The Beach

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He watches lovely blonde in the moonlight.
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The moon rose full and bright over the quiet beach house. It's light glinted off the wall of windows that faced the surf, breaking frothy and white under the moon. The waves were gentle on this still night and the sea slipped in smoothly over the white sand, running up the beach and around the concrete pillars that supported the house above.

The beach was empty for miles in either direction save for this lone house secluded in the back of a slight inlet. A man stood at the top of the bluff overlooking the bungalow. His white t-shirt, stretched tightly over his muscular body, glared brightly in the full moon. He had taken to coming here on moonlit nights to watch the ocean continue its quest to drown the earth. It was a refuge, his secret place. The house was always waiting on him, seeming to glow with warmth when he arrived, never disappointing him, never cajoling him when he had been away too long. She had always been alone, vacant until tonight.

He stood atop a small bluff and looked at the faint glow of candlelight flickering in the one-roomed home. He could see little from where he stood but he knew that tonight, he could not sit alone on the covered balcony. There would be no quiet reflection, no comforting solitude. He was angered at the intruder, the one who had raped his lonely love.

Familiar steps led him quietly to the house's upper end where he slipped silently onto the balcony and moved to the southern side window. He pulled his white t-shirt off of his body, letting his deeply tanned skin slip him into the shadows of the night, and peered carefully into the house. There had always been the ghosts of furniture covered carefully by white, but tonight, the room was colored, the sheets removed. And there were candles lit throughout, their light fluttering across the room, over the wooden floors and the faded, colored rugs. The man's eyes searched the furniture, the plush couches and Victorian Chairs, over the bed, whose sheets were tossed and disturbed, to the dining table, the empty bar...nothing.

His eyes returned to the center table covered with glowing candles and then settled to a large jaguar cape that stretched across the wood floor. The animal's angry head still snarled out the eastern windows, his lush coat stretched out smooth and flat behind him. There, stretched languorously atop the cape, as wild and catlike as the fur itself, was the naked body of a woman lost in obvious ecstasy.

His eyebrows lifted slightly as he realized what was going on before him. The woman's knees where bending and writhing as one long, supple arm disappeared into the valley of her lust. Her head was cast back, her eyes closed, her shortened blonde hair disarrayed and blending into the jaguar's cape. Her second arm cradled her ample breasts, her fingers pulling and massaging an engorged nipple. He watched as her knees parted and she began to buck gently on her wild bed. From his view above her head, he could only see the back of her hand working desperately at her sex.

Through the thick panes of glass came the distinct sound of her cries, rising louder now as her thighs began to twitch and her head jerked upward. He felt his own neglected member stiffening uncomfortably against his khaki shorts. He touched himself quickly, adjusting his hardening shaft to stand upward, allowing the head to protrude above the waistband to accommodate its growth, as was his habit when he was alone and lost in his fantasies.

The woman had abandoned herself to her ecstasy now and was writhing wildly over the jaguar cape. The silent animal was screaming past the silent watcher as it seemed to espouse the very cries of pleasure that echoed faintly through the house.

He felt an aching begin in his testicles as his cock strained upward, thrusting against his rippled stomach as he huddled under the window.

In a moment, she was silent. Her body relaxed and she cast one arm outward, the other still covering her heaving breasts. Her legs were thrown open away from the man in the window and there was only the motion of her breathing, the rising tide of her breasts. In a moment, she rose slowly and he stared at her naked beauty as she walked away from him. He watched the motion of her hips and the slight tremor of her shaped ass. He stared deeply between her moving legs and found the tiny space of air where her inner thighs turned in slightly before meeting her sex. She leaned over, bending her body away from his eyes, presenting him with an unobstructed view of her naked sex, her pussy glistening wet, almost oozing with her come, and above, her darkened anus opened itself to his hungering eyes.

He felt his cock stirring and he opened his shorts under the window and as he stared at her exposed body, he pulled his thick, curving member from his underwear and grasped it with his fingers, encircling the thick shaft and stroking it softly. It rose continually higher and he began to quicken his movement, his hand becoming a blur on his cock. He was amused somewhat that there was a women just inside that had no idea that he was watching her, lusting after her, masturbating hungrily over her.

She picked up a white robe from the floor and stood, casting it over her shoulders and hiding her nudity from him. She threaded her way carefully through the furniture to the patio door. The glass slid effortlessly aside and she stepped through into the warm Florida night. She walked to the balcony railing and leaned over it, bracing her arms, palms downward and resting her body on one leg.

He watched her through the house, the southern window giving him clear sight through the house to the eastern glass and the oceanfront balcony. Her back was to him. Her disheveled blonde hair wavered tightly in the ocean breeze and she ran a hand absently through it, trailing her fingers down the back of her neck, over her shoulder, disappearing from his view. Her arm stayed bent and her elbow continued to move. He was certain that her hand had found her full breasts.

He closed his shorts over his erect cock and slipped back over the balcony and moved behind the house, circling around in the high, wild grass of the dunes, down to the front of the house. He was in a cluster of grass near the ocean front of the house now. He saw her clearly, a scant 20 feet above him. Her hand was inside her robe and as he watched, she pulled her robe aside, hooking it behind the round swell of her breast and caressing the stiffened, dark nipples. He loosed his shorts again and his hand encircled his twitching cock again. The moon was a spotlight on her sexual activity. He briefly thought that its brightness might betray him but he just as quickly realized that he had nothing to fear from discovery. And then the realization hit him with its full weight.

There was nothing, no one, not for miles. Only this private, secluded beach house, its sexual dreamer and himself, powerful man, comfortable in his element and throbbing with desire. His mind began to race.

She startled him momentarily when she cast her robe off again, fully naked in the moonlight. She draped the white cloth over the railing and stepped smooth and elegant, with the power of beauty, to the stone stairway that led down to the sand. Her steps carried her a scant distance from the man's hiding place as she passed on her way to the surf. He watched her breasts moving slightly with her steps and then she was in the ocean. She plunged in and began to swim. Her body seemed to belong in the sea, she seemed to merge with the gently rolling waves and he watched her legs kicking smooth and strong as she headed out.

He was calm again, even angry that his excitement had been forced to abate, but his mind was still exploring his thoughts as he took in the events. He knew that he wanted her, to feel her breasts flattened against his hard chest, to run his fingers through her blonde hair, to feel her strong thighs wrapped around his waist, to feel the heat of her sex enveloping him.

She was returning and on a whim, he stood and moved down the beach and then turned and walked along the surf. He was walking slowly down the beach as she emerged from the water. He had been careful to place himself between her and the beach house so that she would notice him at the same time that he came upon her. He heard her gasp as her eyes found his dark figure in the moonlight. He turned and looked at her, feigning surprise. She collapsed to her knees, the ocean washing around her waist. He briefly noted that her arms did not cover her breasts and the nipples were straining from her skin from the cool water.

"Hello!" he said. "I didn't know anyone lived in this bungalow!"

She was staring at him, her eyes taking him in. His chest tensed and then bulged, his stomach muscles rippling tightly under her appraisal, and he briefly worried about the appearance of his roughly cropped hair and two days growth of scruff.

"Hello," she managed. "I am only here for a few weeks. Summering, you know. What are you doing here?"

He noted that her voice was quivering but he was unsure if it was from the cold sea, embarrassment at being caught naked, or fear.

He made a pretense of looking around the sand.

"I don't seem to see a robe of any sort here," he said.

She nodded at the balcony. He walked to the steps, climbed the balcony and retrieved her robe.

"I walk this beach every night," he said as he walked back to where she knelt in the surf. He stopped still several feet shy of her, pretending to be against getting his shorts wet, and held her robe out.

She stared at him and in the moonlight, he thought he saw a wild look of angry nervousness. She didn't move. He smiled and turned his back to her, still holding the robe out to his side. He stared at the beach house as he waited. The robe was taken from his fingers and in a moment she was by him, covered in white which shined in the moonlight, and hurrying toward the steps. She stopped at the bottom and turned around to look at him again.

"How did you find this place?" She asked.

"I'm an offshore fishing guide," he said. "This little inlet is quite a haven for the fish."

She seemed annoyed by this and in a quiet voice said, "And to think of the money I paid for a secluded place."

The man looked at the moon and smiled, his white teeth shining brightly. "I wouldn't worry that much about visitors."

"I've only been here a night and already I have a visitor!" she replied with some bitterness.

He laughed lightly. "I'm sorry if I startled you," he said. "How long did you say you were you staying? I can certainly stay away..."

"No," she interrupted. "The beach belongs to no one," she said. "I'll just have to be a little more careful of my swims."

"Well, Miss..." he paused.

"Jill."

"Well, Jill, I wouldn't worry too much about any more visitors," he said. "I don't share places like this with anyone."

With that he turned to walk away, his white shirt tucked into the back of his shorts, billowing in the breeze.

"What outfitter did you say you were with?" she called to him, but his vanishing figure didn't reply.

Back inside the beach house, the woman stood in her robe and stared down the beach in the direction the man had gone. She remembered his ragged, dark hair, his rough face, the lean form of his body, his broad, tanned shoulders and thick arms, the muscles obvious even in the dark. Deep in her body, she felt a slight weakness fluttering quietly through her as she remembered his eyes, their whites shining in the moon as he stared at her nude breasts while she crouched in the surf. Her nipples stiffened and pushed against her robe and she tried to push her desire back as she locked the patio door securely and moved to the bed.

Outside, in the darkness of the southern side of the bungalow, the man watched her slip out of her robe and into the bed.

***

The next night found Jill sitting on the porch of her beach house, washed in the light of the moon again. Her body was clad in a silken white bikini, making her skin appear dark against its sharp contrast. Her shoulders were cast back as she leaned against the glass wall and her breasts swelled upward, threatening to breach the clinging suit. She lightly touched the smooth skin of her inner breasts as she waited and watched the empty beach.

On the bluff behind her, the previous evening's visitor stood in the warm breeze and watched her. He dropped down the opposite side and headed to the beach, then turned and walked in the direction of the house.

Jill saw his figure appear from behind the bluff's tapered end as he moved slowly toward her. She watched his body moving in the light of the moon, and as he came closer, she eyed him, the V-shape of his torso to his lean waist and then the swell of his thighs. Her nipples began to stiffen again under the thin fabric of her bikini and she uncrossed and then crossed her legs to ease the tingle of her sex. She thought of opening herself to him, baring her body and letting him use her with his brute, animal strength. She felt her body heating and her nether lips were moistening as he came closer.

She saw his teeth shining again as he smiled and she stood and tried to compose herself. She knew that her nipples were obvious and thrusting long and hard through her suit. She only hoped that her bikini could contain the thin line of wetness that she felt threatening the thin fabric of her thong.

"You did say that the beach was free," he said.

She nodded without smiling. "It is a good night," she said. "You never told me what outfitter you were with."

"My own," he said. "A small one. You wouldn't know it."

"I see," she said and her voice was laced with disappointment.

"Good evening," the man said and continued his walk.

She watched, somewhat relieved and yet disappointed as he moved away down the surf. Her eyes watched his strong back, then traveled down to his ass, sharply outlined in cutoff khakis. She touched a swelling breast, reaching under a cup to take a straining nipple between her fingers. She sat back down and placed her feet on the railing, elevating her knees. She stared at him until he disappeared in the darkness and her fingers trailed down to caress her moist sex through her suit. Stripping her bottoms down, she stood and walked down the steps, freeing her breasts with a pull of a string. She walked a short way down the sand and then laid down on the beach. The ocean washed onto the sand, rushing up past her feet, under her raised knees and then over her quivering sex as she worked her fingers against her clit. The water shocked her burning nerves, swirling around her back and hair, tickling her ass as it rushed back out to sea, carrying her own juices with it.

The man crouched in the grass a short distance away, having crept back to the beach house after slipping around the bluff. He watched her, his cock throbbing against his tense stomach. She had come into this place, not by his asking. She had interrupted his own private penance and intruded upon his relationship with this small world. He felt that she owed him some measure of pleasure for her time spent here. If he could not enjoy this place alone, he would enjoy this woman who shared it with him.

He steeled himself to move, reminding himself again that no one was within miles and then he crawled down the beach, slipping into the ocean. He moved out until he could keep his body concealed by the water and then moved parallel to the beach until he was directly offshore of the writhing woman. He turned his body toward her and waited. The wave came and he propelled himself into it, kicking with strong legs as the ocean picked him up and carried him to shore. He settled into the sand with his head only a few short feet from the woman's parted legs. He tossed his head to clear the water from his hair and face.

He watched the water rushing and bubbling around her sex, gushing into her. As the waves receded, her fingers were circling her clit quickly and he could see the glimmer of ocean water dribbling back out of her pussy. He was hungry now and he crept quickly forward, covering her body in a fluid motion, pinning her to the sand under his weight. Her right hand was trapped between their bodies. A hand covered her mouth, muffling her scream and the other captured her free arm, pinning her wrist down and holding her still with its strength. Her eyes were wide with fear, even though she immediately recognized him.

His lips were close to her ear as he held her wide eyes glued to his dark pupils.

"Think. Just think," he said and then was silent for a long moment.

"There is no one under this moon but you and I. You know that don't you?" he said.

She stared into his eyes.

"Don't you?"

She nodded quickly.

"You can scream, but it does you no good."

He pulled his hand away from her mouth slowly. He waited for her scream but it never came.

"Are you going to kill me?"

"I'm not a killer."

"What do you want?"

"I want my place back."

Jill was clinging to hope.

"Please! I'll leave! I can leave tonight!"

The man smiled above her. "It's too late for that. You've awakened a new desire in me." His hand reached underneath his body and covered her hand. He pushed her fingers back down until they had covered her inflamed pussy lips.

"Didn't you intend this for me tonight?" he asked. "You couldn't even wait for me to leave so that you could get your fingers into your pussy. Did you think I didn't notice your stare? You liked what you saw. And I liked what I found in this place, my place. The way you fucked yourself on the rug inside. The sea is a lonely companion, isn't she?"

"Please..." she said.

He smiled softly. "I want you. And I will have you. I don't want to hurt you, but I will do what I must to fill my need."

He rose off of her, careful to stay astride her midriff. He released her wrists and she lunged upward and slapped him. He smiled softly again.

"Look at me," he said quietly. "You can't hurt me. You can't overpower me. You can't escape me."

She stared at his body, gleaming wet in the moonlight, his powerful chest and shoulders, his heavy arms. She knew she was powerless and just as certainly, she found that this excited her.

"Will you run?" he asked, but she was silent.

"Will you run?"

She shook her head, her blonde hair matted by the sea washing around her.

He stood and offered her a hand. She refused and stayed on the sand but he held it out. She reached up to take it and he grasped her wrist, lifting her easily with one pull so that she almost came off the sand. He held her wrist a moment and then released her. She stood before him, trying not to tremble.

His eyes burned into her, lowering over her body, drinking in her breasts, their curves, the slope to her nipples which betrayed her by stiffening and protruding under his gaze. His eyes fell further to her stomach, then lower. She felt them invading her sex and she moved to cover herself but he shook his head.

"Turn around."

She turned slowly, offering her back to him. She felt a strong hand on her shoulder, dropping down her back, running down her spine with a surprising tenderness. It settled over the small of her back and then lower to caress her ass. His fingers came away covered in sand. He took her wrists and turned her around to face him. She tried to hide her fear by looking away as he backed slowly into the ocean, drawing her with him. The water coursed around their waists and he circled behind her.

His breath was hot in her ear as he told her, "Wash the sand away."

She lifted water from the sea to her stomach and sides in a nervous attempt. She was suddenly startled by the feeling of his body against her back. She felt his naked chest pressing into her back, and deeper, in the sea, she felt the thickness of his cock pressed against the valley of her ass. His hands were at her hips, pushing water upward and over her breasts. Her breath shortened as his hands cupped her flesh and caressed her softly. His large, callused hands were rough over her sensitive nipples that strained upward, but his touch sang of tenderness. It was a strange song in such a terrifying moment.

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