A Walk In The Sand

Preface:

Hey there fellow readers,

My first story here at Literotica. I'm new to writing erotic content, too. I recently found reading and writing erotic stories gets me horny as hell, so in lieu of keeping my writing to myself I decided to publish a few here.

This story is the first chapter to a novella I've been writing. I recently revised it to fall into the constraints of borderline eroticism, where this first chapter is not all that pornographic. Rather, it's an exploration of an idea that came to me after watching an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm, in which Larry David comments on how well endowed one of the young'uns playing nearby appeared, acting the fool as usual. The aspect I found hilarious was how he felt compelled to compliment the father on a job well done.

The story is about 12,300 words. Yes, I need a good editor!

Forever aroused by life,

MacHill

****

A Walk in the Sand

California, where my story unfolds, is so far from the great tundra of northern Michigan, where the snowmobile rules the roost and where my parents raised me as a couple mostly in love. Toward the end of their divorce things got so heated I was shocked to witness how two people who loved each other for my entire life could become so hostile and cold toward each other- especially a minister and his wife. I found my love for them was not unconditional; rather, the love of my parents is based much upon the degree to which they loved each other. Listening to their antics I reasoned that if two so devout followers of Jesus as my parents had it wrong, how else was I brainwashed into thinking false truths?

I spent a cold depressing winter out on the icepack moving as fast as my snow-churner would take me, working my body to the point where my enduring welter-weight physique was that of a golden glove prize fighter who knows how to hold down an six-hundred kilogram machine from hell. At least, that's how I saw myself while traversing the lake at 100 KPH. And by the time much of the snow and ice had melted I felt ornery as a wrestles bear after a long hibernation. I felt tarnished by icy hearts, willing to go to all lengths to find a sanctuary far from all that used to feel like a home.

"Mom, Dad, I've decided to go to visit Aunt Peg in California," I said to them after we sat down for our weekly dinner together. "I'll be eighteen next week and I want to go on vacation by myself," accentuating the last part to emphasize my disdain. "I am going to use some of Grandpa's inheritance money since I am now an adult. That's how it is going to be."

"This is all about your mother, isn't it?" Dad scowled. "The good lord has tarnished you, and now you are against me, William. She put you against me, hasn't she?"

"I did none of the sort," Mother retorted hostilely, inadvertently sending a rain of stale bread spittle toward my face. "You are my beautiful child and I cannot live without you. Who will go with me to church in the evenings?"

Dad shouted, "You drove him away. Do you see what you do, woman? This not listening to me as the head of the household, how you diminish our son in the process? Helen, I may one day forgive you for this, but God shall not... to drive a son away from his father like this. Can't you see he is serious? The boy is leaving us because of you!"

I remained calm and said clearly, "I'm going to stay with Aunt Peg until I decide which university I want to attend. I called her last week and she said I can stay at lest two months because Candice moved out, apparently unable to tolerate her sister, Susan, any longer."

"They were constantly at each other since they were toddlers. I can see how they might have problems," Mother replied nonchalantly, as if forgetting about the heated argument in process. "Candice must be twenty... three now? And Susan is your age. She is a smart girl, or she was the last time I saw her. But Peg did not have Jesus in her heart. Billy, I don't want you to live with her and be influenced by her unchristian ways."

****

After being sequestered in a cold desolate place my entire life, Oceanside, California, was like stepping onto the sun, but in a nice way. Having never left Michigan- with the exception of Canada, which frequently acts like our fifty-first State- it surprised me how different the foliage looked and how the air smelled rolling in from the Pacific, the sun looming larger in the sky. And when I first took notice of the girls walking the boardwalk wearing bikinis I thought about how loud Father would preach to them:

"Being unclothed under the eyes of GOD besmirches him, since he cast us out of Eden into a world of shame clothed in foliage. May you feel the punishment of embarrassment as a reminder to not make believe you are sin free and shameless. The penitence of clothing is justly deserved, that we scorn those who walk naked amongst each other as if still in paradise."

One look at me told the locals I was certainly an out of town white boy from northern Michigan. I felt so out of place; untanned, wearing cut-off jeans and a faded t-shirt. I stood out like a skinless bleached potato surrounded by succulent Mediterranean veggies on a gloss-black dinner plate. Two days after my arrival the shock of loosing my geographic references subsided and I ventured out. I met an Italian-American girl named Cindy at the market, who was a few years older than me. She lived down the street a block closer to the beach. We got along well, and since neither of us were working we spent a lot of time together hanging out at the boardwalk.

I'd love to tell you about how attractive Cindy is, but I'd be fibbing. She is kind of homely. It was her face that did her the most injustice, permanently crinkled as if she'd just eaten a juicy lemon. But, for me, it was her weight that was a real turn-off. After a few days hanging out together I realized Cindy wanted more of an intimate relationship than what I was comfortable with. It came to a head with her making awkward advances and telling me how attractive she found me. Now, I do take care of myself by being active, so my endurance is through the roof even if some might think of me as small in build- as I am a five-foot six and lanky.

"I want to be with you, Billy, if you would have me," she said as if she were asking me to marry her. "No matter how strange you sound, I think you are a fine looking man I could live with," she said referring to my fine accent and questionable domestic situation.

I didn't want to hurt her feelings, but I couldn't return the compliment, so I reinforced how much I enjoyed being friends with her, that it might be fun to live together 'as friends.' The expression on her puckered face changed to scorn. She teared up and became sad, and then out of the blue she accused me of being predigest toward obese woman! I did my best to calm her and reaffirm my position, that my feelings had nothing to do with her appearance. She jumped up and left in such a huff, crying her way down the block. She called later and apologized, saying that she knew all I wanted was a friendship and she was OK with that. To make a boring conversation short, she and her friend- along with her older sister, Janelle- were going to a private beach party in the morning, wondered if I wanted to go. I was ecstatic she wanted to remain friends, since I was feeling lonely, so I gratefully said yes.

****

The girls picked me up after breakfast and I was pleasantly surprised to find Cindy's friend, Darla, and Janelle were intimidatingly beautiful! Janelle, who was driving her Cadillac Escalade, looked much older than Cindy, perhaps approaching her thirties. My first glimpse of her getting into the van stunned me. It was her face; I swear, she looked so exotic, her short blonde hair so thick and slightly jelled, her perfect white teeth smiling at me, her high Aryan cheekbones and full, luscious, naturally pouting lips screamed fashion model. I remember how she glanced at me with her well tanned, refined expression. Her encapsulated first impression of me at a glance revealing disinterest by means of a broken smile and a quick turn of the head. Even if Cindy's sister was far too old and upper-class for me I was looking forward to seeing her in a wet swimsuit.

A warm sensual hand guided me into the back seat where I couldn't help but melt stupid all over Darla, who was a real short Latino girl with silky black shoulder length hair, and a great smile that brightened me up as much as Janelle's dismissive smirk brought me down. She wore a real bright-yellow summer dress that I'll never forget because she looked so radiant in it; the epitome of summer beauty. And she was so engaging, her Spanglish making me feel at ease because it stood out even more than my northern drawl. Throughout the fifty-mile trip down the coast Cindy didn't give me eye contact at all, her replies short, seemingly distracted, whereas Darla kept me entertained with stories of her adventures in Tijuana.

We pulled into a private parking lot, where Janelle had to show the security guard her membership card and we each received a red wristband. I could see right off by the architecture of the main building and the cars in the lot, Lido Beach was a place for the well-to-do. After unloading and a quick visit to the rest room, our procession commenced toward the shoreline, with me bringing up the rear like a Sherpa hauling baggage behind the important people. In this case, that was fine by me because I was able to check out two exceptionally gorgeous women. Trust me when I say watching Janelle lumber in tight white shorts through the shifting sand, well, it took fifty pounds off my back. Darla's calf-length dress was so baggy on occasion the wind took hold of the fringe and blew her garment up, revealing well-shaped legs that set my pace in her trodden footsteps. My load still made me lag behind, though. By the time I caught up with them, they were standing next to a large sign that read... are you ready for this?

"Nude Beach: No Clothes OR Cameras Beyond This Point. No Dogs or Unsupervised Children. RED pass access only. Trespassers will immediately be fined and arrested."

Holy shit! Janelle, Darla and Cindy were taking their clothes off! My initial reaction was how fortunate I was to watch two incredibly beautiful women get naked in front of me. I looked at poor Cindy, who was not in good shape at all. And when Darla took off her summer dress and undid her bra, I about fell over. Her boobs sat firmly on her chest in such a way I caught myself staring in disbelief; they were naturally firm and so pronounced, so beautifully proportionate to each other. I instinctually wanted to reach out and touch them, to feel her perky aureola in the palm of my hand. Then, it dawned on me that I had to take my own clothes off!

"You didn't tell me we were going to a nude beach! Why didn't you tell me about this?" I asked Cindy while fiddling with the pockets of my shorts.

I was starting to feel anxious because my parents are a bunch of puritanical prudes, who taught me how to be uncomfortable with my body any chance I could get. I mean, I'd never even been in the showers with the guys after gym class because I was home-schooled. My sister was planning on becoming a preacher, and I only saw her naked once my entire life. You know, sometimes I wondered if I was actually my father's child. This was all racing around my mind in an instant, this new situational frustration revealing itself in the form of a full blush that partly hid itself beneath my sunburned face.

"Because I didn't know, is why," Cindy casually argued. "Janelle said she belonged to a private beach now, is all. Isn't it beautiful? So, now that we are here I guess I'm fine with it. I've been to a nude beach before. How about you? Are you comfortable in your own skin or would you rather wait in the van? You think I'm fat don't you?"

I shook my head, feigning I was distracted by Darla, but it was my internal conflict concerning nudity that had my attention. It seemed to me that Cindy was not being totally honest, as if she knew I'd be freaked out by taking my clothes off in public since I told her of my upbringing, especially in front of bombshell Darla and high-fashion physique Janelle. I felt manipulated, wanting to make a run for it while chanting distorted moral convictions made readily available by years of religious dogma and conditioning. I silently vowed to make a run for it just after Janelle finished taking her clothes off. I could not help but notice her small breasts were tan all over, her left nipple pierced with a gold ring and her well-trained abs showed that she, too, took care of her body, much unlike her sister. A diamond found a home in her bellybutton and lodged there. I contemplated how she could keep such an even tan all over her well-shaped hour-glass body.

While pulling her shorts over her wide hips, gently rubbing the sand from her exquisite legs, Janelle said, "Look, Billy, it's no big deal. No one will even notice you, but you 'do' have to take your clothes off. That's the rule number one at a nude beach. No clothes and no cameras. Besides, all the guys will be busy gawking at Miss Perfect Tits here." She pointed to Darla with her thumb like a hitchhiker. "And there will be a lot of naked people, so you'll blend in." She slid her tiny panties slowly down to her feet, showing me a fine tuft of fine blonde hair in the shape of an arrow that pointed down.

I thought she was right; they'd all be looking at Janelle's incredibly well shaped bubble-butt, and built-like-a-brick-shit-house Darla, who held a look of satisfaction brought about by liberation from that oppressive summer dress, which she rolled up and gently stuffed into her carry-bag.

"That feels so much better," Darla said quickly applying an excessive amount of sun screen all over her body.

Janelle, speaking to Darla said, "Especially since there are so many hunks that come here." Looking me directly in the face, squinting her eyes like a school teacher who had observed questionable behavior, she said, "And you will be well supervised," taunting me since I was still clothed pacing next to the sign unable to stand still.

Now, perhaps I was wrong in thinking so, but I thought Janelle meant to say, "Don't worry about being naked around us girls, Billy, because there are far more attractive men around here than you... because you are not pretty enough; you, Billy, are too scrawny and unattractive, and from a foreign land that holds little interest for a sophisticated woman, no matter how approachable she may appear to your little mind; I dismiss you as a child unworthy of consideration."

A self-righteous smile cross Cindy's face, like she was paying me back for not wanting her sexually. I felt self-conscious, indeed, having no experience being naked whatsoever, especially in front of others. It was as if I didn't know how to do it... how to take my clothes off. Hand blocking my eyes from the glare, I stared at the sign mesmerized, transfixed on the word that stood out as if in neon: NUDE. I remembered my vow back on the ice pack to move away from my isolation and experience new things, so why the hell not now? I dumped all the gear into a big pile and stripped, talking to myself all the while, trying to convince my inner dialogue that I was no longer a pubescent child under the guise of overly-religious parents. I was going to act like an adult!

I pulled my shorts and underwear down, feeling a western breeze on my genitalia for the first time. My shirt, I about tore off, so frustrated was I in having to make this choice. I stowed my sandals and clothes in a bag and hastily took hold of the panoply of items bestowed upon me by the girls, collecting them up in a measured huff. I struggled forward with unstable gait, my footing impeded by the hot shifting sand. My internal dialogue shifted to how the beach sand made the girls walk, swaying their hips in a wider range of motion than I was accustomed, as a landlubber of the frozen northern terrain.

All went well initially, with none of them staring or making comments about my body. I was expecting Cindy to start up with wise cracks about how thin I am, but she just ignored me as best she could. I could tell she was snatching glimpses of me when she thought I wasn't looking. They all were doing that, but probably not as much as I was looking at Darla, her big boobs bouncing along in all her glory; how they snapped firmly back into place with each step. After a ten minute march we made it to the edge of the main beach area where most of the people were lounging. There must have been over two hundred people I could see and it wasn't even noon yet.

At my request, we took a break. I complained about feeling like I was a camel in the movie, Lawrence of Arabia. And the sand was hot! So, I put down the beach chair, the cooler, the blankets and towels, trying not to fall in the process. Temporarily rid of my burden, I turned to find the three of them looking at me while I was downing half a water bottle. Through the wind I heard Janelle say to Darla something about "sticking out like a sore thumb," while gesturing toward me with that hitchhiker's thumb of hers. I motioned if there was some kind of problem, still struggling to understand what they were saying over the gust of wind.

Cindy yelled to me, "Well, be prepared to get a lot of looks today, is all." Darla and Janelle guffawed at this and the three of them moved closer to me so we could talk without shouting, each smiling as if surprised in a humorous way.

"I don't understand. What did you say?" I asked Cindy.

"My, look at you," Janelle said with a tertiary glance. "She said you might get some stares from the other sunbathers, is all." She looked down at my waist and said, "But I imagine you expect that already."

"Why is that? Because I'm scrawny? Is some guy going to kick sand in my face? My far-too-white ass? Does it look like a bright light bulb?" I asked while turning to look at my backside, trying to diffuse my anxiety.

Janelle replied, "It's that lack of tanning in your nether region. It's like you are asking for attention, so bright white is you northerner skin, Hon."

With such a beautiful face, I felt compelled to accept anything Janelle said as true, as if her words were tainted pure by those succulent glossy lips. I asked, "What's the matter with my skin? So, I'm a little white. What's the big deal?"

Looking at me inquisitively, she scratched her head and asked, "You do realize since you are mostly tan everywhere except for where your shorts were; being well endowed it highlights that part of your pearly-white anatomy?"

I guess Cindy read confusion on my face. She said to Darla, "He doesn't know he's hung. The country-boy has no idea he's hung like a horse."

This is embarrassing to write about because at first I didn't think she was referring to me! I looked around, thinking some giant guy had joined our caravan. I didn't have a clue what she meant about horses, since I've seen horses and they were a heck of a lot bigger than me.

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Of course he knows it. How could he not? That's like Darla not knowing she has big tits," Janelle said looking at my body, who then stared into my face with great intensity and asked, "How old are you? You look so young to have something like that between your legs." Her expression of disbelief was gorgeous.

"I'm eighteen. My birthday was last week," I answered trying to look austere and older. Perhaps I looked a little older with my clothes on, since I have little body hair. She turned to look at her sister for confirmation, and received an agreeable nod. I certainly was more emotionally mature than the average eighteen year old, even if I didn't look it. And I set out to prove that point by shifting my posture and puffing up my chest, thinking that somehow it might make me look older that way.