I've written stories on many aspects of the erotic dimension but since you really liked my last story, "My Beautiful Blond on the Beach," I thought I would continue in that vein. I seem to have a predilection toward younger woman, some younger than my daughters. So here's another basically true story about a mature man with a horn and the younger woman who loves to blow it.
I have a lot of idle time. While it is definitely the devil's tool, at my age, I don't mind it one bit. And sure, while I sometimes get into trouble, it's okay. I'm not hurting anybody. On my daily trips into the village, I often hang out and shoot the breeze with the help. I stop at the hardware store, the local market stand, the post office and finally the pharmacy. I know several of the employees outside of their jobs. Some are kids of townsfolk I know, some are fellow boaters and some are neighbors. When Juana first came to work at the pharmacy, she immediately caught my eye and I immediately began to chat her up. She had a low voice and a lovely accent. 'N she sure was purdy!
Over a period of a few weeks, I learned that she was a Colombian immigrant and had been in this country for seven years during which time she had bounced from menial job to medial job. She'd come out to East Hampton because friends had moved out here to open a restaurant. She had been trained in Colombia as a chef and had come to take the job (and a stake in the business) they offered. The restaurant was not due to open for a few months and so she jumped at the pharmacy job in order to make any money she could. She was 33 and quite beautiful in an exotic Latino, sultry kind of way. Her deep skin, long black hair and dark eyes graced a lithe, small frame. I had to have a taste of this even though our age difference was more than twenty years.
Over the next few months, I became more and more familiar with her. Her nickname was "Jay" but naturally I called her "Mari" and told her that she made me high. I hit on her regularly, telling her that I would take her to dinner but she always fended off my flirting and kept me at a distance. Not that she didn't flirt with me, she did. She'd frequently bat her dark eyes at me or lean over and let me peek at her cleavage. The little tease knew what she was doing. One afternoon, she bent over to get something and gave me a full view of her delightfully small ass. I could see the line of her thong rise out of her crack up to the top of her jeans. Her perfect little ass was framed by the pants caught between her cheeks. I did everything I could do to keep from grabbing it and let me tell you, it was very, very tough. When she stood and looked at me, I was certain she was aware of my burning eyeballs and bulging crotch. She smiled.
One day, I walked in and didn't see her around. I bought my allergy pills, some toothpaste and mostly just dawdled for a while. As I neared the back of the store, I saw her leave the employee's room and she looked awful. She looked drawn and pale.
"Jay, are you alright? You look awful."
"I'm not feeling so good today. I don't know if I need a break from this job or if it's just that time of the month or what but I'm working this shift fast and going home early. I need to lie out in the sun. I'm glad I saw you. Can you do me a favor, please?
"Sure, Jay. What do you need?"
"My car is in the shop for a few days and I need a lift home to Amagansett when I get off. Can you take me?"
"Sure. What time?"
I agreed to pick her up in an hour which was enough time for me to take my dog down to the beach for a romp. When I pulled up to the employee's entrance, she was just walking out. I offered to take her for coffee but she only wanted to collapse at home. I offered to be her nurse, or if she was so inclined, to play doctor. This got a laugh and a "no-no-no" headshake. I asked her if, on her day off, and if she felt up to it, I could take her down to the beach for some serious sun. She liked that idea and suggested that she would call me on Thursday morning to let me know. I dropped her off in front of a modest house in the Clearwater section where she rented a room. I watched her ass sashay toward the front door, and I wanted it.
Early Thursday morning, she called and asked if my beach offer was still open.
"Of course, it is. Is there anything I can prepare or take?"
"No but I'll tell you what. I'll make us lunch and you take care of everything else. And can I ask you which beach we're going to?"
"I thought maybe Wiborg Beach because it's kind of deserted now before the tourists come out for the season. And because I have a Village Beach Pass. Why?"
"That's good because I've never been on any of the private beaches, only the town beach on Atlantic Avenue. I don't mind the busier, family beaches. I mean all the beaches here are beautiful. But I prefer it a bit quieter, you know? I've always wanted to see that beach, Wiborg, too – where the fancy people go."
"Today's your lucky day. I'll pick up at 11. That will set us up for the best rays."
An hour later, I was on my way to get her. I couldn't have asked for a better day for mid-May. It was a perfectly blue, no-cloud sky and it was about 85 degrees. I drove my old Land Rover that I keep in the garage and use only when four-wheeling on the beach or on the old dirt roads up in the Northwest Woods section.
She came out of the house laughing at the site of me in the Land Rover - no top, no windows - and hopped in. She was wearing a long beige caftan and looking very "Hamptons." She looked much better. In fact, she looked radiant.
"They'll think you are a movie star."
"Oooh, maybe I'll be discovered."
We drove down to Wiborg and I stopped at the edge of the parking lot, Jay started to get out and I waved her back into the car. I lifted the yellow-knobbed shift and turned it several times to lock it in place. Then I went to each wheel hub, pulled out the center rods, turned each ninety degrees and locked them. Then I folded down the windshield, locked it to the hood and jumped back in to my now four-wheeled Land Rover. We jumped into and through the sand, bouncing down the beach. To the west, toward Georgica Beach, we could see small umbrellas way off in the distance. To the east was a vast nothing and that's the direction I took.
We ran along the tide's edge and danced with the rolling waves. About a mile up, I pulled toward the dunes and parked.
"Here we are, your Highness, you're own personal beach."
She took no notice of me as she slowly walked toward the water. My dog was already playing in the waves and peeing on the clams. I set up camp.
First was the super large Army and Navy Store blanket, big enough for four. Then came this small wind and sun shield I keep in the car but rarely use. It's sort of a half-tent that blocks the harsher aspects of the elements. I put the lunch basket and the beverages under it. Then I got my Times, a pencil and some lotion. As a final touch, I placed a small vase with fresh lilacs in the center of the blanket. I took my wine bag from the car, poured two glasses of Pinot Noir into plastic goblets and looked up to see her walking back. God. I loved the slow and languid way she walked with just a slight sashay of her hips. She was a dream, my Hispanic Girl from Ipanema fantasy.
She smiled when she saw what I had done.
"You have such style. I am so impressed. And to speak honestly, I really am impressed with you. You are a good guy...and classy, too."
I loved the little Latino accent, the lilt in her voice.
"This is the most beautiful beach I've ever seen. It really does feel like it's my very own. Thank you for taking me here."
She continued as she pulled the caftan over her head revealing a dark chocolate bathing suit. It was a thong bottom which was striking for its minimalism but also for her light mocha skin against it. The bra was also a small affair just covering enough of her pretty 34B breasts to hide her nipples. I found myself staring as she turned to the lunch box and bent over exposing that sensational ass to me. Oh, that thong! It was as smooth as a babi...well, you know.
"I made some easy to eat snacks. First, I have ceviche. Then I made some cuban sandwiches...hello, hello! Are you there?"
I snapped out of it.
"I'm sorry. But maybe I'm not sorry either. You are sooooo beautiful...your body...that thong..."
"You like? I wore this suit for you. Special," she said as she stuck a pose. I thought my dick would snap in half.
