Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Sex on the Beach

I wrote this story a few years ago.
I'm not normally a story writer and as I read back over it, I see things I want to change. But that's for another time. Right now I just want to share it. Small warning that there is a tiny bit of adult stuff.

“Why are you up so late?” he asked.
“Can’t sleep.” She lied.
Little did her father know she was waiting to go out. Hoping that he would turn in soon, she sat seemingly engrossed in the show on television. But her thoughts were on her plans. She was sneaking out to meet Steve.
Steve was older. He was older by at least 7 years. To her, he was a real man.
They had flirted endlessly. Stolen glances when no one was looking, sly innuendos that only they understood. They had met at her boyfriend’s house. She wanted adventure, excitement, but boyfriend was boring. However, Steve… She thought Steve was everything. He spoke of his frequent trips to NYC, he wrote movies, he seemed so worldly. His band played out. Her boyfriend only ever played in the basement. Steve was going to take her places… or at least she that is what she thought.
Finally her father went to bed. She quietly picked up the phone and called Steve. He was on his way.
“Where are we going?” She asked when she got in his car a block from her house.
“Down the shore, maybe Belmar.”
Only in NJ do they call it the shore. Not the beach, not the ocean… but the shore.
The only part of the shore she had ever been to was Seaside Heights where her grandparents lived. She had never been to Belmar. He was already starting to take her new places!
Cruising down the parkway, she felt his hand on her thigh. She was not inexperienced… She knew what he wanted. And she was more then willing to give it to him. He brought her to orgasm with his right hand while controlling the car with his left. It had never felt so good. When the waves of pleasure overcame her she thought she was going to push the windshield out with her feet!
He flew by exit 98. “I thought you said we were going to Belmar.”
“I changed my mind,” he said “I want someplace more private so we can be alone.”
As exit 82 approached, he slowed the car. Great, she thought disappointed, Seaside Heights. She was not happy. She’d seen Seaside, she wanted something new and exciting, not the usual.
She crossed her arms and pouted, the way only a Jersey Girl knows how to do.
Seaside?” she said, quite annoyed.
“Relax,” he said “I’m going to take you someplace special, somewhere you’ll never forget.”
A smile played at her lips as her arms relaxed.
They drove past the dying lights of the boardwalk. It was late, the boardwalk hawkers were closing up shop and drunks were staggering their way to their cars. She watched the streets go by, mindlessly saying their names. She knew the island like the back of her hand. As a child she played on those streets making summer friends she swore she’d never forget. She looked to him as they passed 23rd Street.
“Are we going to Island Beach?”
He silently smiled.
Island Beach State Park was the jewel of New Jersey. It was 11 miles of untouched coast line. The person who gave it to the state stipulated in their will that it is to never be built on.
They parked on 24th street and got out of the car. It was late, so they couldn’t drive into the park.
“We walk from here” he said.
Excited about sneaking onto the island, she did not complain.
They walked through the sea grass and over the dunes. Little animals scurried by, annoyed at their intrusion. It felt like they walked forever. He had a backpack that she assumed contained a blanket and other items for a romantic night on the beach.
Finally he stopped walking.
Exhausted from the walk (and the adventure in the car) she dropped to the sand and relaxed. There was almost no moon. She sat up and watched the waves crash on the beach. It was so dark you could barely see the white heads as they engulfed the sand. How romantic, she thought. The beach was her favorite place. She knew her boyfriend would never do something as romantic as this.
While she was deep in thought of dumping her boyfriend for Steve, he laid the blanket out on the cool sand.
“Come here” he said, patting the blanket next to him.
Happily she got up and joined him on the blanket.
He took her in his arms and they made love. At least she thought it was love. But she was just a teenager, and gave love away too freely.
She looked in his eyes as he came. There was something there, some thing she had never seen before. What was hiding behind those dark eyes?
When he was spent, he rolled over. She laid on her back searching for the small sliver of moon that played gently on the water as he searched around in his backpack. The smell of sex and salt mingling around her.
Her thoughts returned to her boyfriend. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. He never looked at her like that. He looked at her with love. He hugged and kissed her after making love. He seemed ever so grateful to be in her life.
She never saw it coming. The hammer he had stashed in his backpack was the last thing that went through her mind.
He carried her into the ocean, letting the waves wash the blood from his naked body. He stood for a moment after letting her body go. Watching her lifeless form float out to sea.
The next day her body washed up on the shore. No one could explain how she got down there. Her parents thought she was in bed all night.
A week went by. Her funeral was very somber, as it usually is when a child dies. Devastated, her boyfriend called his friends. He had been interrogated over and over again by the police. He needed to go out and get his mind off of things.
They all piled in Steve’s car. Her boyfriend sat in the very same seat that she sat in the week before. He looked up at the windshield.
“Footprints?” said the boyfriend smiling. “I guess you had a hot time lately.”
“A hot time,” he said with a wicked grin, “a very hot time.”

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