Tall and tan and young and lovely
The girl from Ipanema goes walking
And when she passes, each one she passes goes β aaah
- Antonio Carlos Jobim
*
Nelle loves her sunrise walks; and this Monday morning she has risen early so that her husband, Brether, and their company, close friends Anne and Drew Foster, will not be disturbed nor even miss her. The 2-mile stretch of Plum Island between parking lot #6 and the now defunct Camp Sea Haven is usually deserted and has become a favorite path for her early morning nude workouts.
The waters off the island are treacherous with the shifting sands. Sometimes after a storm the sand may be washed away to reveal the secret hiding place of an old shipwreck. And, remarkably, today the ribs of an old hull rise down the beach ahead of her, ghostly and ominous. When she gets back to
Sea Turn,
Nelle plans to figure out which one it might be by using a map of shipwrecks that is included in a book about Plum Island she had bought in Newburyport.
The Refuge is open to the public from sunrise to sunset; and today, a short distance beyond the old wreck, two eager surfcasters have already set up camp in this remote area which is available only those who can walk there or off-road the dunes with their 4-wheel drives.
Nelle has become possessive of that 2-mile track of refuge beach. Because it is adjacent to the property they rent, she rationalizes that any beach-goers she might meet are not intruders, but her guests, and they had best be apprised of the dress code. Of course, being nude for friends is one of her sexual turn-ons, but having two strange men see her up close and personal would be an extra sweet rush.
So rather than detour up through the dunes or shorten her walk, Nelle determines to traipse by in only her reef shoesβproud of her well-toned 152-pound bod, flowing tits and Brazillian waxed snatch. As Brether contends, she is "built for comfort" and extremely sexy for a mature woman of 42.
Both men are wearing sunglasses to shield their eyes from the glare of the rising summer sun low on the eastern horizon. They don't seem to be watching her, but she is sure that they are. What guy wouldn't watch a naked woman stroll past them?
She has a choice to say something or walk by silently. Deciding to put on her aloof "Girl from Ipanema" act, she strides on by without a word, yet with an added bounce that makes her big tits jiggle and gives a samba-like rhythm to the swing of her round ass and hips. Nonetheless, she gets no comment from the guys, who seem to attend only to their fishing.
Disappointed, Nelle continues on, making her usual distance, then turns around to go back the way she came. The ocean being calm, she decides to walk the water's edge and try a different tack with the stoic fishermen. Avoiding their long lines laid out in the surf, she walks up the sand behind them.
Although Nelle is glad that the men have not been rude, she is slightly put out that she hasn't even drawn a glance, never mind a cat-call or a wolf- whistle. Stopping behind the pair, she begins, "How's the fishin' boys?"
"Nothin' yet," the man on the right offers.
"Do you'll think it'll rain?" Nelle asks trying to prod some further conversation.
"Red sky at morning, sailor, take warning," offers the guy on the left in strong New England accent.