David emerged from the ocean, carrying a surfboard, wearing a wet suit that clung to his aging, but athletic body. He set his surfboard down by his beach blanket, wiped the water off his hair and face with a towel, and sat down, gulping down a bottle of water from the cooler he brought with him. He stared at the throngs of people frolicking all around him on the beach. It was Labor Day weekend and the end of summer always made him feel melancholy, especially now that he was 45 and beginning to feel his age.
He was still an attractive man with brown eyes and brown hair that had flecks of gray on the sides. His face had worry lines that were starting to become more noticeable due to years of stress he had put up with till this point in his life. He never had a problem attracting women. They had always responded to his natural charm and quiet grace. Some would say he was a womanizer, but he never thought of himself as this heartless player, despite what various people in his life have told him. Ever since he was a teenager, he had been in long-term relationships, had some flings, and one-night stands. He was a very successful businessman and had done extremely well for himself. He considered himself a confirmed bachelor and didn't feel the need to get married and start a family. However, lately he felt like something in his life was missing, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was.
He had always been romantic in his own way with all his girlfriends. He was polite, charming, gentlemanly, always paid for dinner, gave them nice, thoughtful gifts, and had been an excellent and skillful lover. But after a while, they all complained to him about the same thing. Work took up too much of his time, he was too distant, too cold, too distracted to fully give them his attention. He never gave himself completely to one woman emotionally. He was always able to distance himself from his feelings, but as much as he hated to admit it, he was starting to feel lonely. He felt a heaviness and burden were placed upon his shoulders every passing day.
He had always lived a safe, comfortable life, aside from his passion for surfing, which was the most adventurous thing he did in his free time. That was the one thing in his life that gave him any clarity or peace of mind. Women became too complicated and difficult for him to understand. When he was in the water, cutting across the waves, he felt like he could turn his brain off and experience the adrenaline rush that was like a powerful drug to him. He could escape from reality and retreat into his own world. Ever since he could remember, surfing was therapeutic and the only way he could feel truly revitalized and renewed. But now he was asking himself, "Is that enough for me at this point in my life?"
He always felt like he was two different people: the traditional businessman at work and the hedonistic beach bum who wanted to recapture his youth and just wanted to party. For a while he went through a promiscuous period where he wanted to feel the thrill of having a fresh body next to him every night, but it had been a while since he had made love to a woman. He started to feel guilty about how he had treated women all these years and had put himself through a kind of self-imposed celibacy for several months.
As he took another sip of water, a young woman walking from the shore caught his attention. Time seemed to move in slow motion as he watched her. She appeared to look about 18 or 19, maybe 20 or 21 at the most. She wore a white bikini, had long, dark brown hair, brown eyes, and smooth tanned skin. She didn't have the most beautiful face and was a little too voluptuous and exotic for his taste. He preferred women who had fairer skin and slimmer, more athletic bodies. In fact, there were many women on the beach that afternoon with gorgeous supermodel bodies, fake spray tans, and equally fake breasts, but he was not interested in them at this particular moment. All he could think about was this unusual creature who had appeared before him like a sea nymph, as if he was in a dream.
She walked toward his direction, dried herself off with a towel, and sat down on a blanket a few feet next to him. It was strange that he never noticed her all this time since he'd been there. He was pretty certain he had never seen her before, but she seemed familiar to him for some odd reason. Perhaps he could persuade her to join him for a drink at the pier later on that night, maybe even dinner.
She reached down, grabbed a pair of reading glasses, put them on, and picked up a sketchpad. Near her feet were several colored pencils. She grabbed one and began to draw something on the paper. He kept staring at her, transfixed by her every move.
She sensed someone was watching her and she looked up from her sketchpad at him. He suddenly felt embarrassed and could feel himself blushing, something he rarely did. He looked away at stared at the ocean.
She smiled and set her sketchpad down. "Hey," she said, in a warm and friendly voice. It felt soothing to his skin and spread through his veins, like a tonic.
He looked back at her. "Hello," he responded, trying his best to be cool and nonchalant. There was an awkward pause.
"Are you okay?" she finally asked, looking concerned.
"Oh, yeah. I...I...didn't mean to stare at you. Please forgive me." Why was he so nervous? He couldn't understand it.
"It's all good," she said. "Pretty crowded, isn't it?"
"It usually is every Labor Day weekend," he said. He gestured at her sketchpad. "What are you drawing?"
"Some sketches of textiles I'm designing."
"Textiles! Oh, that's interesting. Are you an interior designer?"
"I hope to be someday," she said wistfully. She pointed at his surfboard. "So you're a surfer dude, huh?"
He laughed. "I'm a little old to be called 'dude', but yeah, I learned to surf before I could even walk."
"I'd be too afraid to try it. I'd probably lose my balance, fall off the board, and drown."
"Maybe I could teach you sometime."
"I'm sure you'd be a good teacher," she remarked flirtatiously. He had a feeling she wasn't talking about surfing and it excited him. He could feel himself getting hard and hoped she didn't notice. He had never acted on his desire for any young women before, even though he fantasized about them often. She seemed wholesome and naughty at the same time.
She resumed her sketching. In between gazing at the sea, his eyes would look over her face and body, especially her legs. He had a fetish for women who wore garter belts, silk stockings, and pantyhose. At the office he would discreetly glance at the young secretaries who passed by him, aroused by the silken nylons they wore. He fantasized about looking up their skirts and caressing their legs. He was fascinated by the mystery of these prim, proper women who dressed up from head to toe in tailored business suits with modest hemlines. He wanted to discover their real, true, erotic natures underneath the decorum and formality. He imagined this young woman in a business suit and it made him even more excited, yet disconcerted. All of a sudden, the heat of the summer sun started to feel even more oppressive than usual. He took the remaining water in his bottle and slowly poured it all over his head. He laid back down and closed his eyes.
She noticed this and said, "I know how you feel. It's too damn hot out here. I don't blame you." She took off her reading glasses, set her sketchbook aside, and came over to sit down next to him. She grabbed his copy of Time magazine and fanned him with it. "I'm Madeline, by the way."
"I'm David," he said, opening his eyes and shaking her hand. "Pleased to meet you. Boy, that water felt good."
"I'm glad," she said, lowering her voice just a tad. Her voice was so seductive and pleasant to his ears, like beautiful music. She glanced at the bottles of water in his cooler. "May I have a drink of your water?"
"Absolutely. Please help yourself. I'm sorry I didn't offer you one. How rude of me."
"It's perfectly alright. Don't worry about it." She set the magazine down, grabbed and opened a bottle, and took a sip. He noticed how sensual her lips were as she drank, imagining them wrapped around his cock. She took a little bit of the water and poured some onto her chest. He watched as the water dripped down into her cleavage and over her nipples that protruded underneath her bikini top. At this point he was no longer concerned if she could see he was hard. In fact, he almost wanted her to notice this.
"Mmmm, that feels good," she murmured.
"I'll bet," he said, licking his lips as he eyed her chest. "So, Madeline, do you live around here or are you just visiting?"
"I just moved into a little apartment not too far from here. I'm going to start school soon. I decided to go back after I broke up with my boyfriend. I wanted to start fresh in a new place. I've always loved the ocean. It's so peaceful and serene here."
"Good for you on deciding to continue your education. May I ask how old you are?"
"25."
"25, really? You look so much younger than that."
"That's what everyone says, but yeah, I'm 25. Let me guess, you're 47, 48?"
