I sat atop a sand dune and stared, mesmerized, out over a calm sea. The sun, having risen a couple hours before, hung low in the sky. On the water, little ripples from a gentle breeze reflected the intense sunlight, creating thousands of bright dazzling diamonds on the ocean's surface. Though it was still morning, it was uncomfortably warm already. I felt little beads of sweat forming on my brow, then trickling down my nose to hang suspended momentarily from the tip. I stuck out my tongue and caught a salty drop. It promised to be another very hot day.
As I sat brooding over the rotten year I'd just been through with the collapse of my business and my longing to fill the empty place in my heart, I resolved to focus on the positive aspects of my life, rather than dwell on the negative. Then I noticed a shape, long and dark, floating just beyond the gracefully curling breakers that rumbled when they broke. Squinting, I wondered, was it a log? That is, until it stood up and strode steadily through the water toward the beach.
The girl was tall and slender with long blond hair. It was wet and streaming down over her chest and partially obscuring one perfectly proportioned breast. The other breast, naked and proud, shimmied like a bowl of pudding and bounced as she walked toward me. It occurred to me that she was the most beautiful creature I'd even seen. I felt my heart racing in my chest and butterflies forming in my belly.
As she neared, I couldn't tear my eyes away from her. I was staring, rather impolitely I'm afraid.
"Sorry, I know it's not officially a nude beach ... hope I haven't offended," the girl said as she retrieved her beach towel from where she'd left it; just a few feet from where I sat.
"Oh god no, not at all ... I should be the one apologizing for staring, but you're just so beautiful, I couldn't help myself." I confessed.
"Oh my, why thank you," she said as she bent forward, her breasts swaying seductively; her nipples clearly hard and distended. She gathered her long hair in the towel and wrapped it, turban like, on top of her head, then straightened up.
"Say, would you like to have a cup of tea with me? That's my place just there," I asked, indicating the bungalow behind us, just on the other side of the dunes. Oddly, I felt like I couldn't let her get away from me; I longed to get to know her. I stood and brushed the sand off my bikini clad bottom.
"Sure, how could I refuse after being called beautiful ... which I'm not, by the way," she responded with a chuckle.
She grabbed her beach tote and pulled out a short white cover up which she threw on before following me up the sandy path that wound between swaying clumps of sea oats to where the boardwalk terminated. The cover up barey hid her nudity since it was made of a thin gauze like material; her dark areolas obvious through the translucent material. I found the look to be rather erotic.
When we reached the boardwalk, she paused and extracted an old pair of flip flops from her tote and tossed them on the gray weathered boards before slipping them on her feet.
"Good idea, don't want splinters," I said, "I'm Marcie, by the way."
"Sienna," she replied.
"Oh my, what a beautiful name," I told her as we walked the short distance to my place.
"My mom was an artist ... named all us kids after colors," she said as we walked across the back deck of my beach house.
I pulled the sliding glass door open and ushered Sienna inside my little beach cottage.
"Oh what a lovely place, " Sienna told me.
"Thanks. I'll put the kettle on ... it'll only take a minute," I said.
"How long are you here for?" She asked.
"Just two weeks, then I have renters taking it for most of the rest of the summer," I explained.
"Oh ... so you own the cottage, then," she said.
"Yep, I've been coming here every summer since I was three or four years old. This place has a lot of memories for me. When my parents died in a car crash a couple years ago, my sister and I inherited it." I explained.
"So sorry about your parents," she said as the kettle began to sing.
"One second," I said as I went to the kitchenette to make the tea.
I came back carrying a tray with two cups, milk and sugar, and a plate of ginger cookies.
"So sad when parents die too young, my dad died of a heart attack when I was in middle school. I hardly remember him. At least you've got your sister; I'm an only child," Sienna told me.
"Please, don't remind me," I responded.
"You two don't get along?" Sienna asked.
"I love her, but she's totally irresponsible. She's never lifted a finger to help out with this place, but insists on taking it four weeks a year ... rent free. Without the rentals, we couldn't afford to keep this cottage. It barely breaks even, as it is." I said.
"So, I take it that you live near here," she said.
"Yes, about forty minutes away. How about you? Are you local?" I said.
"No, I live in Dallas. I recently moved there for a job. Still, it's not too long of a drive to come down here to Galveston; just a few hours," Sienna told me.
"What sort of work do you do?" I asked.
"I'm a pilot. I fly corporate jets for a charter company. I'm Gulfstream and Embraer qualified," she said.
"Oh wow, that sounds exciting." I said, genuinely impressed.
"I'm away from home a lot, which is about as exciting as being a cross country truck driver," she replied. "Makes relationships difficult, too much time to play while the cat's away. Meow."
"Oh, sorry ... don't know what to say ..." I stammered.
"I'm better off without her anyway - it was almost a year ago, I'm over it now. But, enough of me whining, what do you do for a living?" She asked.
"Up until covid hit, I had a pretty good massage therapy practice going. Then it just withered and died with the pandemic. It's starting to come back now, but nowhere near what it was before." I explained.
"Oh damn, I wish I lived closer, I'd be your best client ... I just adore having a good massage," she said. "I'm very outdoorsy. I love running and hiking and swimming ... if it's outdoors, I'm in. But as a consequence, I get a lot of sore muscles."
"Well, how long are you down here for? I've got my table and oils in the trunk of my car. 'Have table, will travel' is my credo," I said.
