The Hidden Cove

*If you're looking for a quick read, you might want to try another contest offering. This is one of those stories where, because you're not sure where it's going when you sit down to write, it meanders before coming back to a satisfying conclusion.

In the newspaper business, some us would call it an epic as it features a lot of words. Hell, in a newspaper, it'd be a multi-part series. But if you're patient, and not in a hurry, read along and I hope you enjoy how it all turns out.

This one's practically a novella.

*

It was late in the day, but Clayton Bean was sweating heavily as he made his way up the steep and seldom-travelled Cliff Trail.

It was the first day of the holiday and he was going to take full advantage of it. With only a couple of weeks of freedom before he started some college courses, and with a job working late shifts at the Red Dog Bar in place, Clay planned to make the most of his days.

Take today, for example. He was going to study photography after the holiday break and instructors at the college wanted to see photos that were much more than just mom and pop shots, or landscapes from the neighbourhood. And so Clayton had set himself a goal of getting some outstanding photos of the whales that called the waters around his island home.

It was a little early in the season to be spotting whales, but after lunch, Clayton had stuffed food and some small binoculars in a pack and had decided to head up Cliff Trail. The top of the trail, he knew, was an ideal spot to see whales sounding offshore. Once he knew they were in the area, he'd try and identify a location where they were spending time and then try and talk the old man into letting him use the boat to get on the water and get photos that would result in work that stood out from other students.

Clay was pretty sure other students in his classes wouldn't be able to match photos of porpoises and whales in their natural setting -- if he could find them and capture their images digitally. He thought he might as well take advantage of what his island had to offer.

Three quarters of the way up the steep trail, he stopped to have a drink of water and he stuffed his t-shirt into a side pocket on his pack. Might as well catch the last few rays of sun while he was out, he thought.

Hefting his pack again, he made his way to the top of the trail. The sun was starting its descent for the evening, gulls squawked as they rode the updrafts and out to sea, swells made their way into shore.

A short while later, at the top, he sat on a rock and pulled the binoculars out of his pack. With the warm setting sun at his back, he began scanning the surface, hoping to catch sight of whales fairly close to shore. Carefully, he swept the binoculars back and forth across the water, hoping to catch sight of the large mammals, or blasts into the air as they surfaced to breath.

After long minutes intently studying the surface, Clay was about to give up. He hadn't spotted anything and it looked like he'd have to keep watch again the next day. In the distance, though, he spotted a sailboat approaching from the east. Its white hull and sail caught the late sun, turning them a warm, golden hue.

Having given up on spotting whales that evening, he focused on the sailboat as it made its way slowly inshore. It appeared there was just one person on deck, at the wheel, steering toward the tiny cove below Clay's lookout. As the boat neared, Clay could see a bare chested, bearded man sitting with his feet up in the cockpit, a light hand on the wheel and one holding a beer. The man appeared to be wearing, and he squinted as tried to make it out, a Santa hat of all things...

As the boat continued toward shore, Clay reached into his pack for a sandwich and Coke, then went back to watching the sailboat. Man, he whispered to himself, she's a beauty, the kind of boat he dreamed of owning some day. Then it'd be just him and the sea, man, as he sailed around on freelance photography assignments to ports around the world.

With his binoculars in one hand, he munched on his ham and cheese, which he held in the other. Below, he watched as the boat lost its way in the lee of the island, the sail stilling and the hull slowing further. As he watched, the man at the wheel got up and made his forward. Clay noticed that, besides the Santa hat, the man was buck naked. He chuckled to himself as the guy made his way to the bow and hoisted the anchor overboard.

The anchor splashed into the clear water of the tiny cove and the man made his way back to the mast, where he lowered the sail and squared everything away. The boat was directly below him and had stopped close to shore, swinging on the anchor line to present the stern and her name, the Jo Joe.

As Clay watched, the naked guy walked to the stern, cock hanging freely and no tan lines in sight. He must do that all the time, Clay thought to himself. Nice. The guy had a bit of a gut on him, some grey in his beard and his cock hung out of dark patch of pubic hair.

At the stern, the man dumped some charcoal into a barbecue on a stand and bent to pick up a bottle. He sprayed fluid generously over the charcoal, then reached inside the door to the cabin. Stepping back to the barbecue, the man struck a match and tossed it in. The fluid ignited brightly and Clay heard a swoosh of it starting. He chuckled. "Look out, old man, don't want to burn off anything important."

The guy sat back and picked up his beer, drinking it as the coals burned. Clay finished his sandwich and sipped his Coke. Still watching, the guy sat in the cockpit with his beer and called to someone below. Clay watched as a woman stepped out of the cabin below with a tray of food.

As she stepped from the cabin door into the cockpit, Clay first noticed she had on a headband thing with goofy reindeer antlers sticking out. Then he noticed she was also naked, except for a red, white and green scarf. He set down his Coke to steady the binoculars with both hands. As he kept his view on the cockpit, he noticed the scarf hung between her large breasts. She had shoulder-length, mostly grey hair and, when she turned to offer the guy another beer, he saw she had a dark patch of pubic hair.

"Not too bad," he mumbled as he watched them. Her body wasn't awesome like the porn babes he liked to watch on his computer, but big tits and no tan line either... The guy stood up and took a beer from her. He took the tray from her with his other hand and set them both by the barbecue. He turned back to her and, grabbing her scarf, pulled her close and kissed her.

As Clay watched, they kissed and stood close to each other. The guy ran his hands over her back and grabbed her ass in his hands, pulling her really tight to him. She wrapped her arms around him and they kissed for a long time. When they pulled apart, Clay could see the guy had a hard-on now. He bent down and picked something off the tray and tossed it on the barbecue. The woman bent down to pick up a beer and Clay had a good view of her ass as she did so.

She stood up and sipped her beer, stepping over to where the guy had picked up tongs to turn whatever it was he had on the barbecue. She bent to pick up his beer, another view of her ass, and handed it to him. Now the guy had tongs in one hand and a beer in the other and she stood close to him, sipping her beer.

As Clay watched he couldn't believe it; she took his cock in her hand and started stroking him. She had her beer in one hand, and his cock in the other, slowly stroking as he worked the barbecue.

They were talking as she stroked him. "Son of a bitch," muttered Clay. He'd never seen anything like it in real life. As he watched through the binoculars, his own cock stiffened in his shorts. The guy cooked as she stroked his cock and they both sipped beer and laughed about something. "Wow."

After another few minutes, she let go of the guy's cock and sat down in the cockpit on a cushion. The guy took off whatever he was cooking, looked like shrimp skewers, Clay thought, but the light was getting dim. He sat beside the woman and they started eating and drinking their beer. Whatever they were eating, they were dipping it in something. The woman must have dripped some, because as Clay watched, the guy bent over and licked something off one of her breasts.

Clay was now real hard in his shorts. He kept watching them as the sun set and the scene darkened as the island threw shadow over the cove.

"Damn," he muttered. It was getting too dark to see anything. He could hear them laughing, especially the woman when she laughed, but he could barely see them now. He was about to put the binoculars back in his pack when suddenly, lights all over the boat's rigging went on. They'd put hundreds of LED Christmas lights all over and the whole boat was now alight with red, white and green lights.

Clay picked up the binoculars again and looked once more at the cockpit. The guy had just stepped from the cabin below again, must have turned on the lights down there. He stood in the cabin doorway, arms on the roof, and looked up at the lights. The woman stood up and cheered and clapped her hands as she looked at them. She went to the barbecue and dumped the coals into the water, where they died out with a hiss and a plume of steam.

With the Christmas lights on, Clay could see them again, although they looked green and red now. She stood across the cockpit from the guy; he still stood in the doorway to the cabin below. As Clay watched her, she took one end of the scarf in each hand and began moving it up and down, sliding it over her nipples and breasts as she looked at the guy.

The guy watched as she moved the scarf on her tits and put a leg up on the cockpit seat, spreading her legs. Oh yeah, thought Clay as he watched her intently. This was good. Looking at the guy again, he could see his cock sticking out as he watched the woman. Who's wouldn't be? he thought.

She stepped close to the guy, kissed him and ran her hands over his chest. She kept kissing him as she ran her hands down his body and took the guy's cock in her hand again. This time, she stroked him and cupped his balls as Clay watched.

Breaking the kiss from his lips, she kissed his neck, then his chest and then, as she moved onto to her knees, kissed her way down his stomach. As Clay watched, feeling some pre-cum oozing from his own cock, she kissed the tip of the guy's cock. With a hand on each of the guy's thighs, Clay watched as she took his head into her mouth. "Holy shit," he muttered.

He kept watching as the woman slid her mouth over the guy's cock, bobbing her head as she moved up and down his shaft. Clay stood up, unzipped and pulled his shorts and boxers down. He sat back down on his rock and, with the binoculars in one hand, started stroking himself as he watched her.

Suddenly, though, she pulled her mouth off him. She stood up, kissed him and said something. Then, as Clay stroked himself, they went below to the boat's cabin. Suddenly, everything was dark as all the Christmas lights were turned off. Clay noticed a cabin light come on, though, then the cabin door closed.

Clay put down the binoculars. Guess I better take off, he thought. He put the binoculars in his pack, guzzled down the Coke and shoved everything else in the pack. Then he stood up and, thinking of the woman with the guy's cock in her mouth, stroked himself until he came on the grass that grew around the rock.

It was pretty dark now, he thought, but as he hefted his pack, he realized he had enough moonlight to make his way back down the trail.

For a couple of days, Clay was busy with sleeping in and getting used to working the 5 p.m. to 1 a.m. shift at the Red Dog Bar. He did some serving, tended bar (good tips), checked out the hot women who were visiting the island for the holidays and cleaned up at close.

A couple of times, his girlfriend Jenny dropped by to chat with him while he worked. Dressed in the tight white shorts he liked, Jenny was just as hot as the women who were visiting.

He'd been up on the Cliff Trail a couple of times in the late morning; on one day the Jo Joe wasn't anchored in the cove, while on another, Josephine and Joe, as he decided their names were, had spent the day swimming and sunning on deck. They were naked the whole time Clay watched them, but nothing had happened, fuck-wise. He was a little disappointed.

A couple of days after that, though, he climbed Cliff Trail in the rain. He had glimpsed the Jo Joe on his way up the trail, but, with warm rain falling heavily, he didn't expect to see much action. He was soaked when he got to the top, but found a tree he could shelter under. Through the heavy rain he could see that Josephine and Joe were on deck, but he couldn't see what they were doing.

Under the tree, he decided not too much was falling on him, so he dug out his binoculars. He focused on the stern of the Jo Joe, which was facing him and a little closer in shore than before, and noticed she was registered in Halifax, Canada. Josephine and Joe were Canadians who must have escaped the cold weather up there, Clay decided. Good call.

Although it was raining, it was bright out and with the binoculars, Clay could see the two of them. This time, Josephine was wearing the Santa hat -- and nothing else -- while Joe was naked except for some kind of hat with reindeer antlers on it. Josephine's ass was on the edge of the roof of the cabin above the door and she was leaning back on her elbows, while Joe was standing in the doorway. Joe's back and bare ass faced Clay, but his head was buried between Josephine's legs.

As Clay watched, Joe was clearly busy with Josephine's pussy. It looked like he was licking her as she looked up and let the warm rain pour down on her body. "Nice," he muttered as he watched. Josephine had a foot on each of Joe's shoulders and was spread wide. Clay watched as Joe kept his head between her legs, but he was disappointed that Joe's head actually blocked his view. Every now and then, though, Joe would stop licking Josephine's pussy to kiss her thighs and Clay had a glimpse of her pubic hair once again. Covered by the rain, her body had a sheen to it.

Standing under his tree and leaning back against it, Clay's cock was hard in his shorts again as he watched Joe enjoy Josephine's pussy. The lucky bastard, he thought, and wondered if Jenny would let him do that. He and Jenny had had sex, but it had been in the dark and was a little on the clumsy side as would be expected of young people relatively new to lovemaking.

As he watched, Joe raised his head and it looked like he was talking to Josephine. She laughed, then reached with a hand to grab an antler on Joe's hat and pull him back to her pussy. Joe went back to work as she kept her grip on the antler and turned her face to the rain again.

Clay decided to unzip and give his cock more room.

After a few more moments, Clay was going to put the binoculars down so he could stroke himself better, but just then Josephine let go of Joe's antler and pushed him back with her feet. She sat up on the edge of the cabin and Joe put his arms around her and started sucking on her nipples.

Clay stroked with one hand while holding his binoculars with the other. "Damn"

Josephine held him by the antlers as Joe sucked and Clay could see him burying his head between her large breasts. Again, he head was back as she let the rain run down her face. Clay could she had a big smile on her face and he smiled too as he stroked himself. He couldn't see Joe's mouth because it was either full of nipple or nuzzling between her breasts.

"God damn old folks," said Clay to himself. "They sure know how to have a good time. No wonder they're not up in Canada where it's snowing... couldn't do this good stuff there at Christmas time."

Clay kept stroking as Josephine pushed Joe's head back and bent to kiss him long and slow. He just knew they were tonguing and it made him harder still.

Then Josephine pushed Joe back and hopped down off the cabin roof. She took Joe by the hand and led him back to the boat's large wheel. She stepped behind him and pushed him front first against the wheel. Joe grabbed the wheel and leaned up against it, which pushed his cock between a couple of the spokes. Josephine then moved to the other side of the wheel and squatted in front of him.

Clay saw her smile up at Joe, then she closed her mouth over his cock and took him in. Clay came again, spurting on the grass under the tree. With his cock dripping cum, Clay went back to watching the pair on the boat, both hands holding the binoculars. Joe's gut was pressing through the spokes a bit and his hands were wide on the wheel as he looked down at Josephine.

"Damn that old fucker," Clay muttered again. "Fuckin' old guy with a beer gut and he's getting a blow job like that... Shit..."

He watched for another couple of minutes, until Josephine pulled off Joe's member. He saw her wipe her mouth and look up at Joe. "And she swallows? God damn..."

Josephine stood, Joe walked around from the wheel, and they went below again, leaving Clay to wonder if they went to a berth to fuck. He also couldn't help wondering how long it took Joe to be ready again; or did he take his turn by eating her out on a nice, comfy bed? He looked at his watch and realized it was time to head back to town and get to the Red Dog.

Later that night, Clay was behind the bar. It was a Wednesday and it was a slow night. Really slow. He'd mixed a few cocktails, poured a few beers, checked out a couple of babes who were trolling for guys and listened to tunes on stereo behind the bar, where he could control it.

He was bending down behind the bar to put in a new batch of CDs, when he heard, "Hey stranger."

Jenny had dropped by the bar. "... haven't seen you for days," she said. "I went by your house the other day and your mom said you've been up Cliff Trail getting photos before you go to school. Get anything good?"

Jenny was wearing a cute red Santa hat over her dark hair and Clay couldn't help but blush a bit as images of the action on the Jo Joe flooded into his brain. "Oh, hey babe. Yeah, scouting for whales, trying to find a good spot I could maybe take dad's boat out to get some porpoise shots... you know. I've been a little busy," he lied.

Jenny bent over the bar to kiss him. "Well, I've missed you. I knew it would suck with you working evenings and me days. I've hardly seen you for the whole Christmas break."

Jenny worked at the hospital between years of studying nursing. She thought getting day shifts would work out better for the two of them than the summer before, where she worked evenings and Clay worked days at a marine supply shop.

"I know babe," he said, as she gave him that pout he liked so much. "But I'm making more money at this job, with tips and all." He didn't mention the side benefits of watching rich hotties and cougars work the bar while vacationing. "But you're off this weekend, right, and so am I. We'll spend the weekend at the beach."

"I'd like that," she said, as she watched him at the beer tap. He was wearing one of the sleeveless shirts she liked to see him in... and the cutoff jeans and sandals. He looked like a typical island beach bum, she thought. Bleached blonde hair, good muscles, nice tan, great smile. She sighed. Oh well, at least he was her beach bum. And speaking of bum, she thought as she bent over the bar a bit to watch as he crouched down to get a bag of pretzels from a bottom shelf... Nice, no boxers that she could see.

"I'm going to sit out on the patio," she said. "Can you bring me something yummy?"

"Sure babe, I'll be right there." Clay watched as Jenny walked to the door and he sighed. Long legs, the tight white shorts he liked and a dark green tube top that showed a little nipple. And green, white and red. Hmmm. He didn't know if she chose those tops because of that, but damn. He thought back a couple of weeks to when he had those nipples in his mouth and sighed again. It kinda did suck working these shifts.