[All characters in this work of fiction are (still) over 18. I should go on to emphasize that this story and its prequel are, as stated, fiction, not a personal experience. Believe me, I wish.]
*
I would take that yearly trip to Ocean City with my family one more time before I went off to college in Montana, and time proved me wise; I did not have the lunatic inclination to stride naked down the beach at night once more. That was behind me.
I told you that story to tell you this one.
I grew up. I came back with a career and a life of my own, and one summer, I spent another week in Ocean City. It was with some friends this time, and my boyfriend of the day. I was normal.
We were two days into our week-long stay, I think, when my mind lingered on the memory of that night so long ago. How adventurous I was. It also dawned on me that my mind lingered on it every time I went on vacation to the beach. That night, I decided I missed the old me.
Things are different when you have a career, a relationship, a reputation. I wasn't going to do anything crazy this time. But I did need some time by myself. It was about 1:00 am and I was still awake. Waiting. The time was right and I slipped out from under Calvin, my aforementioned boyfriend, and changed into my swimsuit. I didn't intend to do anything perverted, but I did intend to do some living. No sandals this time, either, I didn't own any then. But I did wear a watch this time.
The beach at night is enough of an excuse for anyone to slip out alone, and it was just as majestic on that night as it ever was. I stood on the shingle, in a one-piece once again, black this time, letting the warm wind blow my hair and the sound of the ocean welcome me back. I skipped sideways down the steep embankment to the sand and made my way out onto the beach.
I still loved it all. I sat on the dark shore and let some waves hit me, walked in defiance of sharp seashells by the water where the sand is firm, and above the tide line where it is soft and tiring to trek. It had been too long. I was out there for hours.
There it was. I realized after walking past it. I approached it, climbed onto it and sat in it. The same lifeguard chair from years before.
Okay, not the same one, they'd probably replaced it at least once or twice since then, but it was outside the hotel I'd been staying at when I'd taken my...stroll. I was so foolish then. I shouldn't have been under it. I should have been sitting on it, watching the moon reflecting on the sea. Or at the very least, storing my clothes in the hatch under the seat, not burying them in the sand. Oh well. I rested my head back.
I'd been sleeping. My watch said it was 3:23 when I looked at it. What a wonderful nap, very zen, but my neck was killing me. The wooden garrett wasn't exactly a Lay-Z-Boy. So I climbed down.
It had gotten cloudy. I found myself watching for holes in the clouds, smiling. I also found myself crossing those alleys of light from the deck of the hotel I'd passed when I'd taken my long walk the first time. My heart jumped each time then too. I'd had enough excitement for one night.
The lights had killed my night vision. So it wasn't until I was in the fourth "alley," the middle out of nine, when I saw there was someone else on the beach with me. She had just stepped into the first lane.
We stood, staring at each other for, oh, I don't know how long. She was slim, a little younger than me. Short blond hair. And from where I was standing, she seemed to be wearing nothing but an anklet.
My heart began racing in a very familiar way. My eyes must have been huge. You'd think it was me being caught. Her mouth was hanging open a little, meeting my gaze, neither of us moving. Until I blinked.
I think it was at that point that I turned and ran. I think she also ran at that point.
I didn't sleep that night. The following morning my boyfriend caught me with my swimsuit still on. I told him where I was (but not what I saw), and of course I was believed. But still. Evidence that my mind was not operating properly.
Everything was wrong. My whole body felt the way it did when I'd gone walking for the first time that overcast night years ago. Stuck that way, every switch active. Heart pounding, sweating, occasionally shivering. Horny. Down to my spine. I was wet the whole day and at all times, but I jumped when anyone touched me, including Calvin. I needed to be alone. I told them I was sick and went back to the hotel while they were still at the beach. I WAS sick. I lay sick to my stomach and bathed in sweat for over an hour before I couldn't take it anymore. I went into the bathroom and stripped my clothes off, looking at myself in the mirror.
I wasn't the same. I'd filled out more. I didn't see myself as particularly attractive before, and now I was approaching my thirties. I was fat now. Old. Decrepit. Was that a gray hair? My hand wasn't listening to my mind's feminine insecurities as it reached for my friend's bikini razor. I couldn't believe what I was doing, but I couldn't stop myself from cleaning up the landscape, trimming it perfectly, like someone who wants to be looked at. I didn't want to be looked at. I'm only 27, but at the time my mind was trying to defend me by making me think I was an old granny. And it wasn't working. I'd soon carved out a fine patch, arrow shaped, pointing the way. I looked at myself in the mirror for a long time.
I think it was then I really gave in. I knew what I had to do. I think I always had. Part of me knew and believed this was a bad idea. But today it had switched places with what had been lying in wait all my life and was now in control. I was going to the beach.
I'd been there for hours. I had gone down to the boardwalk and bought myself a tiny two-piece, the kind that would fly off in a stiff breeze. I wore it down to the water, and lay on a towel with my sunglasses on for the whole world to look at, which they would have, I'm sure. But there was no sun that day. A storm was brewing, and except for a few occasional beach walkers, the place had largely cleared due to the closing of the water. That was fine. Fewer people to wait on when night fell.
By the time it did, there were occasional rolls of thunder. It cleared the beach early. By the time the lifeguards knocked off (and abandoned those lovely chairs of theirs), I was almost completely alone. I'd brought food. I enjoyed it while I waited for night to fall after a long summer day. I didn't even wait for it to get completely dark. I just opened the grocery bag.
I know I said that hiding my bundle inside the lifeguard chair rather than under it would be a good idea. But I felt that to bury it was ceremonial. My towel and meager swimsuit went under the sand. And I started another long walk.
The rush was there again. I was more in control of it this time. Less of it was fear. That was a problem, so I walked more slowly. I knew what I needed. I needed to be seen. I needed to get caught. The girl I saw last night was the object of my deepest envy right now. Realistically she'd never be back to repeat her stunt after last night, but part of me hoped. Even if she did show up, I needed someone to see me. So I glided down the beach in full view of the deserted boardwalk. I was a naked love goddess drifting in the night.
There they were. Some college girls at the rail of the boardwalk, probably drunk. I'm straight, but that didn't matter. I forced myself to slow down. They could surely see something moving in the night. Whether they'd see it was me in my state of undress I wasn't sure, but when I got close enough, I heard one giggle...an excited and hushed exchange...maybe about me? I had to know. I'd been forcing myself to keep my eyes forward, but I slowly hazarded a glance.
They saw me. I could tell they weren't sure what they were seeing, but that some part of them expected the impossible as they squinted in my direction. I gave them a smile. Astonished giggles broke out behind me as I continued.
Oh god yes. It was exactly what I needed. I closed my eyes and savored the feel of their eyes. I wanted to go back. Do things for them, let them see me debase myself with lewd acts for them...but no. One step at a time.
I was already so wet it was running down my thighs, the humidity keeping it from evaporating as it mixed with my sweat. So when I finally saw someone coming the other way, right for me, I could hardly breathe. I tried not to dash to meet them. But I certainly quickened my step. They were coming right for me. My heart beat against my ribs as they came toward me. A woman.
It was her.
We slowed, and slowed some more. We cautiously stopped just far enough apart that if we reached out our hands we could touch fingers. But we didn't.
We looked at each other. I could tell we were having the same feeling. Looking each other over. Being looked over. Both so wet it was covering our inner thighs.
I looked at her short blond hair. Her round breasts and quarter-sized areolae. Her hourglass form, her long legs, painted toenails and hemp anklet. Her erect nipples, parted lips, her shaved pubis and wet, shining thighs.