Static broke the silence as Jillian turned the dial on the old radio. Manipulating the antennae with her left hand, she slowly moved the red marker on the numbered strip until it stopped precariously between 98.7 and 99.
"Beach Baby Beach Baby give me your hand..." blared from the speakers and Jillian smiled. Gingerly, she released her hold on the antennae. The bouncing lyrics faded momentarily before streaming out louder than before as the connections on the FM tuner made solid contact.
Jillian turned to survey her location. Lounge chair positioned to the southwest, allowing maximum sun exposure, end table with a stack of trashy magazines, frosty cold lemonade and a bottle of Coppertone within easy reach. She smiled at the pleasant vignette. Jay had been right after all.
Renting a beach house had sounded like a tremendous extravagance last March when Jay made the suggestion. Splitting the cost and the weekends with the Parkers, Allison and Bill, a couple she and Jay knew from work turned the idea into a reality.
Jay had found the house through an on-line rental agency. The house, a two bedroom cottage on the gulf coast was a short four hour drive from their home in Alabama. The kitchen was small, the bathrooms old and in need of a make-over but the house boasted it's own private segment of beach and a small swimming pool directly off the patio. Jillian or Jilly as she preferred to be called had spent many pleasant hours on the patio, with Jay, her husband of two years. They listened to the waves and sipped rum drinks, savoring the lazy warmth of a carefree summer.
Now it was Labor Day weekend. Both couples were down for a final house party, the first weekend they had spent together all summer. Jillian enjoyed Allison's company and Bill was a riot but this afternoon she wanted to be alone.
Tiny waves expanded outward as Jilly dipped her toes in the swimming pool. The water shimmered crystal clear and sent a tingle up her spine in that cold swimming pool water way. She imagined the icy water washing over her heat dampened skin. Closing her eyes, the thought became a shiver of sensation over her entire body. Unable to restrain herself a moment longer, she dove in; the water feeling even colder as her sun warmed body became submerged.
She gracefully stroked her way to the opposite end of the pool surfacing in a flurry of water droplets as she shook blonde hair out of her face. Stretching out her arms to support herself on the ledge, she allowed her long tan legs to float unsupported. Pointing her toes, Jilly began to recreate a swim routine she had once watched in an old black and white movie. In her head, she was one of the Hollywood beauties kicking and splashing in an elaborate pattern. Her red polished toes played peek-a-boo with the surface of the water and caressed her calves as she drew first one leg up and out and then the other.
The dancing pattern became more complicated, little hip twists replaced with full rotation. The big finish, an arching back and chest shimmy, were ruined when Jillian lost her grip on the ledge dunking herself back under the water. Laughter mixed with many sputtered thanks to her imaginary audience ended the program. Pushing off from the bottom of the pool she swam to the ladder.
Grabbing a towel and dabbing the moisture from her skin Jillian stopped and readjusted the red boy-cut brief over her rounded backside. An over the shoulder assessment followed.
"Hmm, nice ass," she thought, pleased. Those painful, boring hours on the elliptical had paid off. Next she bent forward and gave her breasts a shake, gently grasping each and maneuvering the soft flesh into the halter top of the red swim suit in such a way to bring her nipples forward. Feeling playful, she gave her left nipple a pinch. A different sort of tingle swiftly moved through her body.
Paul McCartney, radio waves proving his fountain of youth, crooned "My Love". The gentle lyrics floated through the air and Jillian smiled as the tingle swept over her again. What was it about chlorine, cocoa butter and silly bubble gum pop songs that turned her on? Too bad Jay was out for his afternoon run.
"Jilly, are you out there?" Allison's voice broke her reverie.
"No, I'm not here, go away," Jilly whispered under her breath. Out loud she answered back, "Yeah, I'm catching up on some me time, OK?"
Allison poked her head around the sliding glass door, "Sure, after that amazing breakfast you prepared, you take all the time you need."
Both women broke into rib splitting laugh. Jilly was good at a lot of things but cooking had never been one of them. Breakfast today had consisted of biscuits, popped from a tube. The really hard part was scraping the burnt areas off the bottoms.
"I'm going to the store and picking Bill up at the golf course. He had to get one more round in before that Texas guy leaves tomorrow. Maybe he'll win again and we can pay for dinner tonight at the ClamShell." Bill was a moderately good golfer that did not look the part. He delighted in suckering unsuspecting players and winning big.
"Have fun at the store, I left some money on the counter," and with a final wave, Jillian turned and stretched her still damp body out on the lounge chair.
The sun beat down with equatorial intensity and Jillian worshipped its power. Laying the lounger back she paid homage to the warming rays as her pool dampened skin quickly dried, the pool water replaced by a fine shimmer of perspiration. The red bikini dried rapidly as well and Jilly considered the implications of removing the suit altogether.
No one was home, or would be within the next hour. The neighbor's view of the backyard was limited by a privacy fence. The house sat far enough back from the beach that her lounger was difficult for passing beachcombers to see. She sat up and looked around. There was no sound save for the crashing waves and the crooning radio.
Gingerly, Jillian reached behind her back and untied the lower strings. The fabric fell away from her sides, allowing the warm summer air to caress the sides of her breasts. Looking around again, Jilly smiled. She had never actually sunbathed nude and technically, topless wasn't really naked.
Justification in place, Jilly untied the top strings of the red halter and tossed the fabric to the ground. Her plump, rounded breasts, no longer confined by the swimsuit top, relaxed and welcomed the warm sun's rays. No fool to practicality, Jilly grabbed the Coppertone and squeezed out a generous amount. The lotion was much colder on her warm skin than she had anticipated and she giggled with surprise as she spread a thin layer on her tender skin. Cupping each breast with her hand, she massaged gently, saving the nipple for last and again giving each a tiny pinch.
The tingle was a little stronger this time, without the swimsuit fabric to act as a barrier. Jilly tensed her thighs together and felt the pulsation intensify briefly. She considered letting her fingers slide down her abdomen and touch the place she knew would make the feeling last but propriety and the squeal of a swimmer out in the ocean brought her back to reality.
