I Want to Go to the Beach

This is a sequel of sorts to my "All Bets Are Off" stories. It was originally in a larger piece of forthcoming work, but I decided to focus on some elements, and it became its own story. It takes place after "All Bets Are Off" and before "There's Something Beautiful..."

My thanks to neuroparenthetical for their editing work. All mistakes and poor choices are my own.

I Want To Go To the Beach

I walked into my mom's home office. "Everything is done. I'm going out for the day."

"Where?" she asked, not looking at me as she typed. She had her dark blonde hair pulled up in a bandana and was biting a pencil, which was a sign she was deep into 'work mode.'

"The beach," I said.

That time, she looked up. "John, it's February."

"I know, but it is quieter than in the summer. And a storm is coming in." I loved storm watching. "I'll be home tonight."

"Are you taking Natalie?"

"No," I said, with evident frustration. "She has family in town. We had dinner with them last night, but they want her to take them sightseeing." As if our small town had sights to see.

"I'm sorry," she said, looking back at her computer. "Then take your sister."

"Seriously?" I asked, a whine in my voice.

"Yes, seriously. With Natalie and you gone, she is going to drive me nuts. She is as stir-crazy as you are." She looked back up at me. "Honey, I'm sorry, but the Leifson case just fell apart, and I will be working all weekend trying to salvage it. Grab forty dollars out of my purse to feed her, and you have Dad's credit card if there are any emergencies. Please, John -- you would really be helping me out. And Kaleigh."

I huffed out a mouthful of air. "Fine, but you owe me a big one."

"Thanks, honey," she said as I left the room.

I walked into my sister's room, where she was packing her backpack. "She told me to take you with me," I said, "Just like you said she would."

She whooped, then hipped the door closed -- just on the off chance that Mom decided to check in on us. Then she slid her arms around my neck. The kiss was hot, deep, and decidedly unsisterly. "Let's go to the beach, big brother."

***

The ride down was uneventful, but lovely. It was clear out, and warm in the car. Kayleigh had her red hair in twin braids, and was mindlessly playing with them as she looked out the window. She had commandeered the radio in the Mustang, which was of a much newer vintage than any other part of it, and was playing music from her phone, regularly switching to a new song when the one playing was about halfway through. I'd used to hate that, but I'd found my patience for it had expanded greatly when she'd started fucking me the previous year.

I glanced over at my sister for the thousandth time. She was cute, with a capital "C." She had big blue eyes, freckles over her nose, and a pretty mouth that loved to smile and that I loved to kiss. Add to that alabaster skin all over and a further sprinkling of freckles, and you had our little pixie. She was dressed for the car trip, not the Oregon coast, in a pair of shorts that she pulled indecently high on the leg until they were about even with her panties. She was short, maybe a bit over 5'1, but her legs were outstanding, strong, smooth, and sexy, just like the rest of her. I couldn't see it from there, but her ass was spectacular, taut and muscular. I'd actually developed a bit of an obsession with it, but it wasn't even close to her only asset. She wore a tight t-shirt with no bra. She said it was because her boobs were so small. I didn't care, and neither did Natalie. We thought they were adorable and delicious.

To the outside world, Natalie was my girlfriend. The reality was both more complex and more wonderful. She was our girlfriend -- my sister's and mine. We were still in negotiations on what to call ourselves, besides a "polyamorous grouping," which was accurate, but sounded like something from Kaleigh's freshman-level sociology class. Kaleigh had also nixed "The Trio" because of some old show she loved. "Throuple" had been voted down immediately by all of us. I liked

"la cosa nostra,"

or "our thing," but Natalie had said it made us sound like the mob. It was a work in progress.

The three of us had been together since last November, when Natalie and Kaleigh had conspired to have my sister suck my dick. It had gotten complicated, then simpler, and I'd ended up with two girlfriends and they with both a girlfriend and a boyfriend. The secrets kept things full of twists and turns, but we were all deeply in love with each other, and I wouldn't have given it up for the world. Oh, and the sex was incredible.

The trip had been Natalie's idea, at least from the start. She and I could be together openly. Kaleigh and I, for obvious reasons, could not -- at least not around town -- so we were changing venues, to the coast, some two or three hours from our small hometown.

We pulled into Seaside before 10 AM, which was good timing. Though it was off season, the town was busy enough that I had to park in a small lot off the main strip. I got out while Kaleigh pulled a pair of thick sweats over her shorts. It was still clear, but chilly. I handed her a hoodie, which she put on as well, and we walked the short walk into the heart of the beach town.

The main strip of Seaside was built for teenagers -- teenagers in the summer, primarily, but it was still popular enough that most of the stores opened, at least on the weekend. There were shops everywhere, with different ones specializing in both high end or cheap crap, and a few with both. There were little holes-in-the-wall, with souvenirs alongside t-shirts with pot references or bad double entendres. Little restaurants. Bigger restaurants. Caramel corn places. An old arcade, with a Tilt-A-Whirl ride and bumper cars. At night, kids cruised their cars up and down the street, and as long as things didn't get out of hand, the cops let them be.

There were a reasonable number of tourists on the sidewalks passing both ways. Most were warmly bundled. There was no bad weather in the northwest, just different ways to dress. We were walking and pointing out things in various store windows when I realized that we were still acting like siblings. I turned to her, grinning like a great big loon. She looked up, her face marred by confusion. I put my hands on either side of her face and brought her mouth to mine. She froze for a minute, then completely melted to me. The kiss was warm, and complete, and our very first one in a public place.

It was very public, in fact, so we broke it off because that was creepy, but she threw herself into my arms, holding me tightly. She was shaking and crying, but laughing, too. I took her hand, and we walked down the street, just like any other couple in town would have. It was nearly intoxicating.

I found a small alley between two closed stores and pulled her in. Laughing, she crushed herself to my chest, wrapping her arms around me. I smiled at her and ran my thumb down her face. Then I curved it under her chin, tilting it up to me. I fell into the crystal blue of her eyes, and her grin fell away. "I just want to say," I said, my voice all low and serious, "that I love you more than I could ever put into words. You are the most important thing to me in this world."

"Along with Natalie," she said, and I smiled, because there was no hint of jealousy. It was simply true, at least to her.

The most amazing thing about our three-way relationship to me had been, for lack of a better word, the balance of it all. I loved Natalie completely. I loved Kaleigh completely. And there was no contradiction at all. It just was.

"Along with Natalie," I agreed. I brought my mouth slowly, gently to hers. The kiss started slow, sweet, and gentle, with lips softly upon lips. My hand moved to cup the back of her head as she placed hers on my chest. It was like a first kiss, even though it wasn't -- not even in some new, made-up category. Our first kiss had been hot and hard, and I wouldn't have traded it for the world. It was nice to get a taste of the other path, though -- another way it might have gone. After a few minutes, I opened her mouth with my own, and our tongues met in the middle, dancing. After several more moments, I broke the kiss to look around. We were both breathing hard.

The rain that had been threatening was slowly arriving, and there were fewer people on the sidewalk; many had retreated into various stores. I pushed her a little deeper into the alcove and kissed her again.

"I can't believe we are kissing in public," she whispered in my ear. "I am so turned on right now." She kissed me again, then pulled my ear to her mouth. "Kiss me, big brother."

I laughed and stroked a hand over her cheek. Her eyes were bright -- almost feverish -- and she was pressing her body hard to mine. "I think we had better stick to 'John' and 'Kaleigh' right now," I said in a whisper of my own, "until I get you alone."

She shivered, and I pulled her back into yet another kiss. After making sure there was no one around us, I slipped my hand into her sweats to grab her ass through her shorts. As I gave it a firm squeeze, she moaned into my mouth.

Turnabout being fair play, her hand found its way to my ass, too.

We broke apart, laughing, and our kiss turned to a massive hug. "I think I lose time when we kiss," I said.

"If we keep this up," she said, "you are going to end up fucking me in an alley, and that is not happening." She pressed her head against my chest. "This isn't fair. I wanted to be out here with you, but now I want to go home so you can bang me silly."

I sipped my arm over her shoulder, kissed her dark red hair, and maneuvered us back onto the sidewalk. "Let's go shopping to take your mind off it."

We went from shop to shop, all of them getting a little steamy inside with the rain falling, and had a wonderful time: holding hands, stealing kisses, and finding all sorts of other ways to let people know we were boyfriend and girlfriend -- for example, saying things like, "My boyfriend likes this shirt on me; what do you think?" or "My girlfriend wants to see that hat; can you hand it to us, please?" It was romantic, fun, and so fucking normal.

Through it all, an idea began to germinate.

We were standing at one of the few bus stops with a cover, and I kissed her. "It's raining pretty good right now," I said as our lips separated. "Why don't I go get the car and pick you up here?"

"I have the most thoughtful boyfriend," she said with a grin and another quick kiss. "Go."

As I walked, I pulled out my cell phone. "Dad," I said, "I have a small emergency."

My father exhaled audibly. "What's up?"

"Mom wanted us out of our hair," I began, "so I took Kaeligh to Seaside." That was almost completely true. "But there might be an issue with the Mustang." Before he could interrupt, I said, "I can cover whatever needs to be done, but the parts might not be in until tomorrow morning." Uncertainties were wonderfully not-false. There could possibly be an issue with my car, and it could possibly be the next day before parts arrived, were there any parts that needed to be ordered.

My dad was quiet for a moment, then said, "Okay, get a room on the card. But John? As cheap as you can find, please. One bed, and you sleep on the couch, or sleep in the bathtub, okay?"

"Kaleigh would fit in the bathtub better," I said.

"Do not make your sister sleep in the bathtub," he said with finality.

"Fine, I won't." We both laughed. "I'll let you know if anything changes."

"You do that. Be safe. Goodbye."

"Bye, Dad," I said, hanging up and quickly pulling up a website. I had to hurry.

Cannon Beach is another tiny town further south along the Oregon coast. It survived on tourist dollars, much like Seaside, but they'd gone in something of a different direction. The town council had a reputation as a bit Draconian, but you had to appreciate the results: there were no fast food joints, and only one gas station that was run by a townie. There were shops with the same cheap crap, but the buildings themselves were better kept both inside and outside, and with muted advertising. There were restaurants, coffee houses, book stores, candy shops, and cannabis dispensaries, and all of them were subtle, neat, and clean. Many of the shops were in little clusters that hid some of them from the road, and grass-lined paths meandered around to link them all. If Seaside was made for teenagers, Cannon Beach was made for romantics. The four of us had used to stay down there for vacations when we'd been kids. Washington's coast was closer to our town, but Oregon's was just more accessible.

Thanks to the stormy weather -- and the off season, of course -- I was able to get street parking -- something you'd have to sell your soul for in the summer months. As we walked down the sidewalks, we kept pointing out shops that had been there when we'd been ten years younger. I had given her one of my hoodies -- they seem to accumulate in my trunk -- to replace her wet one, which was laying across the car seats to dry. Zipped up to her chin, it fell almost to her knees, and she looked adorable. I had my arm around her shoulder, and she had reached up to hold my hand as well. I felt as good as I ever had in my life.

"That's where the kite shop used to be," I said. "I think it moved."

"Oh! The Kite of Doom," she said with a laugh.

Years before -- Kaleigh couldn't have been more than seven or eight -- we'd been staying down there on a very blustery weekend, and my father had been struck by the idea that we should all get kites.

"Oh, no," he'd told Mom. "I flew kites all the time as a kid. It will be fun." The two of us kids had been jumping up and down in joy, so kites it had been. My sister had chosen a little thing -- a standard kite-shaped one with either a butterfly or Pegasus on it. We never could agree, remembering it later. I'd selected the ever-popular Bat Kite -- black plastic, shaped somewhat like a gigantic bat, and graced with a massive, bloodshot eye on each wing that was easily visible from the ground.

My father had chosen a huge, chartreuse parafoil. It had looked like a rectangular parachute, or like the parasails they use to launch tourists in the air behind boats. It'd had a pair of control lines rather than just the one, and the kite guy had said it was easy to control and do tricks with. It had looked sleek and futuristic, and we couldn't wait to see it fly.

To everyone's surprise save her own, Kaleigh's kite had gone up without a hitch. It had been dancing on the wind, and she had been delighted with herself.

One of the reasons for the Bat Kite's popularity was how easy it was to fly, and I'd soon been whooping and hollering as it had gone higher and higher. My father, however, had not been having as much fun. Mom had been holding the kite, just as the instructions had said. "Okay, now," my father had called out to her, and she'd tossed it straight up. It had made a beautiful start; then, anchored by my father on the control lines, it had performed a perfect arc to slam back into the sand. "Dammit," Dad had yelled, and we'd giggled.

"Daddy said a bad word," Kaleigh had sung at the top of her lungs.

They'd tried again, and again, and again. As they definitely must say sometimes, the seventh time had been the charm, and he'd finally gotten it flying. My father had always seemed to be a serious giant to me when I'd been little. He was tall -- even when I was twenty, he had an inch or so on me -- and had always looked like he had things under control. But there he'd been, red hair flying in the wind, blue eyes a little wild, and grinning like he was one of us kids. He never had gotten it to do the tricks he'd wanted, but it had flown beautifully.

We'd called it the "Kite of Doom" because it really needed a name, and we'd been stupid kids. It had stuck, and it was a wonderful memory.

Kaleigh got up on her toes and kissed my cheek. The incoming storm couldn't touch us, wrapped in a blanket of nostalgia, joy, and love.

We had lunch on the covered rooftop of a fish and chips place, huddled around a roaring gas fireplace. We were the only two to brave the weather, but the metal roof deflected most of the rain. It was high enough up that we could see the ocean over the tops of the other stores. The storm, which had been threatening all day, looked like it was going to hit soon. There were no trawlers or sightseeing boats on the water, only waves and gulls.

The food was outstanding, fresh, and delicious, but I wasn't thinking about it, or the weather, or the gulls who tried to claim our meal every time we looked away. I was thinking about later. Still, it was delightful to talk, laugh, and be able to reach out and touch each other without fear. Though I was distracted, it was one of the few perfect meals I've ever had, and one that I'm sure I'll remember forever.

Before heading to the car, we stopped and got hot chocolate to take the chill off. After that, our kisses tasted of chocolate, and we kissed a lot on the short walk to where I was parked. I opened her door for her, then got in myself just as the trailing edge of the storm struck. The wind picked up, and the rain started coming down in sheets.

Kaleigh beamed at me. "Perfect timing," she said. "This was a perfect day, John." She leaned back and put her feet up on the dashboard. "Now take me home and fuck me silly." I looked over, and she was gazing at me intently, a wicked smile on her sweet face. "I want you to fucking pound me, John. Pound. Me. Fuck me to heaven and back." Then she closed her eyes and smiled. "Just a thought to keep you warm as you drive."

I slipped her feet off my dashboard before starting the car. I didn't say a word. I just matched her smile with one of my own.

As I pulled into the small parking lot, Kaleigh looked around, startled. "What did you do, big brother?" she asked as I parked in front of the motel office. I winked, then led her into the small, well-lit room. She had a smile plastered on her face as she looked around.

"I'll be right back," I told her, and she kissed me warmly before looking at a rack of flyers for local attractions.

I walked to the counter. "Hi," I said. "We kinda got stuck with the storm. I have a room under O'Connor."

The man behind the counter wore a dark, warm-looking cable-knit sweater. With his graying hair and short beard, all he needed was a pipe to complete the fisherman look. "Yes, sir," he said as he showed me where to sign the old-fashioned registry. He glanced down where I had written "Kaleigh and John O'Connor," then glanced at Kaleigh, who looked to be making a tea for each of us. "Been married long?"

I looked up quickly, then smiled. "We made it official in November," I said. He nodded, looking back at his computer.

"We have you down for one of our economy ocean view rooms," he said. I had tried to follow my dad's request to keep the cost down. It would be just a bed, a bathroom, a hot plate, and a window that looked out over the ocean, but it would give us another night and day together, so it was the Four Seasons to me.

"It just so happens," he said, "that you are the only guests we have tonight." I started to apologize, but he shook his head. "It's fine, son. I'm just giving you the lay of the land. This is an older place. We just renovated in the fall, but she still tends to lose power in the storms." He put a box on the counter with a kerosene lantern and some candles. Looking at me, he reached down and added a box of toothpaste and two toothbrushes. "These are if the power goes out -- or 'when,' I should say.

"Now, I said we have you down for the economy ocean view, but that unit doesn't have a fireplace, and it wouldn't really be comfortable without one." He took a key off the hook on the wall and slid it to me. "This one has a fireplace. I'm just charging you for the economy."