A Summer's Dream - Gone With The Tide... - Cover

A Summer's Dream - Gone With The Tide...

by Dag123

Copyright© 2008 by Dag123

Romantic Story: The Fog is lifting! It's beginning to clear! A gentle young man and a young woman with child-like innocence decide to share a park bench'"while listening to an Itinerant Guitarist playing in the little Park that overlooks the Pacific Sea. Later..., strolling down the Seashore hand in hand'"they come upon a quiet hideaway in the Sand Dunes'"where for a few precious hours, they share a wistful Romantic Interlude'"only to have it end in a tragedy that would make the Angels weep...

Caution: This Romantic Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   .

Stepping quietly into the cool green of Sutro Park, I could hear the soft faint melodic sounds of a guitar. Two things I've loved forever and have never been able to pass up—a woman's laugh and the sound of a guitar. Both are melodious! Both are exquisite!

As I approached, I could see two middle aged women sitting on one of the green park benches. Both appeared to be enthralled as they listened to a young itinerant Musician playing the music of Brazil. I too, stopped and stood still for a moment, to listen to the beautiful sounds he was coaxing from his guitar.

Near by, on the other park bench, sat another listener. She was also quietly listening to the soft sounds—a desirable well-bred beautiful young woman in her early twenties. Her hair was a beautiful light brown, and she had a lovely fair complexion.

Her almost innocent demeanor and friendly smile identified her as one of those rare females—that if you're lucky—you get to meet once in a while. There was such a peaceful feeling of tranquility about the wooded setting—I felt an instant desire to be a part of it.

While I could see there was room on the green park bench where she was sitting, I was hesitant to join her. You know how—when you spot a colorful butterfly you take special care not to disturb it—lest it take flight.

Catching my eye, the attractive quiet young woman solved my problem for me. With a little smile, she politely patted the bench where she was sitting, inviting me to come, sit down, and join her.

At first, absorbed in the music, neither of us spoke. Then, as the Guitarist was finishing the sweet old Brazilian melody, "Wave" she turned and smiled at me.

"Hi... , I'm Nina," she said. "Doesn't he play beautiful?"

"Yeah... , he's something else," I said. "Oh... , I'm Nick." I said, with what I hoped was just the right amount of friendliness. She responded by giving me a warm smile in return that did wonders for my self-assurance.

Nina and I sat enjoying the music for nearly an hour until he opened his case and put away his guitar. Then without a word—he picked up his case and passed out of our sight—giving the two of us a friendly nod as he walked by the bench where we were sitting.

"It's such a beautiful day," she said. "I think the fog is about to clear."

"Looking down there at the beach, I'd say you're right. Looks like it's going to end up being sunny and warm," I said, agreeing with her.

"Would you care to take a walk along the waters edge?" she asked.

"Sure... , I have the whole day. That's sounds like fun." I said, smiling.

A few moments later, we had made our way through the warm sand down to the water's edge. The tide was just coming in—in a lazy gentle swirl that lapped languidly at the dry sand near the shore.

"Would it embarrass you if I took my shoes off," Nina said. "I love the feel of the water on my bare feet."

"Not at all. Why don't you hang on to my arm while you slip them off?" I said. A moment later, I felt her soft fingers, warm through my shirtsleeve, gripping my arm. She steadied herself—then slipped out of her shoes.

"Oh... , this warm sand feels so good on my bare feet," she said, laughing up at me in that warm innocent little girl way of hers.

She has such beautiful brown eyes... , I thought. Am I a lucky guy or what, to meet a girl this exquisite. Looking at her pretty lips, I could see she was wearing that beautiful shade of pink lipstick that looks so appealing on women who have her fair complexion.

"How far down the beach should we walk?" she said, smiling pleasantly.

"Well... , How about... , we walk down to those Sand Dunes?" I said. "They're about a mile down the beach."

"Yeah... , Okay... ," she said. "That should be fun. Are you sure I'm not keeping you from something you should be doing?" she asked.

"No. Not at all. I have today off. Hey... ! I ask you—how often does a guy have a chance to spend time with someone as beautiful as you." I said, grinning at her. She looked up—made a funny face at me—then smiled.

Taking a chance, I gently laced my fingers through her slender little fingers. I felt a special surge of happiness as I felt her soft fingers tighten in mine—she had given me her tacit approval.

"Nick... ," she said, giving me a warm smile. "You have no idea how great it is to meet a nice guy like you. I've been walking along wondering why it seems so right for us to be holding hands. We only met an hour ago."

"I don't know why either, Nina," I said, secretly thrilled at her words, "It just does."

After a leisurely meander down the seashore, walking along splashing our feet in the surf like a couple of carefree children, we arrived. The Sand Dunes were now only a short distance up from the waters edge.

Walking up from the waters edge through the warm sand, we selected a sand pit with a deep hollow depression. Once we sat down in the sand, we were completely hidden from passersby—in our own cozy little spot.

Nina seated herself in the warm sand. Pulling her knees up, she encircled her knees with her arms. Leaning her head back, she turned her face up toward the Sun. "Ahhh ... This feels so good," she said.

"Here... , why don't you sit on my sweater? You don't want to get your dress dirty," I said, peeling off my old sweater.

Nina smiled in gratitude. "I haven't met anyone like you in a long time, Nick. You are so thoughtful. I think I could get used to having someone take such good care of me," she said. "Has anyone ever told you... , you're kind of special." You are, you know."

"Trust me... ," I laughed. "The pleasures all mine," I thought. How trite is that?

Now that we were seated close to each other, I felt a bit more free to openly admiring her. Nina had on a light Multi Green Shift Dress, with splashes of white, beige, with a peach floral print. From the way she was dressed, I sensed she was financially well off.

Looking at her slender legs, her daintily turned ankles, admiring her perfectly formed toes—now slightly covered with sand —Nina in her own quiet way was stunning! Looking at her, a tide of affection swept over me bringing to my mind the title of an old song. "You'd be so easy to love..." That song was probably written with someone like her in mind, I thought.

 
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