All work and no play was making Sally a dull girl, so I booked a week away and grabbed some friends. Jersey, one week, late July. Perfect.
St. Ouen's Bay
After flying in on Sunday evening, we were eager to get to the beach on Monday, and this, in my opinion, is the best of them. So we lie, lazily, soaking up the sun and not having to do much. This is the life.
I have two girls with me, Grace and Amy. Old friends, sadly straight, who also needed a break from the monotony of working life. I know Jersey well, having visited a lot as a child, and find it the perfect escape. We have rooms in a nice hotel in St. Helier, a nippy little hire car, and no demands on our time.
I enjoy the beach. When the tide is out, the sea seems to be miles away, though at the moment it is coming in and the waves are a little fiercer. It's a long beach too, some three miles, but it is still well populated. I sit and watch the world go by. Bikini-clad women wander past holding dripping ice creams and men with surfboards head down to the waves, though the water is far too busy for them to be able to get a proper run at it. We shall stay until the evening however, and it is then that the surfers really descend onto the beach.
The lifeguards drive past periodically in their red Land Rovers. They are all Australians, working over here while it is winter in the antipodes. Occasionally they get out and move the flags that indicate where people should swim, and when they do, girls around them swoon. Near to us, some people are playing a game of beach cricket. At one point the ball comes in my direction; instinctively, I catch it. The people argue over whether or not this makes the batsman out.
Grace is reading a trashy novel, and Amy is snoozing. I worry that she will burn, but she has applied so much sun cream that I consider it unlikely. I decide that I will go for a swim. I take my sunglasses and hat off and walk down to the shore. The sand is quite hot and there is virtually no wind today, but the sea is cold and for a while I just stand with the water up to my ankles as the remnants of the waves wash around me. Once I am used to the temperature, I wade in a little further; then, when I am in up to my waist, I dive under a little wave. The coldness is sudden but refreshing, and I swim out a little further. The waves are not as high as they seem to be from the beach, and I am soon out beyond where they are breaking.
I float on my back for a while, enjoying the gentle movement of the water while taking care not to drift too far. There are several people in the water, though the surfers have all gone further up the beach where the surf is better. I people-watch for a bit, a favourite pass time of mine. I do enjoy the summer, as women seem to shed their clothes and so there is always something to look at.
I am watching the shore as I have spotted someone. She is walking along, just beyond the water line. She has fairly short brown hair, though the sun seems to have brought out some highlights. She is wearing a blue bikini, elegantly cut, and her body is exquisite; tanned, slender but toned, with the kind of contours that I would just… later. My internal gaydar is beeping at me, though I am often wrong so I try to ignore it. Just enjoy the view, I tell myself.
She's wading into the sea, and she is on her own. She enters the water much as I did, waiting until the water level is halfway up her body before diving in. She disappears under a wave, and then resurfaces, shaking her hair out of her eyes as she does so. God, but she's heavenly.
She's swimming out towards where I am, but I don't think she's especially noticed me. I continue to float, trying not to stare too much though all the while hoping to catch her gaze. I wish to myself that I could be more direct. She swims a big semicircle around me, still not looking at me, seemingly indifferent to all around her. I can feel myself burning up inside.
Her path has led to her ending up some five yards from me, but still she's looking away. Then she turns to me, and seems to silently interrogate my eyes.
Don't think I don't know, her eyes say to mine.
Know what? mine say back, we've never met.
Not yet, comes the reply.
Then she is gone.
St. Helier
On Tuesday, the three of us go shopping. Well, I need new sunglasses, and it would be criminal not to take advantage if the lack of VAT here. Grace and Amy are both excellent shoppers, excellent in the way that they can spend a whole day doing it and purchase one item. I prefer to be a little more efficient, but what the hell.
St. Helier is a wonderful place to shop, it has so much character. We wander slowly up the main street, diving into shops on either side. It is crowded, this is the tourist season after all, and there are banners up advertising the forthcoming 'Battle of Flowers', where all of Jersey turns out to watch a parade of floats covered with coloured blooms go by. Always fun, but not something we will be around to attend.
Anyhow, I have found my sunglasses in one of the numerous little surf shops just off the main street, and I am very pleased with my purchase. Amy is insisting on popping into every clothes shop we pass, and as I am full of the joys of summer I do not complain. Neither she nor Grace seem to have too much idea of what it is that they want, but that doesn't stop them trying everything on.
In a large department store I am seated outside the changing rooms, waiting for them to make up their minds. I am quietly reading the paper when someone walks right past me. Instinctively I look up to see who it is, though of course it is unlikely that I will know them. Walking away from me and towards the escalator, though, is the girl from the beach, I'm sure of it. Quickly I fold up my paper and follow her, but there are too many people around and I lose her in the crowd. I can't be sure if she went down the escalator or not, so I look around the floor I am on. No avail. But then I can't be absolutely sure that it was her!
When I return, Grace and Amy have decided on nothing, and we leave empty handed but still in good spirits. I am preoccupied though. I remember her so clearly from our encounter in the sea. Her eyes were a deep brown, I remember feeling hypnotised when she had looked at me. I wondered if I had imagined it all; I had felt like I was getting such clear messages from her, yet how was that possible?
We continue on our way up the street, and come to an indoor market. There are all sorts of stalls here; florists, butchers, fishmongers, fruit and vegetable sellers, booksellers, jam sellers, wine sellers. It is cooler in here and I want to just wander around it for a while, maybe buy some of the produce. I pick up some jams that will go well in my kitchen at home, and browse over some wines. I have more or less decided on a local red with a bit of age, when a voice comes from behind me.
"An excellent choice."
I turn around, expecting to see the assistant, but to my surprise it is her, the brown-haired-girl. "You..!" I manage to stammer.
"Me?" she replies, a picture of innocence, or so she'd have me believe.
"From yesterday!" I say, hardly cutting the impression of effortless smoothness that I would have preferred.
"Now, that," she answers, "would be telling." And again she is gone, walking away while I am rooted to the spot, transfixed. I want to go after her, but somehow my legs will not move. All I can do is stare until I can see her no more.
I buy my wine and find the girls, unable to comprehend anything.
St. Brelade's Bay
On Wednesday, another beach. The sun is beating down today, and the water looks very inviting. St. Brelade's is another long beach, though not as long as St. Ouen's. It isn't nearly as wide, either, and the sea is much calmer. It is fairly busy today, though by no means unbearably so, and we find a nice spot with soft sand and a good view. We make camp, then Grace settles down on the rug with her book and copious amounts of sun cream. Amy and I decide to go for a swim.
The water is quite warm today as there is little wind and the tide is slowly coming up over the hot sand. We wade out and float for a bit, making idle conversation about whatever takes out fancy. I have not told either Grace or Amy about my encounters with the brown-haired-girl, nor do I feel any need to; after all, I am on holiday with them. And anyway, I myself do not know what to make of it all.
Amy has brought a beach ball out into the water, and we amuse ourselves by throwing it to one another. I feel younger, more carefree, and Amy and I are giggling like a pair of schoolgirls whenever the other one misses the ball.
After a while we leave the sea and return to our towels to sunbathe. If anything it has got hotter, and I don't allow myself to drop off for fear of burning. Instead I daydream about nothing of any consequence. I am just enjoying having no work commitments, and I feel great apart from a few nagging thoughts. I really want to know who the brown-haired-girl is and why she is having this effect on me. It is odd, the way she suddenly turned up in the market yesterday, and she was behaving almost cryptically.
Some time later, the three of us decide that an ice cream is in order. We are at the west end of the beach, and I know of a little café at the east end, and so we decide to walk over to it. We each grab our purses and set off. We walk along the water line, gossiping with one another and making jokes about anything that crosses our minds. At about half distance there is an extensive outcrop of rocks; fortunately the tide is still out far enough that we can just about get around them. On the way back we will have to climb over them, still, I see it as a challenge. I remember doing it as a child.
We come to the café, but to my surprise it has been sold and is a café no longer! Nevertheless there is an ice cream van here, so all is not lost. We each buy a cone and then sit on the beach's wall, staring out to sea and watching a ferry in the distance. After we have all finished I decide that I must use the nearby toilet, so I tell the others not to wait and that I will catch them up.
When I come out, I see that Grace and Amy are practically at the rocks already, but it is too hot to give chase and I stroll along the sand, alone with my thoughts. When I make it to the rocks I curse the fact that I have nothing on my feet. There is no way but over, so I must brave it. I find a ledge and haul myself up so that I am standing on a flat surface, and plan the best route through. I drop down onto a rock below, then dart from ledge to ledge, trying hard to not lose my footing. I step down into a valley between sloping rocks on either side, and then I become acutely aware of the fact that I am being watched.
I look up and sure enough I see the brown-haired-girl grinning down at me from a rocky plateau above. She holds my gaze, then eases herself down so that she is in the valley in front of me.
"We do seem to keep running into each other," she says to me.
"Indeed," I reply, trying to keep my composure, but this is very strange, "how do you know where I'll be all the time?"
"I must just be lucky," she answers. I realise that I cannot easily get away; I am cornered. Not that I mind all that much.
"Do you have a name, at least?" I ask.
"Yes, thank you," says she, "do you?"
"I'm Sally. Who are you?"
"Lara, not that it matters," she tells me at last. God, I am thinking, she's absolutely stunning. Her hair is damp and falling into her eyes, and she has beads of water all over her skin. I want to reach out and touch her, but feel this would not be wise. She clearly wields the power here.
Suddenly, Lara steps forward and kisses me on the lips. I am so taken aback that at first I don't respond, then I realise what is going on and how much I damn well fancy this girl, and I kiss her back. She has me pushed up against the rock behind me and it is digging into my back, but I don't care. I part my lips and Lara accepts the invitation, exploring my mouth with her tongue. I repay the compliment, and our hands are everywhere. I am drowning in her, melting under her touch, pouring myself into her.
I don't know how long we are locked in the kiss, but when she pulls away I know I don't want her to. She is still in my arms, and I look into her eyes.
What now? my eyes ask hers.
Another time, hers reply.
Don't go, my eyes plead with her.
You know you won't stop me, comes the reply.
And then she walks away, climbing over the rocks and out of sight. Once again I feel powerless to go after her, I can't understand what it is that she has over me that prevents me from following. The taste of her is lingering, I can still feel her pressed up against me, but she is not here anymore. When I finally emerge onto the sand from the rocks I look around, but Lara has gone. I don't know what is happening at all.
Plemont Bay
I'm still dazed; fortunately my friends are none the wiser. I don't know why I want to keep all this from them, I guess I just don't want to ruin the dynamic of the group. Anyway, another day, another beach.
This time, Plemont Bay, in the extreme north west of the island. It's not a big beach at all, surrounded on all sides by cliffs except seawards by. To get to Plemont, one has to navigate some very twisty, steep, narrow roads, and if it is busy and there is nowhere to park at the bottom it can be a problem, as there isn't a lot of turning space. Today, though, there is room for us. It's a little cloudier than it has been, and I manage to drive the car down to the end of the road, by the beach's café.
We collect our things from the boot and take the steps down to the beach itself. We have somewhat misjudged our timing, for the tide is still up and the entire beach is covered. The steps lead down onto some rocks that, if you turn left, have further steps down onto the sand. For the time being, though, the waves are crashing around the rocks and we make camp on the flattest part we can find.
When it is like this there isn't much room, but as I said it isn't crowded at the moment; it's still quite early, well before lunch. We set our towels out, and Grace immediately buries herself back into her book. I perch on the end of the rock and enjoy the view. The scenery here is quite spectacular, and I love watching the waves. The power of the sea has always fascinated me, I can watch it for hours, the way it ebbs and flows. I'm not really thinking about my current situation, or indeed anything much, just using the time to clear my mind.
At the other end of the rock there is now a group of six or so people, all of about our age. They too have made camp here until the tide goes out and gives us all some beach to play with. I glance idly in their direction, but do a double take when I see Lara among them. I'm sure it must be her, I wouldn't forget her face in a hurry.
I don't think she's seen me, but how weird is this? Four days in a row? What is going on here? I wonder what will happen when she sees me, as she's bound to do. I can't deny that I'm thrilled to see her, but I don't know how to react. She has been toying with me, and I feel helpless.
I try to look inconspicuous. I don't know why I'm trying to hide, after all, I do want her to notice me. I'm not used to feeling so much under someone's control, though, and I don't quite know what to make of it.
The tide has dropped a little, and I decide that I will go for a wander. It is now possible to get onto the beach and just have the water up to your ankles. I am nearer the steps than she is, so I go down and feel my feet sink a little into the submerged sand. From here I can turn left again and go into the caves between the cliffs, or right and out to sea. I go left and pick my way past the rocks until I am out of the reach of the tide.
The caves are really quite open here, although they do go under the main steps to the beach and come out on the other side of the large rocks upon which Grace and Amy remain. I go a little further in. It is damp, a legacy from the recently departed high tide, and drops of water fall around me. Though the sea and its waves are not far away, it is oddly tranquil in here.
But then I look back and see Lara making her way after me. I'm partially delighted and partially terrified, which is ridiculous, I'm a grown woman for Heaven's sake. She is looking right at me, and I feel like a rabbit caught in oncoming headlights. I can't move. She has enchanted me.
She doesn't say a word as she approaches me, but comes all the way up to me and kisses me. No ceremony, just her body pressed against mine and her hands in my hair and her tongue sparring with mine. Her audacity amazes me, but this time I know what's going on and am kissing her back, pulling her closer and not wanting to let go. I knew this was coming.
We are out of sight of everyone, and as long as the tide is still up we are unlikely to be disturbed. Even so, Lara manuevers me further into the cave. I feel behind me and find a flat rock, upon which I sit as I pull Lara down with me. She is wearing a bikini top and little shorts, much like me, and my hands roam all over her skin, which is so soft. I feel I could devour her.
Lara drops her head and starts to run her lips across my neck. I lean back and expose more of my throat to her; fortunately there is a rock behind me and it is quite comfortable. Lara's tongue is tracing the contours of my shoulders and lower neck now. She stops to place a kiss on my jugular notch, before kissing her way down to the valley between my breasts. I feel my nipples harden as a reflex to her warm breath on my chest. Lara's mouth travels all around my right breast, then she pulls back the fabric of my bikini and teases my nipple gently into her mouth. I let out almost a growl as I feel the moisture from her mouth encapsulate it, and I find myself clutching the back of her head, not letting her escape.
And yet she does escape, and she snakes down my stomach, carressing my navel with those delicious lips of hers. I can feel myself getting wet in anticipation as she edges downwards, and I can also feel her fingertips, ever so lightly, on my inner thigh. I shudder under her touch; she can control me with the slightest movement and she knows it. My legs are parting without me realising it; it is only when I feel the direct pressure of Lara's hand on my pussy that I realise how much I have opened myself up to her.
Lara waits for no invitation. She pulls my shorts down and thrusts her fingers deep into my soaked slit. My entire body spasms as I feel her enter me, and she quicky settles into a rhythm of pumping her hand in and out of my pussy. I am struggling to keep control already. I can feel her flexing her fingers inside me, and she is exerting exquisite pressure on my walls which tighten on an effort to keep her in. My clit is hard and ready to explode, and I can feel the beginnings of a huge climax welling up from within. I am slamming myself down onto her hand as she pushes up into me, I want to swallow her into me, and as I come Lara increases the pace. I am grateful for the distant crashing of the waves as I cry out with delight.
As I come down from my high, Lara slides her fingers out of my pussy. They are coated with my juice, and she brings them to her mouth and inhales, then sighs happily. She has not broken eye contact with me at any point, and as I lie back on my rock I can tell from her expression that she is not done with me just yet. She resumes kissing my belly, and now that my shorts are out of the way, she has complete access to my pussy, which is throbbing from the first round of her ministrations.
Without checking to see if I am sufficiently recovered, Lara runs her mouth over my neatly trimmed bush and positions herself between my legs. She takes a good look at me first, and seems pleased with what she sees. I feel as though I am no more than an object for her to peruse at leisure, yet I wouldn't say that I object. Such was the power with which she made me yield.
The first touch of Lara's tongue on my pussy feels like electricity. She is flicking my clit, which is extremely sensitive and makes me breathe in sharply. Then she creates a seal with her lips around it and sucks, and I am groaning deeply. She knows what she is doing to me. My head is thrown back and my eyes are shut and all I can feel is pure bliss. Lara's mouth is locked onto my pussy and I am thrusting downwards to meet it. She releases the seal and her tongue moves down so that she is now teasing my opening. I feel her dart in and out of me and I am getting wetter by the second.
Lara is working my pussy harder and harder, to the point of saturation. The sensations are simply fabulous, and I find myself coming again in no time at all. I am bucking against her; she is licking me and sucking me and my pussy is on fire. Every motion of her hungry tongue or lips just prolongs an orgasm that is already longer than I thought they were meant to be. I don't know how much more I can take, and yet I think I could go on all day.
And then it is over, and I am lying back on the rock, panting hard. My eyes are shut and I can feel Lara come out from between my legs. I want to say something, but I can't think of anything appropriate. Finally I open my eyes, but I cannot see Lara.
I sit up, and see her walking away, out of the caves. She does not look back. I want to go after her, but somehow I know to stay put and let her walk away. I know in that moment that I will not see her again. She got what she came for, and will not be back.