FOR THIS RELIEF, MUCH THANKS
By Dawn Ramble
A grieving widow finds release while visiting a beach. All characters are over eighteen.
"Oh, I should have mentioned that the section of beach at the end of the path is clothing optional. You just need to walk about sixty yards to your left and you are back among the textiles." These were the last words my aunt said to me before handing me the keys to her holiday home and driving away.
Well, I had a pretty good idea what 'clothing optional' meant, but 'textiles' was a new one on me. I went inside and Googled it. At first everything I got made no sense, just a lot of stuff about fabrics, but then I Googled 'clothing optional and textiles' and I realized that it was a term that nudists used for clothed people or non-nudists. That set me wondering about my Aunt. She had used the words so casually they were clearly part of her vocabulary.
My name is Lucy, Lucinda Dawn Walker, to be precise, and I'm twenty-eight. My husband of four years, five months and seven days was killed in a climbing accident. His name was Angelo, and he was free climbing in Yosemite with his good friend John. They say he climbed ahead before John had properly set the belay or something.
Don't ask me to be technical I don't know the terms, it was his sport, not mine. He slipped and fell bringing John with him. John landed on a lower ledge, shattered his right shoulder, and broke his pelvis. Angelo somehow let the rope fall free and fell to the rock floor. Our local paper had a picture of his spreadeagled body taken from the rescue helicopter. The headline caption was 'Fallen Angel' and praised him for his quick action that saved John's life.
That was five months and four days ago and I think about him every day. After the accident I would sometimes think I saw him on a street or even imagine he would be coming home, until reality hit me. At times when I was not in denial, I was intensely angry at him, but although I wanted to cry I couldn't. I was lost. My future was gone, and my life was in limbo. I shed some tears, yes, but not enough to assuage my grief if that is possible.
I buried myself in my work to the point where I had what some people call a nervous breakdown. In my case it was depression, inability to eat or to sleep properly, and various associated problems that landed me in hospital. I was there for two weeks. Rested and renourished I was released. As part of my recuperation my work asked me to take a complete break, go on vacation and relax before taking up my duties again.
Thanks to my Aunt's generosity, here I was at no cost even though my work was continuing to pay my full salary. She had worried that I should not be alone, but I felt that was what I needed most. Despite my grief at no point had my thoughts become remotely suicidal. I unpacked and wandered round her beach house familiarizing myself with the things she had shown me and discovering a few things on my own. The fridge and freezer were full, and we had shopped together for the fresh produce I would need for the week. After the week she would check on me and I could stay longer but we did not need to decide that now.
For lunch I made myself a sandwich and a cup of coffee. Intrigued by her parting comment and spurred by the glorious weather, I changed into my one-piece swimsuit rather than one of my bikinis. I wasn't about to show off my very untanned body. I put on my sunglasses, picked up a towel and put my water bottle, suntan lotion, and a book into a shopping bag and headed down the path to the beach.
It was a late May Monday, and as I stepped from the air-conditioned house, I immediately felt the sun's heat on my body. The beach seemed deserted. I looked towards the so-called textile beach. No one. It looked unwelcoming and deserted. A hundred yards or so up what I took to be the clothing optional area I saw a scattering of widely spaced people, maybe twenty in all. From what I could see not all were fully naked.
Curious, I found myself wandering in their direction, although I had never been to such a beach before. I stopped after only forty yards when I realized I had reached the first of these people, an older man, and his young companion. I had not noticed them earlier as they were sitting on a beach sheet closer to the grass verge where the widely spaced houses stood back from the beach itself.
I hesitated and put down my bag. Although I was some thirty feet away the older gentleman smiled at me. I felt like I recognized him. Then I realized that with his short stubbly grey-white hair above a creased black face he looked a bit like Denzel Washington, a favorite actor of mine. It was only as I found myself walking towards him and his equally black companion that I registered the fact that they were both totally naked.
I stopped, but by then he was rising to meet me, and if I had not been aware of his full nudity before I surely was now.
"A lovely day," he said, and I nodded, "Haven't seen you before but I saw you came from Aggie's place." I nodded again, as I realized he was referring to my Aunt Agatha. "I'm Earl; I'm your nearest neighbor," and he stretched out his hand. I moved forward to shake it raising my gaze to look him firmly in the face.
At this point I should probably have said my name or something...anything, but I was mute.
"My grandson has been spending the week with me. He spent the last year doing volunteer work in Africa, but now he realizes that to do the work he wants he will need a degree. Right now, he's here to do a little studying and some relaxation before taking his SATs.
"Josh come here and meet...this young lady."
"I'm Lucy," I said, finally finding my tongue, as a very tall young man rose to his feet and waved at me tentatively. He was clearly very shy.
"Come here and shake Lucy's hand properly."
I sensed his reluctance might partly be due to the fact his penis was clearly aroused. Not an erection, nowhere close, but still stiff enough to hang a little way out from his body. I consciously pulled my gaze away and stepped forward and held out my hand. He had little choice but to shake it.
"Nice to meet you both, " I said, noting his penis bobbed in time with his handshake.
"Likewise," Josh said.
"Do you want to come over or would you rather just relax on your own?"
"If it's all right with you, I'll just sit on my own. To tell the truth I haven't been to a clothing optional beach before."
"Well, there's a first time for everyone so you just do whatever makes you comfortable. We can move if you wish."
"No, please that isn't necessary."
I went back to my bag and spread my towel and that's when I realized I had a decision to make. I kicked off my sandals and took off my wrap. Making my decision I slipped the straps from my shoulders and rolled down my swimsuit to my waist. I felt a frisson of excitement as the breeze brushed my breasts and I felt my nipples respond.
My decision had just been to be topless but now with a roll of swimsuit around my hips I felt awkward. With barely a further hesitation I continued to roll down my one-piece suit until it dropped to the sand, and I stepped out of it. I'm not a prude, but this was beyond my normal comfort zone. Obviously, I should have worn a bikini, but the feel of the sun and the light breeze on my naked body was exhilarating and liberating.
As I bent to pick up my swimsuit and smooth it out, I became aware that both Josh and Earl, were watching me intently. Earl quickly looked away, but Josh's gaze did not waver, and I saw he now had the clear beginnings of an erection. I was conscious of a guilty feeling at sparking this reaction and a wave of excitement traversed my body not least in my loins. For the first time in forever I was feeling...let's just say it...horny!
I sat down on my towel, but almost immediately stood up again, and then bent over to pick up the tube of suntan lotion. My next moves were logical and necessary but also exciting. I began to apply the lotion to my shoulders and neck, then down my arms. I applied it to my stomach and sides before squirting a dollop onto my right hand and massaging it into my breasts. As my hand went over then I felt my nipples stiffen to hard nubs. I was enjoying this and felt the need provide the men with a show without making it obvious.
Next to receive attention were my legs starting with my feet and working upwards. As I applied the lotion, I moved around from one foot to the other sometimes facing the ocean, sometimes looking down the beach, and sometimes directly facing away from the water and towards the two men. I did not look at them directly alternating between looking at the tube of sunscreen and staring abstractly into the distance. Of course, behind my sunglasses, I was able to take frequent peeks at the men, particularly Josh.
As my hand finished on the side of my thighs, I squeezed a further dollop on to my right hand and began to massage it into my more intimate areas. I was not clean shaven, my mons was just tidily trimmed, but I still rubbed some lotion into it. However, I had shaved lower down from my clitoris to my butt. A routine I had adopted during my marriage, as Angelo liked that area hair free when he went down on me. Until now, no one but my doctor and my beloved Angelo had ever seen it.
I had a momentary out-of-body experience seeing this still slightly undernourished, pale woman applying sunscreen to her naked body. The sun was highlighting my vibrant chestnut hair and my matching bush (I do color, yes both, to be sure the rug matches the drapes as they say). I was instantly back in my body as I rubbed lotion over my clit and down both sides of my vagina brushing my outer labia. I let my hand travel that path twice more. I had never had an exhibitionist urge before, but now I was on fire.
Having finished I sat down facing the ocean and lay back on my towel resting my head on my bag. As I lay there, I wondered what the men were thinking. I could hear them quietly chatting but was unable to decipher what they were saying. Were they talking about me or not? Did they think I was a shameless slut or did they find my behavior totally normal. I mean didn't everyone have to put on some form of SPF. At least those of us who were as pale as I was.