All of my writing is fiction and the characters are products of my imagination. All characters that need to be are 18 years of age or older. Comments are always very welcome and carefully reviewed. Dirty Sheets doesn’t sound very romantic but they, along with Lisa’s words, turn out to be a key to opening Eric’s mind and allowing all his doubts to escape *****

The white BMW X5 slowed, stopped to wait for the traffic to clear, then quickly turned left onto the short causeway that led to Whitworth Island. Slowing again, it turned right into the gravel parking area and pulled into the first available spot closest to the dune. It stopped and the engine shut off.

Inside, Wilma carefully picked up the rather large canvas bag she had brought, checked the surprisingly modest bikini she had worn, which didn’t really matter that much anyway, slipped off the very gauzy and nearly transparent cover-up she had worn while driving and stepped out of the car. She locked the doors and put the car keys, as she still called them despite the fact that they were annoyingly all electronic, carefully into the little pocket with the zipper that was on the inside of the bag. It annoyed her to have to keep reaching into the bag and undoing the zipper so she left it unzipped. She crunched through the gravel till she reached the steps that carried her up over the dune. Her flip-flop caught on the top step, throwing her forward and her frantic grab at the hand-rail was the only thing that saved her from a rather embarrassing tumble down the far side. Luckily, the flying bag had not spewed out any of its contents and she was able to go down the steps on that far side, gather up the bag and hope her plight had been a private one. ‘ But the incident pissed her off no end since the people who owned the island should realize that people would be wearing flip-flops and climbing steps in them wasn’t easy. It was just simple common sense – she hated the lack of common sense in anyone, and particularly in a business. She made a mental note to contact them during the next week about doing something to fix that, if only cutting a notch through the dune which she suspected might be illegal. Just something so you didn’t have to use the steps. Ramps maybe, anything! She hated to have her day ruined, or nearly ruined at least, by plain stupidity.

At the small kiosk, still slightly shaken, she paused, took a small plastic card from the unzipped pocket, and angrily jammed it into the card reader. In an instant it buzzed, a green light turned on and she could hear the gate unlatch. She jerked the card out of the reader and stuck it back in the little pocket.

She pushed the gate open, hoping what had happened wasn’t a bad omen for her Saturday, stepped inside and bent to take off her offending flip-flops, as she loved walking barefoot through the soft sand, even though it was a little hot already today and she would have to step lively to keep from burning her feet. She passed the concession stand and forced a smile at the girl behind the counter, knowing she’d almost certainly be back to see her a little later. Ahead of her stretched a lot of soft sand, and, further down toward the ocean, the now bare and hard sand of the low-tide exposed beach. And, there were people of course. Not as many people as were there some Saturdays which was fine with her, although sometimes she actually enjoyed the larger crowd. A short walk and she selected a spot, took her towel from the bag and spread it carefully on the sand and sat down. She sighed, removed the cover-up, and reached around behind her and untied the straps holding the bikini top in place. She let the two shoulder straps slide down her arms, then took the top and folded it neatly before stowing it carefully in the bag.

Wilma was on WI1 as it was called, the first section of Whitworth Island and beach. It was generally referred to as “clothing optional” but that was a little bit of a euphemism as what it actually meant was women were allowed to be topless there. Actually, there was really no “clothing optional” area as WI2 was totally nude as was, of course, WI3, where she had never been. But she was content right here for a while, letting the sun beat down on her body, and particularly her breasts.

Since it was a very hot day, she didn’t want her shoulder-length, fairly dark brunette hair touching her shoulders, so she gathered it together high up on the back of her head, took the elastic band from the bag and snugged it around the hair making a cute little ponytail. Next came the sunscreen which she applied fairly liberally to every bit of skin that showed, particularly to her breasts which she knew were nice but certainly not spectacular. However they were, they didn’t get quite as much time out in the light as most of the rest of her. Despite her trying to be as careful as possible, as she brushed over her nipples they immediately sprang to life, as they often did. Here, that was okay but other times she had to be a little more careful as they could almost have a mind of their own. When she was at work, that could be a problem for sure. She also hated smelling like coconut, so her sunscreen was odorless and didn’t mask the aroma of the cologne she loved to wear. And, sitting there glistening like she knew she was doing, only made her more watchable and she did like being watched. Later she was sure she’d move to WI2 where she’d have to use a little more sunscreen but she was satisfied to just relax here now. She might get a snack and something to drink before she’d move. So, best to stay put for a while. She tightened the band on the ponytail one more time.

She heard the voice before she saw the speaker, and was annoyed even before she turned her head.

“Hey, babe. You here by yourself?”

When she looked, there were two of them, smug smiles on both faces, each looking too predatorial for her Saturday morning.

She looked from one to the other.

“Yep, and going to stay that way too.” The cold look in her eyes left no doubt as to the seriousness of her response.

“Bitch,” one snapped at her as they walked away.

She’d been called a bitch before, but it was usually in her work environment. She had to smile when they were out of sight. She had wanted to say, “Assholes,” in her response but had managed to hold back.

Sighing, she lay back on the towel, her arms straight out from her sides, her legs spread just enough to be a little alluring without actually showing anything just yet. The warmth of the sun, the feel of the gentle sea-breeze and the faint murmur of voices was very relaxing, something she needed on her Saturdays, particularly after her brief “incidents.”

She lay that way for maybe 10 minutes before she decided to sit up and do a little people watching herself. It was always interesting to see the topless women and, of course, compare a little but mostly just fantasize about who and what they were and why they were here. She’d always enjoyed trying to figure out and understand people and had found, over time, that she was quite good at it. Here, all she had was what she could see, but she still enjoyed the speculating. She did the same at airports, just here there were a lot less clothes and it was a lot more fun.

Still amused by her game she tightened the band on the ponytail one more time when she became aware of a male figure that seemed to be heading straight for her. Her body tensed and “not again” echoed in her brain. She didn’t need two incidents on the same day and “asshole” was still resting on the tip of her tongue. She was here to be seen and not to be bothered, damn it. But continue on he had and now he was stopped right in front of her.

“Hi,” he said, a huge smile on his face. A smile that not only took in his whole face but that came at her from his eyes as well.

Despite what her brain was telling her, and that word that was on the tip of her tongue, she actually couldn’t help being drawn to the smile as it was surprisingly warm and just friendly looking.

“Hi,” she replied, a lot brighter than she had intended to.

“I noticed you over here,” he began, and kind of half-chuckled since obviously she was here to be noticed.

She smiled in acknowledgment. This was much better than the “Hey babe” she had gotten before. Still wary, but now curious as well.

He continued, “and you’re by yourself and I waited a while to see if anyone was going to join you.” Then he put his hands up in that “I didn’t do it” gesture. “I’m here by myself too and... , “ he stammered slightly, “I just, you know, thought it might be fun to sit and maybe talk some, and stuff.” He raised his eyebrows in a question.

And stuff? What was “and stuff”? She felt a little more comfortable but her antennae were still up and operating. Of course, she couldn’t help but be curious as to why a guy, by himself, was at a topless beach, but the answer seemed fairly obvious. If they were on WI2, then he would have had no bathing suit and his reasons might have been a little more obvious. She left him wondering for a few moments as she checked him out as best she could.

He sure wasn’t a dazzling, handsome kind of a dude, just a, well, pleasant face. Not at all like the few guys she had dated in college and after, all of whom she had to admit had been pretty good-looking guys. Mostly she had been, and still was, way too busy to be bothered with guys and dating. But this one did have that wonderful smile that was hard not to like. Plus, that little stammer told her a lot. If she wanted to be watched, here was someone who could watch from up close and, surprisingly she thought, he had been and still was looking her straight in the eye and hadn’t dropped his gaze to her tits once. That was puzzling and she needed to change that if he was going to hang around.

It was her turn to smile. “Sure, why not,” she said, twisting a little so that her breasts were thrust forward fairly prominently. No luck as his eyes still held hers. She had originally been very wary as he approached but, already, that had changed and, without her even thinking about it, she was becoming the aggressive one.

“Great!” he said with a bit too much enthusiasm. “Let me go grab my towel.”

She watched him retrace his steps. He was interesting in that there was nothing hugely interesting about him. Not that there was anything at all wrong with him. He was maybe six feet tall, not athletic or particularly muscular, just trim and, well, trim. Certainly not fat or thin just very, normal.

Fairly quickly he was heading back with his towel and that huge grin. He spread the towel carefully, sat down, and, of course annoyingly, looked her straight in the eye. But she would not let that pass and, surprising herself, decided to tease a little. She was beginning to wonder about him. It was almost like he had been, well, totally honest with her thus far.

“So,” she said, peering at him with one eye partly closed, “you came over here to ask if you could join me but didn’t bring your towel along.”

“Yeah, so you think I was a little pessimistic, then?” The smile changed to an equally enticing grin.

“Maybe, and there’s one other thing.” They were eye to eye. “You haven’t once, looked at mytits. Take a look.” She thrust her bare chest forward and swallowed her smirk at his reddening cheeks.

“Oh, I’ve looked,” he replied quickly, eyes dropping to them, his cheeks reddening even more. “What guy wouldn’t?” He unconsciously licked his lips. “They’re as nice as any I’ve seen for a long time, and that doesn’t in any way serve them the justice they should have.” He glanced up with that big smile. “I hope you don’t get upset with me but your nipples are unbelievable.”

So, he was at least a bit normal after all, even if she knew her breasts didn’t quite match with what he’d said.

Now, she was wishing they were on WI2 so she could see if his body was reacting to what he was seeing and saying. She was sure she’d like that.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, knowing that she could easily reach up and pinch those nipples and he would really see something, but that wasn’t quite proper at this time. She reached her hand toward him. “I’m, um, Wilma,” she said after a second’s hesitation.

“Eric,” he replied, offering his hand. As he did so, she caught his “ring check” on her other hand. He didn’t seem surprised to see the telling finger bare.

Her interest increased. There was something about his face that, even when he wasn’t smiling ... he was.

“So,” he began, a little hesitantly. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” What he was really saying was, “If I’d ever seen you, I surely wouldn’t have forgotten you.” As he watched her, he nibbled gently on his thumbnail. Not biting it, just kind of snapping it over his front teeth.

“I don’t get here too often, a couple of times a month I guess. You a regular?”

“About the same as you, I guess.”

She was just going to let him have his head, to see where he was going to go.

“Are you from around here?”

“I am now,” she replied. “Moved here for work a couple of years ago. Where are you from?”

“Born in Ohio, lived there all my life until I came down here for work. Where are you from originally?”

Her turn for a little fun. “I was actually born in that state up north,” she laughed, knowing how Ohioans felt about Michigan, not even wanting to say the name.

“Poor thing,” he grinned in return. “Glad you finally saw the light.”

“I assume then that you’re a hard-core Buckeye?”

“Born and raised,” he said, and she thought he might actually have thrust his chest forward a little as he spoke. “Are you a Wolverine then?”

“Not exactly. I went to school out west, in California.”

“Ah, which one?”

“Well,” she giggled. “Ohio’s state bird is the Cardinal and that was my school, only not quite.”

“Whoa, Stanford then, huh?” He knew that it was the Stanford Cardinal, but it was the color and not the bird.

“Yep.”

“Pretty expensive to live out there isn’t it?”

“Holy shit!” she exclaimed, then quickly got a sheepish look on her face. “Sorry, but it’s one of my pet things. It’s about six or seven times more expensive to live out there. Terrible. I was glad when I graduated and could move somewhere else, although...” Her voice trailed off.

He was looking at her in anticipation, wondering why she had stopped where she did. She snugged the band on her ponytail, giving her hair a little flip.

“I moved from there to Massachusetts, which was a lot cheaper but still two and a half times what it is here. A few years in Pennsylvania which were more normal I guess, then here.”

“Midwest to West Coast to East Coast and then the Southeast. You’ve been around.”

“Lots of frequent flyer miles,” she laughed. “So, what about you?”

“Boring,” he said solemnly. “Started at a little OAC school outside of Columbus, Otterbein, and then finished at Ohio State. Actually was out of the country once thoiugh, to Canada. My parents knew someone in Medicine Hat, Alberta. We drove there from Ohio. About 2000 miles.”

She was enjoying watching him as his face was getting more and more animated as he told her about his trip.

“I remember part of it like it was yesterday. We went to Havre, Montana and turned north, heading for the border crossing at Wild Horse. It was Big Sky country for sure. No trees and you could see forever. Have you ever been there?” He interrupted himself just in case.

“No, no, never. Keep going.” Her smile was getting broader as she joined in his obvious excitement.

“Lots of pronghorn antelope in the fields and a sign that said, “No residences or services, next 47 miles.” When we got to the Canadian border there was just a house, with a garage beside it and you drove into the garage and the door closed behind you. A Canadian guy came out, asked questions, checked everything, and then the door at the other end went up and we drove off into Canada.” He stopped, as if afraid he was boring her.

“What was the town you were heading for? Don’t think I’ve ever heard of it.”

It was evidently not boring her if she was asking questions.

“Medicine Hat. A really neat place. I think the population when we were there was about 60,000 or so.”

“Can hardly imagine that “no services” thing. I think I’d have been nervous.”

“Not only that,” he continued, “but I think we only passed about three or four cars in that 47 miles so it was fairly lonely. Still beautiful though.”

“I’d have been nervous for sure. Nothing in my life to compare to that,” she added.

The big smile left his face and she could tell he was thinking, pondering something, nibbling that thumbnail. She wondered if she should be nervous now but realized there was no reason to feel that way. In fact, she was actually glad he’d come over to talk with her.

“You said your name was Wilma, right?” He was obviously off on another tack now.

She cleared her throat. “I did,” she answered, curious where he was taking this.

“It’s nothing big, but you just don’t hear that name much these days.”

“No, you don’t, for sure.” A pause. “I was named after my great-grandmother. She was the first Wilma.”

“Oh, that’s neat,” he said, a slightly pensive look on his face.

“She, of course, was my mom’s grandma and Mom loved her to pieces. They spent so much time together when Mom was little. She took care of her all the time, so Mom wanted to remember her. I have no regrets about being named after her. It’s an honor and a responsibility.” She wondered if she was going on too much but his eyes told her he was listening carefully.

“Too bad you won’t get to spend time with her too.”

“No, no,” Wilma replied quickly. “I do. She lives in California and I see her two or three times a year. She’s 94 now.”

“Wow, that’s amazing. I would never have dreamed. I guess I thought all great great grandmothers would be dead.” He took a deep breath and a different look crossed his face. He seemed unsure but pushed on anyway. “Tell me about your family.”

She noticed that his expression had certainly changed andt, she could tell that he wasn’t just making small talk but was really interested. It was a different feeling but she was, just comfortable being with him.

“I guess it’s a pretty normal family,” she began. “I have a brother and sister and we’ve always been really close. Since I moved away, we don’t see each other very often but we text and Skype all the time. Same for Mom and Dad. I call both sets of grandparents quite a bit too since they’re not quite ready for texting and Skype, but that works for them.” As she was talking, she watched his expression changing. If his look had been pensive before, it was now very wistful and tinged with what she thought to be a hint of sadness. She was puzzled but was determined to find out just what it was... “Your turn,” she said, pointing at him, a big smile on her face. “Tell me about your family.”

He looked away, off into the distance for long seconds, then back at her. “Do you really want to hear it? The whole story?”

Now she was suddenly apprehensive and not quite sure where she’d gone with her question. Still, particularly after the look she had gotten, she was more interested than ever to hear what he was going to say.

“Listen, I don’t say things unless I mean them. Yes, I’d love to hear if you’re willing to tell.” A serious look had replaced her smile.

He took a deep breath and when he spoke, his voice had softened a good deal. “My birth mother got pregnant at a fraternity party. Thank God she decided to have me.” He shook his head. “I’m sure lots of people told her not to. But she did and I heard later that she wanted to keep me, to be my mother, but she wasn’t able to with all the cards stacked against her. She, well, she decided to put me up for adoption, a closed adoption if you know what that is.”

“I know a little,” Wilma replied. “I guess neither parents know much or even anything about the other. Is that right?”

“That pretty well sums it up. My birth mom did leave a letter in the file that would be given to me when I reached eighteen. It actually allowed me to view the file if I chose to and to try to contact her too if I wanted.” Quickly his face brightened perceptively. “Anyway, the family that adopted me is perfect. My unbiased opinion of course. They’re my parents, you know. She’s the outsider. Like you, I have a brother and a sister. I’m one happy camper with how my life’s turned out.” It was not at all the way his story had started.

“Did seeing the file help at all?”

“Depends on what you mean by help. It gave me some information that doesn’t really change anything but makes me, well, wonder I guess.” He paused, looking away from Wilma, then back at her with a look that bored straight into her heart. “That fraternity party. She was with a bunch of guys – no idea who my father was. The file did say she was valedictorian of her high school class and on a full academic scholarship. I guess I got a brain or two from her.” He sighed and shook his head.

Wilma watched his face and the changing of his expressions and she could sense the difficulty he was having trying to deal with something that obviously had disrupted his life in some way, no matter what he said about the ‘‘perfect” family that had adopted him. For some reason that she couldn’t quite decipher, Wilma reached out and took hold of Eric’s hand as he shared his story. She almost wished, for just a second, that she wasn’t topless as she listened.

She realized that he had only hoped to be friendly when he’d come over to talk with her and not go into deep and possibly dark places, and he’d asked if she’d just prefer that he leave. With her holding onto his hand, that didn’t seem about to happen. “So, would you like to find your birth mother, knowing what you know?”

He shrugged. “I guess I would. I’m more than happy with my life as it is and I think maybe that’s why I’d like to meet her. I know her name but it’s probably not going to be the same now so that doesn’t help too much. I’d just like to meet her so I could thank her for having the courage to go ahead and have me and, you know, let her know that things have turned out okay. I suspect she might like to know that. I don’t need a relationship with her. I’m sure that might be a little awkward, particularly for her. I’ve actually sent away for three DNA tests so far just on the chance I might find something. Nothing yet. I’m not obsessed about it though. I’ll be happy with whatever happens, even if it’s nothing, which is what I’m expecting.”

That huge smile came her way again as he lay down on his towel, elbow on the ground, head in his hand, just gazing at her.

There was nothing special about him visually but somehow, he was becoming a little extra special. She knew it wasn’t easy to reveal so much of yourself so quickly. She lay down on her towel and mirrored his posture.

They lay there like that, talking about everything just a little and nothing a whole lot. From this close, he was a little awestruck at how pretty she was. Not totally gung-ho beautiful, just very, very, pretty. And he did take time to stare at her breasts as she seemed to enjoy that. He did notice those nipples, that maybe they were a little larger than before and it was all he could do to keep from touching them.

Captured by his smile she asked, “Want to head over to WI2?”

He was glad she’d said it because, by now, there was nothing he wanted any more than that. She’d listened to everything he’d said and hadn’t told him to bug off or leave her alone so he was ready. He eagerly stood up and gathered his towel, helping get hers as well.

He gestured for her to stay put and quickly ran to the refreshment stand and bought two bottles of water, thankful he’d remembered to stuff some money in the pocket of his bathing suit. On a hunch, he picked up one of those two-packs of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. Back quickly, he tucked the bottles under his arm and held out his hand for Wilma who grabbed hold and they began walking. He certainly enjoyed looking at her, but he also enjoyed touching her, even if it was only her hand.

He loved to go to WI2 and look and today he would be looking, but the looking would be a little more personal and close-up for sure. He stepped out of the way and let her lead, watching her very nice rear end swishing from side to side, very delicious looking, even with the bikini still on. At the gate, she led him through, then stopped and very carefully took the bottom of the bikini off and stowed it in her bag. Eric stepped out of his swim trunks and she held out her hand, offering to put them in the bag with her things.

Silly thoughts rushed through his head as he pictured his trunks nestled against her bikini bottoms. But the reaction those thoughts were causing made him try to dismiss them from his mind. Maybe later. They discussed where to go and soon found a place, not secluded of course, but a little away from most of the crowd. He had to admit that, just walking along, he saw a couple of very pretty and very naked ladies. But they were only temporary distractions. And not really even distractions as he was totally focused on the one he was with. She was more than attractive, and very naked as well and he was going to take advantage of that, even if he wasn’t quite sure just how that was going to happen.

Wilma had just gotten a quick glimpse of Eric at the gate and she was anxious to study him a little more carefully now that they were getting their towels situated. She finally decided, what the heck, and just stood and stared at him. He was putting his towel down very carefully and didn’t notice. She was not surprised at what she was seeing as, what had been hiding under his swim trunks, wasn’t at all different from the rest of him. She usually hated the word average but it kind of fit here. She realized that wasn’t all bad, in fact maybe it was kind of good but she wasn’t quite sure why that might be true as of yet.

He finished with the towel and straightened up to see her eyes on him. He slowly closed his own eyes then opened them. “Can I be honest with you?” he said, his voice trembling slightly.

“Please,” was her prompt reply.

“If you keep looking at me like that, something’s going to happen and I think you can guess what it might be so, I don’t know.”

Now, the imp of mischief was on her shoulder, whispering in her ear and she couldn’t resist. She very sensually licked her lips, her eyes half-closed. “Maybe that’s what I want to happen. We’re here to look and see.” She followed that by slowly lowering her eyes again. She could immediately see what he was talking about as his penis was very quickly getting larger and stiffer.

“I’m gonna be the only one on this beach looking like this,” he sputtered out and quickly lay down on his towel.

She lay down beside him on her towel. “Sorry,” she said softly. “I couldn’t resist.” She looked at his erection once more to his groan. “Nice to see I can have that effect though.”

She reached across the gap between them and touched him, on his right side just under his ribs. Her touch was electric but he knew what she was touching.

“You can barely see the scar,” she said, running her finger along the very faint line that ran from his side to nearly mid-stomach. Then, a puzzled look crossed her face and she looked up at him, pressing a finger against the scar.

“I’m a bit of a medical freak,” he said, laughing warmly. “First, people my age don’t get gallstones, but I did. So, they removed my gallbladder at age twenty. He reached down and took hold of her hand, sliding it along to the very end of the scar. “Second, that’s a mild surgical mistake, a small hernia that’s formed since they didn’t quite get the whole incision closed.”

“I’ve never seen or heard of that,” she said, running her fingers over the small bump.

“I said I was a freak,” he chuckled, not wanting to let loose of her hand nor have her stop rubbing that scar.

“I thought they did gallbladder surgery laparoscopically these days. That’s a big incision.”

“Doc just said he wanted to play it safe and I was young and would recover quickly. As long as you don’t cough or sneeze for a few days, it works too.”

She cringed a little at that thought, even though she’d never had any surgery.

Of course, it wasn’t only what she’d done that was having its effect on him. Her touching his scar had generated a warming inside of him that he knew would only grow. And, it was just looking at her, at the trimmed curls on her mons, at her glistening body, at the light sheen of perspiration that was showing on top of the sunscreen, at those nipples that just wouldn’t let go of his eyes, just at everything she was. Not at all what he had expected when he headed for Whitworth Island that morning. Not even what he had expected when he approached her about just sitting and talking. But it was happening and he wasn’t about to fight it. So, he decided he needed to talk.

“Why did you start coming out here to the island?” he asked casually.

She looked at him, a half-smile on her face. Could she share the whole story with him? She’d never really shared it with anyone. It was actually a secret that she held onto tightly. That huge smile reappeared on his face, almost as if he knew what she was debating in her head.