by Donald Wells
Lindsay laughs, which causes her breasts, still cupped in Jason’s hands, to jiggle. To Jason, it feels as if her breasts have come alive.
“Well you won’t be a virgin much longer. Take off your shoes.”
As she slips off her own, Jason scuffs out of his socks and shoes and removes his jeans.
Lindsay pulls down the covers and lies back across the bed. “If you don’t want to be naked alone help me off with these pants.”
Jason watches, captivated, as her breasts dance upon her chest. The muscles of her torso wriggle beneath her supple tanned flesh with every movement she makes, in an effort to unbutton her jeans.
Lindsay notices the look on his face. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re… you’re just so beautiful.”
With a shy smile she whispers. “Thank you.”
As Jason holds the cuffs of her pants, Lindsay manages to free herself from the skintight designer jeans and rests on the pillows lying against the headboard. She lies there naked, save for the delicate piece of pink cloth that composes her panties.
Jason stands at the foot of the bed still holding the jeans Lindsay vacated. He tosses them onto the growing pile of clothes and with a sudden leap, lands on the bed beside her.
“Whoa, you’re in a hurry big fella.”
“Damn straight.” Jason says.
Lindsay pulls at the waistband of his boxers. “Show me yours and I’ll show you mine.”
He rises from the bed, and after the slightest of hesitations, he removes the boxers and stands there naked. A look of lust washes across Lindsay.
“You have done a lot of growing this summer.”
Jason lies beside Lindsay and kisses her. Without removing his lips, he manages to breathe out. “It’s your turn.”
Lindsay breaks their embrace and in one quick motion, she’s naked. She pushes Jason onto his back, his long, muscular body stretching from footboard to headboard. Lindsay sets herself between Jason’s legs and faces him; the backs of her long legs touch the tops of his thighs. Jason raises his head off the pillows. He looks down below her waist, between her thighs, and views the inspiration of countless masturbatory sessions.
“Do you like what you see?” Lindsay asks, already knowing the answer. “I sure like what I see here.” She takes his penis in her hands and starts a gentle and steady stroking.
Jason has been half-aroused and half-filled with trepidation. The unfamiliar surroundings, the fear of rejection and a sense of wonder at the miracles and new emotions being felt have all combined to temper his lust, but at her touch, he experiences the fastest and most intense erection of his life.
“Oh, you’re happy now, aren’t you.” Lindsay says.
Oh God, that feels so good.
Until suddenly, horribly, it feels too good, too good too soon,
A husky, “Oh Lindsay stop,” is all he is able to croak out, and then the orgasm takes him in its grip and causes him to convulse with pleasure.
As the rapture leaves his body, a red-faced embarrassment quickly fills the vacuum left behind. He looks down at his crotch; the once proud pillar lies in a crumbled heap amid the debris of his excitement.
Jason moans. “Oh no,”
Years of desire, hope and yearning, all dashed by a moment’s rush of frailty. He steels himself for the look of displeasure he’s certain he’ll find on Lindsay’s face. He glances up at her and finds her red-faced, but her color is not caused by anger or embarrassment, it’s the consequence of trying to keep from laughing. When their eyes meet, Lindsay can contain it no longer and erupts in a mad outburst of laughter.
Jason is angry, yet it passes immediately as he realizes she’s not laughing at him, but simply at what has happened.
While still laughing, she points to his deflated penis.
“It just went—Boom!”
And now, Jason begins laughing also.
* * *
After cleaning up with a handy box of tissues, they lie in each other’s arms.
“I tried not to laugh.” Lindsay says. “I really did, but it was just so sudden, and then, boom.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He sulks.
“Don’t be mad… Boomer.”
“Oh no, don’t call me that.”
“Too late, that’s gonna be my pet name for you from now on.”
“Do me a favor and don’t ever explain to anyone how I got it, please?”
“I’ll be super discreet, your secret’s safe.” After saying this, Lindsay tickles his side in an effort to cheer him up.
“Stop!” Jason says while laughing. “How do you like it?” He hits the right spot and Lindsay is soon doubled up with a fit of giggling.
She cries, “Uncle!” and Jason stops tickling her, and starts kissing her.
She then caresses his penis, causing Jason to enjoy the second fastest erection of his life.
Lindsay whispers. “I think someone’s ready for a comeback.”
And they make love as only the very young can, because the very young are blessed with a soft ignorance, bereft of any sense of the bittersweet quality that all of life’s pleasures inherently possess.
2
Ocean Beach Island sits approximately one mile off the coast of New Jersey and is normally a quiet, Rockwellian town of nine thousand.
However, in the summer, it transforms into a fishing and sun-worshipping paradise whose beaches and waterways are invaded by vacationing hordes of tourists. Now, with summer ended, the quaint shops along the boardwalk close amid winter preparations and the final tallying of the season’s profits. On this first Sunday of October, the sun warms near empty beaches and the tourists are few.
The Island is returning to normal.
* * *
Adam Reynolds, dressed in robe and slippers, makes his way downstairs and opens the front door to look for his Sunday paper.
Adam retrieves it at the foot of the porch steps and, upon straightening up, he sees Lindsay walking toward him. She’s wearing a bright yellow dress, that falls to just above her knees.
Adam says, “Good morning,” while suddenly wishing he were single, and younger.
“Hi I’m Lindsay Parker. You must be Jason’s father; you two look a lot alike.”
Adam smiles, “I’m better looking, say, didn’t you play Juliet last year?”
“Yes, in last year’s school play, you have a good memory Mr. Reynolds.”
“I never forget a beautiful face. Jason is probably in the kitchen by now, follow me.”
Adam escorts Lindsay to the kitchen of the five bedroom colonial, where the smoky aroma of bacon fills the air. He kisses his wife good morning and then gestures toward Lindsay.
“Hon, this young lady is looking for Jason; her name is Lindsay.”
Marjorie stares at Lindsay. So, my boy has finally caught his angel.
She then notes Lindsay’s growing discomfort and stops her gawking.
“It’s nice to meet you dear.” She says.
Lindsay smiles, “It’s nice to meet you too Mrs. Reynolds.”
A commotion comes from the stairs that sounds like a stampede, soon, Jason rushes into the kitchen with his sister Angie close behind.
“Jas, you only beat me downstairs because you cheated.” Angie pouts.
“I beat you because I’m faster and—Lindsay? Hi, I thought we were picking you up later?”
“I know, but I borrowed mom’s car. I was hoping we could go out to breakfast.”
Jason says, “Great, I’ll get my jacket.” followed by both he and Lindsay simply standing and gazing at each other, beaming.
Marjorie breaks the spell. “You two aren’t going anywhere; we’ve got plenty of food right here, sit.”
Lindsay nods at Marjorie and sits beside Jason, across from her sits Angie. Angie has her blond hair in a ponytail and her gray eyes smirk at Jason and Lindsay with devilish glee.
Adam unfolds his newspaper. “So, what do you kids have planned for today Jason?”
“Have you seen my son’s artwork Lindsay?” Marjorie says. “He’s very talented.”
“Lindsay probably knows all about Jas’s talents mom.” Angie says, grinning, while across the table Lindsay blushes.
Jason tosses his sister an angry look. “Angie, I swear I’m gonna come over there and…”
“Angie behave,” Marjorie says, while she breaks egg after egg into a large, ceramic bowl. “I’m sorry Lindsay; Jason’s big sister likes to tease.”
“That’s okay, well, I’ve seen the seascapes that Jason sells to the tourists, but he says he’s going to paint my portrait soon.”
Angie giggles. “Are you going to paint her in the nude Jas?”
“Don’t be silly Angie,” Lindsay says, with a smile. “Jason will be wearing clothes.”
Marjorie pauses with a dripping egg in her hand as Adam lays down his paper. Angie stares at Lindsay for a beat, but then grins. “I like her Jas.”
Marjorie smiles to herself and goes back to making breakfast.
* * *
A sizeable boat, with red and blue sails flashing in the bright sunlight, makes its way across the sparsely populated sea, off the east coast of the Island. The young man at the helm pilots the sleek craft expertly among the swells of the Atlantic.
He is naked, apart from a tight and revealing pair of swim trunks that are as jet-black as the mane of hair that covers his head.
He steers the sails away from the prevailing wind and then sets about lowering them.
As he works, the muscles in his arms and shoulders move under his evenly tanned skin in effortless harmony, as he releases the anchor and secures the boat in place.
His companion sits on a towel in a corner of the deck, watching his every move, mesmerized like so many before her, by the male perfection and palpable aura of sensuality that is Derek Stern.
“So Lindsay’s fucking Jason, huh?” Derek says. “It’s because she knows I can’t stand him. The son of a bitch cast the deciding vote against me for Student President last year.”
“I don’t think it’s just that, I hear she likes him. I don’t blame her, he’s such a hunk.” Emily Howard says.
She is Lindsay, diminished. While Lindsay sparkles, Emily merely shines: smaller breasts, darker blond hair and watery blue eyes, yet still, a very beautiful girl.
“Lindsay’s mine, not Jason’s.”
“Oh really? Then what am I?”
Derek lowers himself behind Emily. “You’re my biggest mistake.”
Emily finds herself surrounded by him on the teetering deck and feels a sensuous anticipation. She also feels the silky hair of his chest caress her back and a considerable bulk where his crotch touches her hip. Her nipples are suddenly erect.
“Derek, forget Lindsay.”
Derek grimaces at the very thought. “God how I hate that she’s with Jason, I swear she’s only fucking him to piss me off.”
“I phoned her to say I’m sorry, I won’t repeat what she called me.”
“Was I worth losing your friendship over?”
Emily turns in his arms. “I’d do anything for you Derek.”
“Anything?” He asks, and Emily nods her head.
Derek stands. He then reaches down and scoops her up in one virtually effortless movement. They go below and the gently rocking boat sits peacefully upon the water.
* * *
In the afternoon, Jason and Lindsay have lunch at the mall with Paul and Simone, as they discuss their morning. The mall is a new addition to the Island, but already draws crowds.
“Lindsay, next time you want to go to breakfast, call first, and I’ll meet you outside.”
“It wasn’t so bad, your parents are nice.”
“Listen, I love my mom to death, but that was an interrogation. She’s so nosy.”
“Stop, she’s a sweetheart.” In fact, everything about you has been sweet.
Lindsay had planned to seduce Jason, and she did, eventually, after losing her nerve and spending hours studying for a non-existent algebra test. Her plan was to sleep with someone that Derek couldn’t stand, to pay him back for cheating on her, for hurting her.
That was the plan.
She had always liked Jason and knew he drooled after her. When he asked her out yet again last year, she was amused. Her, go out with a boy like him, hardly. But that boy changed dramatically over the summer and she found herself doing some drooling of her own.
Jason was constantly attentive, and generous. If she mentioned to him that something had caught her eye, he would immediately buy it for her.
This was startling after a year with Derek. Derek spent his money on one thing and one thing only—Derek.
Simone stands. “We’ll freshen up and meet you guys outside by the fountain, all right?”
Jason and Paul agree and the girls head for the ladies room.
Once inside, Lindsay leans over a sink while applying fresh lipstick, as Simone rests on the sink to her right.
“Why do you call Jason, Boomer?”
Lindsay grins. “It’s just a pet name, that’s all.”
“Does Jason have a pet name for you?”
“No—but no one’s ever looked at me the way he does.”
“…Lindsay, are you really over Derek?”
Lindsay stops in mid-stroke and stares down into the empty porcelain sink.
“How I feel about Derek is none of your business.”
“You’re right it’s not, but Jason’s my friend and I don’t want to see him get hurt.”
“You think I’m using him?” Lindsay asks, unable to look the petite girl in the eyes.
“No, I think you like Jason, it’s just that you and Derek were together for a long time and feelings don’t change overnight. Is Derek still trying to get back together?”
“Yes, but I’ve been ignoring him.”
They’re silent for a few moments, after which, Lindsay says. “Simone, I like Jason a lot. He’s so sweet and whenever we’re apart all I do is think about him. I even think I’m—”
“You even think what?”
“Never mind, it’s too soon.”
Simone looks puzzled, but then understanding flashes across her face.
“Lindsay… are you falling in love with Jason?”
Lindsay breaks out in a shy smile and a blush that shines right through her tan.
“I think I am.”
The two girls erupt in simultaneous squeals of delight and hug each other.
“I’m so happy. I think you two are great together.”
“Thanks, but tell me, has Jason ever said anything, you know… about me?”
“Lindsay don’t you know?”
“Know what?”
“Honey that boy has loved you for years.”
Lindsay smiles wide, as they leave the restaurant to rejoin the boys.
* * *
After taking Emily home, Derek turns onto Atlantic Highway, the shore road that circumnavigates the Island.
Emily had been too close to Lindsay and Derek knew it, but when she kept coming on to him and swore she’d never tell, he decided to add her to his list.
He keeps a numerical list in his head of every conquest, tryst, or quickie he has ever had with different women. In this one aspect, his memory is photographic.
Whenever he comes across a girl he’s slept with, he calls to mind her number, 12, 23, 47, etc. Her name might occur to him, or possibly not. Emily is his latest, Number 98.
Derek parks his black Corvette under the Ocean Beach Hotel’s grand canopy (A hotel owned by his mother) and tosses the keys to the valet. After changing in a cabana, he makes his way out to the nearly deserted pool and is soon lying in a lounge chair wearing only swim trunks, this time, they are bright red.
Waiting
Maybe it’s too late. After all, no matter how warm the weather, summer is over. They’ve probably all gone back.
But t
hen he spots them, two of them sitting together at a corner table that displays the evidence of their afternoon of vice. He counts eight of those silly umbrella things they put in the drinks lying atop the table, not including the ones still floating in their current drinks. Derek waits until the women look his way, and then smiles. It will not be long now.
He sees them motion for the bartender, and when he comes, point in his direction. The short, balding bartender walks over to him minutes later with his usual whiskey sour.
“I don’t know how you do it Derek.”
“Do what Harry? I didn’t do anything.”
“That’s what I mean. When I die I want to come back as your cock.”
“Goodbye Harry, I’m expecting company.”
Derek raises his glass in thanks and the two women giggle.
He smiles back, while thanking God for women like these. Mid-level female executives, stressed out from the rigors of corporate life. In the summer they come to the Island by the scores to soak up the sun and decompress. They tend to drink excessively in an effort to cram as much fun as possible into a one week vacation. For some reason they travel in packs of two or three, rarely do you find one drinking excessively in public while alone.
Their favorite pastime after getting hammered is to get laid, anonymously. Derek knows that right now they’re teasing each other about what it would be like to just walk over and whisk him off to bed. The teasing will turn daring and the bolder of the two will take him to her room.
The women rise from their table and head over to where he reclines. Derek notices they both walk carefully, a sign that they’re buzzed but not yet drunk, good.
The taller of the two, a strawberry blonde, is nearing forty, however her one-piece bathing suit reveals a taut body and there are few lines upon her pretty face. The shorter one, a brunette with long hair, is younger, Derek gauges her to be somewhere between twenty-five and thirty. She wears a bikini, scarlet red, and the contrast with her pale skin is stark.
They settle on either side of his lounge chair facing him, the young one on his right. They are women used to giving orders. They are women used to getting what they want.
“My God Dora, he’s so young.” The older one says.
The younger one looks at Derek. When their eyes meet, his gaze holds her until she looks away.
