come down with me, or after me if you wish."

"I suppose this is the only place still open this time a night huh?" He asks, as he rolls to the side of the bed and starts to put his clothes back on.

She rolls over, and slides out of bed. Picking up her cloths and dressing slowly. "Yea, I like to keep it open all night." She buttons her skirt, and tucks her shirt in. Adjusting her coat and hat, looking into the mirror making sure she looks alright.

They walk down the stairs together, talking to each other, the saloon is still alive with singing, drinking and yelling. There are a couple of card games going at some tables in the back. At the bar there's a steady rush of drinks.

----------------------------------------------------------------

A man sits behind a laptop, his glasses in hand and squeezing the bridge of his nose. He sighs in frustration as he can't seem to find the inspiration to write the next chapter of his book. He picks up a glass with two fingers of Jameson still left. Finishing the drink, he picks up the bottle to pour himself another glass, only to find the bottle is empty. He sighs, looking down and petting his Siamese cat sleeping at his feet. He stands, stretches and yawns.

The cat is woken by sudden movement, stands and stretches herself. He walks into the kitchen tossing the empty bottle into the trash with a loud clank as it hit another empty bottle. He grabs a bag of cat food from the pantry and fills the bowl next to it. Putting the cat food away, he reaches back in and retrieves another bottle. Suddenly his own stomach gives that familiar growl of hunger.

He walks over to the desk, placing the second bottle of Irish whiskey down. Walks into the bathroom and checks to make sure he isn't a total wreck. He stares at himself for what seems like hours. Can this really what he looks like? He thinks to himself. Rubbing his face and scratching his beard. He could probably use a shave, it's been a few months since... come to think of it he can't remember the last time he actually saw himself in the mirror.

Just as quickly as he looked into the mirror, he looks away, unable to really look at himself in the mirror anymore. Never really could actually. The sight of his own reflection causes too much chaos in his mind. Picking up his jacket, keys, and wallet, he shuts the door and makes sure it's locked. He stands in hall, it smells of piss, baby shit, something someone's cooking, and several other foul smells.

The great thing about living alone, not having to deal with other people's shit. He steps out onto the cold snowy street of Chicago. The city is alive even at this time of the night, You can hear the clubs a few blocks over, the laughter and cheers from the bar a few doors down. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a joint, lighting it and starts down the street.

In the distance a few gun shots go off, seconds later the sirens of the police chasing follow. Screams and shouts for help, someone shouts to dial 911. He keeps his head down and just walks on. There's no real reason to stop and rubberneck it anyway. The wind cuts through him like a swift knife. Chicago wind in the middle of winter is just amazingly cold. He loves it tho, Has since the day he moved here.

The snow piled high from the trucks, Some blocks have so much snow there are tunnels built through for the side walkers. He makes his way to his favorite place, picking up his dinner. Just another block and he picks up a couple of bottles of his favorite whiskey, and heads back home. When he gets there one of the alley cats is waiting on the step for him.

"Hello Murphy. How are you today?" he asks.

"Meow, mew mew." Murphy the cat says.

"That's good to hear bud, How are you today? It's kind of cold for you to be out here huh?" He asks.

"Meow." Murphy replies.

He reaches out and pets the cats head. He can feel the mange and months of outdoor living. The cat is happy, and purrs. He reaches into one of the bags and pulls out carton of milk. He looks around him, then reaches into a small hole under the stairs and pulls out a small plastic dish and pours some milk into it. He sits on the steps and decides to smoke another joint before going back in.

Murphy laps at the milk, looking up at the man to meow every few moments. He sits and smokes, across the street is a large empty parking lot. During the summer the kids use it as their play field, football, baseball, or socceer. Sometimes someone would wheel down a portable basketball hoop. Most times it ends up being filled with more adults than kids then.

People would stand around drinking and smoking, someone might bring a grill even. The big lot was a great place for everyone to hang out and drink. But tonight it's there is an earie silence coming from it, the darkness seems deeper. He sits there, staring into the dark lot puffing at his joint. Something moves, catching his eye. He blinks and shakes it off, looking at Murphy, he picks up the plastic dish and put it into the bag, and heads back in.

He decides to stop and check the mail, nothing as usual. He isn't surprised, he has no one left in his life that would bother to send him anything. Maybe a bill collector or the usual junk mail. Shutting the box, turns and at the end of the hallway, stands a small child. He stops and stares, he didn't know there were any kids in the building. The kid doesn't move, and he can't make out the face, but he knows its a small child maybe of 6 years old.

The outer door hits him in the back almost knocking the bag out of his arm, he jumps, turns to find out whose coming in the door.

"Oh I'm so sorry I didn't see you there." Says a young woman, her long reddish brown hair falls over her eyes and an orange falls out of her back, Without even a thought he reaches out and catches the orange. Her eyes meet his, shock and amazment on her face. He puts the orange into her bag and quickly runs up the stairs.

"Hey wait!" She calls out, He stops, but doesn't turn around. "What's your name? She asks.

"Edward." He says. And continues to run up the stairs, she leans over to watch him out of curiousity, she listens and counts then waits for the door to close.

He reaches into his pocket nerves, panicking, his hands shaking. The keys jiggling loudly as he tries so hard to get them into the lock, turn the key, slam the door and he leans up against it. Closing his eyes, taking a few deep breaths, over and over. His eyes closed, muttering something to himself. His breathing slows and he realizes Paddy is pawing at his leg.

He looks down and takes one last deep breath. He walks over and sets the bag down on the kitchen counter. Paddy follows him and rubs up against his leg. He puts away the things he bought. He goes over and takes a look out the window, looking over the city. He takes a sip of his irish whiskey, he begins to relax. He looks down at his cat.

She lays on the floor, licking her paw and rubbing her head. She looks up and meows at him. He smiles. Looking back out the window down at the empty black lot. He takes another sip, and gets lost in thought staring at the lot. Again something in the darkness begins to move, he leans in trying to make sure he isn't seeing something.

Again something moves in the blackness. It doesn't have much shape but it stirs. He blinks again, even reaches up with a hand and rubs his eyes to make sure. But he sees it there in the darkness, some kind of thing growing under the surface. He doesn't feel scared, or worried. He just stares, knowing this is all probably just in his head.

Things like that tend to happen when he tries to leave his apartment, the world doesn't appear the same to him as everyone else. Everything around him seems to move in waves, merging together, sometimes even looks like water. He doesn't mind so much now, over the years he has just become used to it. It doesn't really bother him to much, he kind of likes it the way the world just seems to blur together.

Most of the time he just stays inside, its easier for him. The stress of going out and seeing the world the way he does can be hard on his mind. It's not easy trying to always make sense of what he is seeing, things have to stay somewhat the same. He sneezes turns away from the window and goes back to watching something on TV.

Paddy jumps onto the couch next to him, and curls up in her favorite spot. He sits there, sipping his drink, flipping through the channels til he finds something worth leaving on. Tossing the remote next to him, he pulls his laptop back into his lap. Flipping through some webpages, he comes back to the blank page of his book, the cursor just blinking at him. *Blang Blang Blang* The alarm clock screams 9:00 am, Edward jumps up awake. The local new on the TV, Paddy pawing at his leg, looking for her food.

The sun is just starting to part the skyline as he looks out the window to the big lot. Thinking to himself the movements in the lot last night were just the junk in there. Rubbing his eyes, he heads for the coffee and begins his morning ritual. A few sit ups, pushups to get the blood flowing. He picks up the trash around the place, feeds Paddy. He decides that he is going to try and get out to look around today, the weather news said that it was going to be cool and dry today. Grabbing and stuffing his laptop into his bag, picking up a few other gadgets he likes to tinker with, along with several rolls of film, and his 450 Polaroid. This is his baby, made in the 70's but still in amazing working condition.

Murphy greets him as he steps on to the front stoop, checking to make sure he has everything. He hits the streets and heads for the "L". Chicago's amazing transit system, There isn't a place in Chicago you can't get too. He grabs the "L" downtown, listening to the latest music he's found and downloaded into his sony walkman, he finds a rhythm that helps him slip in and out of the people coming and going to or from work, or to games, events. Anything is happening in this city. He turns the corner on Canal and 89th St, begins to walk past a high rise corporate building with the 30 feet windows from the ground up.

Edward looks across the street, the traffic is moving at a steady pace, people just as packed on that street as his. He turns to walk down the street and notices out the corner of his eye. He turns, In the window is the town, The same town Jeremiah came to, and got into the fight. The whore house where Coraline took him and they spent the night together. He can't blink his eyes won't let him, his mind races, trying to make rational sense out of it. This is my book, This is the town in the book, the whore house. This can't really be happening, this is just a dream I will wake up, won't I?




Sand of the Hour Glass



Someone bumps into him, almost knocking him over. He's forced to look away in order to catch himself. "Asshole!" He shouts.

He straightens himself and looks back to the window, remembering what he saw. But there, in the window, stands a woman in a conference room giving a speech, to a bunch of stuff suits. He looks around, still trying to find himself.

----------------------------------------------------------------

The town is quiet, every door is closed right now except for one. The church, as you get closer you can hear the people inside singing their hymn's, And then the preacher starts to talk.

"Today I thought I'd come to you today to talk about Hope." Father Stevens begins. "Hope is a very precious thing. It's almost as precious as the love of God, Without either none of us would survive. Before the world turned to dust in the winds, there were tests done with babies. Some of them we left alone with very minimal human contact, Some had more than they could really use."

"The "scientists" of this time, were cruel, they found that a child left alone most of the time, with very little human contact. Would not live for more than a few months. However, the ones that were given all the human contact they could need thrived." Father Stevens continues. "Now this, this was not the kind of things that should be done. Ever again. But what it shows us, is that without human contact, without hope, we would die very quickly and easily."

The congregation shouts "Amen! Praise Jesus!"

Father Stevens continues to preach raising the people's hope for the week ahead. Knowing that there is very little hope in the world around then. They sing more, some of the congregation come up and testify. The whole church is alive with the spirit and the hope of a better tomorrow. Jeremiah stands outside down the road, knowing that no matter how hard they pray nor matter how much the preacher brings them hope, this world is not long for the present. Many towns have died out, Most of the worlds population is dead, or settled in bigger cities that have been able to thrive under lawlessness. If you were lucky enough, you'd become part of the right gang.

Jeremiah pulls out his little leather pouch and rolls him a smoke, strikes the match against the heel of his boat. Taking a few puffs, that familiar nasty taste hits his tongue, then becomes a welcomed feeling. The warm smoke, filling his lungs, and then that smooth rush of lightheadedness comes. He smiles looking up as the people spill out of their pinewood church, dressed in what one could really only consider their Sunday best.

Coraline comes up to him smiling, "Good morning Mr. McGowan. How are you this fine Sunday morning?"

"Well, I am just a bit better now Miss. Bethal." He says not really looking at her, but off in the distance. "The Pearcherman give you the strength for another week?"

"You can't hold it against him, he means well, but you and I both know there is something wrong with this town." She looks off into the distance he is, and says.

She reaches up and takes the rolls cig from his rough fingers, her fingers toughing his. She takes a few drags of it and give it back to him. "Something on the horizon, isn't it?"

He nods taking a long drag, tossing it and crushing it under his boot. "Something bad, big. But not sure what it may be." He holds out his hand for her to step up to the boardwalk.

"I've been speaking with some of the council members, Some of them are very interested in meeting you. It's not often a gunslinger reaches our town, the last one came thru way before I was ever here. Would you be willing to speak with them?" She asks.

"What is it they want to speak with me about?" Jeremiah asks.

"Right now I think some of them are just very curious to meet you period. Marshall and Sunshine however, they are the town's founding family. I believe they may try to offer you a position here in our town. It's been awhile since we've had a lawman." She look at him, and notices he grinds his teeth hearing this kind of news. "You will just thinking about it won't you?'

"I will, just don't let them get their hopes up, alright. Last time I accepted something like this, it didn't end well. And that is all I say on the subject." He says, not looking at her. They enter the tavern together for the big Sunday meal.

The towns folk enjoy being able to eat together all the time. Seems to make things easier, they know everyone gets feed this way, and no one goes without. Even Ginny, the towns oldest living resident of 118 years. Some of the younger woman and girls help take care of her, feeding her and helping her around the town. Then the farmers, can't really call them that, since there really isn't much that can grow in the desert, sitting together laughing and sharing stories of years long past. Then they spread out into their own little family trees. The children running around laughing and carrying on.

Coraline and Jeremiah walk in together and some of the people stop to look, but quickly go back to their meals. They walk over and pick up plates, forks, and cups, then proceed to fall in line with the others, the food is served buffet style with some options served by the chef and other cooks. Jeremiah leads her through the tables of people and children looking up at him with curiosity in their eyes. Some of the kids smile brightly, he scares a few into tears, others look on quietly possibly trying to figure out what he is really doing here. They take a table that just had a family leave. Jeremiah stacks up whats left of the dishes helping the young boy, Jeb, working hard to bus the tables as fast as they empty.

They sit across from each other and begin to enjoy their meal, the places starts to empty faster, Jeb scurries from table to table and he notices this grim look on his face. Some of the people actually try to walk through him as tho he wasn't even there. Further still some of the older folks push him, or hit him, one man even spat at him.

"Whats wrong with him?" Jeremiah asks nodding in Jeb's direction.

She looks up to see what he is talking about, "Oh who? Jeb? Honestly I can't say, he just kind of showed up here from the desert one day. No one knows where he came from or why. He doesn't speak to anyone, really doesn't like to be touched. But he is a hard worker and Mandy is happy to have him. She scared away the bullies in town one day, she took one look into his eyes and she didn't even have to say anything. He just came with her and started working." She explains. "He is a good person, I think the desert did something to him or something was done to him and then left in the desert."

"Hm." He mutters, and goes back to eating. The two finish their meals and head back to the motel where Jeremiah has arranged to stay for awhile, Since Coraline also owns that as well.

---------------------------------------------------------------

A roster crows as the sun breaks into the dark night sky, the clouds ripple as the air slowly begins to heat. The rays of sunlight flicker and fall against the barn of the Durham ranch. Men have been up for hours already, feeding the horses, letting the cattle graze in the field and doing the rest of the every day chores for a busy ranch like this one. Jeb struggles to keep up with his father Royal and Ben, his uncle. Together they run the ranch, the two men continue to talk about the many projects that need to be finished before the winter season comes.

"We need to get that new well dug before the ground freezes." Royal says, "We also got 40 miles of fence that needs mending, and not to mention the 30 head of cattle that have gone missing, they couldn't have just disappeared, there has to be a trail. I want you to put Weeping Willow on this, he's out best tracker give him anything he needs." He tells his brother some more details as they walk the the huge garage where the farm tractors are maintained. The noise is so loud it drowns out the conversation of his father and uncle.

Jeb is always curious about whats going on, so he wanders from tractor to tractor, looking at whats going on. The men say hello and talk to Jeb what they are working on. There's Fred whose rebuilding a transmission, then there's Tom who knows everything about mechanical stuff. He's trying to improve the farms tractors and harvesters to run better, faster, more efficient.

They walk into the "Alright, so who do you want to put on the fence mending?" Ben asks.

"Who hasn't been carrying their weight around here lately?" Royal asks. "Anyone who you feel hasn't been putting in, they get the fence job, makwe sure they got camping equipment," he thinks for a moment, "How long you think that will take them?""well it all depends on who we put on it, what are you thinking?" Ben replies.

"Well, Round them up and then we will see where we go from there." Royal nods. Anything else we need to discuss?"

"Some of the men have been asking about getting some time off, maybe go into the city for some fun. The 'Autumn Harvest' ids coming up lotta the guys are looking forward to their pay and being able to go. Something to think about."

"Yes, very true, it is that time again isn't it." Royal mutters, he isn't particularly thrilled about having to take time off from the farm. For hime its a way of life, from sun up til sun down he is always thinking and doing the work of the farm. "I will think about it more than likely I'll hear it from the Mrs.'s tonight."

"Aye probably, other than that, I don't think there is anything major going on. I've got some minor tasks that need to be done" Ben tells him.

--------------------------------------------------------------- Knock knock!!

Knock knock knock!!

Edward rolls off the couch and on to the floor, dazed for a moment, Paddy jumps on him for good measure.

KNOCK KNOCK!

"Yea! Hold on!" He shouts, hefting himself back up and tossing the blanket back onto the couch. He goes to open the door realizes he doesn't have any pants on, grabbing the closest thing he can, a bath towel lazily left out, and wraps it around himself. Click, click, snap, thump thump, clank clank, he begins to unlock his door. He opens it the chain stops it, he looks out and sees the short blonde haired girl, she smiles and her cute buck teeth show, and her braces shine.

"He.... " Before she can even finish the word, the door shuts. "llo?" She says.

She knocks again, "Well now I know your in there, so please don't let me stand out here forever?" She asks.

"Wha... " his lungs feel like they are about to collapse, "Wha.. What d d..dddoo you w ww want?" Edward stammers out as best he can. For him this is quiet possibly one of his worst nightmares.

"Well, I noticed you don't go out a lot. I live just across from you." She begins to say.

"Hmmm.... W.. w.. why arrrrrreee you...uuu... dooooing knocking on mmm... my d..d...d..ooor?" His mind is racing he can't stop, everything in him wants to run and scream, Why is this person knocking!! Please just let them leave!!

"Are you alright in there?" She asks. She can hear him speaking to himself, or at least she thinks he is. "How about this, I sit down here on the floor next to your door for awhile. And we just talk. Would that be alright Edward?"

She said my name! How did she know my name! Paranoia starts to makes it presence known through the madness of his racing mind. "H..h..how do y..y..you know my name?" He asks afraid of what the answers may be. Is this real? Edward starts to question whether he has taking his meds today or not. He slaps his head, muttering to himself.

She chuckles to herself. "You told me the other day remember? I bumped you, I dropped some stuff out of my bag and you caught it all. How did you do that by the way?" she asks.

"D.. d.. don't know." He stammers again. "W... w.. why arrree y..y..you sitting at m.. m.. my door?" He asks her.

"Between me you and the door. I don't know. You seemed like a really nice guy and so I baked you some cookies. To say thank you and to meet you." She says.

"Y...y... you w...w...want to come in?!" He ask in surprise.

"Only if you want me to Edward. If not, I will just leave these cookies here, and whoever wants them can have them." she says with a smile.

"N... N... No you no coming in.." His voice begins to fill with anger. "No never let anyone in, Never let anyone in." He begins to repeat over and over.

"It's okay Edward, I understand, I have my fears too." She says, she stands but leaves the cookies by the door. "I'll leave these here, and you can get them when you want. Okay?"

"Y... y... yess please go now, go now... no more talk." Edward says.

She smiles, and walks back into her apartment and shuts the door. She turns around and watches from her peep hole, the door opens a crack, then closes, opens a crack again and closes. She smiles and just watches, this poor man going through this ritual. She can't think of what it must be like to live in his world, but there is a feeling in her, that she is supposed to be here to help him, or be in his world. Finally after what seems like forever the door opens and she sees him, holding his cat tightly to him, watching him whisper to her, she tries to hard not to say "awww" but she can't help it.

Edward looks up, directly into her peep hole. She pulls back and gasps, He keeps looking. Did he hear me she thinks, She leans in to look again. She jumps but catches the scream in her throat as she realizes she is looking directly into his eye trying to see in. She holds back the laughter, watching this man, this man who seems to fear the world around him, look into her peep hole as tho he really sees something, then turn around grab the plate of cookies and slam the door behind him. She opens and listens as he starts the process of locking his door again.

He finishes locking the door and leans against it, his heart feels as tho its about to jump into his eye balls. She is out to get me I know it, he thinks to himself. He sniffs the plate of cookies, takes them over to the kitchen table and pulls the wrap off them. He puts Paddy down on the table too, she goes over to investigate the plate of cookies. She sniffs and sniffs, gives them a lick or two, and then like most cats, just losses interest in them. She lays down on the table and starts to lick a paw and rub her ear. Edward kneels down inspecting the plate and talking to Paddy.

"She is trying to poison me isn't she, Paddy?" He asks. The cat looks up and then goes right back to grooming. "Why would she, How could she know, I even liked cookies? She's hacked my brain hasn't she, Paddy?"

"Meoow" Paddy says.

"No no that can't be it, why would she try to do that. There would be no gain for her. What is she after, my books?" Edward ponders, walking over to the refrigerator, reaching for the gallon of milk and finding the small brown vile of LCD still in the door. "Oooh. I forgot I left this in here." He picks up the vile, unscrews the dropper, tilting his head back and squeezes two drops one in each eye. "We are gonna have some fun tonight," He says to Paddy. "Yes we are!" He sets the milk down and pours a glass, pouring it to the top and begins to eat them without fear. Paddy jumps down and goes off to her own lil world.

Edward sits there eating the cookies, still talking with himself, pacing back and forth, trying to figure out what the girl next store is after.



Sand Waif



Living right by the ocean has it's rewards. I guess some would say I am one of the lucky ones, because very few people can live like I do.

My Dad was smart enough to invest in some property at the coast, many times as my two sisters and I were growing up he would take us all down there. We would camp out on the beach, play in the cool water, search the sands for treasures offered up by the sea.

I especially liked the days following storms, the walk along the half mile of sand we owned could result in finding just about anything.

By the time I was in my 30's, the government passed some laws and we no longer owned the sand, anybody who wanted could come down and enjoy it. Dad had never said otherwise, anyway, so it didn't matter. Besides, the place was remote enough few used it, preferring the busier resort areas several miles up the coast.

But he also understood about government, so he built the house up on the bank before they could pass any laws forbidding that. He set it far enough back that it was hard to see from the beach.

"Views go both ways, son." He told me.

Now in my sixties, I appreciated my Dad's wisdom. I inherited the house, giving up the stock funds and savings and the house in the city to my sisters to fight over. It was quite a bit, my Dad was a saver all his life.

In dollars, my sisters ended up way ahead of me. I always thought that even at that, I got the best of the deal.

I sold my own home in town, no need to keep it with my Martha gone. We had almost 40 good years. There were no children, we weren't blessed in that fashion, but we were as close as two people can be.

That one morning I woke up, Martha didn't. It was just like that, blessed again with no illness. It was like someone turned off a switch and I was all alone.

I moved to the house at the beach. The bills were few there. Enough acreage to supply firewood, a spring ran out of the cliff behind into a tank, there was a small garden that produced food well. A surprise since it was so close to the sea, but it was protected by the point on the North side from the harshest of winds. A few tons of compost really helped, too.

So I did my walks, beachcombing. I tended my garden. Once or twice a month I made the trip into town for odds and ends, my stipend from the government always managed to stretch enough to cover my small needs.

One day I walked down the path to the beach, crossed the soft dry sand to where it was still damp and firm. The storm just a few days earlier had rattled the windows of my little house, so I took my metal detector along.

I spotted a young woman down the beach, it was quite a distance. She was ambling along, picking up odds and ends. She was carrying a small satchel. Then she took out what looked like a piece of canvas, lay it on the sand and sat down.

I smiled, it was a bit rare to see anyone at all on my walks, even though the beach was now free access to anyone who cared to use it.

I just busied myself with the screen on my detector, moving along finding a bottle cap or poptop, or a rare coin. I always placed everything I found in my ditty bag, I liked to keep the sand clean.

As I got closer to where the woman was, I noticed she picked up the piece of canvas and wrapped it around herself. I really didn't pay a lot of attention to her.

I got closer, enough to say hello.

"Hello. I didn't expect to see anyone way out here." She smiled, it was like the Sun came out.

"I live in the house." I told her, pointing.

She squinted that direction, finally making out the very tip of the roofline.

"I didn't even know a house was there."

"Few do." I told her. I looked at her more closely, she couldn't have been more than twenty, maybe twenty-five.

"I come out to sunbathe sometimes." she offered.

"To warm myself."

I just nodded, her comment seemed a little odd. Just then I got signal from my equipment. I squatted down, sifted the sand with my screening tool, came up with a dark quarter. I wiped it off and read the date, 1975. Just a quarter, I started to drop it into my pouch.

"What did you find?" she asked, interested now.

"Only a quarter."

"Really? You find money? Just laying there?" She rolled over to her knees, clutching the cover to herself.

It hit me that she was naked underneath as the material dropped and bared most of the top of one breast.

She spotted my gaze, grinned.

"I wasn't wearing a suit." she explained.

"Oh. No problem, there is no one around."

"You are around." she showed dazzling teeth as her head tipped back with a laugh.

"I am just an old man," I told her. "I will go on down the beach and let you be."

"It's all right. Do you mind if I...?"

She didn't wait for an answer, just slipped the cover off and lay it on the sand. I noticed the cover when she did that, it seemed to be..maybe a skin of some kind, perhaps plastic?

The sudden full nudity surprised me, I must have stared for a moment. Her breasts were small but firm and high, her stomach was flat as it is possible to be. The tuft of pubic hair between her legs was untrimmed at the sides and full. I am sure I stared, startled.

She looked up, caught my eye, smiled.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare...."

"It's all right, I don't mind. I just don't like crowds. Plus the young guys are always..you know." She tossed her hair, gave off a soft giggle.

Well, I guess I did know, I was suddenly feeling a bit young myself.

"Want some water?" she asked.

She turned to reach for the small sachel beside her, lifting one side of her behind off the sand as she stretched out. A bit of pink came into view, then more. I saw the sand stuck to her skin, I knew she had to realize she was flashing her loins at me. 

I felt my breath catch, I felt a stirring as my body reacted. It had been a very long time since I saw a nude female, even in pictures.

She turned back, handed me a bottle of water. I took it, watched as she tipped her head back and drank. I was sure she arched her back, showing off the lines of her breasts nicely.

I took a sip, it was cool but slightly...salty?

Old man be damned, my mind went blank for a moment at the vision before me. Then blushing, I turned away, started moving on down the beach. I glanced back a few times, she was stretched out on her back. The sunlight seemed to make her milk chocolate colored skin shine, the long dark hair actually flashed in the light. Her arms and legs seemed...longer than normal for her body?

I looked at the muscles of her arms, her legs. They looked strong, powerful. The fact that she must work out popped into my head.

"That is one beautiful young lady!" I thought to myself.

Then I managed to shake off the more lecherous thoughts that slipped into my head. It had been so many years since I had been with my Martha, so many years since I had even seen a woman's full beauty.

I spent a solid hour working down the beach, not really finding much. I seldom did, but it was fun to do and a person never knows. I noticed as I headed back that she was still there. As I got closer I called out to let her know I was coming back by.

She rolled over on her side, propped up on one elbow and watched me hunt. I got a strong signal when I was about 50 feet away, this one was deep. I got my tiny folding shovel out of my pack, began to dig, checking each shovelful of sand with the detector to make sure whatever I was reading wasn't in it.

I was down a good foot when she hopped up and came over to me.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Not sure, the reading is heavy and it is deep."

"Maybe a gold coin, or jewelry?" 

"Maybe gold, I found one coin out here a couple of years ago."

"Oh, neat!" She exclaimed, then she squatted right down by the hole I was digging, looking inside.

Her knees were apart, she was sitting on the balls of her feet not 2 feet from me. I almost dropped the shovel.

"Oops!" she giggled. "Sorry." That smile lit her face again as she closed her legs slightly.

That really didn't help a hell of lot.

I turned my attention back to my digging, then I rescanned the hole. It was still in there, close now so I took my probe and gently poked the sand. I felt the tip touch something hard, probed sideways to find the edge.

One twist of the wrist and a gold colored chain appeared, I lifted it out and brushed the grains of sand from it.

"Oh, my! That is beautiful!" she gasped.

Yes, it was. A solid gold chain, at the base hung a small pendent, a green stone I knew was Jade. It was dainty, feminine.

I saw her looking at it, excited. I don't know why I did it, but I handed it to her. It just seemed fitting somehow.

"Here. This is for you. A pretty thing for a pretty lady."

She looked at me, her eyes blinked. She smiled, reached out and took the necklace, slipped it over her head.

I looked at her, it hung to just above her bare breasts, the flash of color only real Gold can have set off perfectly against her skin.

She stepped forward, hugged me, kissed my cheek.

"Thank you! She reached down, lifted the stone, smiled.

What the hell, It was worth it just for her smile.

"I have to go. I will come back to here, see you again?"

I just nodded.

She turned and ran back to where her sachel lay, pulled the strap over her head. I noticed it lay tight to her body. Then she ran towards the water, dove in. Her strokes were strong, powerful. She crested the second breakers, gave a wave of her arm and.....vanished.

I stood there in shock. Then I was running, into the water, shouting.

"Hey! Hey! Wait!"

I dove, reaching this way and that, trying to find her, I felt nothing, finally exhausted, I managed to crawl back up the beach.

I looked everywhere for a sign, for her head to be bobbing in the surf. There was nothing.

I sat there on the sand for a long time, my mind in turmoil. Why would she do that, why?

Then I looked down, saw the footprints where her feet had dug into the sand as she ran. They looked strange, I had seen many footprints over the years.

I looked closer, the area between her toes was bunched. 

Those weren't toes.

They had to be webbed.

It hit me what I had just seen.

I gathered my gear, headed back to my simple home.

I had a feeling I would see her again.