Arribada Of Love

A hazy blanket dissolved gradually across the dark blue lake while the rays of the early morning sun skimmed across the shimmering water, a gentle breeze played lightly like a butterfly. The long tentacles of the willow trees swayed in tempo, conducting nature into a springtime melody.

I glanced at my watch, almost time for Karen to arrive. She only lived a few minutes away and enjoyed the walk along the lake. Most weekends, she just stayed over, sleeping in the guest room. The tranquillity of my surroundings was a great benefit for her studies. She had become one of our top students, majoring in Marine Biology herself.

Only one more day remained before the start of spring break. What a glorious thought! It is not that I do not enjoy my teaching job. I loved it. I thrived on it. Teaching Marine Biology at the Balmorals University for the past four years has been a challenging and fulfilling experience. Now it is time for a well-deserved break from the students.

The doorbell rang. I grabbed my brown worn satchel and headed for the door. Karen greeted me with a cheerful hug as I opened the door.

"Good morning Ben," a smile beamed across her fresh and excited face, "what a beautiful morning?"

I smelled the flowery fragrance of body soap drifting from her shoulder length brown hair as she pressed her desirable body against mine, causing my pulse to race abnormally. She stepped away; her eyes scanned mine teasingly.

"

Mr. Christopher

to you madam," I said, pulling her hair playfully, "and why are you so happy?"

"Oh come on '

Mr. Christopher'

, one more day and we are off to Grandma's place. I am glad you kept your promise to go down with me this time. Have you packed your bag yet?"

"Don't worry, I am almost ready. I spoke to your mother last night; she told me Grandma would leave the key with her neighbour. I hope you realized we would be travelling by bus for almost eight hours. My jalopy will never make it in her condition."

"I don't care if it will take a week. I have not thought about anything except lying in the sun on the whitest beach in the world. Oh, and of course, being in the company of the most handsome teacher in the county. Hopefully, I can get you to chill out, it looks like you have a stick stuck up your-"

"That's enough," I looked at her sternly, "we aren't there yet."

"Yes Ben…I mean,

Sir

," she sighed, rolling her eyes.

I remembered the day clearly when I arrived to take-up the teaching post. Karen was 18 at the time, just starting college. Those days, she was still quite shy and conservative; at least, that was what she portrayed herself. Whether she faked it or not, I was not too sure. She took it upon herself to 'take care' of me, as you would for a younger brother. The difference, however, I was a lot older than she was. I obliged, allowing her to indulge herself in her newly found project, giving her the freedom to explore her own identity.

I would watch her with great amusement, the way she stood with her hands on her hips, scolding me for my unkempt home or my atrocious eating habits.

"You should stop filling your body with all these poisons, you need vegetables," she said with mocked anger.

As usual, I replied, "Yes, Karen, you are right. Maybe you can help me do some shopping?"

"Cool, can we go now?" her face lit up.

Each day, she involved herself with my life, my environment, therefore, my diet changed dramatically, the house became more organised. She even threw a hand in doing the laundry, with confidence and pride she even took care of my underwear.

"Your skin looks so dry. What moisturiser do you use?" she commented one day.

"What is moisturiser?" I teased.

"Oh you men!" she chastised. "Who would take care of you if I don't?"

She pulled a large bottle of lotion from her bag. I immediately saw the evidence of a pre-arranged plan she concocted when I noticed that it was still unopened.

"Here, let me put some on," she said, squirting the lotion into her hand.

I sighed reluctantly, "Okay, but be gentle."

Her hands shook as she brought them towards me. I closed my eyes while she gently went to work on my face and then my neck.

"I can do your back as well," she said with a tinge of nervous excitement.

"Sure, where do you want me?"

My unexpected submission caught her off guard. It took her a while to decide, her hands fidgeted nervously.

"The floor- you can lie on the floor," she said quickly.

"Naked or not," I teased her.

She blushed brightly. "It is a bit cool, at least wear a towel around yourself," her voice was marked with bravado, her tongue darted subconsciously across her dry lips.

"Fine, whatever you demand, I will go and prepare myself." I took off to the bedroom and quickly undressed. My mind was plagued with whether I have taken this a little too far.

Too late now

, I thought. If I suddenly stopped now, it might just cause her to withdraw into her cocoon. I decided to play it out, with care of course, keeping on a pair of white bikini-type underwear.

I wrapped a medium sized towel around my torso. It just managed to cover my butt, leaving a fair amount of my thighs exposed. I grabbed a larger towel and headed back to the lounge.

Karen paced up and down while she clung to the plastic bottle. Her thoughts were raging excitedly.

What am I doing? What is happening to me, my body? Why is it suddenly so wet between my thighs? He is my cousin for goodness sake!

I ignored her startled face deliberately when I entered the room and spread the towel across the carpet. "There, this should do," I said and slummed down on my front.

Karen kneeled hesitantly next to my body, adjusting the short body-wrap skirt, which parted stubbornly in the centre of her naked thighs. It took her ages to decide precisely where she should start. At last, she placed her soft slender hands over my shoulders.

"Just let me know if I am doing it right," her voice wavered slightly.

"Oh, that is perfect," I purred. The more she spread the cream across my shoulders, the more confident she became.

"Should I do it a little harder?" she croaked.

"Yes, that would be nice, especially the lower muscles," I prompted.

"Okay, but I need to sit on top of you. Just let me know if you get uncomfortable," she said as she carefully straddled my thighs.

I felt a sudden stirring in my groin when the inner surface of her cool thighs brushed against my own. The friction of her skin against mine heated rapidly each time she rocked back and forth. She stopped when she reached the edge of the towel in my lower back.

"I need to move the towel just a little lower," her tongue fought against the dryness inside her mouth.

"Okay," I said dreamily and lifted my torso from the floor.

There was a slight hesitation, but she wrapped her arms around my pelvis to untie the knot in the front. The feeling of her forearms and warm breath against my skin almost made me gasp. My manhood twitch slightly, inching closer towards her labouring hands.

Finally, she succeeded and slid the towel halfway over my buttocks. Applying a fresh sample of cream, she started to massage my lower back towards the elastic band of my underwear. She tugged on the sides and exposed both my cheeks. Her fingers ran surreptitiously along the crack while she massaged one cheek at a time. She shifted the towel further downwards. The sensation of her innocent fingers in such a private place heightened the alertness in my expanding erection.

"I'll do your legs now," the huskiness in her voice covered me like a warm cotton cloud, filling me with excitement. She shifted downwards and started at my feet, moving quite speedily towards my lightly spread thighs.

Initially, her knuckles worked fast and hard against my skin, but the pressure changed, the speed changed as her hands drifted higher underneath the towel. She watched excitedly as my buttocks clenched each time she advanced to my heated core. Her one hand rested lightly against the inside of my thigh as she pushed the other firmly underneath my underwear, across one cheek.

Karen felt her face twitch. Never before, had she been so close to another human's body. Neither had she touched one so intimately either. Sure, she thought about it, sometimes, but erased it from her mind quickly, too scared to delve into the unknown. Nevertheless, the affinity with this man she secretly nurtured gave her that confidence to embrace her fears, to overcome the physical and spiritual confrontation she struggled with ever since she stepped into womanhood. She felt like a butterfly coming out of its cocoon, exploring a new world of delightful excitement.

She glanced between her own thighs, her skirt sat high, exposing her moistened crotch covered by a pair of pink, cotton panties.

Look how wet I am! I feel like such a slut! I AM a slut! I want to touch myself, right here on top of him!

Beads of sweat formed across her forehead, along the creases of her tiny nose. She massaged more firmly with her other hand. Keeping her gaze on the visible bulge between my thighs, she placed her hand over her crotch, massaging in synchronized rhythm with the other. Her body shivered as she placed her finger over the soaking patch, sliding torturously between her engorged lips.

I have to stop, but I am so close! How much I long to feel him touching me, to take me quick and hard! Control yourself, you slut,

she thought.

"Ben- I am finished, can I- should I do your front?"

"Well, I don't know. Do you want too?" My mind worked feverishly, trying to resolve the problem with my straining erection.

"Oh yes, no use doing things halfway. I will be quick, unless…," her voice wavered.

"You mean,

unless

I didn't enjoy it?" I prompted.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Karen, I enjoyed it, maybe a little too much. I do not know how to explain it. It is sort of embarrassing, if you know what I mean." I stammered.

"Oh. Maybe you can explain?" her voice filled with excitement.

"I don't want to embarrass you either," avoiding her question

"Oh come on, I am not a child. I have seen everything before. Now, keep quiet and turn around." She smacked my cheeks and lifted her torso.

"Okay, I warned you," I said. I fumbled desperately, trying to keep my swollen head from peaking out underneath the waistband.

Even though I managed, the outline was still clearly visible. The towel somehow became lost in the process.

"See, it isn't so bad," she said as she lowered herself. A smile spread across her wicked face.

I looked with faked casualness towards my cock, but my eyes jerked towards her straddling body. My cock jumped involuntary as my gaze scanned her stained crotch. I dropped my head back on the floor and closed my eyes, avoiding any eye contact with her. I felt my skin flushed.

"Just relax," she said. She shifted her weight forward.

My god, he has a nice chest, hairless and well developed, not to mention that huge thing underneath his pants. Maybe I can touch it today, my first time, to hold a real cock in my hand!

I felt her hands roving over my chest, then lower and closer to the edge of my underwear. Her thighs clamped tightly against mine. At one time, her crotch briefly rested against my hardness. The friction of her heated cotton panties, confirmed that my head was fully exposed.

Karen rubbed her hands along my arms and down my sides. She gazed with interest at the contours of my half-exposed cock.

I wish I could feel what it would be like to kiss this part, to run my tongue over it.

She slid both her hands underneath the stretched cotton, exploring and feeling the presence of pubic hair surrounding this large protrusion. She watched it jerk again, sending an excited thrill through her body.

If I could just feel it once, feel it pushed against my heated core. To hell with it, he can stop me if he objects, but looking at the size of it, I doubt he will.

I heard another squirting sound; her knees shifted higher, the coolness of her lotion-covered thumbs as she placed onto my pelvic bones.

What is she doing!

Karen had her body in an awkward position. Her weight strained on her knees as she tried to get her aching crotch inline with her objective, at the same time, to massage that soft area.

She watched my face for any sign of rejection. Her hands travelled along my sides towards my shoulders, running them across my nipples.

What is she doing to me?

My hips arched slightly upwards, touching lightly against her heated crotch.

Is this what it means to be horny beyond control,

Karen thought.

I just need to press against him once, just to feel what it is like, maybe now, while he is relaxed. I will do it fleetingly, mistakenly, just to see his response. I hope he will not be angry.

She glanced with anticipation at her crotch, which hung a mere hair's breadth above her desired target. Her juices flowed freely.

I need to feel him now,

she thought as she lowered herself.

Karen exhaled sharply as my cock lunged against her juice-covered panty. Her body remained motionless, heat against heat; she fought desperately for self-control. I felt her heated desire radiating over my twitching cock. Slowly her hands moved across my skin, her thighs shook erratically under the strain of her partially suspended waist. She continued to relax her thighs, increasing the pressure upon our unified passion.

I felt the slickness of her juices filtering through her panties, anointing my shaft. She rode gently against my inflamed head. She kept the pace, breathing faster and louder.

I have gone beyond my own self-control, I wanted more, I wanted to feel her lips sliding against me.

"Karen, we have to stop," I whispered urgently.

Karen moaned with disappointment, "Oh no, please don't stop me, not now!"

"Believe me, neither do I, but we have to." I looked at her pleading face.

"I am sorry," she said; tear welled up in her eyes. "You probably think the worst of me." She climbed off and wiped her eye.

"Don't be silly, Karen! You did nothing wrong. I feel honoured, but I do not want you to do something you might regret later. One day you will meet the right person and who knows?"

"Yes, maybe, but I know nothing. I have never done this before," she cried. "I am probably the only 18 year old virgin alive. I have never even touched one of those," her eyes glanced at my now flaccid cock.

"You are having me on, I can not believe that."

"It is the truth!" she uttered and turned towards me. "Please, Ben; may I look at it just once?"

"Well, I don't know. I have some books I can lend you."

"I have seen enough books. I want to see the real thing. I want to touch it!" she said forcefully.

"Okay, only once, but it stays between us. Understand?" I said sternly.

"Yes," her face lit up, "I promise!"

I pulled my damp underwear over my hips. The idea of my cock acting as an art exhibition brought on another deep stirring.

Karen stared silently, licking her lips. "It looks so beautiful, so smooth and soft. Can I hold it in my hand?"

I could feel myself stiffening. "Sure, but on one condition; be quick and it is the last time."

"That's two, I will accept the first one," she giggled and reached for my cock. "It feels so nice, so big. The skin is so soft."

My cock grew rapidly in her tiny hand. "Okay, you've had your fun. Let it go now."

Her fingers squeezed gently around my shaft. "Is it painful?" she asked.

"No," I groaned.

She stroked my foreskin slowly back and forth over my swollen head. "Does it feel nice?" She shifted uncomfortably, feeling her juices flowing again.

"Yes, but you have to stop!" I gasped.

Her hand continued their torture. "I am wet, you know, soaking wet; I can feel it running down my thighs."

I reached forward and pried her hand off my cock, totally against my will off course. My balls were aching like mad.

My body is in a serious demand for self-gratification, as in now!

"That's it, it was long enough."

She pouted her lips, "It was too quick, less than a minute."

"It would have taken only a minute to…," I stammered.

"To come?" she smiled.

"You are terrible! I am going to get dressed." I scooped up the towel and made my way towards my room. Each step, made me painfully aware of my need.

"Don't worry," shouted Karen, "I will get my own, I will buy one!"

I flopped down onto the bed and caressed my aching balls carefully.

Ah, that feels much better! Fuck this, I have to indulge in a little of self-manipulation,

I thought as I cradled my cock. The image of her bulging wetness, draped over my shaft, sent a spasm along my cock. I stroke my cock vigorously until my warm semen pulsated across my torso.

That feels so much better,

I thought while I milked the last drop out of my cock. I grabbed the towel and stood up.

"Oh, so that is how you do it!" Karen said with amazement.

"Karen! What…are you doing here?" I said exasperated, my face flushed bright red.

"Just watching," she said and winked. "I hope you have a shower before you get dressed and don't forget who does the laundry." She turned around and disappeared from the door.

"Little bitch!" I uttered softly.

Since that day, I remained careful, dodging her approaches, whether it was physical or any verbal conversation directed to sex. Occasionally, I caught myself fantasizing about her hand around my cock, and then discarding these thoughts quickly and with great difficulty. The situation calmed itself after a month or so. Karen directed all her energy into her studies.

Unbeknown to me at the time, she somehow managed to purchase a vibrator. I mistakenly found the object when she asked for a project folder she kept in her bag. A tinge of childish-envy filled me as I inspected the seven inches, silver-coloured, offending object.

O well, at least she is practicing safe sex,

I hoped

.

* * *

Karen often travelled down to the Gulf to visit her Grandma. This gave her the opportunity to visit the sea turtles. She embraced the project with fervour where she joined the ranks of other volunteers, offering most of her free time trying to understand the ways of sea turtles and save them from extinction.

The local council protected that part of the beach quite well. During my own studies, I have spent a lot of time down there collecting live marine specimens for university studies. Karen arrived one rainy night whilst I and some other volunteers were busy tagging the turtles. The experience of witnessing the turtles pouring out of the surf in wave after wave through the darkness had her totally enthralled. Since then, she spent most of her holiday breaks to help.

All sea turtles come to shore to lay eggs, but for most it is a relatively solitary affair, unless it is a '

la arribada

'—the arrival, where thousands of sea turtles can congregate on a small stretch of beach. It was a breathtaking event to see. It was hard to remember that sea turtles are in serious trouble. Even without human interference, a mere four to eight percent of these eggs will hatch.

We drove to college in my old battered 1968 Volkswagen. Karen continued babbling about our forthcoming holiday. She was unlike most girls at her age. Instead of spending her holidays with her friends, she rather dedicated herself to numerous environmental causes. Although she kept most of her private life to herself, she had a few casual relationships, nothing long-term. Maybe it was the fear of loosing them, a reminder to the loss of her father at the young age of ten.

Only a few people at college knew that we were related, distant cousins more like it. My step-aunt favoured our relationship, her way to make up for Karen's loss. I inadvertently became her father figure, someone she trusted with the innocents of a child.