Tide's Ebb

by Alexandra Brenton

  “Ma’am, we are but simple folk here in Newport. But we have a few nice things: sincerity, community, and the well-earned rest that comes after a hard day of honest work.”

  She noticed how his calloused hands gripped his specialty drink coffee tightly. “Yes, but you’d rather live in the City, right?”

  “Well, no ma’am. The sea is my home. I could never be at home on an island surrounded by sewage.”

  The poor man had clearly only been to Newark. “I admire your people’s simplicity. You are quite noble. How is that caramel macchiato? Everything you ever dreamed of?”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” The man stood up.

  “Are you going?”

  “Yes, ma’am, a seaman hears the ocean’s call early, and he must rise before dawn.”

  “No, you must stay.”

  “No, I must go.”

  Marianna felt her face get white hot. Who did this low-tide low brow think he was?

  “You’re very ungrateful. I just bought you a caramel macchiato, and you haven’t even finished it!” She poked at his chest.

  Now the man straightened even more, his tall frame towering over Marianna and her luscious bosoms. Marianna detected a faint shake in his hands.

  “Ungrateful? You didn’t even ask my name. I just did what I thought was right. I have no need for this high fallutin’ nonsense.”

  “You ingrate! You’ve never had coffee this good.”

  “Truth is, ma’am, instead of a thank-you macchiato, I’d have preferred some thank-you fellaciatto. My name is Larry, and I am leaving.”

  “Well, Larry, you can’t leave! Because I am leaving!” Marianna stood up, her pert breasts pressed tenaciously against her La Perla bra. She abruptly turned her shoulders and marched out the Starbucks into the night. Her cheeks were burning.

  She had never known a man so coarse! But, she thought to herself, I wouldn’t have thought that a man like that would even know the word “fellatio.”

  Larry just stood in the Starbucks, now smiling a little smile after Marianna’s exit. He sat back down, satisfied, and sipped on the sweet nectar of a caramel macchiato. This was what it felt like to be alive again. The raven-haired beauty’s fiery streak was intriguing.

  Larry had rushed in too quickly one too many times before—before he really knew a woman.

  But they’re not all like that. They’re not all hiding something.

  Just the same, he was afraid to put himself through that anguish again.

  Chapter 12 – Spring is coming

  The sea was warming. The ice began to disappear from Newport, and along with it, the frost in Marianna’s heart. The men in Newport began to take to the sea again. Marianna saw more than one sailor and admired their rugged hands and strapping shoulders.

  She wondered what it would be like to have those rough hands placed on the smooth skin of the small of her back. There were many rugged men in town. But, for some reason, when Marianna closed her eyes, those rough hands would be connected to the muscular arms of Larry.

  I must be losing it if I’m fantasizing about making love to a guy named Larry, Marianna thought. I’ve been in this godforsaken village too long!

  She called Suzanne.

  “It’s so sad—the only naked man I’ve had on top of me is a complete idiot.”

  “Uh, it just sounds like you need to get laid.”

  “Suzanne, you say that about everything!”

  “That’s because it’s true about everything!”

  “There aren’t exactly a ton of suitable men in Newport! A lot of the hot ones don’t even work in offices!”

  “Ewwww…. But still, sometimes a lady needs some sexy sex. How long has it been?”

  “Well, Screech used to always do his thing…”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about! Sometimes you need pen-e-tra-tion!”

  Marianna couldn’t bear to respond—the truth was the she had not felt a man’s deep caress since she last made love to Bradley.

  “Come on, Marianna! Women are like Priuses—although we can go for miles and miles without it, sometimes we still need to get filled up! Please tell me you at least have a vibrator!”

  “Oh, no! I’ve always been too scared! They look huge!” Marianna scoffed. “And my womanhood is… ahem… dainty!”

  “Well, don’t get a vibrator that won’t fit!”

  “But some of them are in really weird shapes!”

  “I know, right? But it’s about picking the right one! Marianna, even I don’t like the ones that look like alien tentacles. I don’t want anything that doesn’t look like a penis—my pussy has a sign on it, and it reads ‘Members Only’!”

  Oh, how the girls laughed and laughed!

  “Maybe you’re right, though. Maybe I do just need to get laid.” Marianna giggled. Although she liked to project a prim image, she had to admit that sometimes she just needed a hot beef injection.

  “Look, at this point, you can use Screech for a few days—now that you’ve established a little distance.”

  Just mentioning Screech made Marianna remember his special talent and she felt warm. Yes, she thought, maybe “riding the goat” is exactly what I need to forget everything else.

  Screech was thrilled. She had called him on Thursday, and he had cancelled his plans for that weekend in the City to come visit her instead.

  She had wanted to start the weekend with a meal at Tallula on Thames for dinner, but Screech had other intentions.

  When Friday came, Screech announced his arrival in Newport by beating on the door of her corporate apartment with intensity. When she opened, he swept in like a hunting dog possessed by the scent of the sweetest prey. He kissed her, his tongue slipping between her shocked lips. His bony, but muscular, frame bore down against her tight body and pert breasts which strained against the fabric of her blouse. She felt her hips immediately tilt forward. They weren’t obeying her mind anymore—they obeyed only the command of passion, which drove them to seek out friction.

  His hands pulled her skirt up, and he flipped his thumbs over the top of her pantyhose and started to yank them down, panties and all. Kneeling down, he kissed the small of her hip. He wrapped his arms around the back of her legs. His hands wandered up to her rear and cupped it.

  She felt his weight push against her, his hot breath against her thighs, pantyhose and powder blue lace underthings around her ankles. Suddenly, Marianna felt off-balance. Screech—no, Alan, it now seemed better to call him by a man’s name—was standing up while holding her, his arms wrapped tightly around her legs, her back pressed against the wall, his mouth tantalizingly close to her sweetness.

  Alan would not let her fall. Though he was only small, she could feel his wiry strength coursing through his lean arms. Now he started to nuzzle her. His breath was hot against her thighs, and her core tingled. She was ready for his touch now, hot liquid pooling between her legs. She felt just the tip of his tongue flick lightly—lost at first, but then finding a groove and a rhythm.

  Marianna started to squirm. Alan knew she was near completion now. Thinking quickly, he knew just what to do to push her over the edge. He placed his mouth over Marianna’s jewel and sucked her sweetness as hard as he could. Marianna moaned loudly. Then Alan darted his tongue into her gushing canal. That did it.

  “Oooh God! Alaaaan!” Marianna cried out.

  Alan relaxed his grip a little, and her feet landed softly on the floor, his hands tracing her buttocks to the small of her back.

  “You know what I want now, don’t you?”

  But she didn’t. Alan had always orally pleasured her for hours, but he never demanded anything in return. This time, his eyes were hungry, and he stroked against the bulge in his pants.

  She felt a determined hand on the underside of her left thigh. Alan lifted her leg to the side and pressed his still-clothed body against her. His belt buckle was cold against her naked belly. They had never made love before, but suddenly, she wanted him inside her. Her hands shot tow
ards the belt and furiously worked the buckle. Now it was her turn to yank his pants off. He stood at attention, his rigid manhood straining against his SpongeBob boxers. Normally, that would have thrown Marianna off. But she reached through the front panel to draw out Alan’s vigilant soldier. His scorching steel fishing rod jumped as she took hold of it. So much heat.

  His hips leaned in. She lifted him up, and his erection teased her silken folds. She was slick. He thrust again, and somehow he was inside her. She was wrapped around him tightly, like a baby chimpanzee on the mother chimpanzee. She gasped. It was as if Alan was her first, so long had passed since a man’s tender shaft had touched her. She wanted it badly.

  For a small man, he moved with amazing rhythmic force. Her back was pinned against the wall, his body bearing down against hers. It seemed like every inch of his skin made contact against hers. Alan now hooked his arms underneath each of her legs—he was holding her up against the wall. The angle of his carress had changed—she could feel only one thing, but somehow it was everywhere. Alan was everywhere inside her. His pace quickened, and her moans grew louder.

  She was strung tight like a bowstring. Alan’s arrow flew inside her one more time, hit the target, and she quivered. She would have screamed, but all she could manage was a gentle peep. Alan shuddered, emptying a river of balmy man juice into her moistened love canal.

  With Alan still supporting her, they slid down the wall slowly and collapsed on the carpeted floor. Marianna had never liked the carpet, but now it felt like the softest bed at the Four Seasons. Alan’s wiry arms embraced her tightly.

  When Marianna awoke, it was dark, Alan’s arms still wrapped around her like baking wire.

  “What time is it?”

  The backlit screen of a Blackberry opened the darkness.

  It was 9:30—too late to go to Tallula. But Marianna felt a low rumble in her stomach. Love-making was hungry work. “Let’s go to the Captain’s Corner instead.”

  Alan kissed her lightly on the cheek. “All right, but only if you promise that these clothes are coming right back off when we come home!”

  The Captain’s Corner was a divey little diner not far from the docks. Marianna and Alan settled into a booth. Marianna had felt completely at ease. But sitting in the booth brought back memories of the last time she and Alan had gone to a restaurant together. She felt her face flush—the strong man that had just brought her such pleasure and comfort had also struggled to understand when intimate touches were appropriate. Had he learned anything about life since Dorsia? Did he now understand that there were some places that were inappropriate for cunnilingus?

  Screech scooted towards her on the vinyl booth, his tiny tush scraping across the squeaky synthetic plastic. Marianna instinctively crossed her legs tight and put her hands in her lap. But Screech didn’t disappear under the table this time. Instead, he simply put his arm around Marianna.

  She relaxed. He wasn’t the man she had always longed for, but perhaps he was the man that she had always needed.

  Screech leaned over and whispered, “Who’s that man?”

  Marianna looked around. There were many patrons in the Captain’s Cove, but she could have picked those piercing blue eyes out of a line-up of Ukrainian models, largely because the Ukrainian models wouldn’t have had beards: Larry. His steel blue eyes were fixed on Marianna. Her eyes matched his gaze, and she thought she could detect a tremble in his hands. She felt an intense urge to go over there and give him a piece of her mind. He was so ungrateful! And crass! “Thank-you fellaciato”? Disgusting. How glad she was that Alan was with her.

  And yet… when she tore her eyes away from Larry’s stare and peered at the slender man sitting next to her, she felt… unfulfilled. She pushed the thought out of her mind.

  Larry got up. He was walking towards them. Hopefully, he would say nothing untoward. Suddenly, she was gasping for air.

  “Ma’am, good to see you well.” Larry lowered his head in a miniature bow. “And sir,” he turned towards Screech, “my name is Larry.”

  Screech stood up in jerky motion. “Hey there, big fella! Nice to meet you! I’m Screech… I mean… Alan. How do you two know each other?”

  Marianna blurted out a white lie “Oh, he works on boats and sometimes acts as a… delivery boy.”

  “As the lady says.” Larry paused, and his eyes narrowed. “In any event, the big regatta is coming up next week. I’ll be captaining one of the yachts. You two lovebirds should come out.”

  Screech nodded his head far too quickly. “Awesome! Yeah! I can take the train out next weekend too!”

  Larry nodded and walked away.

  That was weird. But Marianna was glad it hadn’t gotten too awkward. She hadn’t planned on telling Screech about the wet, naked man who had rescued her from certain death in the billowy depths of the ocean.

  When Marianna and Screech got home, they shed their clothes again, just as Screech had promised. They made love once more, tenderly, without urgency. Marianna enjoyed the act—the rhythm as old as time, or at least as old as when amoebas stopped being unisexual. But after Screech had finished and rolled off to a side, she lay alone, eyes wide open, unable to sleep.

  * * *

  In a small Cape Cod bungalow miles away, Larry too lay awake, alone with his thoughts. She’s not who I thought she was. You’ve been fooled again, you silly old sea dog.

  It would be hours before he would sleep, scarce hours of comfort before he rose again to face the sea at dawn.

  Chapter 13 – The Seawall

  Marianna didn’t know when she had drifted off to sleep, but when she awoke, the sun was shining. The air was sweetened by the faint smell of bacon. With some effort, she coerced herself out of bed and padded towards the kitchen.

  Screech was standing over the stove, making bacon and eggs, his hands moving enthusiastically to scramble the eggs. The domestic scene was comforting.

  “Well, good morning sunshine! Up and at ‘em! We should do a ton of things today! Let’s go see some of these Newport mansions. When we get to the sea wall, I’m going to have a surprise for you!”

  Marianna was too groggy to respond, but she was intrigued about the surprise. She shuffled towards the stove and embraced him, his throbbing manhood returning her hug with considerable affection. She could banish her misgivings and get used to this kind of life, with a man that cared for her, enough to cook a meat like bacon, which required both skill and attention. Perhaps this man is father material?

  Everything felt like spring—it was a gorgeous day, and Marianna felt a little naughty when she slipped on a pair of black lace La Perla panties underneath a thin, billowy sundress.

  They walked along the mansions of Newport. Although Marianna asserted that Newport lacked most basic trappings of civilization, even she had to admit that the mansions were extraordinary. Screech explained that they were built by great men who celebrated modern America by building 16th century Italian palazzos, long before Italians ruined the Jersey Shore. Newporters called the mansions "cottages" because they were smaller than Versailles. Screech explained that most of the mansions were built in the 19th century, before FDR had started the Great Depression by confiscating money from the rich and giving it to the slothful working class. After the start of Social Security, no one could afford to build such mansions anymore. Instead, these great men were driven from Newport and frog-marched into tiny apartments in New York with putting greens on the roof instead of actual golf courses in the backyards like they had in Newport. Some of the old timers still talked about the Long March.

  The most beautiful house of all was the Breakers, built by one Cornelius Vanderbilt. Vanderbilt had made his fortune in Cleveland steamships before losing everything when Cleveland Steamers became associated with an unspeakable sex act, attracting a very different clientele to Vanderbilt’s vessels. Marianna was impressed by the imposing, palace-like structure built of gray stone, whose construction cost more than $300 million inflation-adjusted dollars. When Maria
nna heard that figure, she felt a little wet and instinctively grabbed Alan’s arm.

  Leaving the Breakers, they walked along the sea wall. There was no one else out, strange for a gorgeous Saturday. The path was somewhat rough and winding, along an ancient stone wall facing the sea. From the path to the sea, there was a twenty-foot drop to where the Atlantic smashed against the rocks. The view was amazing, and Marianna was happy to share it with such a kind man.

  “So… I told you I’d have a surprise for you when we got to the seawall.”

  Marianna squeaked with anticipation as if she were Suzanne about to take a brand-new Rabbit for a test drive.

  “But you have to turn around, close your eyes, and face the sea.”