The Widows of Sea Trail (The Widows of Sea Trail Trilogy)

by Jacqueline DeGroot

  He picked a spot close to the dune line and laid the towels out, overlapping them in the center. I sat on my towel and watched him walk down the sand and into the ocean. With graceful strokes he swam past the breakers then I watched as he swam with powerful strokes along the horizon. I shivered, not from the coolness of the breeze, but from the heady knowledge that this was my man, the epitome of all I thought a man should be. After about twenty minutes, I watched him walk out of the surf and back toward me. He was so tall and so well built with his flat stomach and broad shoulders that I thought for a few moments that I wasn’t worthy of him, that he was just too good to be true. I smiled at my own thoughts, Maybe he was.

  As he came closer I saw him smile and raise his eyebrows in a conspiratorial way, he obviously had something lascivious in mind from the looks of it. I watched as he came closer and water sluiced down his legs. Then he sat down and crossed one arm over an upraised knee as he surveyed the area. The dunes were high and far enough from the beach houses that we couldn’t be seen by anyone who was not on the beach, directly in front of us.

  He took my hand and turned me so I was sitting in the center of my towel, Indian style. My skirt rode up past my thighs, but I think that might have been his plan.

  He did the same and then leaned in to kiss me lightly on the lips. The next thing I knew, the fingers from both hands were under the crotch of my panties and with one abrupt movement he shredded the cotton and tore the fabric wide. The coolness of the sudden exposure to my womanhood was highly erotic. Now there was absolutely no barrier covering my sex. I was out in the open with only his body shielding me. It was a heady, naughty feeling.

  “There, that’s the access I wanted,” he whispered. A hand went to the front of my halter-styled shirt and he began deftly flicking open one button after another until the wind blew it completely open. The center clasp of my bra was next. My breasts fell out of the cups. I couldn’t believe that I was virtually naked, outside in the open air, where anyone might chance to see me if they came by.

  “Access to all my favorite things,” he said huskily as he bent forward to kiss me again. “Mmmm, do I have plans for you tonight.”

  A shiver of anticipation went through me. His large hand moved to cup a full, quivering breast, hefting it and stroking it before thumbing the aching nipple. His other hand started the same sequence with my other breast. Soon both hands were busy squeezing, kneading and milking me. The tiny tugs on my nipples were shooting sparks straight to my womb. When he increased the pressure, nearly unseating me, I wanted to swoon from the sensations.

  One hand abandoned its firm mound of flesh and before I knew it I had two fingers inside me, thrusting and retreating in the silky, moist flesh. He was using his hand as a blade and I wasn’t sure at times whether there were two or three fingers doing their magic inside me.

  “You are so wet, so very, very wet,” he murmured. “Mmmmm.” He leaned forward and kissed me, taking the kiss deep and using his tongue expertly. I could only surmise from the speed that it was darting in and out of my mouth that he was warming me up for something truly amazing.

  As one hand continued to tease my nipples, the fingers on the other slowly entered and withdrew. I could smell the musky essence of me wafting up between my widely spread thighs. His eyes met mine and the desire I saw there floored me. I had never seen so much need and hunger in a man’s eyes before.

  “I think I’m going to try to find your G spot. Has anyone ever touched it before?” His voice was soft as if this was a very sacred thing he was going to attempt.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Oh, you’d know.”

  “Well, then no.”

  “If I find it, you could have a wonderful experience or an exceptionally bad one. The area has an affinity for being able to store up past sexual experiences, be they good or bad. Have you ever had a traumatic sexual encounter of any kind?”

  “A policeman tapped on the car window once when Stephen and I were, well, uh . . .”

  “I get the picture. And it was a bad experience?”

  “Uh, he shined his flashlight all over my body before even bothering to tap on the glass.”

  He leaned forward again and kissed my temple. “Can’t say that I blame him.” His eyes left mine and he focused on my breasts.

  “Stephen didn’t seem to mind that part either. He didn’t even try to cover me up.”

  “A lot of men wouldn’t. You’re a trophy, he must have been proud. I would have been. Breasts like these are a rarity.”

  “It was unnerving, having two men staring at my breasts like that, one your husband, the other a complete stranger.”

  “I can imagine. But let me guess, you probably didn’t get a ticket though, or get carted off to jail.”

  “No. He just warned us away after leering at me and making me feel like a cheap trollop.”

  “Nothing cheap about you, you’re a classy lady who just happens to have big, bodacious tits.”

  When he talked trashy like that I knew I should be offended, but I never was as it was some kind of erotic.

  “So, you’ve never been sexually abused in a physical manner?”

  “No, never.”

  “Good. Then with your permission, I’ll proceed.” His hand on my breast cupped and massaged then his fingers rolled my hard, elongated nipple back and forth. He bent forward, kissed it and then took it deep into his mouth. I felt wild currents of electricity flow through me drawing huge amounts of blood to the center of my body so fast that I keened from the pleasure.

  “You haven’t seen anything yet, just wait,” he promised.

  The fingers that were inside me turned from being up and down like a blade to being flat and curved up into me. I could feel Matt’s palm on my mons as he stretched each digit to reach further up inside.

  “I need you to lean back some,” he whispered. “Hold yourself up with your hands on the blanket, that should help as the angle is crucial.”

  I did as he instructed although I was curious for a moment how he came to be such an expert at this. I could feel his fingers striving to reach higher. With his other hand on the outside of my body, he walked his fingers up from my mons toward my navel as if measuring. Then I felt his longest finger crook and rub tiny circles on the inside wall of my vagina. There was a strange gentle pressure at first, which steadily increased, and then suddenly there was an explosion and I fractured into unbelievable spasms of bliss.

  “Yes, yes, let it go,” he whispered as I allowed my body to fully enjoy a sublime rapture that I never even knew existed.

  Enjoying each aftershock to its fullest, my vagina clenching and unclenching on its own, I sat with my arms propping me up, my breasts open to the breeze and the better part of Matt’s hand inside me. It did not get any better than this.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “You’re welcome.” I felt his lips on my throat and then his fingers slowly slid out of me. I opened my eyes just in time to see him shutter his. With his eyes closed, I couldn’t see the passion that I knew was there but I felt it as he sat there obviously relishing the moment and his masterful triumph over my body.

  Without warning, I felt strong hands grip my hips and lift me. I was lifted as if I weighed nothing of consequence and brought down onto the thickest, longest, hardest shaft of pulsing, engorged flesh I could have ever imagined. Fully impaled and embedded within a nanosecond, I gasped. I didn’t know when he’d had the time to move his suit aside but it was apparent he was ready and rarin’ to go.

  With capable hands on my hips he pumped and gyrated in a wild series of thrusts giving way to complete abandonment. I could hear the slapping noises we were making and wondered how far the sound was traveling. Were people beyond the dunes sitting on their decks and wondering at the strange echoing sounds? Seconds later, he stopped all movement, jerked and sobbed. Yes, sobbed. As his seed pumped into me, I felt as if I was in control of the universe. It was wickedly powerful. I ran my hands th
rough his hair and held his head to my chest as he murmured and babbled like a baby. I had never been happier.

  On the way back to the room we walked arm in arm looking like every happy, handsome couple you see on the billboards advertising our beaches. “So where’d you learn how to do that?” I asked looking up into his face as the wind whipped my hair around my face.

  “I read a lot,” he answered noncommittally. “That’s not book learnin’.”

  “Well, there might have been some lab work on the

  side,” he said as he patted my backside affectionately on our way up the steps. The thought that he had been with enough women to learn how to appreciate the subtle, yet finer art of lovemaking was a little daunting, but then without the trial and error part, it was just bread and butter sex—for the most part, the type Stephen and I’d had. Our experiences had been limited which led to our sex lives being limited as neither of us had the chutzpah to buy one of “those” books or “those” videos and admit we weren’t adequate enough for each other as we were. Wow, what a lot of time wasted, I thought as we tromped up the wooden access shaking the sand from our feet.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” he said as he opened the door to our room. “What are you thinking about?”

  “Stephen and our sex life.”

  “Uh oh.”

  “Uh, oh, is right. We had ABC sex. We never got to the letter G.”

  “It’s not fair to compare,” he reminded.

  “Oh, I’m not comparing, I’m just a little upset that he might have gotten gypped.”

  “Ever use handcuffs?”

  “No.”

  “Dildos, vibrators?”

  “No,” I said and felt a blush staining my neck.

  “Feathers, chains, whips?”

  “No. No. No.”

  “Then he got gypped.”

  “You’ve used feathers, whips and chains?”

  “Feathers, and a paddle once or twice.”

  “Geez, I’m a babe in the woods.”

  “Well you’re definitely a babe. And I’ll do you in the woods anytime you’d like. I can easily see you as a naked little wood nymph,” he said with a chiding smile.

  I turned around and put my arms around his neck and brought him down for a kiss. It was lovely, sensual and thorough but not rushed, as if we had all the time in the world.

  “What would you think about a little W sex?” he asked as he unzipped my skirt.

  “W?” I asked.

  “As in water,” he said as he scooped me up and took me into the bathroom. Within seconds we were naked and standing under the hot water as it poured down on us washing away the sand and grit of the beach.

  When he felt he had cleaned me thoroughly enough, he lifted me, wrapped my legs around his hips and took me against the wall. Half an hour later when I was readying myself for bed, I still had interesting creases in my butt from the tile pattern.

  We slept, wrapped in each other’s arms listening to the waves crashing on the beach just a hundred yards away. I opened my eyes once to make sure I hadn’t imagined all this, that we really were in this magical place. When Stephen had died, I never thought I could possibly be this happy again. And now look at me, happy as a clam.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Rainy Days and Sundays Matt and I were walking hand-in-hand enjoying the buffeting ocean breezes, this time on Sunset Beach. He had come back from Raleigh just to spend the weekend with me and so far we’d been inseparable. We had just enjoyed a wonderful brunch at Magnolia’s Restaurant on the plantation, and then taken a long walk on Sunset.

  A storm was coming and it felt wonderful to experience the wild turbulence. It picked up my billowing skirts and slapped my calves in its fury and sent cooling air to tickle my thighs. Matt laughed as I fought to keep my skirt down as it seemed to want nothing more than to be lifted over my waist, tugged off my head and let loose to soar like a lost balloon up to the heavens.

  As usual our thoughts turned to innuendo, and then to raunchy whisperings. I had never known anyone as upfront about sexuality as he was so I asked him the safe sex questions I should have asked a lot earlier.

  “So you’ve had frequent sexual encounters, but not indiscriminate ones?” I asked after hearing him confess that he really couldn’t give me a number and that if he could, that I probably didn’t want to hear it.

  “Yeah, let’s move on to something a little less, uh . . . uncomfortable,” he said with a sideways smile while grabbing and squeezing my hand. I watched as he lifted our joined hands to his mouth and kissed each of my fingers. I felt my knees go as mushy as the sand under our feet.

  “So, umm, I’m sure there have been some women who have commented on your uh . . .” I couldn’t think of a word to use to describe what I was trying to say. I decided on “ . . . ampleness.”

  He chuckled and I thought he actually blushed but it was hard to say as the wind was really whipping things up.

  “It’s funny, I never thought anything about it when I was growing up. Then one day this guy in high school hinted at a showdown. We were in the locker room after a bruising out-of-town football game, guzzling down some beer somebody had smuggled in with a cooler. I must’ve done something to piss him off or something, but it was me he zeroed in on for a fight. I know it’s a guy thing, to prove oneself, stupid stuff after way too many beers. But no matter how I ignored him, this guy kept going at it; everything was a challenge. Finally it came down to what he really wanted to know, how big a man I was. He harped and harped until everyone around took out their money and placed bets. He was a hulk, a wrestler on the team, and I really didn’t want to fight him. I had nothing to compare with, so I bet on him. I lost the bet. I was bigger by an inch and a half. I couldn’t believe it. Neither could he. I won everyone’s respect, not because I was bigger, but because I didn’t think that I would be. Before he saw me, he’d thought he was gargantuan.”

  “They say size doesn’t matter,” I quipped.

  With another sideways smile he told me, “That’s a lie, most women will tell you that it actually does.”

  “Maybe that’s a lie, just to make you feel better.”

  “I would feel better if you would tell me how you feel about it, because what most women think doesn’t really matter, it’s you I care about.”

  “I think it’s a shame to waste time talking about your stellar erection when I could be experiencing it.

  He pulled me close and whispered against my ear, “Well, let’s just see how accommodating you can be. I believe the equipment is up and running.”

  I felt the hard ridge of him press into my belly and I leaned up for his kiss.

  “In fact, I believe my equipment is considerably more than operational at this very moment.”

  “Then I vote that we head back to the car so we can . . . mesh gears,” I said.

  He kissed me again, much deeper this time, his tongue thrusting in a most provocative manner. Then we turned to go back.

  We were almost at the pier when a strong gust of wind blew sand in our faces. I was struggling to unwrap my skirt from my legs, facing backward away from the wind in an attempt to keep my hair out of my eyes when I heard someone calling Matt’s name. I turned, as he did, to greet a couple hurrying down the beach toward us.

  “Connor!” Matt called out, then sotto voice he clued me in, “My college roommate. He has five little girls.” That was all he had time to say before they were upon us.

  I could not reconcile the woman gracefully gliding by Connor’s side, clasped against him and tucked under his arm as being the mother of one child nevertheless five.

  “Matt, good to see you! Going to be some kind of storm, huh? You remember Kelly, don’t you?”

  “Sure, hello Kelly. Cat, this is Connor a reprobate of the first order, and Kelly who claims the all-time record for Jell-o shots, nineteen that night, wasn’t it?” I watched as the woman blushed crimson.

  “This is Cat, short for Catalina. What brings you guys to Su
nset?”

  Connor nodded at me, winked as if we had a shared secret, and then turned back to Matt. “I’m getting an award!”

  The cocky grin that spread across his face softened his features. He looked boyishly happy, his freckles and fair skin making him appear years younger than Matt who had to be close to the same age. But Matt looked more masculine, more urbane, more virile really. And of course he towered over all of us, so he was obviously the “grown up” of the group.

  “Are they giving out awards for collecting mini bottles and screwing up putts now?” Matt’s eyebrow lifted sardonically and Connor laughed with an enthusiasm that was delightful. I could just image that wonderful laugh coming out of five little girls all at once. It was the sound Christmas mornings were made of and it made me think of my own little girl halfway around the world.

  “It’s a sales award. I was number one in the district. In fact, I think they’re going to promote me to Regional Manager when I get back. Tonight’s the award banquet; it’s at the Carolina Conference Center in Sea Trail.”

  “Well congratulations. You always did know how to schmooze the brass. It should be a nice affair, they always do it right there.”

  “You have a house there, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I do. Well, we need to get going, the sky is really getting dark and we don’t want to miss the bridge. Look me up next time you’re in town and we’ll play some golf.” He slipped his hand into his trouser pocket and pulled out a business card. “Here, these are my numbers.”

  Connor took the card and slipped it into his own pocket. “Yeah, we should probably head back too; get ready for the big party.”

  Matt and Connor shook hands, and then Matt leaned into Kelly, kissed her on the cheek and whispered something in her ear that made her smile. It made me seethe with an emotion that could only be described as primal and fearful. Was I jealous of this beautiful, sultry woman who must have spandex for skin? Damn straight I was. How could a mother of five look like such a sexpot and boast a smile as if she hadn’t a care in the world? It was curious indeed.