Date: Sun, 21 Jul 2013 23:11:51 -0400
From: Alexis Patashnik <alexis.patashnik@gmail.com>
Subject: The Surfer Girl

	If she were a little younger, she might have driven the fifteen
minutes into town to have a drink at some hole in the wall bar rather than
spend the night alone.  Instead, tonight she embraced the idea of building
her own fire on the beach.  It was unseasonably cool at dusk, so the fire
lady donned one of her husband's casual shirts, a light blue fleece, and
jeans over her lace (always lace) panties.  She slipped on some leather
sandals that wrapped tightly around her feet, left the seaside cottage
where she was staying, and headed through the dark forest to the beach.

	The fire lady and her husband had shared a vigorous but unromantic
morning in bed before he left her on a business trip that could not be put
off.  She spent a good part of the afternoon in bed finishing what he could
not.  Then she took a walk down to a secluded, rocky part of the beach, and
got up the nerve to finish herself off again.  Sitting within a rocky
enclosure with her skirt pulled up around her waist, the fire lady's left
hand stroked tight circles around her clit while the fingers of her right
hand slid into her wet pussy.  She imagined a soft, generous tongue probing
her swollen clit while she came to the sound of the waves crashing against
the rocks.  Ecstasy filled her whole shivering body and she collapsed on
the rocks, her flesh exposed to the scorching sun.

	That night, on the beach, the fire lady assembled what she could
and, with little effort, encouraged flames to lick up the carefully piled
wood, building a small inferno.  She stood over it and surveyed the shore -
her beach, her sea - like a queen surveying her country.  At nearly
six-feet-tall, with dark brown, shoulder-length hair and classical features
lit by the glow of the fire, she appeared less like a queen and more like a
Greek goddess ready to receive a sacrifice.  The fire lady saw a solitary
figure approaching in the distance.

	It was a young woman, maybe twenty years old.  She had very short
blond hair and was dressed quite inappropriately for the weather.  Her tiny
yellow bikini could barely contain her ample breasts.  The young woman
smiled at the fire lady, first with her eyes, and then with a set of sultry
lips.  When she opened those lips, she spoke with a French-Canadian accent,
and asked a favor that came off more like an invitation, which the fire
lady eagerly accepted: 'Will you share your fire with me?'

	The two spoke, and the fire lady learned that the young woman had
quit school in Montreal weeks earlier and traveled down to spend her days
surfing.  She met a local man in a dive bar and stayed at his trailer.  The
man treated her like shit, and called her disgraceful names, but he never
hit her, and when he had ended up in jail for unspecified reasons the night
before, it left the surfer girl with nowhere to go.  Nowhere, that is,
except the warm embrace of this fire, which she desperately needed on such
a chilly night.

	The surfer girl reminded the fire lady of her college days, when
everything seemed possible (and desirable) and when foolishness was
endearing, and where the innocent young fire lady had made love to a series
of na?ve girls.  She thought back to studying for a freshman literature
class in her friend's room.  Her friend's roommate, who had impossibly red
hair and piercing grey eyes, left during the study session.  With the
roommate gone, the friend shared a secret about the roommate through
childish whispering and giggling.  The secret lodged as an anxious desire
in the young fire lady's chest.

	One day, clad in a tight silk dress, the young fire lady came by
her friend's room at a time when she knew her friend would be in class, and
asked the roommate to lunch.  Lunch became dinner, dinner became drinks,
drinks became dancing, and soon the young fire lady was feverishly sucking
and stroking the red-haired roommate's breasts.  The roommate ravenously
pulled off the tight silk dress, tearing a strap in the process, and then
pulled aside the lace (even back then, always lace) panties.  The
red-haired roommate's tongue slowly teased up and down the tight, innocent
flesh of the young fire lady's pussy.  Her tongue found the young fire
lady's eager clit, spinning circles and sucking sensually with full, soft
lips until the young fire lady came - for the first time - on the
red-haired roommate's devoted face, while the roommate's grey eyes looked
deeply into her own.  The young fire lady, feeling flushed after her first
orgasm, pulled on what was now a one-strap dress and walked out the dance
club's utility room with a confusing mix of pride and shame.  Standing on
the beach with the surfer girl, the fire lady wondered briefly why she was
thinking back on that chapter of her life.  Of course, it was because the
surfer girl filled her with the same desire.

	The surfer girl was hoping that she would be invited back to
... wherever, really.  She could see that the fire lady was lost in
thought.  The fire lady, despite her desire, was not going to invite the
surfer girl to her cottage.  For one, she was married to a man, and her
younger days of sleeping with women were behind her - especially
considering that she had no reason to trust some foreign, bikini-clad gypsy
nymph.  And all that aside, it would be wrong to take advantage of this
lost girl's predicament.  No, taking the surfer girl to bed was out of the
question: they would brave this moment of unexpressed and unrequited
passion and then their relationship would die along with the smoldering
embers of the fire.

	But the surfer girl had designs on a warm bed with a hot night, and
she sensed that she had to make her move quickly.  She innocently (so
innocently) told the fire lady that the flames had warmed her body, but
that her hands were still cold.  The surfer girl slid her tiny hands into
the fire lady's front pockets and pulled in close to her body.  The surfer
girl was shorter so that her head came to rest on the fire lady's shoulder.
The feeling of the surfer girl's large breasts pressed against her body was
exquisite and so all-consuming that the fire lady did not notice as the
surfer girl's pocketed hands slid inside the lace (moist lace) panties.  Or
perhaps she noticed, but did not resist.

	The fire lady came suddenly to her senses and grasped the surfer
girl's supple shoulders, pulling her away.  Their eyes met - one set of
eyes swirling with conflicting emotion; one set of grey eyes filled with
youthful determination.  Those beautiful grey eyes took the fire lady back
again, and her inhibitions were lost . . . .

	Her hands pulled the surfer girl's face close and kissed her sultry
lips with an intensity that she thought she lost long ago.  Those lips were
delicious: they tasted faintly salty with the sea water and the surfer
girl's hard-earned sweat.  She hungrily devoured that mouth and tongue
while the surfer girl returned the favor, taking the fire lady's tongue
between her lips and sucking with a greedy urgency.

	The fire lady ran her right hand through the surfer girl's short
blond hair and, with her left hand, slowly undid her own jeans - the
button, the zipper, and then the waist sliding down her thighs.  She then
playfully took the surfer girl's hair in her right hand and gently pulled
the surfer girl to her knees, so that her face was a few hot inches from
the thin layer of lace covering the fire lady's hungry twat.  The surfer
girl thoughtlessly pulled the lace (now, torn lace) panties to the side and
plunged her soft face into the fire lady's smooth pussy. 'So good . . .'
the surfer girl moaned, as her tongue penetrated into the wet, pink folds,
her nose gliding along the pulsing clit.  Almost instantly, the fire lady
came like a tidal wave.  Her whole body shook with pleasure.  Her mind
drifted to a place outside of time as she gave the surfer girl a delicious
gift that the surfer girl dutifully swallowed.

	The fire lady's orgasm only encouraged the surfer girl, who
continued to lap at the cunt like a dog, breathing heavily and grinning
widely as the fire lady climaxed again.  The fire lady was overwhelmed with
such intense pleasure that she could no longer take it, and she pushed the
surfer girl away and dropped to her own knees, hunched over and panting.
The surfer girl, laughing with accomplishment, tackled the fire lady in the
sand and kissed her deeply.  The surfer girl's mouth tasted different now.
It tasted like the fire lady's very own secret.

	'Now take me home.'