The slow, regular rhythm of the waves breaking against the sandy beach soothed her soul. She let her mind go slack. The sound and motion of the waves mesmerized her. The sun was warm on her skin and the breeze off the ocean licked at her, providing just the right amount of cooling.
Shannon sat in the tidewater facing the sea, letting each wave wash over her splayed legs, push against her groin and belly, sometimes floating her and moving her a few inches up the beach. She let just enough of her consciousness leak into her arms to raise her hands from the sand when a wave broke over her knees. It was a friendly game of 'push me' she was playing with the sea. She watched the foamy, sand-filled water slap at her bare abdomen above the top of her bikini bottom. Shannon was a pretty woman with close cropped brown hair, small even facial features that caused men to gaze at her and a finely turned body that went well in anything from a bikini to a business suit.
Eighty meters from shore the 22-foot trihull with separate fore and aft bimini tops bucked and yawed at anchor. The aft bimini was up -- shade for the occupants of the boat though at the moment there were none. The forward bimini was furled about its bows and neatly cased in its zippered cover of the same royal blue canvas.
Her reverie was slightly infiltrated by another consciousness. It grew steadily stronger. Soon the intensity enveloped her and she knew she could not resist the force that tugged at every cell of her being. He stood a few feet to her left, his hazel eyes assessing and caressing every inch of her. She was not offended or embarrassed when his eyes rested on the firm roundness of her breasts, barely concealed by the brief bikini top. Shamelessly, she rounded her shoulders to give him a better view. He smiled. Though his lips never moved and the words did not come to her via her ears, she heard him say, "Come with me."
He moved into the water, wading up to his chest and launched himself toward the pitching boat. Clearly he was a good swimmer as his arms and shoulders settled into the task, the sea boiling about his feet as his flutter kick helped to propel him.
She followed.
The stern of the boat was pitching wildly. Watching carefully she saw him time his approach to the transom, position his legs and feet so the boarding platform would rise under him. With ease he caught the step and was lifted up and stepped aboard.
She did the same thing and found herself standing in the cockpit only a few inches from him. He had already shucked his suit and was naked in the bright shade of the aft bimini top. There were no spoken words. It was a mind to mind connection, as if the thought flowed through their eyes. First her top and then the brief bottom, she peeled away her concealment and stood bare and proud before him.