Solamente Una Vez

The slow, regular rhythm of the waves breaking against the sandy beach soothed her soul. She let her mind go slack. The sound and motion of the waves mesmerized her. The sun was warm on her skin and the breeze off the ocean licked at her, providing just the right amount of cooling.

Shannon sat in the tidewater facing the sea, letting each wave wash over her splayed legs, push against her groin and belly, sometimes floating her and moving her a few inches up the beach. She let just enough of her consciousness leak into her arms to raise her hands from the sand when a wave broke over her knees. It was a friendly game of 'push me' she was playing with the sea. She watched the foamy, sand-filled water slap at her bare abdomen above the top of her bikini bottom. Shannon was a pretty woman with close cropped brown hair, small even facial features that caused men to gaze at her and a finely turned body that went well in anything from a bikini to a business suit.
Eighty meters from shore the 22-foot trihull with separate fore and aft bimini tops bucked and yawed at anchor. The aft bimini was up -- shade for the occupants of the boat though at the moment there were none. The forward bimini was furled about its bows and neatly cased in its zippered cover of the same royal blue canvas.

Her reverie was slightly infiltrated by another consciousness. It grew steadily stronger. Soon the intensity enveloped her and she knew she could not resist the force that tugged at every cell of her being. He stood a few feet to her left, his hazel eyes assessing and caressing every inch of her. She was not offended or embarrassed when his eyes rested on the firm roundness of her breasts, barely concealed by the brief bikini top. Shamelessly, she rounded her shoulders to give him a better view. He smiled. Though his lips never moved and the words did not come to her via her ears, she heard him say, "Come with me."

He moved into the water, wading up to his chest and launched himself toward the pitching boat. Clearly he was a good swimmer as his arms and shoulders settled into the task, the sea boiling about his feet as his flutter kick helped to propel him.

She followed.

The stern of the boat was pitching wildly. Watching carefully she saw him time his approach to the transom, position his legs and feet so the boarding platform would rise under him. With ease he caught the step and was lifted up and stepped aboard.

She did the same thing and found herself standing in the cockpit only a few inches from him. He had already shucked his suit and was naked in the bright shade of the aft bimini top. There were no spoken words. It was a mind to mind connection, as if the thought flowed through their eyes. First her top and then the brief bottom, she peeled away her concealment and stood bare and proud before him.

He took her hand and lead her to sunlight in the seats near the bow. His first touch of her was to her arms and legs, smoothing and spreading the sea water so it would evaporate more quickly. She did the same with him.

His hand started at her throat, moved over her hard left nipple, across her quivering belly and into the crease where her right thigh met her abdomen. She issued a moan and her eyes looked blindly into the sky. His other hand moved slowly down the other side of her body, caressing the inward curve of her waist and then the flair of her hip and thigh.

He took her hand again and slowly moved to the center of the forward cockpit. After doing a half turn so he was facing her, he settled onto the narrow end of a large ice chest. Still holding her hand he pulled her closer to him. The boat pitched and yawed in the two-foot swells. Her legs were spread to aid her in maintaining her balance. She kept her eyes fixed to his when she felt his free hand begin to stroke the insides of her thighs. She knew she was being seduced by the handsome man who held her hand. She wanted him to move his hand higher, to begin to tantalize her vaginal lips and use his thumb to gently knead her clit. Only a few seconds later he began doing exactly that. How could it be? Was she in a dream? Were they communicating by some sort of medium that only existed between total strangers of the opposite sex on an idyllic beach in San Carlos, Mexico?

Even in the cockpit there was enough breeze to let her know she was wet with desire. Leaning forward she put her free hand on his shoulder. He let go of her hand and she knew what to do. She took his half hard penis in her hand and began to rhythmically squeeze and release it in exactly twice the beat the waves were rocking the boat. Bent at the waist as she was made keeping her balance more difficult...she was barely managing it using her hand on his shoulder for support while she squeezed him fully hard.

Their faces were close. The sound she made when he slipped two fingers up into her was something between a grunt and a giggle. Next he cupped his free hand to the back of her neck and put his legs together. Using both hands he began to pull her to him. She spread her legs further and took tiny, shuffling steps, bending her knees more and more until the erect penis in her hand touched her juicy lips.

A small smile touched her lips as she let just the tip enter her. With each wave that pitched the boat she took in another inch of him. It was excruciatingly slow since the rolling swells were several seconds apart. She squalled her delight as he totally filled her. They stayed fully coupled for some time. Now and then she muscled her thighs to rise away from him, only to be surprised as the swelling sea drove the boat and him deep into her.

Time stood still for them. There was no world beyond the two of them. It was as perfect a union of mind and body as either of them had ever experienced. There still had not been a single word spoken between them.

She had both arms around his neck and both of his held her in a hug as they experimented with various tensions in their bodies. Both became aware of their slowly growing fatigue. She leaned back from him and sucked in her breath as she thrust her hard-nippled breasts toward him. Both his thumbs and forefingers toyed with and then pinched her nipples. There eyes caught and he gave one long nod just before his eyes moved to where they were still fully coupled.

Both her eyes and her hand moved to the same view and she began stimulating the marble of swollen tissue just above where his stiff staff was in her. At first she growled and hissed. The man who was in her nodded slowly again and again until she let out one long chattering moan and froze as orgasm gripped her from head to toe. A few seconds later she collapsed against him, slowly slid down his thighs to a kneeling position and took his gleaming hard penis in her mouth.

Her head bobbed for a few seconds and then she began the long, earnest swallowing strokes. Less than thirty seconds later he roared as his hips bucked and he shot his semen down her throat.

Then they sat together on one of the cushioned seats and kissed for the first and last time. There was no need to speak. It was a peak experience that would only be diminished by words.

They both redressed in cold, wet swim suits. For one last moment their eyes met and they exchanged perfect smiles, knowing they would never see each other again. She dove off the boarding platform and was invigorated by the coolness of the water. He let her get halfway to shore before he followed.

Shannon let the waves carry her the last few yards until she was bumping along the sandy bottom on her breasts, belly and knees. She rolled over onto her back and crab-walked on her hands and heels to where the waves would just run up her thighs and slap her flat, hard belly and then drop sandy water and foam where her sex was. She turned slowly and observed two pre-teen boys romping in the surf perhaps fifty meters away. They were her sons. She turned further and saw her husband in the shade of a palm frond cabana still engrossed in his paperback book.

Turning the other way, she saw a lean, muscular, handsome man walk out of the surf. He seemed vaguely familiar. He nodded to her and then directed his attention to a woman and two children, a boy and a girl, who had come down to the beach from the resort hotel. All four of them paused for a moment and then moved into the surf. The little girl put her arms around the man's neck once they were in the water and rode him all the way to the trihull anchored eighty meters from shore. The boy was old enough and strong enough to make the swim himself but only under the watchful eye of his mother. Once all were on board, the woman went to the bow and gathered in the anchor line as the man kept the craft headed into the wind. Once the anchor was on board and stowed and all were seated, she saw the speed increase and the trihull threw spray as it headed away from her toward the horizon.

Was it all a dream, a fantasy a flight of imagination? Was it just a moment in time? Did it happen? Was the salty taste on the back of her tongue his semen or just sea water? Had she ever moved from this place where the sea waves break across her knees, slap her belly and swirl sand and foam at her sex?

Whether it was or wasn't is something to be studied. It's the kind of thing that happens only once. The Mexicans have a term for it...'So la men tay una vez'.

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